marriage.
‘Ah, and so comes your aunt to claim you,’ he said, standing at her aunt’s approach to greet her. ‘Is it time then?’ he asked.
‘Aye, my lord,’ Aunt Gillie did her best curtsy before them. ‘You will see her on the morrow.’
‘Sleep well, Arabella. I will see you at the church.’
He leaned over and kissed her, on her mouth, much to the delight of those watching. They clamoured for more so he took her in his arms and kissed her again. Arabella tried to relax in his arms, knowing most of this was simply to demonstrate his willingness to accept her as his bride. He eased his embrace but held her close for a moment more before letting her go with her aunt.
‘That bodes well,’ Aunt Gillie whispered as they left the hall. ‘I worried that this time apart would sour things between you.’
It took little time to ready herself for bed, but nothing she did seemed to bring on the sleep she needed that night. The morrow promised to be a long, emotional day and Arabella wished to greet it in good humour and without the dark smudges of sleeplessness that appeared under her eyes when she did not rest well.
* * *
As the sun’s first light tried to chase away the fog, she yet stood by the window, staring across the yard and into the distance. Unable to sleep, she’d climbed from the bed some time ago and pulled on an old tunic and gown against the morning chill. This time of day was her favourite, just before dawn while quiet still ruled the land and the people. Stiff-limbed now from standing too long in one position, Arabella was about to turn away when one single ray of sunlight broke through the clouds and illuminated a spot on the hillside she could see.
The clearing.
The place Brodie had taken her to show her the extent of the lands that she would claim as wife to the next Mackintosh chieftain. She began to shudder before she knew it—her mind recognising the person who stood there now, outlined by the sun’s light. Her breath froze and she squinted to be certain.
It could only be him. Standing there, so close to justice and yet no one knew. If she called a warning, he would flee before... Another shiver, this one bone-deep, shook her.
Even knowing he’d killed Malcolm, there was a part of her that did not want to see him dead. At least not until she learned his motives for taking her brother’s life. At least until she knew the part she’d played by sending her brother to that gathering of men. She wanted to hear his explanation.
She moved around the chamber in silence, finished dressing and then crossed the outer chamber, passing the sleeping figures of her aunt and cousin. She was careful going down the stairs and through the keep and made her way to the stables. With a quiet word to a young boy there, she readied her horse as she usually did and climbed up on his back. Arabella was at the gate when it opened for the day and rode through it without a word, her cloak and hood pulled tightly around her.
Urging her horse faster, she leaned down low and pressed her knees to his sides. They covered the ground quickly as the horse’s strides lengthened and his speed increased. With barely a tug on the reins, she guided him away from the keep and up the road that would curve around the mountainside to where he was.
She would finally get the answers that would allow her own guilt to ease. She would get the opportunity to confront the man who had killed her brother. She would...
Empty.
As she rode through the final line of trees into the clearing, she found no one there. Searching the area, she saw and heard nothing in the stillness of the early morning to indicate that anyone had been there.
Letting out the breath she’d been holding, she walked the horse around the level place, allowing him to cool down from their strenuous ride here. Keeping her gaze on the path, Arabella waited and listened.
The ride back was slower as she faced the truth that it was not Brodie’s guilt but her own
‘Ah, and so comes your aunt to claim you,’ he said, standing at her aunt’s approach to greet her. ‘Is it time then?’ he asked.
‘Aye, my lord,’ Aunt Gillie did her best curtsy before them. ‘You will see her on the morrow.’
‘Sleep well, Arabella. I will see you at the church.’
He leaned over and kissed her, on her mouth, much to the delight of those watching. They clamoured for more so he took her in his arms and kissed her again. Arabella tried to relax in his arms, knowing most of this was simply to demonstrate his willingness to accept her as his bride. He eased his embrace but held her close for a moment more before letting her go with her aunt.
‘That bodes well,’ Aunt Gillie whispered as they left the hall. ‘I worried that this time apart would sour things between you.’
It took little time to ready herself for bed, but nothing she did seemed to bring on the sleep she needed that night. The morrow promised to be a long, emotional day and Arabella wished to greet it in good humour and without the dark smudges of sleeplessness that appeared under her eyes when she did not rest well.
* * *
As the sun’s first light tried to chase away the fog, she yet stood by the window, staring across the yard and into the distance. Unable to sleep, she’d climbed from the bed some time ago and pulled on an old tunic and gown against the morning chill. This time of day was her favourite, just before dawn while quiet still ruled the land and the people. Stiff-limbed now from standing too long in one position, Arabella was about to turn away when one single ray of sunlight broke through the clouds and illuminated a spot on the hillside she could see.
The clearing.
The place Brodie had taken her to show her the extent of the lands that she would claim as wife to the next Mackintosh chieftain. She began to shudder before she knew it—her mind recognising the person who stood there now, outlined by the sun’s light. Her breath froze and she squinted to be certain.
It could only be him. Standing there, so close to justice and yet no one knew. If she called a warning, he would flee before... Another shiver, this one bone-deep, shook her.
Even knowing he’d killed Malcolm, there was a part of her that did not want to see him dead. At least not until she learned his motives for taking her brother’s life. At least until she knew the part she’d played by sending her brother to that gathering of men. She wanted to hear his explanation.
She moved around the chamber in silence, finished dressing and then crossed the outer chamber, passing the sleeping figures of her aunt and cousin. She was careful going down the stairs and through the keep and made her way to the stables. With a quiet word to a young boy there, she readied her horse as she usually did and climbed up on his back. Arabella was at the gate when it opened for the day and rode through it without a word, her cloak and hood pulled tightly around her.
Urging her horse faster, she leaned down low and pressed her knees to his sides. They covered the ground quickly as the horse’s strides lengthened and his speed increased. With barely a tug on the reins, she guided him away from the keep and up the road that would curve around the mountainside to where he was.
She would finally get the answers that would allow her own guilt to ease. She would get the opportunity to confront the man who had killed her brother. She would...
Empty.
As she rode through the final line of trees into the clearing, she found no one there. Searching the area, she saw and heard nothing in the stillness of the early morning to indicate that anyone had been there.
Letting out the breath she’d been holding, she walked the horse around the level place, allowing him to cool down from their strenuous ride here. Keeping her gaze on the path, Arabella waited and listened.
The ride back was slower as she faced the truth that it was not Brodie’s guilt but her own
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