The Highlander's Forbidden Bride Page 3

  How could she even think that she could shed her identity and start life over as someone new? Perhaps she was foolish after all.

  Carissa chased away the disturbing thoughts and forced herself to concentrate on the predicament at hand. First and foremost, she needed to escape and if that proved successful, she could take the next step. But presently, that is where her concentration was needed.

  To try an escape while all the Sinclares where here would be foolish, too many eyes watching her. Once they left, she’d have only Ronan to contend with, and that would prove better odds for her, though…

  She raised her head, rushing her fingers through her long hair. They might be expecting that, and the others could lie in wait for her. Perhaps it would be wise of her to take her leave with everyone here. It could very well catch them off guard, and by the time they settled on a plan of action, she could be far gone.

  The problem was that they were to leave in the morning, which meant she only had a few hours left if she was to plan a successful escape.

  Carissa stood and went into the bedroom off the main room of the cottage and dressed quickly, donning extra layers for warmth and so she would have room to carry more important items in her bundle. She got busy, sunrise not far off. She had to be ready to take her leave. With the help of a friend, she would slip away unnoticed.

  Only two inches of snow covered the ground, though the gray sky and chilled air certainly promised more. And that possibility drove the discussion among the Sinclares.

  “If we leave now, we may get caught in the storm and be without shelter,” Artair advised.

  “And if we stay, we may get stuck here longer than we’d like,” Alyce reminded. “It will only take us four days to get home.”

  “More if we’re caught in a storm,” Artair said.

  “My grandmother doesn’t believe the heaviest snowfall will arrive for at least two or three days,” Zia informed them. “And she’s usually accurate.”

  “With only meeting Carissa, I can’t be certain, but she seems more a warrior than a woman,” Alyce said. “And as such I believe she determines her options, as we do, her wisest choice being to remain here in the village for the winter and make her escape just before spring.”

  “I agree,” Artair said. “Where would she go, what shelter and food would she have? Here she is guaranteed both, plus she would be safe.”

  “You’d be fools to believe that,” Ronan said, looking from one to the others. “She is cunning and far more skilled than any of you realize. You told me how you attacked the barbarian stronghold and captured her father, Mordrac. Tell me, how did she manage to avoid escape?”

  “If I remember correctly,” Lachlan said, “she wasn’t there.”

  Ronan shook his head. “No. She was there; her father would have made sure of that. She somehow managed to avoid capture.”

  Lachlan looked to Cavan. “Do you recall seeing her when we took command of the barbarian stronghold?”

  Cavan narrowed his eyes, as if trying to force the memory, then shook his head, annoyed. “No.”

  “Make no mistake,” Ronan warned. “She successfully avoided you and made her escape. And she will do so again if we do not keep a sharp eye on her.” All their eyes followed his pointing finger to a cottage in the distance. “Do you know if she is still there?”

  They all stared, but not one made a comment.

  Cavan stepped forward, his determined strides and combined height and width causing the ground beneath him to tremble.

  Ronan moved quickly to block his path, and the two brothers stood face-to-face, the younger almost matching his oldest brother’s height, surprising them both. For a moment nothing was said, but pain and uncertainty were evident in their eyes.

  “I have watched throughout the night,” Ronan said. “She is still there.”

  Cavan stepped forward as Bethane approached. “You assured me—”

  “And has she not remained here?” Bethane asked, and walked over to the two men.

  “Carissa cannot be trusted,” Ronan reiterated.

  “Are you sure of that?” Bethane asked

  “I witnessed it firsthand,” Cavan confirmed, “as I’m sure Ronan did.”

  Ronan nodded. “I know well her cruelty.”

  “I am sorry that you both believe—”

  “Believe?” Cavan snapped sharply, and pounded his chest. “She laughed while I was whipped unmercifully, then she poured a liquid on my open wounds that caused me to pass out from the pain.”

  Ronan raised his right hand, his middle and forefinger bent and crooked. “Thanks to her, these never healed correctly, and only because a slave cared enough to risk Carissa’s wrath was I tended to at all.”

  “She is as evil as her father,” Cavan spat.

  Bethane nodded. “Her father was truly evil.”

  “And she will pay as he did,” Cavan said.

  “So you remind everyone again and again.”

  Cavan and Ronan swerved around to glare at Carissa.

  “Bethane, may I speak with you?” she asked, and turned and walked away, dismissing the others as unimportant.

  Bethane walked between the brothers, but Ronan took hold of her arm before she could go any farther. “You need not follow her command.”

  “Carissa did not command,” Bethane said. “She asked to speak with me.” She placed her hand over Ronan’s. “If you would put your anger aside for a moment, perhaps you would see more clearly.”

  Ronan expelled a breath, releasing tightness in his chest he hadn’t realized was there. And for a moment he felt at peace, until his glance landed on Carissa. She was smiling.

  “I see only too clearly,” Ronan said, and jerked his hand away.

  Bethane made hasty steps to Carissa and walked far enough away with the younger woman so that their conversation could not be overheard.

