Page 19 of A Laird and a Gentleman

She opened her eyes.

Cameron watched her closely, but there was no fear in his eyes, only questions. “Your skin . . . it is more luminous than ever.”

“Aye,” she replied. For perhaps the first time ever, she allowed herself to ponder whatever it was inside her, and she found nothing to indicate it was evil. She felt warmth, like that of the sun, surrounding them both. The air filled with an overwhelming scent of roses.

“What has caused such a thing?”

“I’m not quite certain, but I think it is magic.”

“Magic, nay. But something. Have you any idea what is happening to you?”

“I have no idea. But the other day when you sent me to clean the lady’s chapel, I fell and broke the shell on my necklace.”

“How does the necklace relate to what is happening to you now?”

“Inside the shell was a message from my mother, written on a piece of parchment. It said, ‘On the seventh day from the opening of the shell, you will come into your own.’”

“Meaning what, exactly?”

She shrugged. “I have no idea, but I had feared it was something horrible, given who my father is.”

His gaze narrowed. “You are not your father, Mariam.”

“Thank you for saying that. I only wish others saw things as you do. I’ve heard the castle residents and the villagers talk about how they suspect me of being as dangerous and depraved as my father. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree and all of that.”

“You are not evil, Mariam. However, you cannot deny there is something strange happening to you. After all, you did cause the wind to rise where there had been none.”

As a sudden anxiety replaced her calm, the glow about her shimmered, faded, then vanished. “I think all of this is connected to my shell necklace and the message inside.”

He released her hand and unlatched his sporran before fumbling around inside. “This shell?” He brought forth the newly repaired white shell her mother had given her before her death.

Mariam’s heart stumbled. “You repaired it.” She accepted the shell from his hand. It was heavier than before and bore thin silver streaks at the points where it had shattered. “How did you do this?”

“With the help of the smithy. He was able to reassemble it with liquid silver, which when hardened kept all the broken pieces in their respective places.”

She offered him a grateful smile. “This means the world to me.”

“That you have worn it every day since you came into my care told me it was special.”

She offered him a grateful smile. “It was the last gift my mother gave me before she died.”

His brow creased. “How did she die? The king mentioned to me something about your mother’s death being suspicious before you came to be my ward. I gave the rumor no credence until now.”

Mariam dropped Cameron’s other hand and turned away, hiding the pain she knew was written on her face. “I was only five years old at the time, and I do not remember much about that night other than that my mother was distraught. She and my father had had an argument earlier that evening. I only heard the strained tones of their voices, but none of the words.” Mariam’s throat was tight as she continued. “My father always claimed my mother was reckless to rush from our home during a storm, that she was foolish to head toward the cliffs alone.” Mariam turned to face Cameron. “The next morning, my mother was nowhere to be found. My father’s servants recalled seeing him chasing her from the house. But he has always denied that claim.”

“I’m so sorry, Mariam. I know what a loss a mother is to a child.”

She nodded, but was capable of saying nothing more as her throat suddenly burned with unshed tears.

“How many days has it been since you received that note?”

She held up two fingers.

“Then that gives us five more days to figure this out.”

She swallowed roughly, then said, “You’re not afraid of what I might be . . . That I might be a . . . witch?”

There was no tension in Cameron’s body or face at the words. “I do not believe in witchcraft, magical powers, or witches. Nay, there is another explanation for today’s events.”