“By the saints!” Sybil’s hand went to his chest. “What did Lovat do?”
“Now, we Highlanders appreciate a bold gesture,” Rory said. “Lovat was verra fond of his daughter, but he could see that this brash young MacKenzie chieftain would make either a strong ally or a dangerous enemy.”
“So he simply handed over his daughter?” She was disgusted, but not surprised.
“Lovat was inclined toward the match, but he said he’d let his daughter decide,” Rory said. “He sent for her to join him on the wall.”
“Since they did marry, I assume she said aye to protect her clan from attack.”
“That’s not the reason she gave me.”
“What persuaded her, then, his fine looks?” She was only half joking. If Rory took after his father, she could understand.
“Perhaps that was part of it,” Rory said with a chuckle. “But as she told the tale to me, it was what my father said to her when she stood on the wall.”
Sybil gripped his elbow. “Did he threaten her?”
“He told her she had stolen his heart and that he would love her until the end of his days.”
Sybil could not help but sigh. What woman would not be tempted to run off with the handsome young chieftain who would make that declaration in front of the warriors of two clans? But such bold gestures and extravagant promises bespoke of a passion that could leave as quickly as it came. Most likely he broke the poor lass’s heart and took a mistress within a year.
“’Tis a lovely story,” Sybil said. “Did she come to regret going with him?”
“My parents’ marriage was a happy one,” Rory said, but the jocular tone he used while telling the story was gone. “My mother drowned during a storm a month after my father died. Some say she slipped into the river. Others say she could not bear to live without him.”
***
Rory urged Curan into a canter as they followed the familiar path home. He was anxious to finally reach Killin and speak with his sister. Yet when he heard the sound of the waterfall, he slowed Curan to a walk and turned toward the river, as he always did.
The roar of the falls grew louder as they rode on the trail through the thick brush to the river. Rory brought Curan to a halt beside the large, flat rock ledge overlooking the top of the falls, where he always stopped, and watched the rushing river tumble over the falls to the jutting black rocks twenty feet below.
“What is this place?” Sybil asked.
“Rogie Falls,” he said. “This is where my mother died.”
The rock ledge was slick from spray even in good weather, and it had been storming all that day. Rory imagined the trail slippery with mud, the driving rain bouncing off the rocks, and the wind pummeling his mother’s cloak against her legs. It would have been easy for her to lose her footing.
And yet Rory could never quite accept that his mother had fallen. She was familiar with the path and the danger of the falls. He could think of only one reason for her to come here in the midst of a storm. Absorbed in her own pain over the loss of her husband, she chose to end her life and leave her children orphans.
At fifteen, Rory had been nearly a man, but he found it hard to forgive her for abandoning his younger brother and sister. Losing her had been hard, especially after their father’s death. At least Alex and Catriona did not know what she had done. Her parting gift to them was to make her death look like an accident.
“You and your mother were close?” Sybil asked.
“I thought we were.” He thought he knew her, but he never would have guessed she would abandon them.
Rory felt someone watching them and snapped his gaze across the river. The brush was too thick to see if anyone was hiding there, but it probably was his imagination. Ever since his mother’s death, the falls made him feel uneasy, as if there was a hidden evil here.
“What’s wrong?” Sybil asked.
“Nothing,” he said, and turned Curan around. But he did not relax until the sound of the falls faded behind them.
CHAPTER 21
Two miles after the falls, Rory’s spirits lifted when they crested a hill and he saw the familiar two-story stone house in the midst of green, fertile fields. He dismounted and lifted Sybil down to stand beside him.
“That’s Killin,” he said, pointing. “It was my father’s wedding gift to my mother. She always loved it, and they came here often when they wanted to get away from the castle.”
“I can see why.” Sybil tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and leaned her head against his shoulder. “’Tis so peaceful here.”