Page 21 of Highlander’s Bride

The river gurgled to their left as they proceeded to the white outline of the tower house. Raghnall thought distantly that the estate’s name—house on a river—wasn’t sophisticated by any means, but it suited the place well.

On the second floor, one of the narrow windows was glowing. Only the servants lived here now, maybe even just one. Without the lord, there was nothing much to manage, not a lot to cook, and no cleaning to be done, so there was probably just the housekeeper and a maid. Raghnall hadn’t had a chance to ask Angus.

When the horse approached the tower, Raghnall jumped off. Supporting his wife as she slid down, he noticed yet again how narrow her waist was and how warm she felt through her elegant dress, which, even though beautiful, didn’t compare to her natural beauty.

He tied the reins to the hitching post and banged on the door of the tower house and looked up, waiting to see some movement up in the window. Moments passed, but nothing happened. Was there anyone around? The kitchen building was only six feet away, but judging by the lack of smoke coming out of the chimney, no one was there.

With her mysterious purse tucked under one armpit, Lady Bryanna looked around, rubbing herself from the cold. What he wouldn’t give to look inside that purse. All answers to her secrets must be hiding there. He itched to come to her and wrap his cloak around her to keep her warm, but he stopped himself. She shouldn’t assume he cared about her, so he didn’t move a finger, even though he wanted to.

No one answered the door, so he repeated his banging, the heavy, iron hardware rattling. The door jumped off the frame from his effort.

“’Tis nae locked,” he murmured, opening the door into the darkness.

He remembered the house well. Even without any light, he knew the scent of rot and mold that breathed onto him came from the storage space—just like in any keep.

He carefully walked through the darkness towards a weak light that came from up the wooden stairs. “Goddamn, is there nae housekeeper? Come on, lass, give me yer hand. Follow me.”

He stretched his hand to her, and her small, warm, silky hand lay in his like it had always belonged there.

As he moved towards the stairs, he cursed himself. What was the point of liking her touch if he’d never be with her? She was a bad liar at worst and a madwoman at best.

When they reached the stairs, faint voices came from up above, and Raghnall took out his dagger just in case. As they climbed, the voices became louder and the light stronger. They reached a small landing with one door, and Raghnall saw the fireplace in the small lord’s hall was still lit. The next landing would lead to a guest bedchamber.

As Raghnall and Bryanna kept climbing, he realized the voices were actually moans and grunts of two people. The sounds were pained—or very much pleasured.

He let go of Bryanna’s hand to be able to react faster. “Stay behind me, lass.”

“I don’t need you to protect me.”

“Ye dinna ken what ye’re talking about. Shush.”

She gave out a slight gasp, but he ignored her and kept climbing. They passed the floor above the main hall where doors led to a clearly unoccupied chamber and climbed another flight of stairs. Finally, he stood before the door to the lord’s bedchamber. It was half open, and the light and the stench of a tallow candle came from within.

“Stay back,” Raghnall said and turned, expecting to see a worried look in her green eyes. Instead, they were blazing with ferocity and excitement.

There she was, that woman who’d come to him by the church, so full of joy she might as well have radiated light around her.

What was it that stopped her from casting that inner light? He had demons that haunted him…did she, too?

But then the sounds behind the door stopped, and her eyes widened in alarm. Before Raghnall could react, something heavy hit him on the back of his head and pain exploded in his skull with a flash of blinding light. And then everything went dark.

Chapter 10

Bryanna jerked her hands, which were tied to the back of her chair.

“I’m telling you, he’s the lord of the estate, Raghnall Mackenzie, and I’m his wife!”

The shirtless man, staring at her and the unconscious Raghnall, who was tied to another chair by her side, raised one eyebrow.

“Ye think she’s telling the truth, Eanar?” asked the young woman, tying the straps of her simple, greenish-brown dress at the back of her neck.

Eanar narrowed his gaze at Bryanna and then at Raghnall, the wrinkling skin around his eyes showing he was older than he’d seemed at first, perhaps in his forties, despite a very impressive, muscular build. With a slightly crooked nose, he looked like an eagle.

“I dinna ken anything about Raghnall Mackenzie. He hasna been part of this clan for years.”

Her heart ached for Raghnall, limp and defenseless, his head hanging. Even though she didn’t know the whole story, she wasn’t a traitor. And if she was Raghnall’s wife now, she’d be loyal to her husband.

Better to choose the devil she knew, in any case.