been a MacNachton, she knew she would have been making a fool of herself trying to draw his interest her way. She had a strong inclination to do so now. The light touch of a hand upon her arm startled her, and she turned to face a concerned Barbara.
“Ye look verra troubled and sad, lass.” Barbara watched Jankyn stride out of the great hall. “Mayhap ye should—”
“Nay.” Efrica glanced around to be sure they could speak without being heard. “He is a MacNachton. I have naught against them. I ken they arenae creatures from a nightmare, soulless undead demons who see the rest of us as naught but food. Howbeit, what he is makes him unsuitable. Barbara, he cannae e’er join me in a walk through a garden to watch the morning sun dry the dew upon the flowers. He is already nearly thirty years my senior and e’en he cannae say how much longer he will live, but ’tis surely a verra, verra long time. We willnae grow old together. He is the only one born amongst the Purebloods for more than two score years. Tis clear the seed of a Pureblood is weak. Aye, despite his lecherous ways, Jankyn has bred but one child and that upon an Outsider, a MacMartin. A mon now and one who must still be cautious about how long he stays out in the sun in the full light of day. I want children, Barbara.”
“Your sister—”
“Her husband isnae a Pureblood.” She shook her head. “I weel understand the curse of ancient bloodlines that mark one as, weel, different. The Callans have dealt with it for generations, aye? Jankyn can toss grown men about as if they weighed nay more than a cushion. Those teeth he is careful to hide would make a wolf envious. He can rip a mon’s throat out and drink deep of the blood that flows from that mortal wound. Aye, the MacNachtons have strict rules about such things now, saving such savagery for thieves, murderers, and enemies. He would have done it to the men who attacked me if I hadnae stopped him. The urge was there. To recover from being in the sun even that short while he needed to drink wine enriched with blood.” She nodded when Barbara frowned. “Aye—too different.”
“It does make our ancestress seem nay so bad,” murmured Barbara.
“Aye. Better a cat than a wolf. And the Callans have worked hard to breed it out until there is naught but a shadow of her left. The MacNachtons have only begun to do the same. Twill be a long time ere many of them can walk freely amongst us.”
“I understand all ye say, but I think your heart doesnae completely agree with your head.”
“Nay, it doesnae, but I will make it do so.”
“E’en if he returns your feelings?”
“Aye, tempting as that may be. I might be able to accept all the other things, but when I waver, there is one thought, one hard cold fact, that always stiffens my spine.”
“And that is?”
“I may be able to condemn myself to living in the shadows, but I willnae condemn my children to doing the same.”
Four
She did not care that she had not seen Jankyn for a week, Efrica told herself firmly as she left the garden and entered the castle. The fact that she had spent a large part of her time in the garden looking up at the window to his chambers was just a matter of curiosity. It was a huge lie, but she clung to it. It was best to remind herself that the time she had just spent in the sun, enjoying its warmth and savoring the scent of roses, was exactly why Jankyn was not the man for her. He could not have even looked out upon the garden if the sun was shining in the window.
“Greetings, Efrica.”
Startled, she looked around and saw David sitting on the floor, his back against the stone wall. That was odd enough, but looking more closely, she realized he looked pale. As she stepped closer, she also noticed that he trembled slightly. Quickly kneeling by his side, she lightly touched his face, wondering if he was fevered.
“Are ye ill?” she asked.
“Nay, only weakened.” He smiled faintly. “I took Mistress Fiona for a stroll in the gardens and lingered longer than was wise. Twill pass. I can abide the sun, ye ken, but must be wary when ’tis at its strongest, and I forgot that for a wee while.”
Efrica sat down beside him. She wondered how long he had sat here, for she had not seen him or Fiona in the gardens. He had the look of his father despite his dark red hair. The purity of his features, his lean, graceful body, and his dark golden eyes marked him as a MacNachton. Obviously there were other less welcome similarities as well.
“Do ye need anything? I could help ye to your chambers.”
“Nay. Och, aye, a wee bit of Father’s wine might speed my recovery, but I try to resist that cure. I wish to marry, ye ken, and that sort of thing can alarm a wife.”
“Aye, but do ye mean to ne’er tell your wife about the MacNachtons? Ne’er return to Cambrun?”
He shook his head. “Nay, I willnae live a lie nor scorn my kinsmen.” He sat up a little straighter. “I want to wed Mistress Fiona, and it appears her family welcomes my wooing of her. I have begun to carefully prepare the way for the truth, though it may need to be hidden from her kinsmen, at least for a while. Howbeit, I cannae hide all that I am from my wife, can I?”
“Nay, ye cannae. Especially if ye feel the need to, weel, mark her as your mate.”
David nodded. “I feel it. That will be the hardest thing to explain. I fear I could lose her because of it, but I will have to tell her ere we wed. I but hope to make her love me enough to accept it all.”
Thinking of how the dainty, brown-haired Fiona looked at David, Efrica smiled. “I think she does care for you.”
“I think so, too, but it needs to be deep and strong. Father warned me that some women cannae accept it all. Aye, my mother couldnae. Tis why she wouldnae marry him. That and the fact that she foresaw how he would look as she aged, that he would soon look more like her son than her husband.”
Efrica knew that feeling. “That could also cause ye some trouble, I suppose.”
“I dinnae think I am of that ilk. I have aged as I should thus far. I dinnae heal as easily or as fast, either. Most of us who are bred of both worlds do live long lives, but nay so long as to raise much more than admiration in others.” He started to stand up, smiling when Efrica moved to help him. “My strength is returning. Since meeting Fiona, I have occasionally cursed my heritage, but there are some verra good things about it, too.”
When he took a step, he was a little unsteady, and Efrica quickly linked her arm through his. “Do ye want to go to your father now?”
“Wheesht, nay. I just need a bed to lie on, and mine suits as weel as his. He isnae in his chambers now, anyway, but in the ledger room, or whate’er it is called. He has been hard at work in his search this last sennight.”
Efrica ignored the curiosity in the look he gave her as she walked with him. “He said something about researching his heritage, but exactly what does he search for? I thought the MacNachtons had already gathered all that was kenned about their heritage yet he apparently has some questions about his own.”
“He does. We dinnae ken it all. Tis difficult for a MacNachton to travel in search of information, aye? Dangerous, as weel. Not long afore our laird wed Lady Bridget, one of ours was caught whilst aroaming and brutally executed. The priest of a village declared him a demon, ye ken.”
