Page 17 of Only a Highlander Will Do

“I am not your child, so why come to me?”

I wanted to acquaint myself with the woman who will soon be my son’s bride. The woman’s ghostly gaze moved from Fiona’s head to her toes. You are quite lovely.

“I have made Tormod no promises.” Fiona’s gaze shifted to the window. “In fact, he’s at war right now because he kidnapped me and brought me here.”

Yet you are not content to stay here. If you wish to leave, I can show you how to escape safely.

Fiona was startled that the woman had read her thoughts, but then straightened when her offer of help registered. “You would do that? Help me leave this place?”

She nodded. My son is a good man. But if you will only bring him heartache in this life, then aye. I would rather set you free than burden him for a lifetime.

Fiona frowned. She didn’t like that this woman—ghost, whatever she was—thought of her as a burden.

Come. I will show you a secret passageway. The woman turned back towards the door, leaving an odd mist in her wake.

Fiona stayed where she was. “I cannot leave here. The castle is surrounded by MacDonald warriors. Surely one of them would capture me and I would not be better off than I am right now.” As evidenced by the attack at night and the fighting below, the MacDonalds appeared to be as hungry for war as Tormod claimed.

The Grey Lady floated back to Fiona, stopping only an arm’s length from her. A chilling grey mist coiled at Fiona’s feet. She shivered at the sensation of ice on her exposed flesh. You wish to stay then?

“For now,” Fiona admitted.

That is good. Then you will come to know my son better and see his goodness for yourself.

“I have made no commitment to Tormod. He’s given me three days to decide my fate with this clan.”

The Grey Lady stared hard into Fiona’s eyes as if searching for secrets, then a smile came to her lips once more. Three days is plenty of time to change a heart.

A chill ran up Fiona’s arms. She lifted her chin and took a deep breath, trying not to betray her anxiety. What had the woman seen in her eyes? How could she possibly know anything about her feelings for Tormod when Fiona didn’t know herself? Along with her ghostly existence, could the woman also see the future?

Tormod asked me to give these to you. The ghost motioned towards the bed.

Fiona startled at the rainbow of wild flowers upon the light blue bunting: white wild daisies, yellow wood sagfe, purple thrift, maiden pink, and red sheep’s sorrel. Had she been so engrossed in the battle at the courtyard wall that she hadn’t heard or seen the Grey Lady as she covered her bed? Or was magic somehow involved?

There was no magic involved, the Grey Lady said, again as though reading Fiona’s thoughts. I can move things with my mind. As if to demonstrate, she turned towards the bed and the flowers lifted before landing softly against the covers once more.

Fiona marvelled at the sight. “I had no idea ghosts could do such things.”

Janet MacLeod’s face became solemn. I would gladly exchange that skill for the ability to hold my children in my arms one last time.

Fiona drew herself up. The woman’s response was that of a mother, not of an ethereal being set out to harm her. “I’m sorry such things are impossible for you. It must be hard watching your children, being so close, and yet not being able to truly be their parent.”

A single tear appeared on her cheek. It is. All I want is to keep them safe, and for them to be happy. Tormod will be happy with you, Fiona, and you with him if you give him a chance.

“You think I will make Tormod happy?”

The woman’s eyes looked bottomless in the candlelight, full of yearning that made Fiona uncomfortable. I know you will.

It was a look that asked for her compliance—begged for it. Fiona wrapped her hands in her skirt. “How can you say such a thing? You know nothing about me.”

The Grey Lady’s gaze connected with hers—intense and probing. I see everything I need to in your eyes.

Fiona wanted to close her eyes but resisted the urge. “I don’t believe you see anything other than what you want to see.”

Time will tell, my child. He is good for you and you are good for him. Suddenly the grey mist around her swirled until the figure was engulfed. In the next moment, the swirling mist shifted to a bright white light that floated towards the ceiling, then vanished.

Fiona watched as the woman disappeared. How odd it must be to disappear but still remain cognisant of what was happening around oneself. And how worrisome that the woman could know what she was thinking or feeling by merely looking into her eyes. Was that a skill all mothers possessed?

At the bedside, Fiona picked up a stalk of meadowsweet. She missed her own mother most days, but in this moment even more so. What would her mother suggest as a way forward? To marry the MacLeod, knowing he was not the peaceful man she had always dreamed of marrying, or to leave and go find her own clan? Lost in her own thoughts, Fiona carried the flowers with her to the open window, peering out. The conflict in the courtyard appeared to be over. Had the MacLeods been successful?