Cathy Maxwell - [Chattan Curse 03] by The Devils Heart

understood that spells and curses did not exist? “You claim a strong wind forced your coach off the road?”
    A small frown line appeared between her brows as she said, “I told you everything. I don’t remember much.”
    “Then tell me what you do remember. Start at the beginning. You were coming here because of the curse my ancestress Fenella placed upon your family.”
    She raised guileless blue eyes to meet his. A man could lose himself in her gaze when she appeared so defenseless. This was also not the proud woman who had caught his attention in London all those years ago.
    “The curse states when a Chattan falls in love, he will die,” she said, her voice low. “Both Lyon and Harry are in love and both are deathly ill. The curse killed my father and my grandfather. Over the generations, many have come to Scotland to search for a way to end the curse.”
    “They have come knocking on our door more than once.”
    “And you wouldn’t help them.”
    “We couldn’t, my lady,” he said. “A curse is words. Nothing more.”
    Her shoulders stiffened. She did not agree. She continued her story. “We are desperate to save Lyon. In spite of what has been done in the past, Harry hoped to try a new tact and was the first to come to Scotland. We didn’t know of Fenella until by chance he found Fenella’s book. It was in Glenfinnan, which was once the seat of the Chattans.”
    “Why was it there?”
    “I don’t know the book’s history and I don’t believe his wife does, either. She said she discovered the book in her attic. It just appeared—”
    Her voice broke off. She frowned as if a new thought had occurred to her.
    “What is it?” he prodded.
    “My sister-in-law discovered the book at the same time she found a small white cat. It’s a strange cat. Her ears are folded over and she has huge eyes that seem to communicate her thoughts. I called her Owl because she reminded me of one.”
    Heath didn’t like cats, and he didn’t know why Lady Margaret was talking about one, until she said, “No one could see the cat, except for Harry, his wife, and myself. Rowan, Harry’s Indian servant, the one upstairs, told me he believes Owl is a reincarnation of either Fenella or her daughter Rose, the one who took her own life and caused the curse. Do you understand what a reincarnation is?”
    “I’ve heard of it,” Heath admitted, hesitant. Her story had taken a decidedly odd turn.
    She appeared not to notice his skepticism. “When Rowan told me he thought Owl was part of the curse, I left the cat on the side of the road. I hated doing it but my servants had all convinced me I was the only one who saw her.”
    “Perhaps they were playing a joke? And they could see the cat?”
    Lady Margaret frowned at him. “Why would they do that?”
    “I’m not certain.”
    She leaned forward, placing her hand on his arm. “You believe I sound strange, as if I am imagining things.”
    He couldn’t deny her charge.
    “I fear I am as well,” she said, sitting back in her chair. “And yet you asked me to start from the beginning.”
    “I did.”
    “Then understand, I am telling what I know. Or what I think I know. And I warn you, my story is going to sound more unrealistic.”
    “I shall brace myself.”
    A flicker of annoyance went through her eyes. His dry understatement was not lost on her and she did not appreciate his humor. She lifted her chin and continued, “Shortly after we left the cat, the storm came up. We were less than an hour from Loch Awe, certainly on the last miles of the journey.”
    “There has not been a large storm over the past week, my lady. Rain and mist is always present, but the weather has not been violent.”
    “I can only tell you what I experienced, Laird Macnachtan. The storm arrived suddenly, surprising us. It was powerful enough to sweep us off the road as if we were crumbs on a table. I could hear the men swearing at the horses. And then the horses started screaming. It was