Rory put the snifter down and rose, taking her in his arms and kissing the top of her red curls. “It’s too late for that now,” he said. “It was probably too late before I married you. You’re not getting rid of me so easily.”
She looked up at him. “I don’t want to be rid of you. But the spell—” She shook her head. “I don’t like it.”
“Which part? The finding true love?”
“The sacrifice. A sacrifice is never good, Rory.”
“Well, if it was easy to rid oneself of a curse, everyone would do it.”
She laughed and gave him a playful punch in the back. “I couldn’t seem to focus on anything after I read the spell. How does the duke end the letter?”
“He says he thinks we should return to Scotland. He’s written to King as well to see if he agrees. If so, we’ll meet there—at St. Andrew’s.”
“The school you attended? You said you never wanted to go back there.”
“I don’t, but I may not have a choice.”
“You always have a choice, but if you feel it’s something you must do, I want to go with you.”
He shook his head.
“And don’t argue. I won’t let you do this alone. Besides, if I don’t go, who will keep you from killing the headmaster? The last thing we need is your being brought up on murder charges.”
“I’m sure the man is no longer there.”
“And if he is?”
“Then you’re right. I’ll have to kill him.”
Chapter Twenty
Genevieve pulled backat the tone in his voice, lifted the snifter, and offered it to him. Rory took it. He needed a drink. Just thinking about the old headmaster made him feel angry and queasy at the same time. After he’d had several sips, Genevieve took his hand and brought it to her lips.
“Thank you for offering to accompany me,” he said. “But Scotland is a long way—”
“There’s no point in trying to talk me out of it. If you’re determined, then so am I. We’ll have to bring Frances as well.”
Rory shook his head. “I don’t want her anywhere near that school.”
She kissed his knuckles. “She doesn’t need to go near the school, but, considering her penchant for running away and her fear of abandonment, I don’t want to put hundreds of miles between us.”
Rory gave a short laugh. He couldn’t argue, and truth be told, there was comfort in having his wife and daughter with him if he had to return to St. Andrew’s and the witch’s hovel, which had been the scene of the curse.
“More brandy?” she asked quietly. “You look paler than I’ve ever seen you.”
“I’m fine.”
“You keep saying that. Are you trying to convince me or yourself?”
He glanced up at her. “Both?”
She gestured to his lap, and he opened his arms. She climbed onto him and wrapped her arms about him, resting her head on his chest. Rory closed his eyes and tried to take the comfort offered. But closing his eyes only brought memories of his school days back. He’d worked so hard over the years to banish them, and now they’d be dredged up again, whether he wanted to examine them or not.
“Can you talk about it?” she asked, voice muffled against his chest. “What happened at that school?”
Whathadn’thappened? He’d known Henry and King before he arrived at St. Andrew’s. They’d met at Tonbridge and been unceremoniously expelled together. Their parents had been hesitant to allow them to remain together, but St. Andrew’s Preparatory for Boys was the last option for all three. He’d arrived first, ahead of Henry and King, and barely said goodbye to his father before the headmaster grabbed him by the ear, pulled him into his office, and backhanded him across the face. Rory lay on the floor, his ears ringing, and looked up at the man in shock.
“Let that be a warning tae ye,” he’d said. “Ye’ll behave or I’ll beat ye until it hurts tae breathe.”
