Shadow Music

  “Are you feeling better?”

  Her concern seemed genuine to him. “Yes,” he assured her. He studied her face for several seconds and then asked, “And how is it that you seem so familiar to me? I know we have never met, for I would remember such a beautiful woman. Perhaps I dreamed of you. The guards who traveled with you watched over me while I slept. I must thank you for allowing them to do so.”

  “They didn’t need my permission, and they are the ones who should hear your gratitude.”

  “Yes, you’re right,” he agreed. He then repeated what the priest had told him about the royal guard and was curious to hear more. He was also interested in hearing about St. Biel, and Gabrielle was happy to answer his questions.

  She liked him. Unlike his brother, Liam was easy to talk to and quite charming. Women must flock to him, she thought, because of his easy smile and his good looks. He also had a roguish sense of humor. He made her laugh telling stories about pranks he and Colm pulled when they were boys. Spending the afternoon with Liam was the most pleasant time she’d had since arriving at the MacHugh holding. Best of all, Liam never mentioned the reason she was there, and for that she was most thankful.

  GABRIELLE WAS ACCUSTOMED to eating her meals alone. That evening both Colm and Liam joined her. Colm, sitting at the head of the table, and Liam, sitting at the opposite end, stood when she entered the hall with Father Gelroy trailing behind. Liam beckoned to her while Colm, stone-faced as always, simply waited for her to sit down. She made a choice without giving it much thought. She smiled at Liam as she walked to Colm and took the seat adjacent to him.

  Father Gelroy glanced in both directions before taking a chair next to Liam.

  The room was quiet until Maurna carried in trenchers fashioned from day-old bread and filled with herring, salt cod, mutton, and salt beef. Last to be placed on the table were fat loaves of fresh brown bread. Still hot from the oven, the bread’s aroma filled the hall.

  Determined to engage Colm in conversation, she asked, “Laird, how did your hunting go today?”

  “As expected.”

  She waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t seem inclined. She took the wedge of bread Father Gelroy offered her and tore off a piece as she tried to think of something else to talk about.

  The men ate their meal in silence, while, occupied in thought, she continued to tear the bread into shreds.

  Finally, Gabrielle spoke. “What are your plans for tomorrow?”

  “Why do you ask?”

  “I was but curious.”

  Father Gelroy began to tell an amusing story, and Gabrielle looked down at the table. She’d torn the bread into a million crumbs and made a mess. Thinking no one had noticed, she scooped up the crumbs and dropped handfuls onto the trencher.

  Once the priest had finished his story, she turned to Colm and asked, “Is the weather unusually mild this time of year?”

  “No.”

  Gabrielle was frustrated. Nothing was working. Surely there was a topic that would get his attention. She moved on to a question about the new addition being built.

  Liam was talking quietly to the priest, but he heard what she asked and leaned forward to answer.

  Gabrielle sighed and reached for another wedge of bread, but Colm stopped her by putting his hand on top of hers. His voice was whisper soft. “Why are you so nervous with me tonight?”

  Tonight? She was always nervous when she was with him. But why? There was no reason for this feeling, unless, of course, it was a purely physical reaction, which didn’t make any sense at all. Of the two brothers, Liam was the good-looking one. He was the complete opposite in appearance and temperament from his brother, and yet it was Colm she was attracted to. There had to be something wrong with her, she decided, to prefer such a flawed and rude man.

  “Gabrielle, answer me.”

  “Should I give you one-word answers like you’ve been giving me? I have been trying to have a decent conversation with you.”

  Liam interrupted them. “Colm, did you find out anything about Monroe?”

  “There are rumors but nothing of substance yet.”

  Liam looked from the priest to Gabrielle as he explained. “Laird Monroe was murdered.”

  “We know,” Father Gelroy said. “Lady Gabrielle was supposed to marry the laird.”

  “That’s right, she was. I heard about the marriage before I left the Monroe holding, not long before I was ambushed.”

  “May I ask why you were there?” Gelroy said.

