Cian gave a reluctant nod. “Would you like me to join you?”
“No,” Eira said. “I’m abandoning you to a different type of watch, sister. I think Lord Morrow is of a mind to abduct his daughter and deliver her to Mackenzie’s son. Such is the gossip of the day.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time a marriage began with kidnapping.” Cian rose, crossing the room to the window. As members of the Circle they no longer resided in the barracks but shared quarters in the manor. Though darkness covered the valley, Cian spotted winking lights one by one breaking through the black veil. Gatherings would take place up and down the glen to honor the turn of winter to spring, darkness to light. And Eira was right to worry about what might take place at a few such meetings. It was their life’s work to watch and to worry.
“I’d be more concerned if the other party were any other but Mackenzie,” Eira said. “He knows enough to prevent any foolishness. Mackenzie wants our protection more than a wealthy daughter- in-law.”
Cian laughed. “Do you think he’ll set Lord Morrow’s mind at ease?”
“Edmund Morrow will soon be back in the lowlands and no longer a concern of ours.” Eira pulled the hood of her cloak up, casting a shadow over her face.
“Do you think he’ll forget his younger daughter so quickly?” Cian turned away from the window to gaze at her sister.
“She is no longer his daughter,” Eira said. “She is one of us. You and I know what that means, even if he doesn’t.”
Without another word Eira left the room.
“And even if she doesn’t,” Cian murmured to no one but herself.
Most of Ember’s triumph was pecked away through dinner by her mother’s constant lamenting and her sister’s pathetic sniffling. It had been like this all day. She’d returned to the guest quarters to collect her belongings only to be beset by a dissonant chorus composed of her father’s curses, her mother’s pleas, and her sister’s sobs. After what had seemed like the longest hours of her life, they’d returned to the manor hall for the feast as a family but with none of the warmth one hoped for among kin. Her father had refused to sit with them, instead seeking a place beside Lord Mackenzie. No doubt he was conniving a way to see her married to the highland lord’s son, despite the day’s events. Ember could only hope his pleas would fall on deaf ears. She glanced frequently across the room, hoping to spy evidence that her father wasn’t making any progress toward his goal. From his reddened face and the sour turn of his mouth it seemed his efforts were being frustrated.
Even with this reassurance, Ember was finding it difficult to enjoy the feast. Her family had been seated at a table of honor not far from the head table, where members of the Circle sat. Alistair and the rest of the Guard were gathered at their own long table, and Ember wished she could join them. At that table her presence would be welcomed. Currently she felt much like a guest at her own funeral. But since it was the last time she’d spend with her family for the foreseeable future, she felt obligated to remain at their side.
“Surely you can’t want this?” Ember’s mother asked for the third time. “If you don’t want to live in the highlands after your father’s debt to Conatus is paid, I’m certain we can find a husband for you other than Mackenzie’s son. I’ll speak with your father.”
Ember ignored her, trying to enjoy the decadent feast spread before her. The heavy wooden board was laden with foods welcoming spring. Nests were filled with hard-cooked eggs, an accompaniment to roasted pheasant and suckling pig. Wine breads, bursting with preserved fruits, forecast the ripeness of summer berries to come. She was about to tuck into a crock of fish stew scented with savory herbs when her father’s shouts roared through the hall.
“Am I not lord of my own house?” Edmund’s fist swept across the table, sending platters of food sailing. Slabs of meat smacked onto the floor while vegetables rolled underfoot.
Lord Mackenzie rose, trying to calm her father. “Sit down, my lord.”
“I will not!” Edmund’s face matched the beets that were now staining the floor.
Ember sat frozen in horror. Her father’s anger was obvious, but so was how deeply he’d sunk into his wine cup. In his rage he waved his arms, swaying unsteadily as his glare swept the room.
“This place is cursed, I tell you!” he cried, stumbling toward his family. He pointed an accusing finger at Ember. “A den of iniquity that has stolen my daughter to bend her to their will.”
Ember had been so focused on her father’s ranting that she hadn’t noticed others moving nearby. Father Michael walked calmly to the center of the room.
“Lord Morrow, do not speak of evil here,” he said. “Your child has been called to a higher purpose, God’s purpose.”
“No!” Edmund stumbled forward, knocking the priest aside. “Yer . . . no man of . . . of . . . God. There’s . . . there’s . . . no true Church wi’in these . . . walls. Your lies . . . all . . . yer . . . lies . . .”
Her father’s words began to slur as his voice became hoarse. She could no longer make sense of his rambling, only picking out a few words as he shook his fists in the air, shouting.
“. . . devil’s snare . . . heathens . . .”
“You know not of what you speak,” Father Michael said, bowing his head and making the sign of the cross. “Stop this wicked speech.”
“Tricked!” Edmund cried out. Ember shrank into her chair as he came toward her, pointing an accusing finger. “No daughter of mine will become a witch.”
Sensing a presence behind her, she drew a quick breath when she turned to see Barrow standing over her. His stance wasn’t aggressive, but he looked as immovable as an oak tree.
“You’ll find no witches here, my lord,” he said, offering her father a cold smile. Ember shuddered when his hand rested on her shoulder. A strange sensation curled from the point where his fingers touched her, sliding over her skin and snatching her breath.
Another tall figure loomed before her father, blocking his path to the table.
Edmund Morrow lurched into Lukasz’s immense form. The knight grasped her father’s arms, steering him away from Ember.
“Seek your bed, my lord,” Lukasz said, giving her father no choice in the matter as he pushed him to the door. “Before you do any further harm.”