Page 13 of Taming the Highland Beauty

But of the three, it was Gille who caught his attention. While the fairy took up an apple wedge and nibbled at the flesh, he continued to study her. He had convinced himself over the last several years that fairies were lesser creatures, evil and vile, for all the hardship they had brought to his family. When Aria had first arrived, Callum had been angry with his family for accepting her. But time, and her ability to protect those he loved, had worn him down. She was half human, he had told himself as justification for why he had finally accepted Aria as family.

Gille was fully fae. He should feel nothing but revulsion towards her. Instead, Callum found he was experiencing a multitude of wild emotions that took him completely off guard. Anger and sympathy battled with an odd sense of guilt that he may have had a hand in destroying her forest and setting off the chain of events that might end her life in six and a half short days. Dragging his gaze back to his meal, Callum forced himself to eat, neither tasting nor enjoying his food.

When everyone else had finished, Gille settled her hands in her lap and instead of engaging in the conversation that flowed around them, she leaned towards him. “When do we get started?”

“Now, if you would like.” Callum stood and waited for Gille to do the same before encouraging her to walk before him in the direction of his mother, leaving Pearl and Aria behind. He could not help but admire Gille’s bravery. She held her head high and her shoulders straight, not collapsing into a heap of tears over her situation.

A hush came over the chamber as they stopped before Lady Janet. “Mother, this is Gille. She has come to help set you free. In return for her help, I also promised that we would help her break the curse Oberon placed on her.”

A curse will be difficult to break, Lady Janet said, her voice hesitant.

“You can help her, though.” Callum nodded at his mother, praying that she would agree to some sort of assistance. He was not certain Gille would help free his mother otherwise. He needed answers about Lottie as well, but that could wait for another time when he was alone with his mother.

The Grey Lady’s gaze shifted to Gille. Cursed and damned, the two of us. Lady Janet released a mournful sigh that whispered through the chamber. We can find some way to help each other, I am certain.

The Grey Lady floated closer until the mist that coiled along the floor curled at their feet. And even though Callum was relieved that his mother had agreed to help Gille, he shivered as a sudden chill shot through him, making him long for the warm, affectionate woman his mother had once been. “Over the last two years, our mother has been steadily growing more solid, more human, until the last few months when she started fading away again.”

“Do you have any idea why this is happening?” Gille asked Lady Janet.

Sorrow twisted the ghost’s features. I have made so many mistakes.

“That is part of life. Mistakes are stepping stones to wisdom,” Gille replied, her voice gentle. “Would you allow me to touch the spectral part of you to see if I can understand what keeps you trapped here and in so much pain?”

Aye. Anything you can do to help me would be most appreciated.

Aria and Pearl came forward. “Would you like us to help you?” Aria asked her sister. “Much of my magic was taken from me by Oberon, but I could try to help.”

“And though my magic has been drained by the fairy king, too, I still feel the pull of it deep inside,” Pearl offered with a smile. “Together we might have more insight about how to solve this problem.”

Gille nodded, and together the three fairies locked hands and stepped into the mist surrounding Lady Janet. Callum clutched his hands before him as they faded from view. With luck and a little fairy magic, they might help his poor, suffering mother cross over into the afterlife.

*

Gille tensed as a paralysing cold seeped into her bones. It was not the familiar chill of cold air seeping through the castle’s stones, but something far deeper. It clung to her like a shroud, a tendril of sorrow that pulsed through Lady Janet’s translucent form. Gille reached out, her hand passing through the ghostly apparition with no resistance as she tried to connect with what little remained of Lady Janet’s core.

Gille’s own body felt like a forgotten shell. No comforting warmth radiated from Gille’s skin, no steady thrum of her heartbeat. Just a chilling emptiness that mirrored the hollowness she sensed emanating from the ghost.

The vibrant world around her dulled with each passing second. The rich tapestries lining the walls became leached of their colours, transforming into a drab display of browns and greys. Even her own dress, a dark emerald green, took on a sickly hue. The hands that had joined with hers only moments ago vanished, leaving behind a phantom touch—a cold, distant pressure that sent shivers down her spine. And then even that faded, leaving her with Lady Janet in a colourless void, the echo of a touch the only reminder of connection.

In stark contrast to Lady Janet’s pale, insubstantial essence, vibrant memories flickered and danced before Gille’s eyes. A scene of the MacLeods only a few years ago as they danced before a bonfire, their laughter echoing through the night air. A wave of joy washed over Gille only to be ripped away as quickly as it had arrived. Tattered, shattered, suddenly broken.

The image of Oberon, his face contorted in rage mirroring the storm he had conjured over the loch, and an answering primal fury flickered hot within Gille. The image disintegrated then flashed to English soldiers advancing in a tide of destruction that collapsed Dunvegan’s stone walls. A corresponding sense of grief crushed Gille like a physical weight, the air thick with despair before the image crumbled like the wall and disappeared.

A flash of Lottie, tears streaming down her face as she stood alone on the shore, followed by another of Lady Janet disappearing into the trees. Each memory was a sensory overload. The joy, the rage, the grief—emotions so intense they threatened to drown Gille with their intensity. There was no filter, no buffer, just a torrent of raw feeling. One fragmented memory slammed into the next, a chaotic sea of emotions with no rhyme or reason.

And then, with a jolt, clarity struck. These crumbling memories, and so many others, were the anchors dragging Lady Janet down. Her very essence was fracturing, mirroring the splintering of her past. Perhaps, the key to helping the ghost find peace was not just ushering her into the afterlife but putting the pieces of her life back together. To help Lady Janet sift through these memories, to identify the ones tethering her to the mortal realm. Once she found resolution, perhaps then she could finally let go and find her way to eternal rest.

Gille recoiled, pulling away from the onslaught of emotions. She had promised Callum she would help, but a sudden weight of responsibility pressed down on her. Could she save Lady Janet and herself within the next few days? Or would she have to pay the ultimate price—her own life—to fulfil her pledge?

The weight of indecision threatened to consume Gille as she staggered backwards. She cried out, the sound lost in the muted silence of the mist. Then, Gille felt herself falling. Hands reached out for her, but she fell too quickly for them to stop her and she crashed onto the cold stone floor. A jolt of pain lanced through her skull, forcing a gasp from her lips. The spectral mist around Lady Janet dissipated, the world spinning wildly. Blurry figures swam into her vision, their voices a distant murmur.

Overwhelmed, Gille surrendered, closing her eyes and sinking into the blessed darkness.

Chapter Six

Callum straightened in the chair near Gille’s bed, arching his spine to rid it of stiffness. The movement did little to ease his discomfort after sitting immobile all night and into the next morning. He really should get up and walk around the chamber, but to do so might wake up the woman lying on the bed.

Gille’s sleep had been restless and fitful since Lottie had left her some hours before. Callum’s gaze wandered about the chamber, seeking something to distract him. He had been in the green bedroom before but had never noticed the paper on the walls was that of faintly drawn trees that had leafed out in the early spring. Would the delicate drawings bring her comfort, or remind her of the fate that awaited her?