  Liam smiled. “I was meeting someone.”

  “Who?” Gelroy prodded.

  “Just someone.”

  The priest was about to ask another question, but Liam stopped him when he said, “A woman, Father. I was meeting a woman. I won’t give you her name.”

  Gelroy blushed. “If only there was a chapel, you could go to confession.”

  Liam shrugged. “Did you hear that the Monroes are fighting over who will be the next laird? Braeden believes there will be war among them.”

  For the next ten minutes the brothers debated who should take over leadership of the clan.

  “Do you think they will ever find out who killed the laird?” Gabrielle asked.

  “We won’t rest until we find the culprit,” Liam said.

  “We?” Father Gelroy inquired.

  “Lairds Buchanan, Sinclair, Maitland, and MacHugh,” he answered. “They have already come together to share information.”

  Gabrielle hoped there would be justice for Laird Monroe. “No man should die from a knife in his back,” she said.

  “It is a cowardly act,” Colm agreed.

  She stared at his hand resting on top of hers. It was twice the size of hers and warm, wonderfully warm. How could a simple touch please her so? Was she so starved for affection that his nearness would evoke such a reaction? He probably wasn’t even aware of what he was doing. Disgusted with herself, she turned away from him and listened to Fathery Gelroy telling about life at the abbey.

  At every opportunity, Gelroy would make a comment or two about the benefits of having a chapel for the clan. He gave several examples, thinking he was being subtle.

  “A chapel would provide a holy and proper place to hear Liam’s confession and to absolve him of any sins he may have committed with the Monroe woman,” he assured Colm. “And you, Laird,” he continued, “I could hear your confession anytime you wished…even twice a day if necessary.”

  Gabrielle burst into laughter. “Father, I think perhaps you should just ask our laird to build you a chapel.”

  “Our laird?” Liam asked.

  She lifted her shoulders and looked at Colm. “It would seem that you are Father Gelroy’s laird now…and mine as well. Is that not so?”

  His expression was inscrutable when he answered. “It is so.”

  Liam frowned. “Am I missing something here? Why is it so?” he asked. “And are you thinking about building the priest a church?”

  “Perhaps,” he allowed.

  “There are souls in need of saving here,” Gelroy said with a pointed look at Liam.

  “Building a church will save our souls?” Colm asked, grinning.

  “It would be a step in the right direction. Your clan would have to be encouraged to go inside, get down on their knees, and pray God’s forgiveness for their past sins.” Wagging his finger at Liam, he added, “And mean it…with a sincere heart. After what happened to you, I would think you would want to be in God’s good graces.”

  In the blink of an eye the conversation turned serious. “Colm, Father has not been able to tell me how I got from Finney’s Flat to the abbey.”

  “You could have walked,” Gelroy suggested.

  “No, I could not.”

  Gelroy sighed. “I have already explained that I cannot tell you.”

  “But you know, don’t you?” Colm asked.

  “Have you found the men who hurt Liam?” Gabrielle asked in a rush.

  “You would know if I had.”
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  “But you won’t give up searching, will you?” she asked.

  “No, I won’t.”

  “You’ve still to answer my question, Father,” Liam said. “You do know how I got to the abbey, don’t you? Were you perchance near Finney’s Flat when I was there?”

  “You cannot think this dear priest had anything to do with—”

  Colm squeezed her hand. “No, we don’t think he was involved. It’s our hope that he might have seen the men who tried to kill Liam.”

  “I was at the abbey before Liam came to us,” Gelroy said.

  “I know you’re holding something back, and I want to know what it is,” Colm demanded.

  Gabrielle’s mind raced. She had hoped to have a private moment with Colm to tell him that she was the one who shot Liam’s attacker and that her guards had carried him to Arbane Abbey, but now he was forcing the issue.

  “I must tell you—” she began.

  He shot her a daunting look that stopped her from continuing. “I’m talking to the priest, Gabrielle. It’s time for the truth.”

  Father Gelroy seemed to shrink in his chair, recoiling from the laird’s anger.

