A Very Highland Holiday - Kathryn Le Veque Page 0,168

of Sorrow by way of the tavern common area. “I’ve speculated on it over the years. She was a cousin of my mother. I think she was desperate to give my da two sons, while my mama had only been able to give him one.”

“There are no guarantees. She risked her life when her second child could have been another lass.”

“Aye. But jealousy does strange things to people.” Sadness edged her words.

He was instantly reminded of her brothers and how they’d left Thea to her fate for their resentful reasons. “Seems it ran in her blood.”

“Aye.”

They reached the common room, which had taken on a more pleasant odor than before. Bows of holly had been spread near the hearth, ropes of pine on the mantel, and the dogs were gone, as were their messy piles. Platters of currant scones were in the centers of the tables, and jugs of what smelled like cider were beside them.

“Och, but ye’ve come out,” Carrie said. “Have a scone. Cook’s specialty on Christmas morn.”

“Perhaps after we see your Chamber of Sorrow?” Sarah said. “Unless Tobias, would enjoy one now?”

For a moment, he forgot that she’d renamed him for the sake of their anonymity. Sarah indicated the table to Thane where a steaming pile of scones rested.

“Will they still be here when we come back?” he asked Carrie.

“Of course, and if they’re looking to get a bit low, I’ll set one aside for ye.”

He flashed the woman a grateful smile, working hard to endear themselves to their hosts, so when the Campbells eventually came by, Thane and Sarah would be the last ones from their minds. A happy, jovial couple, versus a villain with an abducted lass, was not likely to be mentioned. “Our thanks.”

“We aim to please at Balthazar’s.” She waved them to follow, leading them back through the various chambers until they reached her own bedchamber. “I keep it back here so no one can sneak in.”

The door to the Chamber of Sorrow was not locked, Sarah noted.

Carrie pushed the door open, which creaked and groaned, revealing a black cavern and swish of air that felt every bit as heavy as Sarah had imagined it would. Their host disappeared into the yawning dark, and Sarah had the intense urge to run. Nothing about this place felt good.

There was a spark as Carrie lit a candle, the flash illuminating her pale, freckled face and the weapons behind her. Several more bursts, and then finally, she brought the chamber to glow, exposing the contents of the room.

And with it, whether real or imagined, the scent of death.

Dawning horror rained down on Sarah, prickling her skin, seizing her throat. When she made a move to enter, her feet remained rooted in place as if her subconscious were fearful of entering. She gripped onto Thane’s arm like an anchor, and he led her inside.

“Gathered these up from the battlefield.” Carrie swept the candle high, revealing weapons that hung on the plastered walls with crude hooks. “And when others realized what I was doing here, they’ve brought me more.”

A claymore, distinctly a rebel weapon, and above it a musket with a bayonet on the end—dragoon. Here at odds for eternity. They’d at least been cleaned before being put on display.

“Been a few times now. I take the wagon with me.” She moved about the room, showing broken arrow shafts, a bow with the string snapped.

An English sword, and another claymore. Sarah studied every weapon for signs of familiarity.

“Is the battlefield close to here?” Sarah asked. If so, she’d ask Thane to take her when the weather dissipated. She wanted to pay respects to the place where her brother had died.

“Och, nay,” Carried fluttered her hand as if it weren’t a big deal. “Several days ride in the wagon.” Her voice had taken on a somber tone. “So many were lost in the battle. This is my shrine to their memory.”

Sarah suppressed a shudder as her eyes caught on a Highland cap, the white rosette cockade stained red with blood.

“Did ye lose someone close to ye?” Sarah asked. It was increasingly difficult to conceal her emotions from Carrie, and she was glad for the shadows in the room that hid her expression.

“Aye.” But Carrie did not expound on that, and Sarah was afraid of delving too deep.

Afraid she might reveal something about herself and Thane. “I’m verra sorry for your loss,” she managed.

Carrie made a non-committal sound but did not return the sentiment. “I’ll leave the two of ye