Page 63 of Fletcher

“No one shall speak of such, but female vassals who grow too besotted with a MacMar, they’re sent away from the castle,” Meg said. “Mayhap ’twas her only hope, remaining silent so she might stay near him.”

Lark sank down on the stool by the table. “She must have hated me for being with him, and then I got her killed in the end. God, this is awful.”

“Before you name yourself the builder of her doom, ’tis something more you should ken. One of the lasses from the croft saw Idonea speaking with that Finfolk prince who sent those lads after you,” Meg said, coming over to touch her shoulder. “I’ll wager she lured you out of the stronghold for them, lass.”

Lark heard the maid leave, and then slowly got up and regarded the rotting silk dress through her tears. Was this why Idonea had tried to blame her jinx for her injury? So guilt would make Lark leave Fletcher? It seemed unbelievably cruel.

I am done blaming myself for what happens to everyone.

It took several trips to clear out the cabinet and trunks, and carry all the gowns down to the garden midden. Lark knew the groundskeepers regularly burned weeds and other plant waste in the big pit, and tossed all the rotting garments in it. Once she had everything in a pile, she poured some lamp oil over the gowns and set fire to them with a torch.

“I’m sorry you never got to wear them, Idonea,” Lark murmured as the flames roared up. “I didn’t mean to fall in love with him, either. I tried everything I could not to, and you knew that. Now that you’re gone I guess what you did doesn’t make any difference. He’s mine now.”

Shaw joined her at the edge of the pit, and watched the garments burn for a few minutes. “How much we blame ourselves for what others do, ’tis balanced by how much we blame others for that we ourselves do. After a lifetime of secret jealousy and silent hatred, Idonea’s scheming brought her own end, my lady.”

“Probably.” Lark regarded him. “You knew what she did?”

He moved his shoulders. “I’ve a boon my brothers dinnae share; one the Pritani forced on me. It grows agitated when darkness draws close. Whenever Idonea came near me, my flesh fair crawled off my bones.”

She grimaced. “Doesn’t sound like much of a gift. Were you ever tempted to find out why she set off your darkness detector?”

“I spoke to her once when she first came to Dun Ard from a village of fishers on the other side of the island,” he admitted. “A storm sank her sire’s boat and ended him and her four brothers, and then her màthair walked into the sea and drowned herself to join her husbands and sons. In that time ’twas much superstition about so many deaths all at once. Fearing she’d bring bad luck back on them, the village cast out Idonea. ’Twas my brother that found and brought her to the stronghold. Fletcher even convinced old Gerta to teach her how to sew.”

Lark imagined the seamstress as a young, distraught woman seeking refuge just as she had. “No wonder she fell in love with him.”

“So you ken, too.” He sighed. “I saw her affection for my brother too many times, but never said she a word. Half our female vassals would give their hearts if we permitted such. ’Twill ever shame me that I thought her simply infatuated with him.”

She nodded at the burning gowns. “She sewed an entire wardrobe of beautiful dresses to wear for him, embroidered with their initials entwined. I wonder what else she did trying to keep him for herself.”

Shaw touched her shoulder. “Let her go, lass. As you said, ’twill make no difference now.”

Fletcher came out of the stronghold and walked over to them, a dark look on his face. Before Lark could ask him what was wrong he lunged at Shaw, knocking him to the ground, and began punching him. The chieftain took every blow without defending himself.

“What are you doing?” she demanded.

Nyall and a guard rushed over to pull the two men apart, and Fletcher nearly shoved the captain off his feet as he tried to attack Shaw again. The chieftain stood there, his shoulders hunched and his guilt plain on his face.

“Duncan told me,” Fletcher said, snarling the words. “Why?”

Shaw’s jaw tightened. “If you learned Idonea had murdered Shoran and Tilly, and lured Mistress Ambrose to that Finfolk lad, you’d blame yourself for her love. Just as you believe you’re the reason our màthair died, and I became a slave, and every other wretched thing that scars this clan. ’Tis enough, Brother.”

Lark pressed her hand to her mouth, horrified to know what the seamstress had done for her twisted love.

Fletcher shook off the captain’s hands and walked up to the chieftain. “Idonea stole two women I loved from me, but no’ for love. She hated me for my blindness. I didnae see her affection for me. That, ’twas my only part.” He pulled a kerchief from his sleeve and offered it to him. “You stupit arse.”

“Aye, and we’re twins more than brothers.” Shaw mopped the blood from his nose and mouth before giving Lark a crooked grin. “Do you yet wish wed him, my lady?”

She went over to the chieftain and hugged him. “Yes, you stupid ass.”

Fletcher finished updating the accounts, and put away the ledgers before he blew out the lamps and candles and left his work room. After all they had endured while captured by the enchantress, he now suspected nothing would ever plague them again. Facing death and darkness together had changed them both, making them strong enough to stop living in fear of love.

Things would have remained strained between him and Shaw if not for Lark, who had somehow made peace by embracing his brother as if her own. Since the brawl, she had been deliberately seeking out the chieftain and coaxing him to join them for meals. Shaw seemed bemused by all the attention, but at least he had stopped disappearing at night.

As he made his rounds, Fletcher stopped outside the great hall, where he saw a strange vassal with a pair of patrollers and the laird. The slender, dark-haired lad’s garments dripped, and he appeared pale and tired, but stood and listened with a respectful look as Connal spoke to him.

“Who’s this now?” Fletcher asked as a maid came with a tray of hot brew.

“The lad there? The patrol found him on the shore. ’Tis likely he jumped from a slaver ship outside the barrier.” She smiled at the stranger. “So strapping, and such pretty eyes.”