  “Well, Father, what is it? Are you going to tell us, or do we have to resort to more forceful measures?” Liam asked.

  Gabrielle bolted to her feet, upsetting her chair in her haste.

  “I cannot believe you would ask Father Gelroy to tell you what he cannot.”

  “Cannot? Or will not?” Liam asked.

  “Cannot,” she snapped, glaring at him. “I will not allow you to bully Father Gelroy. He’s a man of the cloth. He has explained more than once that he cannot tell you. Leave him alone, or you will have to answer to me.”

  Before anyone could respond to her outburst, Braeden appeared at the stairs and called out. “They’re ready, Laird.”

  Colm reached down and picked up Gabrielle’s chair and moved it to the side.

  “Come with me, Gabrielle,” he ordered as he took her hand and pulled her behind him.

  He didn’t explain where he was leading her, but she was happy to oblige. A moment alone with him would give her the opportunity to explain what had happened at Finney’s Flat.

  They were halfway to the entrance when Colm called over his shoulder, “Liam, I’m marrying Gabrielle.”

  Liam was stunned. “You’re getting married?”

  Gabrielle’s reaction was more intense. “You didn’t even tell your brother? I’ve been here two weeks, and you couldn’t make time—”

  He was all but dragging her toward the steps now. “I have seen my brother as often as you have in the past two weeks.”

  “That isn’t an acceptable excuse,” she muttered.

  Exasperated, he pulled her along down the stairs. “I don’t make excuses.”

  A soldier stood at the door. When he saw them coming, he bowed to Gabrielle and pulled the door open. She thought his action most peculiar. He should have shown deference to his laird, not her.

  A blast of cold air brushed over her face. Colm let go of her and walked outside. He stopped on the top step and beckoned her to come to him.

  The golden light of sunset spilled over a sea of faces watching her. The courtyard was filled with his clan, and more of them covered the hills beyond.

  Gabrielle was so shocked, she could barely keep her wits about her. There seemed to be a thousand men and women staring at her. She tried to catch her breath. No one was smiling. She noticed that right away. Oh, no, had the Boswells gotten to all of these people? She pushed the horrid thought aside. But why did they all look so somber? Since they were crowded together, she couldn’t see if they were holding anything in their hands.

  She moved closer to Colm. Her arm brushed his. She looked up and whispered, “Am I about to be stoned again?”

  “For the love of…” He stopped. He couldn’t be angry with her. Of course she would expect the worst. He hadn’t told her what was going to happen, and God knows, after what she’d been through in the last few weeks, why wouldn’t she be frightened?

  “Do you think I would let anyone harm you? You belong to me now, Gabrielle.”

  Colm turned to his followers, raised one hand high into the air, and said, “After much deliberation, Lady Gabrielle has finally agreed to become my wife. I am fortunate to marry such a passionate and spirited, beautiful and innocent lady. You will welcome her and honor her as you honor me.”

  The crowd erupted into cheers and shouts. All of them were smiling now. Colm pulled her into his arms, tilted her chin up, and kissed her.

  She was overwhelmed. He only kissed her long enough for her to want more, and when he lifted his head, she trembled. The noise swirled around her, and there was but one thought in her mind: there weren’t any stones.

  COLM HADN’T GIVEN HER ANY WARNING. HAD GABRIELLE known he was going to call his clan together to make his announcement, she would have changed her gown and brushed her hair. She didn’t even have time to pinch her cheeks to give them color. The door opened, and there they all were, staring at her.

  An astonished Liam had followed them outside and stood on Colm’s right as he spoke to the clan. Liam seemed pleased by what he called “remarkable news.” Once the cheering had died down and the crowd had dispersed, he slapped his brother on the shoulder and hugged Gabrielle.

  “I thought Gabrielle was our guest because of the help her guards gave me at the abbey, but it appears there’s much more to this visit.” He laughed and gave Colm a shove as they headed back inside. “You’ve been holding out on me, brother. Just how long did I sleep? Evidently I’ve been missing a great deal. I must hear the details.”

