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The Highlander's Bride Page 3
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“Define ‘properly wed.’”
She had thought to have more time before addressing the issue, but since he asked, she said, “I need you to bed me.”
He threw his hands up in the air, paced in front of her and shook his head.
Sara was blunt. “I understand that you’re still mourning your beloved Alaina. That should make it easier for you. There is no love involved, simply duty. You could do it and be done with it.”
Cullen groaned, though it sounded more like a snarling growl.
“The vows must be sealed. I cannot take the chance of my father dissolving the marriage and forcing another husband on me.” Sara turned silent, wanting to add more but knowing it was best to give him time to digest the information, and for her to swallow the ridiculous hurt that he didn’t want to bed her.
She was offering herself to him, and he acted as if he found the thought repugnant. From what she had learned about men through observations and candid queries, they were receptive to any willing woman, so why should Cullen be any different?
He grabbed her arm once again and forced her up against the stone wall, his brute of a body near pinning her to it. She barely had room to take a breath, though there was no need to since her breath had caught in her throat, and struggled to break free.
“Explain everything it is you want of me in exchange for my son.”
Breath finally rushed from her chest, near choking her. This Scotsman was not a man to cross, and for that she was grateful. He would stand well against her father, guaranteeing her freedom.
“Bed me on the way to my home, meet my father, see that he believes us wed, and you shall be reunited with your son.”
“I want to be reunited with my son before I see that your father believes us solidly wed.”
Sara understood he needed guarantees, but she also needed to be sure he would honor their agreement. “I’ll have your word that you will not desert me as soon as you have your son?”
“I will honor our agreement once I have my son.”
“I need you to bed me before we reach—”
“I will bed you,” he snapped, and stepped away, turning his back on her.
Why did she let his reluctance disturb her? It was an arrangement that would serve both their needs—no more, no less. Whether he desired her didn’t matter. Perhaps she was disturbed because once, just once, she’d like a man to desire her. But then, no one truly knew her. She had made certain of that, shielding herself behind her sharp tongue so she could not be hurt.
“We leave immediately. Gather your things,” Cullen ordered.
Sara nodded and rushed past him, anxious for a few moments to herself and eager to leave the abbey. She had little to take with her. Two wool skirts, two linen blouses, boots, the shawl she wore, a dark blue wool cloak, and a linen shift. With the last chill of winter still upon them, she choose to don her wool cloak, and used her shawl to bundle her clothes in, tying a secure knot that would serve well as a handle she could slip over her arm. She also added the two carved bone combs that had belonged to her mother, gone since she was twelve and still sorely missed.
She glanced around the small room, a single bed and small chest the only furnishings, and of course a lone cross, so solemn against the white wall. She wouldn’t miss this place or the people. It was a lonely, empty life of drudgery and duty, not at all for her. She ached to taste all of life, the good and the bad, the smiles and the tears, the happiness and the sorrow, otherwise she wouldn’t feel as if she had lived.
Today, she would begin to live, would taste all she could and relish every morsel. With a brief nod of good-bye to her old life, she quietly shut the door behind her and without regret walked off to meet her destiny.
Cullen paid the Abbess handsomely to replenish his dwindling food supply and for an extra blanket for his wife.
Wife.
The word stabbed at his heart. Alaina was meant to be his one and only wife. He loved her beyond all reason, and all love died with her the day she died in his arms. He’d never love again. He had no love left in him, except of course for his son. Alexander was all that mattered to him, nothing else except finding him and getting them both to safety.
He planned to give his son a good life in America. His half brother Burke had told him of the plentiful land that was his in the Dakota Territory. He and Alexander would live well, get to know his brother, and learn more about his father, whom he’d never gotten to know.
That was why it was so important for him to find his son. Cullen didn’t want what happened to him to happen to Alexander. He had been relieved to learn that his father hadn’t deserted him, but rather had gone off to America after his wife had died, to build a future for him and his son. His father had left him when he was just a babe, and put him in the care of his sister-in-law. Unfortunately, his father, upon his return, learned that the sister-in-law had died and no one knew where Cullen had been sent. Burke told him that their father had never given up in his search for his son and, upon his deathbed made Burke promise to find Cullen. Burke gave his word, not just to please his father, but because he too wanted to find his half brother. They were, after all, family.
Cullen and Burke had but a short time together before Burke had to set sail, but Cullen looked forward to learning more about his brother and of his new home in America.
All he had to do was honor his agreement with Sara.
He shook his head, tying the rolled bundle after adding the extra blanket and dropping it to the ground. He hadn’t bed another woman since Alaina. He hadn’t wanted to think of bedding another woman. The hurt was still too new, too raw, to even consider touching another woman.
And yet…
His body ached for release. Part of him was grateful for a chance to bed a woman, no strings attached, and another part warned him that he would find no satisfaction in it. He would only feel emptier, more alone, missing Alaina even more.
