O Night Divine A Holiday Collection of Spirited Christmas Tales - Kathryn Le Veque Page 0,310

to the workhouse, ye’ll end up dead on the streets—or worse. I canna go to my grave knowing I left ye in such straits.”

The child dove forward and wrapped her arms around her mother’s waist. “I dinna want ye to die.” Her muffled sobs broke Tait’s heart. “Please dinna leave me,” the little girl begged.

The woman hugged her tight for a long moment as she closed her eyes and rested her cheek atop the wee lass’s head. “I love ye, Ellie, love ye more than ye’ll ever know.” Gently, she pulled herself out of the girl’s arms and eased back a step. “Remember what I told ye?”

Ellie sniffed, wiped her nose on the back of her hand, then nodded. She stared at the ground, avoiding her mother’s eyes.

“Tell me now, so I’ll know ye remember it rightly.” The mother gently slid a finger under Ellie’s chin and lifted, peering at the child with a pointed but kindly look. “Tell me, lass. Tell me what I told ye.”

“Soon as I learn writin’, I’m to send word to the Mackenzies at Wrath Keep. They’ll know how to find Da and have him come get me.” The lass’s bottom lip quivered as she lifted her teary-eyed gaze. “I wish Da already knew about me. I wish he couldha come and got ye, too.” She shook with a hiccupping sob. “I wish he couldha got us afore ye got sick. Living in a better place maybe wouldha helped ye.”

The bedraggled woman sadly bowed her head. “I know, child.” A fierce spasm of coughing and wheezing interrupted her. Wiping blood from her mouth with the back of her hand, she patted the girl’s shoulder. “Can ye ever forgive me for my prideful choices? Can ye forgive me for bein’ a fool?” She cradled her daughter’s cheek in her hand. “I never learnt to read or write and never had enough coin to hire a message writ for me. Please say ye forgive me, Ellie. All I have to leave ye is my love. Please let that be enough.”

The child Ellie had been just moments ago seemed to fade away before Tait’s eyes. A mantle of maturity, the wisdom of an old soul, settled across her. The little girl gave her mother a brave smile. “Yer love has always been more than enough, Mama. There’s nothing to forgive. I know ye did the best ye could.” She straightened her shoulders and stood taller. “I love ye, Mama. Hie on back to the priest now whilst ye can still make it. He said he’d give ye shelter in the crypt long as ye needed.” The child’s courage faltered, and she stared back at the ground. “He said ye can stay there even after,” she whispered. “Least I’ll know ye’ll be on holy ground.”

Tait couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried. He’d not even wept when his beloved parents had passed. Damn it all to hell and back. He ached so badly for young Ellie and her mother, he wanted to keen his sorrow for all to hear. “How could one so young be so brave?” he asked in a rasping whisper.

“Good enough.” Queen Augusta took his hand and placed it on the ruby. “Time to move on.”

Now they stood inside the workhouse, but the Ellie in front of him was older. She looked to be almost grown but overly thin and pale.

The spirit pointed her staff at the girl where she stood hunched over a table, pinning the seams of a garment. “See the chains? She endured seven years of this place before she was able to get a message to old Hobbs. Escaped twice, trying to send it off. Last time she ran, they dragged her back and shackled her to that table. Eat. Sleep. Chamber pot. It didna matter. She never moved from that spot.” Queen Augusta glowed brighter again, her proud smile shining like a beacon. “But she never lost hope. Never missed her wishes, prayers, nor lost her spirit. Does that sound like a meek lass? A mousy, cowardly bit of a girl afeared of her own shadow?”

“I never called her mousy or afraid.” But he had called her meek. And quiet. And proper. He had known Hobbs had rescued her from a workhouse. But she’d looked so healthy and content when he’d first met her; he’d figured her to have been at one of the less fearsome places. Of course, he hadn’t met her until six months after Hobbs had saved her.