“I want to learn more about my mother,” she said finally.
“I can assist ye with that,” Duncan said. “As long as Gillespie doesna mind. I gave him all my mother’s books on magic.”
Gillespie grinned. “I’d be honored to share the collection with a daughter of Morrigan.”
“And I’d prefer to help too.” Duncan’s gaze rested on her. “But only when ye’re ready.”
“I’m ready now.” Evina stood to prove her strength.
Duncan frowned. “Lass, ye were dead only a few minutes ago. I think ye should rest.”
Evina did not sit down. Her nerves tingled and her mind swam with a thousand combined thoughts. “I have spent my entire life assuming I was little more than an orphan. I’ve considered who my parents might be, but never had I dreamed my mother was a goddess. For the first time in my life, I have a bit of knowledge about who I am.”
Duncan nodded, but kept his gaze fixed on her for a long while, as if trying to reassure himself she was as well as she claimed. “Then let us begin.”
Evina’s heart soared with expectation. “I’d like nothing more.”
Duncan held his hand out to her, and she realized he intended to guide her to wherever they were going. It was an endearing gesture. She placed her hand in his, and relished the warmth of his skin against hers. He grinned down at her in a way that made the steady rhythm of her pulse go a little faster, and led her from the chamber to where she would find out more about her mother.
Hermother.
A giddiness spiraled in her stomach. Evina could imagine no better way to spend the afternoon than learning everything she could about Morrigan.
Gillespie stopped in front of a large double door with scrolling, gilded leaves covering the wood, like the overgrown gate to a garden long ago left to the wild. He pushed open the doors and Duncan led her into a room nearly as large as the great hall, and filled floor to ceiling with books. The backs faced outward in various colors, some worn with age, some appearing new with brilliant gilt letters set against the leather spines. A true treasure if ever she’d seen one.
Gillespie directed them to a corner by the window where sunlight streamed in and washed over several shelves. “Over there is where anything on Morrigan might be found.”
Evina breathed out a long breath. “I’ve no’ ever seen so many books in my life.”
Duncan gave a wistful smile. It lightened his face in a kind way and she found herself unable to draw her gaze from him. “My da was much older than my mother. She made him happy in his life, especially after giving him the son he’d always wanted. He indulged her every want, and she had a great love of learning. Most especially magic and lore.”
“I see that.” Evina’s scanned the corner where Gillespie had indicated.
It would certainly take more than the afternoon to go through, and she couldn’t wait to uncover information about her mother, herself, and her life.
CHAPTER 7
SIX DAYS HAD PASSED and they had a mountain of books to show for their efforts. Duncan found his attention sliding to Evina for the countless time. Her fingers framed the bottom of a line to mark her place, her lashes lowered while she read.
“Ye’re watching me again.” Evina lifted her eyes to him. There wasn’t irritation in her tone. In fact, her lips curled up in a becoming manner as she spoke. As if she found it amusing.
“Would ye believe me if I told ye I wasna looking at ye?” he asked.
Her mouth lifted in a smile. “Nay.”
He shrugged. “I was looking at the book. Tis the bonniest book I’ve ever seen.”
She put her hand on the yellow, worn pages and admired the brown leather cover, stained and cracked with disuse and age. “This one?”
He rested his chin in his palm. “Aye. The bonniest book.”
“What do ye admire best about it?” she asked, her brow raised in question.
He grinned at her. “The way yer fingers rest over the pages when ye read.”
She laughed and the sparkle of her eyes remained locked on his. A pleasantness tingled up inside of him. This was how it had been between them the last few days, quiet flirtation and easy conversation.
He hadn’t forgotten she was a daughter of Morrigan. After all, it was what kept them occupied these hours together. Nor had he forgotten she could be the one to break the curse. How could he? It blared in his head every waking moment, no matter how hard he tried to shove it aside.
Their courtship moved too slow. He should have minded. He should have fretted over the remaining week and a half he had left. And yet for the first time in the last half of his life, he was enjoying himself. The languid rate of their building attraction, the way his heart flickered in rapid, excited beats when he saw her, talked to her, made her laugh as she’d just done. It was the purest form of joy in the world, and he found himself grateful for the occurrence. So much so, it was easy to put off concerns over things he did not want to waste time on. Like fretting over his impending death.
“I appreciate other things about the book,” he said.
“Oh?” She set it aside and cocked her head at him. Light from the setting sun gilded her smooth skin.
Evina’s maid had created new gowns for her to wear. The servant’s meticulous detail managed to capture the femininity of Evina’s beauty while paying homage to her strength and power. The result was whimsical, fae-like gowns of flowing silk with sculpted breastplates, lightweight and ornate. With her glossy black hair falling over her shoulders, she
