Page List


Font:  

“Oh, well that should be easy enough for ye. I’ve been watchin’ ye do nice things for her durin’ the whole time ye’ve been here.”

“Aye, I have, havenae I?” Matthew’s eyes drifted back to her. Now, she was moving out of view, waving a hand at Jonathan and Dougal as she joined Freya’s side. Jonathan stared after them. After Freya, Matthew guessed.

“But, now, I cannae seem to think of a single thing that would be perfect enough for her,” he went on, turning his back to the window now that she was gone. “I want to make her so happy that she will never have another bad thought.”

“That may be the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard, Matthew,” Georgie grinned from ear to ear. “But I daenae ken how I can help. I daenae ken anythin’ about wooin’ a woman. Especially nae a woman like Miss Jonet.”

“Oh, come now, ye’ve kent her for most yer life. Surely there is somethin’ ye will be able to tell me that will help me think of somethin’?”

Georgie cupped his chin in thought. He wandered away from Matthew, toward the bed.

“Ye could go huntin’,” he suggested. “Ye could bring back her favorite meat. Maybe that would be romantic?”

Matthew chuckled, mimicking Georgie’s cupped chin. “Aye, that’s a good idea, I think. But let’s see if we can come up with somethin’ better.”

Georgie visibly sank deeper in thought, his brows furrowing. He sat on the bed, then frowned even deeper as he rose again. “Oh, Matthew,” he pointed to the side table. “It seems ye have a letter.”

“A letter?”

Georgie flipped it back and forth before handing it to Matthew. “There’s nay name. Maybe it’s from Miss Jonet? Maybe she left ye somethin’ while ye were havin’ breakfast.”

Matthew did not cling to that possibility. Yes, it could very well be Jonet, but he doubted she would leave it unaddressed. The simple fold of the paper filled him with confusion.

This letter had not been there when he had left the room that morning. Georgie was right about that. Whoever left this here had slipped in when he was not present, and Matthew had been so caught up with watching Jonet from his window that he had not seen it when he came back.

His chest felt weird as he proceeded to open it. An unusual wary feeling wrapped around him. Once it was open, something slid to the floor.

“What’s that?” Georgie asked as Matthew bent to pick it up.

His heart began to hammer in his chest. That wary feeling grew to dread and then evolved into a fear that he could taste on his tongue.

It was a lock of Jonet’s black hair. The end seemed to have been dipped in blood, now dried and matting the strands together.

Georgie was as silent as he was. Matthew stared at the lock of hair in his palm, tied in place by a simple piece of string. He did not know what to do. He stood there, his body so still that the world seemed to move around him.

“What does the letter say?” came Georgie’s voice, sounding very far away.

Matthew gripped the hair tightly in his fist as he lifted the letter to read.

It was only one line, simply put to leave nothing to the imagination.

If ye daenae leave this Castle, then both ye and Jonet will die a painful death.

Matthew felt as if the world was tilting around him. Somehow, he managed to make it to the bed before his legs gave way beneath him. He could sense that Georgie had also read it over his shoulder and the stableboy was silent.

It wasnae all a coincidence. All this time, Jonet’s beliefs had been true.

No matter how many times he had thought about it, Matthew had dismissed the idea. He could not believe that she truly was cursed, that everyone she grew close to romantically would die. Despite the odd things happening—the arrow, the weird smell of his wine, the brigands attacking them—he had written it off as mere chance.

But now, he could no longer fool himself.

Matthew could not permit himself to be thrown by the information for very long. He jumped to his feet, looking at Georgie who was still very taken aback by what he had just read.

“Ye will nae speak a word of this to a soul,” Matthew told him firmly.

Georgie lifted his eyes to Matthew’s and nodded, his lips tightening. “What should I do then?”

“For now, nothin’. Ye will go about yer day as if nothin’ happened. I will speak to the Laird about this matter.”


Tags: Lydia Kendall Historical