“Osgard once told me it was because neither Talorc nor the clan trusted me to be alone. Because I am English.”
“You did not believe him, did you?” Emily looked ready to do bodily harm to an old warrior. “It is obvious your clan loves and trusts you.”
Abigail nodded in agreement. “Even after finding out about my secret.”
“It is so different from Father’s keep, is it not?”
“Oh, yes. I feel so free here.”
“And valued.”
Filled with pleasure at the thought, Abigail smiled. “Yes. For so long the only two people who believed I had value were you and the abbess. Now, I have a whole clan.”
It would probably amaze her until the day she died, but she would thank God for it every day, too.
“It’s wonderful.” Emily started crying again. She’d been doing that a lot.
Abigail laid her hand over Emily’s stomach. “Sister, are you sure there is not something you wish to tell me? I do not remember you being so easily led to tears, happy or otherwise.”
“It’s not certain. I am only a little over a week past when my monthly should have begun. But I can feel a change in my body, odd food cravings and nausea at the idea of meals I usually love. I have not told Lachlan yet, though I imagine he must know.” Emily laughed, her delight at the prospect evident. “I did not want him to use it as an excuse to put off our visit.”
“When will the baby come?”
“If my calculations are correct, early spring.”
“That is such wonderful news.”
“Thank you. I did not expect to have two babies so close together. Gail is only eight months old.”
“They will be playmates.”
“I imagine they will, but I sense this one is a boy.”
“I’m sure that will not stop them.”
“Oh, Abigail, I am so happy to have you back in my life,” Emily said with a hiccupping sigh.
“Me, too.” Abigail gave her sister a spontaneous hug. “I wish you could stay longer.”
Emily nodded. “But you will come to Balmoral Island for a visit soon, Talorc has promised.”
“Yes, and he keeps his promises.”
“It is good to be able to trust your husband in such things.”
“It is.” Abigail let her gaze slide to the sleeping baby and then back to her sister. “Um . . . there is something I have been wishing to discuss with you.” The one worry she desperately needed her sister’s wisdom in dealing with.
They had already briefly discussed the Una problem and Emily had made no bones about the fact that she thought the other woman should be sent away. Abigail should have been prepared for the protective stance and realized Emily would be no more unbiased than she was, just in a different direction.
She’d brought it up to Guaire and he had suggested she discuss it with her husband, since as laird he had a right to know Una was once again flaunting his directive to accept Abigail as lady of the Sinclairs.
But as frustrating as Una was, she was not Abigail’s most pressing concern.
Emily cocked her head at Abigail’s prolonged silence. “What is it?”
“You remember what the English priests taught about deafness?”
“The demon thing?” Emily frowned. “Pshaw. We know that isn’t true. You haven’t been worrying about that old tale, have you?”
“I’ve been hearing voices in my head,” she bluntly admitted.
“Voices? In your head?” Emily asked, not sounding overly concerned. In fact, if it was not stretching the bounds of belief too far, Abigail would have said her sister sounded almost
“When Talorc and I are making love, I imagine I hear his voice and once I heard the howling of a wolf. Sometimes I think it is just my imagination, because I so desperately want to hear his voice when I can hear nothing else. Only it is so real and, Emily . . . I don’t remember what other things sound like. Not the chirping of a bird, the gurgling of a brook, the sound of wind in the trees or even your voice. Yet, I hear his so clearly. And from what I can remember, it is unlike any voice I heard before losing sound.”
Emily’s brilliant smile made no sense. “You need to tell Talorc, though I’m surprised he has not already noted the situation.”
“I did tell him.”
Emily’s brows furrowed. “What did he say?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing?” She shook her head. “That idiot.”
“My husband is not an idiot. He did not judge me. He did confirm he was not worried about it.” Which at first had fed her fears Talorc planned to banish her, but then she had seen his acceptance for the gift it was.
“Of course he isn’t worried. He knows exactly why you are hearing his voice and that of his wolf in your head.” Emily’s pansy eyes snapped with annoyance.
“His wolf?” Abigail was more than a little confused. “You mean the big gray wolf that is friend to the clan?”
“That gray wolf is more than friend.” Emily jumped up and began pacing the floor.
“You’ve seen it, too?”
“Only from a distance.”
“I’ve seen it up close twice.” She told her sister about the walk in the woods with Niall and then about her near miss with the boar. “The wolf saved my life.”
“Of course he did. He is your husband, your mate.”
“Emily . . . I am not married to a wolf.” She went right from worrying about her own sanity to that of her sister’s.
Chapter 18
Perhaps Emily’s pregnancy was causing her mind to play tricks on her.
But Emily did not look like she was fantasizing when she said, “Yes, you are.”
“Emily—”
“They are werewolves, Abigail.”
“Don’t tease me. I know I believed Anna’s stories of werewolves in the Highlands as if they were gospel and they scared me, but I am no longer a child. And I’m really worried about these voices.”
“I’m not teasing you.” Emily’s violet eyes mirrored her frustration. “Have I ever lied to you?”
“No.”
“I am not lying now. There is a special race who live among the clans here in the Highlands.”
“The Chrechte.”
“So, Talorc told you about them.”
“Yes.”
“He didn’t tell you everything if you do not know they are werewolves.”
“Werewolves are only a story,” Abigail reminded her sister stubbornly.
“No, they aren’t. They are real and Talorc is one. I think it is time I told you the story of how I came to be wed to Lachlan.”
Abigail’s astonishment grew as her sister told her the story. So did the growing realization that Emily believed every word she said, and if she believed them, they were probably true, which meant so were Anna’s stories. Werewolves were real.
If anyone else had claimed such, Abigail would have demanded proof, but this was her sister. The one person in the world who had always loved her and had never lied to her. In addition to her absolute trust in her sister, Abigail couldn’t help noticing how details of her sister’s story made sense of things that had confused her since
