he kept what he learned to himself. He never said what he saw from up there. Yer brother deserves better. Dunnae allow him to become the secretive soul that yer father was.”
“Did he die from a fall?”
“Excuse me?”
Sarina lowered her gaze. “You never said how my father died.” She slid the toe of her blue slipper across the floor’s tiles, a look of pain overtaking her beautiful face.
Guilt seeped into Campbell’s soul as revealing the truth was nae possible. At least, nae yet. “I think it best ye learn more about yer father’s work before we discuss the matter of his death.”
Sarina jerked her head up. “You make it sound as if he died in a horrible way.”
He reached for her hands. “Dundaire isnae like other parts of Scotland. ‘Tis an unusual place, as is Lycansay Hall. Yer father understood its plight and still it took him. And because of that, for now, all I can say is I dunnae have an answer for ye on the matter.” At least that was a partial truth. He didnae actually know the full details of Charles’s death.
Sarina pulled her hands free from Campbell’s hold. “Then I guess we shall be at odds, my lord, because I intend to not only finish my father’s work, but to also uncover everything he kept from me. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to spend time with my brother.”
“Of course.” He motioned with his hand toward the staircase. “I’ll see to it that dinner is brought up as I take it ye willnae care to join me tonight?”
“You’re a very wise man, sir.” With an abrupt pivot, Sarina spun away and headed for the steps.
The shuffle of her soft footsteps vibrated against Campbell’s soul. He closed his eyes. Sarina may think she had a say in her life, but he knew better. Like he, she too was now owned by this land of wicked beasts and vile secrets. This land of darkness where hope had been shredded centuries ago.
He only prayed she wouldnae find it too difficult coming to terms with the situation. As the longer one held on to hope, the quicker one descended into madness. And there was no cure for the affliction, as even his dear Mariah knew that truth.
The rattle of chains echoed up from the dungeons.
Campbell opened his eyes.
Sarina Ogilvy had come to Lycansay Hall of her own volition, ignored his slightest of hints that she would be best to steer clear of this restless land. But Dundaire had called to her. And she answered that call.
And if history had proved one thing to Campbell, it was that changing destiny was beyond even his preternatural powers.
Chapter 5
How Fate could have placed her destiny in the hands of an arrogant man such as Campbell MacHendrie, Sarina hadn’t a clue. And to think God had graced the brute with a handsome face and tempting body. Did the marquis really think she would fall for that threat of him earning her trust and more? And what exactly was this more he spoke of? Her heart? Her passion?
The men of Dundaire were proving to be even more wicked than she’d been told they were.
She fanned her face, her temperature rising.
Campbell MacHendrie had no right getting under her skin as he did. No right at all.
Even his choice of room for her was sinful. Which made her realize she really was out of her element up here in the Scottish Highlands, for apparently, the word room had a different meaning in Dundaire than it had in New York, for the green room was not simply a single chamber as Sarina had expected, but rather a suite of connecting spaces. Four to be exact. All flowing seamlessly under the palest of blue ceilings that bore a tale of Roman soldiers hunting a lone wolf, its body cast in plaster. The detail of the relief made the beast appear almost real. Especially its eyes and teeth, not that she had ever encountered a wolf directly to know exactly what its eyes and teeth looked like, but the gnawing in the pit of her stomach told her the mesmerizing features were accurate.
Dropping her gaze from the ceiling, Sarina slipped her reticule off her wrist.
“Still think Lycansay a saint?” Nevan asked from the parlor’s middle window seat recessed in the front wall. “Only a man of magick could achieve a ceiling like the one in these rooms.”
“Having a taste for the finer things in life, is not evil, Nevan.”