  “I must leave,” Carissa whispered, while retaining a smile.

  “Nonsense,” Bethane said. “You are safe here and can remain as long as you like.”

  “As will the Sinclares.”

  “Ronan is the only one who will remain. The others will take their leave shortly.”

  A perfect time for her to escape.

  Bethane took her hand. “Stay here. I believe if you and Ronan could talk—”

  Carissa laughed and shook her head. “His hatred for me is too great. I must leave.”

  Bethane smiled softly. “Then let me help you.” She continued before Carissa could protest. “A heavy snowfall will arrive soon, and you will need shelter. There is a cottage deep in the woods where I sometimes tend those who prefer not to come to the village. It is well stocked with provisions, and no one knows where it is. You should be safe there for now.”

  “You have created a safe haven here, and I don’t wish to jeopardize that.”

  “Trust me when I tell you that you won’t,” Bethane insisted. “Go to the cottage, and all will be well.”

  If it were possible for her to cry, Carissa would have, but to protect herself she had not shed a tear since she was very young. She had rarely known kindness, so when it was shown her, it touched her heart though none believed she had one.

  “The only problem I foresee is how you can escape without detection,” Bethane said.

  Carissa smiled. “I only need a moment to disappear.”

  Chapter 5

  Ronan kept his eye on Carissa, who ambled around the village as he helped his brothers ready for departure. Since Zia had attended his wounds once, he knew her, but not well, though what he did know had him concluding that she was a good match for Artair. However, he found Alyce a strange choice for Lachlan. It certainly wasn’t her features that he found odd, for she was a beauty. It was that Lachlan was a charmer where Alyce seemed a warrior woman and a capable one at that. Earlier, when they had discussed options, she had offered sound advice and made an accurate assumption on Carissa’s nature.

  One thing the two women did have in common was that y
ou could see in their eyes how much they loved their husbands, and his heart ached even more for the woman he had loved and Carissa had murdered.

  He glared at Carissa kicking at a puppy that playfully nipped at the hem of her skirt. She was a mean woman, even to animals.

  “You do know that it will be difficult to restrain mother from coming here,” Cavan said. “Only the weather will be able to deter her, and even then I don’t believe it will stop her.”

  While Ronan addressed his brother, he kept sight of Carissa from the corner of his eye as she pulled her hood up over her head, the sharp wind having grown colder. “I have missed her. Tell her to stay put, I will be home soon.”

  “She never doubted you would return home.”

  “She always had more confidence in me than I did,” Ronan said. “How has she fared since Father…” He couldn’t say aloud that his father was dead. It sounded much too final, and the pain of his loss continued to be a heavy burden.

  “It’s been a struggle for her,” Cavan said, “though lately she’s been much better. I suppose having three daughters-in-law and four grandchildren has helped.”

  Ronan could only nod, for he still couldn’t believe how much his family had changed and gained since his absence, whereas while he might have changed, he had lost far more than he had gained.

  “I still feel our departure places a sole burden on you that should be shared by us all,” Cavan said. “You have suffered enough and have been away from home far too long. You should be returning home with us.”

  “I’m not ready to come home yet, and you of all people should understand why.”

  “I do understand.” Cavan nodded. “My wife Honora would as well, for she was the one who had to deal with me when I returned home, though truth be told, she was the one who helped me heal.”

  “I honestly don’t know…” Ronan paused and turned to look at Carissa still fighting off the puppy. “I don’t know if I can ever heal.”

  Cavan rested a firm hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Time is the only potion that will heal your wounds.”

  Ronan wanted to believe that, but it was difficult. His pain and hatred were too great right now to think he would ever heal, feel whole again, let alone love again.

  “I will see you soon,” Cavan said confidently.

  Ronan hoped that would be so and was soon receiving hugs from his brothers that brought back happier memories, and well-wishes from his sisters-in-law.

  “When the worst of winter passes, we will return for you and Carissa,” Cavan said after mounting his horse. “I am anxious for you to meet my twin sons. One is named for you.”

  Ronan was struck speechless and could do nothing but stare after his family as they rode slowly away. He could not believe the honor his brother had bestowed on him, and it struck him like a fist to his gut just how much Cavan and he had been through.

  The reminder had him spinning around, for he had foolishly taken his eye off Carissa and he worried…

  While she ignored the puppy, he delightfully pranced around her as she made her way to her cottage. The pup didn’t even seem perturbed when she shut the door in his face. He simply plopped down by the door as if he intended to wait for her, but a young lass came along and scooped him up, and he went without protest.

  Ronan turned to see his family gone out of sight, and in a way he felt relieved. He didn’t need the distraction of their presence. He needed to focus all his attention on Carissa. He was certain she would attempt an escape, and once she stepped away from the sanctuary of the village, he intended to capture her and return her home. Where he would, only too gladly, see that she paid for her crimes. A light snow began to fall, and he decided to make Carissa aware that he was now her shadow.

  He walked over to her cottage, tapped on the door, though he didn’t expect her to open it and said, “Make no mistake. Where you go, I go.” He sat on the narrow bench beneath the window, the shutters tightly closed and waited.

