Page 13 of Surrendering to her Highland Captor
“I do wish ye would wipe that look off yer face,” Rowena told Taryn. “Ye look as if I am getting ready to march ye out to the gallows.”
“Ye might as well be,” Taryn muttered.
Laura looked up in horror. Isobel gently pushed Laura to get back to her work, while Rowena glowered at Taryn.
“Dinnae be so overcome with hysterics, Taryn. Ye are to be wed to an English Lord. Ye will be titled and wealthy. Ye will have lands and influence. With this new wardrobe, ye will be the most bonny woman England has ever seen. I should think ye would be more grateful.”
“Ye have heard the rumors,” Taryn argued, hoping that she could persuade her mother to see reason. “He killed his first wifeand ran off the last lass he was engaged to. People say that she is dead now too.”
“Aye, and they think that the Laird is a spineless leader, allowing his brother to run the clan. But we all ken how foolish those rumors are.”
Are they?
“Ye must nae listen to what ye hear,” Rowena continued, completely unaware of Taryn’s thoughts. “Honestly, Taryn, ye are acting nae better than a village peasant.”
Laura stiffened at the insult but moved on quickly. Taryn could feel the concern her friend had with every tug of fabric and brush of her hand as they worked. Not for the first time, Taryn wondered what she had done that was so awful to have made her own mother care less for her than a friend.
Seeing she would get nowhere in trying to convince her mother to change their plans, Taryn kept her mouth shut for the remainder of the appointment. For hours, Taryn had fabric draped across her shoulders and neck as Rowena and Isobel discussed which colors suited her face the best. They decided on the different styles and cuts that Taryn would take with her to her new life.
Luckily, Isobel managed to convince Rowena that Taryn’s riding suit was still very much in fashion and with a few tweaks, would be ready for her life as a Baroness. At the very least, it left Taryn with the freedom to go for a ride should she choose to do so in her last few days of limited freedom. She didn’t know if that was something a Baroness was allowed to do.
“Are ye pleased, daughter?” Rowena asked at long last, looking over all of their final selections with a satisfied smile.
When Taryn didn’t answer right away. Rowena turned and put her hands on her hips.
“Leave us,” she ordered to the room of maids. “Everyone, go.”
Bracing herself, Taryn sent one last pleading look to Laura, hoping that her eyes conveyed the goodbye she was trying to communicate. Laura’s eyes turned red, but Isobel pulled her daughter out, giving Taryn a small, sad smile of her own.
“Come,” Rowena said to Taryn once they were alone. “Sit with me for a moment.”
Once settled, Rowena took Taryn’s hands in hers and sighed.
“I dinnae ken what to say that will convince ye to stop all yer pouting.”
“Say that ye understand. Say that ye will nae make me go. Say that ye want me to be happy,” Taryn pleaded.
“Happiness has nothing to do with duty, Taryn. I had hoped that ye would have learned this by now. And this marriage is yer duty. It is time ye served yer clan, yer people, yer Laird, and yer father. I will nae have this conversation again. The next time I see ye, the next time anyone speaks of yer marriage, I expect for ye to show yer gratitude.”
Rowena left Taryn to her own thoughts then.
From that moment on, the rest of the week saw Taryn plunged into a deep, dark hole. Food no longer interested her, much to her mother’s approval. She didn’t make another attempt to escape through the stables.
When Isobel arrived with all her new clothes, Taryn wasn’t wholly surprised to see that Laura wasn’t with her. Even then, her eyes remained dry and lifeless. She was going to die soon enough with the Baron for a husband, she saw no point in trying to enjoy life anymore. As far as Taryn was concerned, her life was over.
This darkness, this listlessness, swallowed her whole, carrying her through the week until the night before she was set to leave for the English border. For the first time in days, Taryn couldn’t fall asleep. It had been a struggle to keep her eyes awake through every meal in the Great Hall and the hours shespent embroidering another cushion. Yet now that it was time for sleep, it seemed that was the farthest thing from her.
Taryn tossed and turned, the sheets getting tangled around her legs. Irritated, she huffed and kicked all of her blankets to the floor. She sprawled out over the mattress, letting her arms and legs dangle over the edge. That lasted only a moment before she was irate at the strands of hair that now fell into her eyes. Huffing, she rose from the bed and went to the windows.
Shoving the curtains aside, Taryn flung open the window panes, desperate for the fresh air to blow away her sense of restlessness. She took in the crisp autumn air, letting it burn her lungs just a touch. Satisfied for the moment, she moved to her vanity and poured water into the bowl that rested there. Taryn splashed it on her face, hoping that would further aid in cooling her flushed cheeks. As she was drying off, a faint knock sounded.
Looking up, Taryn searched the door first, but finding nothing, she waited for the next knock. It came quickly. Too quickly to be a bird flying into the other closed windows. Taryn rushed to the other side of her room, to the window already open, and peered down.
“Shhh,” Laura called up from the bush that sat just below Taryn’s window, two stories down.
“What are ye doing?” Taryn called back, her words a shouted whisper.
“I have come to save ye. Hurry. We dinnae have much time. Get dressed in yer warmest clothes!”