However, he realized he had no choice, and if he were to bed a woman, at least he did so for a good reason. And at least he didn’t find Sara repugnant. He actually admired her courage and bravado, especially when it had come to protecting his son. For that reason alone he knew Alaina would forgive him for bedding her.
But could he forgive himself?
“I’m ready.”
Cullen turned, startled, not having heard Sara’s approach. He stared at her. She was so very tall for a woman and carried her height with pride. There wasn’t a slouch to her slim shoulders or her rigid stance. Her crazy hair, which refused taming, blazed bright red against the sharp afternoon sun.
And what was it about her eyes that he found so intriguing?
“Are you ready?”
She jolted him out of his musings and he nodded. “Have we far to go? Will we need horses?”
“You walked here?”
“I stabled my horse at a nearby farm.”
“A horse would get us there in a week’s time,” she said.
“Good. I wish to be reunited with my son as soon as possible.”
“You will see him. You have my word on it, just as your son has my word that I will see him kept safe.”
Cullen halted just as he was about to fling the rolled bedding over his shoulder. Sara certainly was a curiosity, giving her word to a newborn babe who could understand nothing. “Tell me about my son.”
Cullen began walking, Sara falling in step beside him “Alexander was astute for a newborn,” she said as they walked through the gates of the abbey, the chapel spire shrouded by a hovering cloud while the sun shined down on their departure.
“How so?”
“He squirmed and fussed when certain people held him. It was as if he knew who he could trust and who he couldn’t.”
“He didn’t fuss when you held him?”
Sara smiled. “Not at all. He settled in my arms as if he knew me, but then, I would always tell him he was safe with me. That he wasn’t to worry. The night I crept out of the abbey with him, he slept peac
efully tucked in my arms. He didn’t make a sound, but I had warned him that he needed to remain silent.”
Cullen grinned. “And he had heard and listened.”
“Of course,” Sara said, as if he were daft to believe anything else. “I told you, he’s very astute.”
The couple soon settled into an easy chatter and steady pace, leaving the abbey in the distance and the eyes that watched them disappear out of sight.
The Abbess finished the note posthaste and delivered it to the young lad who had been summoned from a nearby village. She gave him specific instructions.
“You are to take this to the Earl of Balford. It is to go from your hands into his, no one else but him. Do you understand?”
The young lad sniffled and nodded. “Aye, the Earl of Balford,” he confirmed, snatched the note from her hand and wiped his nose on the sleeve of his dirty jacket.
“It is imperative that you do precisely as I’ve instructed. Let nothing stop you from getting the note into the Earl of Balford’s hands.”
He nodded again.
“Good, then be off with you.” The Abbess dismissed him with a wave and collapsed to the hard wooden chair in her quarters. The Earl of Balford was the abbey’s largest contributor. Without his generous donations, the abbey would not survive. The earl had made arrangements for his daughter to birth her child at the abbey and for the child to…
The Abbess shut her eyes and shook her head. What was she to have done? Deny the earl his request? No, it hadn’t been a request. It had been an edict. The babe was to have been deceased by the time he reached Sara. No one was to know of the plan, but she was unable to stop tongues from running loose, and had been relieved to learn the babe had been buried and the whole ordeal was finally done.
She opened her eyes and sighed. It wasn’t done. It had just begun. There was no telling what the Earl of Balford would do once he discovered the babe lived and that his father had come to claim him. She only knew it was her duty to protect the abbey at all costs, and if that placed others in danger, so be it.
Cullen Longton and his new wife Sara were on their own—and God help them.
Chapter 5
It felt good to ride a horse again. Sara loved to ride, to walk the woods and hills, to fish the streams and hunt the forest, and she could cook whatever she caught, not to mention being quite skillful with a needle and thread. She was quite proficient in many things. Growing up with limited friends, she had spent much time on her own. With curiosity that harbored on the obsessive, she was soon learning all she could about anything she could.
But though she knew a whole lot about a whole lot, it hadn’t helped her find a husband. What man wanted a woman more skillful than himself at riding and hunting? Not to mention that her intelligence far surpassed most men in her clan and allowed her no patience for moronic viewpoints.
Her sister Teresa, three years older and, thank the Lord, her champion, insisted she would meet her match one day, someone who would recognize her qualities and respect her for her own worth. Sara didn’t believe it possible. It would take a man of pure courage or pure foolishness to fall in love with her.
Sara glanced at Cullen’s back from where she rode in a steady gait a few feet behind him. He was far from a foolish man and far more courageous than most. He had dared the wrath of a powerful earl to find his son. She admired his bravery and selflessness. He had proved that he would do anything to find his son—after all, he’d wed her.
She hadn’t liked the thought of forcing him to marry her, especially so soon after losing the woman he loved, but in a way, it proved advantageous for them both. Neither actually wanted to wed or remain wed. A purpose would be served, a deed done, and a marriage ended. It was simple, a perfect union with a perfect solution.