  Ronan winced as he stretched awake, his neck a bit painful from the odd angle of his head when he had fallen asleep. With barely any sleep last night, he should have known he would doze off, but he supposed he had dozed feeling safer that he sat right outside her door.

  Then he realized what had woken him, and shaking his cloak, now covered with more than a dusting of snow, he stood and scooped up the puppy, who had returned to scratch at the cottage door.

  “Why bother when she’s not interested,” he asked the little pup, and got a lick on the nose.

  “Damn,” he said, suddenly realizing his foolish mistake, and plopped the pup on the ground. Then, without knocking, he opened the door and rushed in.

  The pup scurried past him and into the outstretched arms of the woman who bent down to scoop him up.

  “Where is she?” he asked the woman who was basically around the same size as Carissa.

  “I do not know,” she said pleasantly.

  Ronan turned and stormed out of the cottage. There was only one person who would know the truth. He headed with angry strides to Bethane’s cottage.

  The door opened before he touched the handle.

  “I was just coming to see if you would care to join me for the noon meal,” Bethane said with her usual glowing smile.

  “Where is she?” he demanded, wanting answers not pleasantries.

  “Come in out of the cold. You need some warmth and nourishment.” She stepped aside for him to enter.

  Her words held wisdom, since he realized he had slept far longer than he had thought, and his empty stomach was reacting to the delicious scents drifting from her cottage. Reluctantly, he entered.

  “Eat, and we will talk,” Bethane offered as she slipped his cloak off his shoulders and draped it over the back of the rocking chair near the hearth.

  Ronan didn’t argue. One thing he had learned during his capture was that when food was offered, you should eat, for you never knew when next you would.

  Ronan broke off a chunk of dark bread while Bethane ladled a good portion of meat-and-barley stew into a bowl, then placed it in front of him. She filled a bowl for herself from the cauldron in the hearth and joined him at the table.

  “You tricked me,” he said, pouring himself a tankard of hot cider from the pitcher on the table.

  “I did nothing.”

  Ronan ate another spoonful before responding. “You helped her.”

  “Everyone helps each other here. I thought you realized that.”

  “If they knew her as I do, they would shun her,” he said angrily.

  “Most came here because they have been shunned.”

  “You defend her?” Ronan asked, anger still edging his voice.

  “I defend all who seek help and healing.”

  “Healing?” he asked incredulously. “Carissa inflicts pain and feels none herself. She is cold and heartless and deserves not an ounce of sympathy. And if she thinks she can escape me, she’s wrong. I will find her.”

  “I have no doubt you will.”

  Ronan shook his head. “Then why bother to help her?”

  “I cannot, nor would I, stop people from traveling their own paths. I did not stop you when last you were here.”

  “I had to leave,” he insisted.

  “You were not yet healed.”

  “I had no choice.”

  “I believe Carissa felt the same,” Bethane said.

  “You cannot compare us,” he argued. “I left to save a life. She left to save her own. And the longer I debate this with you, the greater distance she puts from me.”

  “Then you will be leaving?”

  “After I gather the provisions I will need,” he said.

  “Take whatever you need, but be aware that a severe winter storm approaches, and you will need shelter.”

  “I would hope to find Carissa before then, but if not…there is that cottage the mercenary brought me to when first you tended me.”

  Bethane nodded with a smile. “And it remains stocked with provisio
ns, but what if Carissa isn’t traveling in that direction.”

  “She would not return from where she came, there is no help for her there; therefore, she would seek a new route to take, and that path would more than likely cross with that cottage.”

  “You are welcome to make use of it.”

  Ronan shook his head. “Why do you help both of us?”

  She laughed softly. “At my age you see the wisdom of it.”

  “Then either you see deeper than most, or your eyesight isn’t what it once was.”

  Bethane laughed and patted his hand. “I’m sure you will let me know which it is.”

  “You do realize that once I capture Carissa, I won’t be bringing her back here.”

  “I assumed as much,” she said with a gentle nod. “You will take her straight to your home?”

  “Yes, and it is there she will meet her fate.”

  “I daresay you will meet yours as well.”

  “In a way, I suppose I will, for my journey will finally be done.”

  “No, my son,” Bethane said. “It will just be starting.”

  Chapter 6

  Carissa made it to the cottage by nightfall. She was grateful for the continued snowfall, her tracks concealed as soon as she made them. She had gone out of her way to misdirect anyone following her, purposely breaking tips of tree branches and leaving snags of her wool cloak stuck to bushes. If she were lucky, no one would find her, and she could at least wait out the impending storm in peace and solitude.

  The cottage was as Bethane had promised, stocked with a multitude of provisions, including firewood stacked high right outside the front door. She found the root cellar that Bethane had advised would see her through the winter if necessary, and the older woman had been right. There were several covered crocks and barrels containing food staples, including dried apples and plums and oats and barley, not to mention dried meats. Cider and ale were also in abundance, as were candles.