Kissing the Countess (40 page)

"But you inherited land and wealth—" Catriona gasped. "He supported you well, it seems. You were educated, and you are respected in the glen as the doctor. Surely that is enough."

"Kilmallie was fattened by the earl's money. But it's not enough—why should I be just the doctor and a small laird, when I could be the earl? Come here," he growled, yanking her toward him, wrapping an arm over her to prevent her from fighting him. He looked over the cliff edge. "I was the only son the old earl ever knew—the one he leaned upon!" he called down to Evan.

"You cannot prove that claim," Evan grunted as he pulled closer now. "Madmen imagine fantasies."

"I have proof," Grant said. "Letters the old earl wrote telling me details. Do you know why your mother left him and took you away? Because he had loved my mother. Because he already had an heir in me."

"No," Evan said. "I would have been told."

"Ask your mother why she left him," Grant said. "Oh—you will never have the chance, will you. Soon you'll shuffle off this mortal coil." He came to his knees, dragging Catriona up to kneel beside him. "I'm sorry to make you pay with your life, but I should be Earl of Kildonan. You do not care for this place, I hear. You'd rather be in the Lowlands. But now you have a bonny wife—the girl I would have taken for myself. The Plain Girl of Glenachan," he said, pulling her close to him. "Plain Girl no more. A beautiful woman, and I have loved her longer than anyone," he murmured, looking down at her. "But now I'll have to kill you, too, Catriona, with your earl—for you know the truth. And that hurts me worse than you can imagine."

He looked troubled, Catriona realized, truly distressed. "Kenneth," she said. "Please, listen to me—"

"Ah, good. He's about to join us," Grant said with a sense of satisfaction, looking down.

"Let her go," Evan growled. Catriona saw the top of his head for a moment, and heard the scrape of his heels on stone. She wondered why Grant allowed him to come up now—and felt her blood chill to know that one brother planned cold murder for the other.

"Ach Dhia,"
she moaned. "Evan, keep away—" She pushed at Grant, trying to throw him off balance so that he could not attack Evan as soon as her husband came over the edge.

But Grant pulled her close, holding her so tightly that she could not struggle effectively against him. "Kildonan—I would have married this girl," Grant called out. "She would have been my countess. But if I claim brotherhood with you to gain the land after your death, I cannot marry your widow. Pity," he said, pulling her close. "What a pity. You'll both have to die."

He grabbed her tightly to him then, kissing her, driving his mouth hard over hers. The wind shoved and smacked into them. Poised at the very edge, she felt wildly unstable, as if she were about to plummet.

Instinctively she pushed at Grant, and saw with satisfaction that he fell backward. But he lunged for her, grabbed her around the waist and slammed down with her, both of them crouched on their knees, dangerously near the cliff rim.

Suddenly Catriona heaved herself closer to the edge, gripping it with one hand, the weight of her skirts giving her better stability than Grant had. The force of her movement tilted him toward the gap, and he grunted with alarm, but rolled down beside her, snatching at her again.

Stretching her arm downward, she reached toward Evan. If they were both to die, she had to touch him once more. "Evan," she gasped. "Oh, God—"

"Love," he said, and suddenly his head rose near hers, and his hand smacked rock and earth beside hers.

Grant let go of Catriona, hurling her aside so that she slid back down the incline a little. As she scrambled upward again, she saw Grant shove at Evan as he came up over the edge.

With a burst of strength, Evan heaved himself toward Grant, rolling with him, both of them grappling viciously at the edge of the cliff.

Without thought, still determined to help Evan, Catriona lunged toward them, but took Grant's knee in her shoulder and was thrown back. Grabbing at Evan's coat and missing, she felt him push her backward, shoving her out of the way. She slid downward, got to her knees, and scrambled toward them again. But they were flailing, punching, wrestling so violently that she could not come nearer. They struggled only a few feet from her, and only a foot from the cliff edge.

She screamed and tried to grab at Grant's foot, but took a smacking, painful kick to her arm. Snatching at his coat, she tried to yank him away from Evan. The wind grew fierce suddenly, whipping at all of them, adding its strength to the fight.

Grunting, huffing, locked in a wicked embrace, they rolled again and again, hands taut at necks, faces grimacing. Grant shifted beneath Evan and tried to heave the other man away.

A sudden, powerful gust of wind shoved at them. Just as Evan rolled again, Grant kicked his leg over the side into air. The momentum drove him halfway off the edge.

Evan grabbed for him, and within an instant, both men careened over the edge into the dark, gaping cleft, tumbling with weird grace out of sight.

Catriona screamed, her throat dry and tight, her heart falling with them. She scrabbled to the edge, afraid to look over, sobbing. She heard a shout, and peered over.

The rope and claw had held. Evan dangled where he had swung earlier, held fast by the rope around his waist. Kenneth Grant clung to his coat, his legs whipping in midair. Grasping the taut, straining rope, Evan snatched at Grant desperately, holding on to the man who had tried to kill him, the man who still struggled to kill them both, now.

"There's another rope and claw! Get them!" Evan shouted.

Sliding backward, Catriona snatched Evan's knapsack, which he had left on the slope. She grabbed frantically at the rope and claw, which were already tied together, her hands shaking fiercely, and crawled back to the edge.

Evan hung there, his coat half pulled off of him by Grant's struggling, thrashing weight, for Grant had no good hold on Evan and had a grip instead on cloth.

Gasping, sobbing, Catriona hoisted as far over the edge as she dared and pounded and forced the claw into another crevice beside the hook presently embedded there. She tested the claw, which seemed to grip almost instantly, finding hidden holds in the rock face.

