Down the Rabbit Hole

She couldn’t contain her overwhelming grief. Great, wrenching sobs were torn from her throat. And as she gathered him into her arms, she wept until there were no tears left.

CHAPTER TEN

Beside the little chapel in the garden, Beth stood to one side as the villagers paused at the fresh mound of earth to whisper a prayer or drop a rose petal onto the moist soil.

The chapel had been abuzz with the murder of young Hamish Campbell, and the rumor that Ian and Edwina, running from the scene, had been caught up in the churning, swollen waters of a stream and had both perished. As yet, their bodies had not been recovered.

It mattered not to Beth. Colin was dead, and whatever the fate of his stepsiblings, it wouldn’t bring him back to her.

When all the villagers had left, it was time for the staff of Stag’s Head Lodge to pay their final respects. Old Maura leaned heavily on the arm of the young serving lass, Glenna, tears streaming down both their faces. Mistress MacKay knelt to place a bowl of the laird’s favorite bread pudding on the grave. Poor Jamie could hardly contain the grief that had him rubbing at his eyes and turning away.

And then, finally, as the sun began to set and dusk settled over the land, Beth was alone. She dropped to her knees and allowed the tears to flow. Great choking sobs were torn from her throat as she knelt beside the grave, wishing with all her heart that she could join her love.

“How cruel of the Fates to give me a taste of true love, and then demand that I go on living alone,” she whispered.

She was so caught up in grief, she could barely recall the events of the day. It had been Jamie who had found her, lying beside the laird on Stag’s Head Peak, her arms locked around his still body, her face buried in his neck. The lad had to pry her arms free. Wrapping her in a dry woolen cloak, he’d helped her up to the saddle of his mount before draping the laird’s body across the back of his favorite stallion.

Taking up the reins of the laird’s horse, the lad pulled himself up behind Beth and was forced to hold tightly to her or she would have surely fallen, she was so limp and weakened by her grief and pain.

As they’d made their way back to the lodge, people in the village came out of their houses and stood in silence, watching the sad procession. All had known about the curse, and all had kept the laird’s secret, out of love and devotion to him.

When they’d reached the courtyard of the lodge, every member of the laird’s staff stood in a straight column, heads bowed, faces somber.

An old man hobbled forward and helped Jamie remove the laird’s body from the horse. At once old Maura appeared with a length of ivory linen in which to wrap the body.

When that was done, Jamie indicated Beth. “The lady needs tending.”

“No.” She slid from the saddle and knelt on the stone paving to place a hand on the linen shroud. “My needs are not important now. First we must see to the laird, and give him a proper burial.”

“Aye.” Maura, grateful for the chance to do something, took charge. “We’ll summon the old friar and send word to the village that the laird’s funeral will be before dusk.”

And so it had been done. Right now the villagers and the members of the laird’s household retreated to the great hall, eating a meal in Colin’s honor, and talking quietly among themselves about the good man they had lost, and what would happen to Stag’s Head Lodge going forward. There was word that the old laird’s brother had a son, a cousin near the age of Colin, whose quiet dignity and calm demeanor would continue the course set by his predecessors.

And now, Beth thought, her own future stretched out before her, empty and meaningless. She had found the great love of her life. And, just as quickly, had lost him.

Was it possible for her, after all this, to return to the life she’d known before Colin?

The thought of returning to the city, of struggling daily to please her stern, demanding aunt, of pretending that the work she did, the business she conducted, meant anything at all to her, was unimaginable.

How could she possibly go on?

Even though I must die, I will never leave you.

“But you have, Colin. Why did you make that impossible promise?” Her whispered words caused a fresh round of tears. “You’ve left me, and nothing will ever be the same.”

She wished with all her heart that the world would just go away and leave her to this all-encompassing grief.

Drained beyond belief, she closed her eyes.

*   *   *

“Here, now. What’s this? What’s happened?”

When Beth heard that much-loved voice, her eyes opened and she found herself staring into the familiar eyes of her beloved.

“Colin?”

“Aye. I’m Colin Gordon. And you’d be . . . ?”

“Beth. Beth Campbell.” She struggled to sit up. “But you’re . . .”