  “I’ll explain another time,” Colm said.

  Liam took Gabrielle’s hand and with a wink said, “Are you sure you’ve chosen the right MacHugh, Gabrielle? Colm can be a bear to live with, you know. Perhaps you should reconsider.”

  Colm answered. “There is nothing to reconsider, Liam. Gabrielle is quite happy.” He turned to her. “Aren’t you, Gabrielle?”

  “Why…I…” How could she answer him? Happy? With all that had occurred in the past two weeks, thoughts of happiness had not entered her mind.

  Liam saved her from coming up with an answer. “Need I pester Lady Gabrielle for details?”

  “No, you need not,” Colm replied firmly.

  Gabrielle was relieved when Liam bid them good night and went upstairs. She didn’t want to answer any questions. There was a more pressing matter on her mind. The time had come for her to face Colm with the truth. She needed to be alone with him. Her heart started pounding.

  “Colm…”

  “You look exhausted, Gabrielle. Get some rest.” Dismissing her, he headed for the door.

  She followed him. “May I have a word with you? There is something I must tell you.”

  “Can it wait?” He pulled a torch from its wall bracket to take outside.

  The door swung open and Braeden and Stephen entered. She hoped they would pass through, but neither did. They waited to speak to Colm. He was a busy man with many responsibilities and burdens, she reminded herself.

  “I wanted to…that is to say…I suppose I could wait until tomorrow. Perhaps early in the morning?” she asked.

  Colm nodded, and Gabrielle, feeling weak with relief because she wouldn’t have to tell him tonight, hurried up the steps.

  Father Gelroy was waiting to offer his congratulations, but she didn’t give him the chance. She motioned for him to come closer and then whispered, “I’m so sorry I haven’t told Colm yet. I have twice tried to explain that I and my guards brought Liam to the abbey, but both times we have been interrupted. I think it best if I tell him in private. You had to suffer his anger, and Liam’s, too, because of the promise I forced on you.”

  “The longer you wait, the harder the telling.”

  “Yes, I know, but I do dread it.”

  “Laird MacHugh will be pleased to know that you found his brother and sought help for him.”


  “There is more to the telling than you know, but have no worries. By tomorrow night, Colm will know everything.”

  “As will I?”

  “Yes.”

  She had hoped to tell him in confession, but if she did, she would have to say she was sorry for taking a man’s life, and God would know she wasn’t sincere.

  That man had really needed killing.

  MAURNA WAS THRILLED that Gabrielle was going to marry their laird and told her so several times while serving breakfast.

  “No one believed that foolishness the Boswell boys were spouting, and we were right not to pay them any mind since our laird is making you his wife. He declared you innocent, milady, but we already knew it. Didn’t we, Willa?” she called over her shoulder.

  The cook peeked out from the buttery. “We did. We surely did.”

  “I thank you both for your faith in me.” Gabrielle stared down at a bowl of what appeared to be a thick gray paste.

  “No lady as holy as you are would commit such terrible sins, and besides, our laird wouldn’t be marrying you if those sins were true…which they aren’t,” she hastened to add.

  Willa brought out bread and put it next to the paste. “You eat up now. You could stand to put some fat on those bones.”

  Gabrielle didn’t want to hurt the cook’s feelings, but she had to ask what the paste was before she put any of it in her mouth. It would be more hurtful, she thought, if she started gagging.

  “What do you call this, Willa?” she asked.

  “Breakfast.”

  Maurna brushed some crumbs from the table onto her open hand. “You take your bread, and you dab it in the mush.”

  “Mush?”

  “It’s good for you, milady,” Willa insisted. “It’s made with cooked oats and some of my special spices.”

  “We’ll leave you alone so you can eat while it’s warm,” Maurna said.

  Gabrielle reluctantly picked up her spoon and dipped it into the thick goo. “Maurna, could you explain what you meant when you said no one was as holy—”

  “As you are.”

  “Why would you think I was holy?”