The Lavender Heir.     Chapter Eleven

Heather Confesses

Chapter Eleven

Sasha found Heather in the kitchen.

The smell of baking bread usually brought comfort, but this morning it only reminded her how much the cottage felt like a world apart from the secrets pressing in around it. Heather was at the table, hands deep in dough, when Sasha entered with the sprigs of lavender clenched in her fist.

Heather looked up. Her bright eyes flicked to Sasha’s pale face, then to the trembling flowers. “You didn’t sleep,” she said softly, as though she already knew.

“No,” Sasha said. Her voice was unsteady. “I was… out there.” She gestured toward the window, the lavender fields a hazy blur in the morning mist. “Aislinn came to me again. She pointed to the castle. Then she rushed at me, and when I woke up—” Sasha lifted the sprigs in her hand. “This was on my nightdress.”

Heather’s hands froze in the dough, her face unreadable. She wiped her palms slowly on her apron, then stepped toward Sasha with a gravity that made Sasha’s chest tighten.

“Please,” Sasha whispered. “You know something, Heather. About Aislinn. About my father. Tell me the truth.”

Before Heather could answer, a knock came at the door.

Sasha turned to see Patrick standing on the porch. The morning light haloed his copper hair, and he looked more unsettled than she’d ever seen him.

Heather opened the door, her eyes narrowing. “You’re back early.”

Patrick stepped in, nodding briefly to Sasha before focusing on Heather. “I didn’t like leaving her last night,” he said quietly. “And I think we need to talk—because whatever’s going on here, it’s getting worse.”

Heather glanced between them, her expression softening just a fraction. “Then sit down, both of you,” she said firmly. “Because it’s time you knew everything I can tell you.”

Sasha and Patrick sat opposite Heather at the kitchen table, the lavender still trembling in Sasha’s grasp. Heather folded her hands, staring at them for a moment before speaking.

“I knew Aislinn’s mother,” she said at last. “We went to school together, before any of this. She was kind, gentle, and too good for what this place became. Cian noticed her the way he notices everything he wants. Their affair was short, but everyone knew… even though no one would dare say it aloud.”

Sasha’s throat tightened. “She was close to my father?”

Heather nodded grimly. “Closer than she should have been. And when Aislinn disappeared, Cian made it very clear the subject was forbidden. No one asked questions, because those who did…” Heather paused. “…sometimes they vanished too.”

Patrick’s jaw clenched, but he stayed silent, letting Heather continue.

“I didn’t think I’d be the last to see her,” Heather whispered. “That night, years ago… I found Aislinn on the roadside. She was terrified. She begged me not to take her home. She said Cian would be furious. Eamon—my husband—was with me, and we… we drove her to the castle instead.”

Sasha’s breath hitched. “You took her to him?”

Tears welled in Heather’s eyes. “She insisted, Sasha. She said she had to go, and I thought… I thought I was helping her. But that was the last time I ever saw her alive. I’ve lived with that guilt every day since.”

The room was silent except for the faint tick of the stove.

Patrick leaned forward, his voice low and steady. “Then we need to go to the source of this. If Cian is tied to Aislinn’s disappearance, we can’t wait any longer.”

Heather shook her head. “No, not yet. There’s someone you need to see first. Aislinn’s mother. She left Blackwater years ago, but I know where she is. If anyone can tell you the truth, it’s her.”

Sasha stared at Heather, her heart racing. “She’ll see me?”

“She’ll see you,” Heather said firmly. “You deserve answers, Sasha. But we’ll go together. And when we’re ready…” Her gaze shifted toward the misted horizon, where the castle’s towers cut the morning sky. “…then we’ll face Cian.”

Sasha looked down at the lavender still in her hand, feeling the weight of the ghostly message Aislinn had delivered in the night.

There was no turning back now.