Page 14 of Taming the Highland Beauty

Callum’s gaze drifted back to Gille. He was responsible for putting her in that bed. If he hadn’t been in such a hurry to save his mother, he might have taken time to think things through and find a safer way for Gille to uncover the reason Lady Janet was fading away.

But there was no going back. What’s done was done. All he could do now was hope Gille woke soon and that she sustained no lasting damage despite the streak of white that had appeared in her hair, a startling contrast in a sea of burnished red.

He frowned. Despite being a MacLeod, he’d had little exposure to the fae, except for his long-lost relative Aria. Though she was partially a MacLeod, she was also half-fae and so very different from the woman on the bed. Where Aria was steady, Gille was fiery and impatient. Where Aria was ethereal, Gille was earthy. Aria’s features were classic perfection. Gille’s were less so. She had visibly changed since her arrival several hours ago. Had leaving the forest somehow changed her looks? Or was Dunvegan having some sort of effect on her?

Callum continued his study of her. He noted that her oval face was too long, her cheekbones too high, her lips too well defined, and when she was awake her eyes too sharp and determined beneath her arched brows. Her features, taken individually, were all wrong, but fit together in perfect harmony to form a whole that was fascinating, compelling, and quite different from her half-sister’s. And while Aria’s body was supple and strong, Gille’s body—partially concealed beneath the covers—was far more delicate than he had imagined when hidden beneath her cloak.

The door opened softly behind him, and Callum turned to see Alastair and Orrick as they entered the room. “How is she?” Alastair asked.

“Look at her,” Callum whispered, tamping back a rush of emotion. When had he started caring about what happened to the fairy? “Gille is changed, but she is also broken, and it is all my fault. I asked her to try and help Mother.” It was not caring so much as it was guilt, he tried to tell himself.

“She is not dead,” Alastair said impatiently.

“What if she does not wake up?” Unsettled by his thoughts, Callum picked up the strands of white hair. “Something terrible happened in Mother’s mist.”

“She will awaken,” Alastair said, his tone less harsh. “Something similar happened to Gwendolyn. Gille will wake up. Give it time.”

Callum nodded as he released the silken white strands of her hair, letting them fall back against her cheek. “Let us hope that is before the seventh sunrise, or her life will be truly over.”

“About that,” Orrick said, coming to sit at the edge of the bed. “I might have found something hidden among the books in our library.”

“What did you find?” Callum asked, intrigued.

“A journal written by William MacLeod.” When Callum frowned, Orrick continued. “William was Iain Cair’s son, and the first MacLeod to be blessed with fairy blood.”

“That is not a blessing,” Callum remarked with a scowl.

“Of course it is. Our clan’s prosperity and good fortune have relied on the gift Pearl gave her first-born child: the Fairy Flag.”

Callum cast his brother a less than pleased glance. “What has the Fairy Flag got to do with Mother’s fading away and Gille being cursed by Oberon?”

“Everything. They are all linked, if William MacLeod is to be believed.” Orrick leaned forward. “He wrote that before Iain Cair fell in love with Pearl, that the MacLeods of Dunvegan enjoyed an unusual relationship with both the fae and selkie worlds. They were all united by the natural world that surrounded them. They each had their place. The Fae ruled Fairyland, the Selkies ruled the sea, and the MacLeods ruled their peaceful corner of the Isle of Skye. All that changed when William was born. His very existence started the first rift in the peace.

“Because of the magic that coursed through his veins, the human world now had fairy magic in it. And when Pearl was forced to leave her family and return to Fairyland, she caused the second rift by gifting the MacLeods with the Fairy Flag for protection and acting as a bridge between the human and fairy worlds.” Orrick’s gaze shifted between Alastair and Callum. “William suspected that each rift weakens all three worlds, leaving them open to corruption and a misuse of the powers each holds.”

“Another rift might have occurred when Oberon stole Keiran from his crib,” Alastair added. “It could also explain why Father was never the same after his head injury. Perhaps the corruption that William wrote of kept Father from healing.”

Orrick nodded. “And his instability was what led to him imprisoning Mother in the dungeon, ultimately leading to her death, and perhaps why she remains with us as a ghost.”

Callum shook his head. “That is a lot of supposition on both of your parts. Father did what he did because he was angry with Mother for protecting Aria and Pearl.”

Alastair sighed. “That is not how Mother saw the situation. She has explained to us in recent years that she protected all of us. Including Aria and Pearl, against a man who was no longer rational.”

Orrick held up his hand, cutting off the debate. “The past has already happened. We cannot change any of it, but we can allow it to inform the present.”

“Agreed,” Alastair said.

Reluctantly, Callum nodded. “If what you say has any truth behind it, then why is Mother fading away, and why did Oberon curse Gille?”

“I believe I know.” Gille’s voice was soft, broken.

All three men turned to see Gille’s lids flicker open. She had heard and understood at least part of their conversation. At the thought Callum’s heart soared. Perhaps Gille was not as badly injured as he had suspected. “How are you feeling?”

“Like my head is going to explode.” She swallowed roughly. “Dizzy.”

Callum wanted to reach for her fingers, to comfort her. Instead, he clutched his hands together. “You hit your head hard on the flagstone. We were worried—”

“Callum is trying to say that he is pleased you are awake,” Alastair cut in with a smile.