She had admired the way he dealt fairly with the farmer who stabled his horse, offering more than a fair price for the mare he’d purchased for her. While kind in his dealings, there was strength in his actions, confidence in his stance, purpose in his silence, and he loved tenaciously.
He was an impressive man and he intrigued her.
She winced. Not good, she warned herself. Not good to let this man intrigue her. They had a business arrangement and then he would be gone. Besides, she wasn’t exactly in his good graces.
How then would it go when he bed her?
The thought sent a shiver through her. She would have to remind herself it was just part of their bargain, an important part for her. It would be over and done before she knew it. He or she had no desire to make it any more than that.
The day wore on with few words exchanged between them. Sara let him have his silence. She surmised that the day hadn’t gone quite as he expected; after all, he now had a wife. Dusk finally had them stopping for the night and making camp before dark claimed the land. While Cullen saw to the horses, she built a fire.
They worked in companionable silence, each settling on separate blankets on opposite sides of the campfire. Cullen divided chunks of cheese and bread and they shared a pouch of wine.
By then Sara had enough silence. She’d lived in almost relative silence for two years, and yearned to talk with someone. Who better than her new husband?
“You gave that farmer a generous price for the mare,” she said, breaking off a smaller piece of cheese.
Cullen shrugged. “He needed it. I had it to give.”
“You have coins to spare?” She had noticed the freshness of his garments, and his fine stallion must have been costly.
“I have my fair share.”
Wealth, but no title. Is that what had kept him from claiming Alaina as his? No power, no importance. The Earl of Balford was known for his powerful connections. What better way to accrue more than having his daughter marry power?
Her curiosity, not to mention her blunt nature, had her asking, “Family wealth?”
He stopped chewing, stared at her a moment, then returned to chewing and answered with a simple nod.
So, he intended to keep his business to himself. She’d see about that. She had a way of finding out about people without them even realizing it. She turned to a topic she was certain Cullen would discuss—his son.
“Alexander is not far from where we go.”
Cullen’s head snapped up and his dark eyes near bored into her.
She got him with that, and intended to keep his interest while doing a little digging. “He’s safe, as I’ve repeatedly told you, and he’ll be in your arms as soon as our bargain is sealed.” She didn’t give him a chance to respond. “How did you track your son to Stilmere Abbey? I would have thought the earl would have closely guarded what he thought of as his daughter’s indiscretion.”
“Coins quickly open sealed mouths, especially when they’re hungry.”
Coins again, she thought. He seemed to have an unlimited supply.
Suddenly, it seemed he was eager to explain. “Though it took a while,” he said, “no one was forthcoming at first. Once I began throwing coins around, people began to talk, in whispers, of course. All feared the wrath of the Earl of Balford, and since I knew his evil ways all too well, I didn’t dare place anyone in such danger. One person connected me with another then another, which finally brought me to Stilmere. I was amazed at how intricately the earl had worked his maze so that none would know my son’s birthplace.”
“Not even Alaina,” Sara said in gentle reverence.
Cullen tossed the last small chunk of bread in the flames. “After her—”
He took a breath and sank briefly into what Sara could only imagine was a heart-wrenching memory.
When he spoke again, it was with renewed strength. “I wondered why Alaina had never told me where she had given birth to our son. Then I discovered she herself hadn’t known where she was taken.”
“I heard she pleaded with all who tended her to tell her where she was,” Sara confirmed.
His jaw muscles flinched and hardened and his dark eyes smoldered with anger. “No one helped her. Why d
idn’t they help her?”
“You can’t blame others,” Sara said defensively. “The nuns have no free will. They follow whatever orders are given them without question.”
“You didn’t.”
“I’m not part of the abbey and I have a mind of my own. I think and speak my own opinion. When I heard the whispers about the babe’s possible demise, I knew I’d have to investigate further.”
“Why didn’t you try and help Alaina?”
She had been expecting the accusing question. If she could help his son, why hadn’t she been able to help the mother?
She brushed the crumbs off her hands and glared at him. “Don’t blame me for something that you blame yourself for.”
He looked ready to spring to his feet, but instead grew rigid where he sat. “I wasn’t there, you were.”
“I did what I could,” Sara said caustically, while regret tore at her heart. She had tried so hard to find a way to help Alaina, but the earl had placed guards outside her quarters and throughout the abbey. Cullen would never truly know just how dangerous it had been for her to protect his son. However, she would never have been able to allow any harm to come to the babe. He was an innocent, and his escape was the best way for her to help Alaina. Perhaps one day, she had thought, the mother would come and reclaim her son. It was the only way possible for her to help the pleading Alaina.
But she didn’t feel compelled to share any of this with Cullen. She’d done what she thought was right. It was her way, and she didn’t need approval from anyone for her choices.
“And now you use this generous act of yours to claim your freedom,” he said. “Did you actually save my son’s life in hopes of saving your own?”
He released his venomous accusation like an arrow aimed at her heart, but she didn’t flinch. She let the blow bounce off her tough facade.