A Laird and a Gentleman (All the King's Men #4) - Gerri Russell Page 0,24
down his spine. What was happening? So many strange occurrences had been happening as of late. All of them had happened when Mariam was near. And emotional as she was now.
Could there be a connection? He narrowed his gaze. She stood perfectly still with her arms wrapped around her waist. The color in her cheeks had drained. She shuddered and closed her eyes as though forcing herself to relax.
As suddenly as it had come, the wind stopped.
“What folly is this?” Cameron asked, reaching for Mariam’s arms.
Her eyes flicked open. Fear once again shone in their depths. She stepped away from his touch. “Stay back. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“How could you possibly hurt me?” He felt the weight of his sword at his side. The weapon had protected him from many dangers. But this was different. The challenge he faced with her was not one that demanded brute force to resolve. Nay, if he wanted her to talk to him, he had to show understanding.
Her body shook as though she were locked in her own personal torment, fighting demons that no one else could see. “You don’t know what I’m capable of.”
“I cannot know anything until you talk to me.” He stood before her, searching her features, willing her to tell him the truth. “What is it? What is different about you since my return? No more lies. It’s just you and me here in the garden.”
“Please . . . don’t force me to marry . . . to go away.” The words were wrenched from her with an effort. “I must stay . . . to figure out where my destiny lies.”
He should take a step back, and put some distance between them until he could evaluate the situation and respond as any other man who might be her guardian would. But he found he could not. Some aspect of her character strangely pulled him toward her no matter how hard he tried to turn away. “What do you mean, your destiny?”
*
Mariam held Cameron’s gaze. In the midst of chaos and fear, he was a point of calm. As she stared at him, she experienced an unexpected and confusing longing for something she could not name, but sensed it had something to do with no longer denying the truth. Something was happening to her. She was changing. Cameron clearly sensed it, and perhaps neither of them could deny it any longer. She would be a coward if she didn’t tell him what she suspected was happening to her. She had nothing to lose even if he didn’t accept what she said. He was about to send her away. There was no greater risk than that.
She drew a deep breath as she lifted her face to the sun, letting the warming rays give her the strength she needed. Then she took Cameron’s hands in her own and focused on whatever it was inside her that she’d been fighting for so long. She closed her eyes and looked inward, deep into her own essence, searching—searching for a long-buried secret. But was that secret good or bad?
Gradually, something inside her stirred. Haltingly at first, then with increasing strength and warmth. It coursed through her veins. Pumped through her heart. Engulfed her soul, until warmth filled her entire being.
She opened her eyes.
Cameron watched her closely, but there was no fear in his eyes, only questions. “Your skin . . . it is more luminous than ever.”
“Aye,” she replied. For perhaps the first time ever, she allowed herself to ponder whatever it was inside her, and she found nothing to indicate it was evil. She felt warmth, like that of the sun, surrounding them both. The air filled with an overwhelming scent of roses.
“What has caused such a thing?”
“I’m not quite certain, but I think it is magic.”
“Magic, nay. But something. Have you any idea what is happening to you?”
“I have no idea. But the other day when you sent me to clean the lady’s chapel, I fell and broke the shell on my necklace.”
“How does the necklace relate to what is happening to you now?”
“Inside the shell was a message from my mother, written on a piece of parchment. It said, ‘On the seventh day from the opening of the shell, you will come into your own.’”
“Meaning what, exactly?”
She shrugged. “I have no idea, but I had feared it was something horrible, given who my father is.”
His gaze narrowed. “You are not your father, Mariam.”