Page 31 of Highland Yule
Chapter Ten
Adlin had insistedColmac follow him and Rona up to her chambers, so he did, suspecting all the while what the former chieftain was leading her toward. What he was not sure of, however, was how he felt about that.
After all, many a year ago, he had raced into this castle one Hogmanay night, hoping to have something forged for him despite the late hour. Where that had gotten to, though, remained a mystery.
“Sweet Heaven,” Rona whispered, awed as Adlin opened the door to her chambers. “’Tis just as I left it.”
“But of course, lass.” A fire crackled on the hearth and candles flickered. Food and drink lay invitingly on the side table. The air smelled faintly of evergreen and juniper. A clan true to Hogmanay tradition, someone would have walked from room to room earlier in the day with a burning juniper branch to discourage evil spirits and chase away disease for the New Year.
“Did ye expect yer chamber would change, Rona?” Adlin arched a brow. “Ye’re kin.”
She smiled and stopped when she spied what lay on the bed.
“Lord above.” She drifted to the satiny red dress. “This is lovely.”
“’Tis yers to wear this eve.” Adlin gestured to her bedside table. “But there is more, lass.” His kind gaze went to her. “Something awaits ye.”
Her eyes widened at the scroll on the table. Just like the others, it was tied in red ribbon only the holly was fresh like the first missive. “It came from here.” Her attention returned to Adlin. “The ribbon around all of them came from here.”
“Aye.” Adlin shook his head. “But not the letters themselves.” He looked from Colmac to her. “Those came from Bróccín.”
“But how did he get the ribbon after he fell sick?” Colmac asked. “How did he get the scrolls spread about? The scroll that was there when Rona first awakened?”
“I will tell ye later.” Adlin gestured at the scroll again. “Until then, ‘tis best ye spend another moment or two with yer brother, lad.” His gaze went to Colmac, quite serious. “For this is his last communication.”
He left, shutting the door softly behind him.
Rona scooped up the scroll, sat on the bed, and stared at it. “The last then?”
“Aye.” He sat beside her and eyed it too, both sad and curious. “’Tis odd. Two days ago I thought I had long said goodbye to my brother, but I feel as if he stands here with us now...as if these are indeed his last words.”
“Aye.” She untied it slowly, her gaze full of sentiment. “Though sad, I thought it would be worse...harder.”
“There has already been a year of grieving,” he reminded. “Even longer for ye as ye were apart whilst he battled.”
“Aye, ‘tis not just that, though,” she whispered. Her hands stilled on the ribbon, and her eyes met his. “’Tis because ye’re here going through it with me...giving me strength.”