"Throw the rope down!" Evan called. She spooled the rope downward and watched as Evan heaved and swung toward the wall on the rope that held two men. He pulled on Kenneth's arm, desperately trying to help him grab the dangling rope, trying to save his life.

Kenneth lunged outward to snatch at the free rope, letting go of Evan. Almost at the same moment, he kicked Evan, and the force of the movement jerked his own hands loose. His grip broke and he fell, sailing downward, spread-eagled in eerie silence.

Catriona looked away, hiding her face in her hands.

* * *

"I understand, Catriona," Evan said much later. They stood side by side near the old fairy bridge, at the top of the hill that overlooked the glen.

The castle sat like a jewel at the foot of the dark hills, and the mists floated over the land, over all of Kildonan and Glen Shee. The whole of it looked dreamlike and beautiful.

Catriona sighed, still stunned and in shock, with a deep, hurtful sadness in the core of her heart for the death of a man she had once called friend. They had left him at the foot of the Black Notch, covered with his coat. Evan had said he would go back up with Finlay and others to fetch him down properly.

She and Evan had come down from the mountain in silence, having circled behind Beinn Shee to follow the ridge to its other end, where it met the slope that led to the fairy bridge.

Nearly home now, she thought, and only the little bridge left to cross. She looked up at Evan in concern and reached out to take his hand. His fingers squeezed hers.

"What do you understand?" she asked softly.

"What you and Finlay did. Why you did it." He looked at her, his expression somber. The wind lifted his thick dark hair. He had bruises on his cheek. His eyes were beautiful, deep and brilliant, and so sad.

She loved him so. The feeling brimmed and filled and expanded in her, so much she could not express it. Flowed through her with such force it nearly hurt, as if she would have to grow just to give it space in her life. Reaching up, she brushed her fingers over a new bruise and touched the old one under his hair, where he had hit his head the first time she had met him.

"What are you saying?" she asked.

"I'm apologizing," he murmured.

The lifting of her heart felt as if she had wings. Smiling, she shook her head. "I should apologize about the tenants, Evan. I should have told you, but I thought you would be angry—"

"Angry? No." He gave her a bemused look, and his eyes sparkled just before he smiled. Reaching out, he slipped his arm around her, and the cup of his hand felt warm and good. "I was not angry about the tenants, my lass. That is easy to understand. I know how much you love Glen Shee—you and Finlay both." He looked out toward the long glen below, green, silver, and gold softened by mist and drizzling rain. "I understand that, because I care about the glen, too. I would have done the same, had I thought of it. Had you told me."

"I see that now," she murmured softly. "What then? Why were you so upset?"

"Because you did not trust me. Because you thought I was like my father, that I would just send those people away."

"Now I know I was wrong. And I am the one who's sorry."

Evan watched her, his hazel eyes beautiful, his gaze filled with clarity and quiet power. Feeling overwhelmed by relief and something more, by her own unquestioning forgiveness and the deep love she felt for him, Catriona smiled in silence and tipped her head so that her cheek rested on his shoulder.

He leaned down. "Catriona Bhan," he whispered. "Catriona Dana, my brave, tall, fair lass. I love you."

She caught her breath. Raising her head, she looked at him, wondering, stunned a little to hear words from him that matched so perfectly, so exquisitely, the feeling that poured through her like warm sunlight despite the cool air and rain clouds. Her heart blew open like a rose with the unexpected joy of it, and tears stung her eyes. Smiling a little, she leaned forward.

Evan leaned forward, too, and kissed her mouth gently. The wind swept over them, fluttering her hair, her plaid, fluttering his hair. She felt still and strong and peaceful, and more sure of love than she had felt of anything else in her life.

"I love you, too," she whispered, and she accepted his kiss again, its tenderness melting her deep inside.

"Oh," he said, pulling at the pocket of his torn, bedraggled coat. "I nearly forgot." Drawing his hand out, he opened his fingers. "Is this what you were looking for?"

Winking, beautiful, the natural crystal sat in his palm, its pink heart captured pristine inside the gleaming, perfect wand.

"Oh," she breathed, taking it from him, turning it in the pale light. "Oh, it's beautiful! Oh, Evan—thank you—" She threw her arms around him, pressed her face into his coat.

He held her, dipped his head down. "Now you can take it to Mother Flora, and she will teach you all she knows."

She nodded. "But—if you want to leave here—" She paused, glanced up. "If you want to leave, I will go with you."

He leaned back a little, looked at her. "You would?"

She nodded, tears pooling in her eyes. "I will. I love this place, and it is part of me, but... but you are in my heart now. Like this beautiful crystal—one is within the other, and they cannot be apart. I cannot be here without you." She held up the crystal wand, with its miraculous pink heart. "If you must be in Edinburgh, I would have to—"

"Oh," he said. "I will need to be in Edinburgh sometimes, but I could stay in Kildonan and Glen Shee much of the time."

"Aye?" She looked up at him.

"Aye, my bonny countess," he said, leaning to kiss her head. "With you and our little ones—as many as you like and heaven sees fit to give us. And all our tenants, too, as many of those as you like, as well," he said, pulling her close.

She half laughed, half sobbed, and turned into the circle of his deep embrace.

"Let's go home." He took her hand.

"We'll have to cross the old bridge," she said, as they walked toward it.

"Aye, well," he said, stepping on to its stones and pulling her with him as they walked up the incline of the arch. "What was that fairy charm again?"

She laughed, and he laughed, too, and led her toward the gap in the bridge. Whispering the charm, she heard him repeat it and watched as he stepped across with one long stride.

He turned and half lifted her over, setting her down lightly, and took her into his arms. "Now," he said, leaning down to kiss her, "I believe in magic."

Epilogue