Tempest Heart - Paula Quinn Page 0,47
like an eternity, and then she saw her father.
Oh, she hadn’t been sure she would ever see him again. He pulled her into his arms and wept into her hair, telling her over and over that he thought she was dead.
She wept as well, trying to speak but not knowing where to begin. He promised to hear it all later, but first, she should go freshen up and then meet him in the great hall.
Rose had to admit, freshening up sounded wonderful. Being in the castle again so soon felt a little suffocating. She’d been hoping for adventures in Hamilton. She had hoped to live in Crawford, and to love on the way back home with a man who was a merciless killer to most, but perfect to her.
How would she tell her father? Her hands shook.
She looked around for any of the servants, but everyone was gone. She would be even more alone than she was before.
On her way to her chambers, she met Jamie Cavanaugh. He came to her and looked into her eyes. “Is it true then? Only you have made it back alive?”
She looked at the thresh-covered floor. “Aye. The men gave their lives for mine.”
“Of course, they did. Anything for Rose.”
She looked at him, hating his animosity toward her. “None of us could have known the pestilence was in Crawford. I—”
“Aye. Of course,” he cut her off, gave her a forced smile, and then walked away.
Rose stood there watching him go. She didn’t know what to say, or what to do. He blamed her for the men dying. His wife had been sent away because of Tristan, along with the other wives and almost all the servants. His accusation was true. If she hadn’t wanted to leave Dumfries so bad, the men would all still be alive—until Tristan got there. He would have come here and killed her father and possibly the fourteen guards protecting the earl.
Everything would have happened differently if she hadn’t wanted to go to Emma’s home for the winter, if she hadn’t gotten the plague and met Tristan.
She wanted to weep for the fallen soldiers, and she had wept for them, but she wasn’t sorry for wanting time away from Callanach Castle.
She reached her chamber door and stepped inside. It was as if she had never left. Then she remembered that she hadn’t been gone long.
She went to her bed and sat on it, suddenly exhausted.
Was Tristan still alive? She realized the only way she would know if he lived or died was if he came here.
She didn’t remember when she began crying, or how long she’d been at it when she fell asleep.
She slept as if she’d been hit with a large stone and didn’t awaken until the next morning, when someone gave her a gentle shake. “Wake up, my lady. Wake up.”
Rose opened her eyes and smiled at one of her maids. “Good morning, Alana. I thought you had all left.”
“Aye, some did. They are all afraid of that Tristan MacPherson,” the maid said with disgust. “I returned when I heard you had come home.”
“Brave Alana,” Rose gushed over her as she sat up, “do not be afraid of Tristan. He will not hurt you.”
Alana studied her for a moment and then a crimson streak colored her cheeks and her dark blue eyes grew hard. “You speak softly about the man coming to kill your father.”
“I…I did not know his mission until just a few days ago. I was able to talk him out of killing my father. When and if he comes here, we will speak about my mother’s death and my father will prove his innocence.”
“Again,” Alana murmured.
Rose opened her mouth to try to explain, but Alana cut her off. “’Tis true then, you have feelings for him?”
“You spoke to the captain then.” It wasn’t a question. There was no other way in the world Alana could interpret such a thing in so little time with her.
“No.”
But how? Was she so transparent?
“Alana, I—”
“I will bring you a fresh gown and then help you prepare to see your father. He has been up with the sun awaiting you.”
Rose nodded and watched the maid enter the smaller part of the chambers to go through her gowns. Alana had been in the Callanach family’s service for over thirty years. Her loyalty to the earl was understandable. Her dislike for Rose was not. It was as if she blamed Rose for not being born a male. Who would take the castle