The Highlander's Runaway Bride

And she was gone, deeply asleep in moments.

Rob stood and cleaned up from their meal, going out to wash the cups, bowl and spoons with water from the bucket outside. The sun had set and the air grew chilled. He closed the door tightly and dropped the latch and then did the same thing with the wooden shutters to keep out the winds.

Soon, the cottage was prepared for the night...but he was not. After adding some more peat to the fire, he lit a few candles and picked up her sack. Surely, there must be more inside than just the few items he’d seen when he opened it at the cave.

Sitting on the floor near her, he turned the sack inside out and watched as the few things fell before him.

A small sgian dubh, more suited for eating or mending tasks than for defence or attack. And she did not wear it in her boot where she could reach it quickly.

A leather purse holding some gold and silver coins. Not enough to live on for long, but enough to present a temptation to any thief along the road.

Another shift.

A set of prayer beads, carved out of some black stones. Well, she might appreciate the book he’d brought for her if she was a godly woman. But a godly woman knew her place and obeyed her father and then her husband. Eva MacKay did not know the first thing about obedience or her proper place if what she’d done so far was the measure used.

Rob laid the things aside and shook his head, watching her sleep there. What kind of woman would run away when given the news of an impending marriage? Especially a marriage that would hold benefits for both families involved.

She shifted on the furs and mumbled some words in her sleep. Though he could blame some of her restlessness in sleep on her illness and fever, she never seemed to be at peace when she slept. She called out names, mostly the one, throughout the time when sleep claimed her.

Something was wrong here. Very wrong.

If she did not know him or the Mackintoshes, then they could not be the reason for her refusal to accept the marriage. Yet, she did the unthinkable and left the safety and protection of her father’s keep to avoid it. Was it just maidenly fear or something more? Though clearly fear was not something that seemed to rule her life if she was brave enough to do what she’d done.

Rob stared at her, trying to decipher her actions and her intentions. If she did not want to marry him and had a good reason for her objections—one that would satisfy Brodie and Arabella—he would see that the betrothal was broken. He’d not expected a love match at all, but he would be damned before he married an unwilling woman.

If she would only explain herself...

The winds howled then, rattling the wooden walls of the cottage and sending cool air through the cracks. The low flames of the peat fire danced in the current. It would grow much colder before the sun rose in the morn.

Eva shivered then, curling herself into a tight ball under the blankets. He was tempted to wake her and give her the tunic she’d refused earlier, but he would not disturb whatever rest she could get. On the morrow, he would send word to her father that he’d found her, and they would begin the journey back to Castle Varrich a day or two after that.

For now, he did what he’d done these last three nights—he took off his boots and tunic and lay down next to her, sharing his body’s warmth with her. She startled a moment and then moved back nearer to him, as she did each time he shared the pallet with her. Then he pulled the extra blanket over both of them.

Although she sank into a deep sleep, it evaded him for hours. The riddle that Eva MacKay was haunted him all night. At some moment, he realised that she was awake next to him. So, he decided to ask her for her reasons.

‘Have you need of anything, lady?’ he asked first. ‘Do you thirst?’ Helga had told him he should give her as much to drink as possible.

‘Nay,’ she whispered back.

Silence reigned for a long minute or two before she spoke again.

‘You have slept like this each night, then?’ she asked.

‘Aye.’ Then he explained further, ‘At first there was no sleeping, you were that ill with fever. Then, I found that you were cold more than hot, so lying this way seemed to keep you warm.’

‘And you knew of the betrothal, so there was nothing wrong in the eyes of God or the law in doing that.’ Her words were more a declaration than a question, but there was something buried within them.

‘Just so.’

The lady began to say something more but paused and held her words behind her teeth. A minute later, she did the same thing—began and paused. When she did it for a third time, he spoke instead.

‘Just speak your mind, lady. Between us. Tell me what you wish to say.’

‘I mean no insult, sir. I have no intention to embarrass or insult your laird and chief. I just cannot marry you.’ He could hear her trying to remain calm and failing as her voice hitched on the words.

‘Is there someone else, lady?’ he asked. ‘Or do you have some other objection? Give me some reason that I can understand, for I have no wish to marry an unwilling bride.’ And he did not.

‘I cannot marry you,’ she repeated.

‘Mayhap if you’d remained in your father’s house and discussed this before the betrothal, we could have made an agreeable arrangement. Now, though...’ he said.

‘Nay, pray do not say it is too late now?’ she asked, turning to face him. The grimace of pain told that she’d forgotten that injury in moving.

‘The betrothal is legal and sound. I fear it is too late.’

Rob waited, waited for tears, waited for angry words, waited for some emotional reaction from her. None came. All he heard was the sound of her ragged breathing. Once more she turned away from him, tucking her face into the pillow.

* * *

A thought occurred to him in the night some time later, as they both yet lay awake in the dark.

He’d not wanted this marriage. She wanted it not. So, why would he force this? It spoke of a disaster in the making. And problems and conflicts every step of the way. He would not even have a marriage of convenience, he would have a marriage of catastrophe.

‘I will speak to your father when we return. ’Tis clear to me that we do not suit. My laird will offer suitable compensation for breaking the betrothal contract and handle the issue.’

‘Truly?’ she asked, her voice now filled with hope. And that stung worse than any of her words so far.

‘Aye. I want no unwilling wife.’

Then silence filled the cottage, broken only by the occasional crackle of the fire or burst of wind outside. He thought she might have fallen asleep as he still tried to do.

‘I thank you, sir. I will always be grateful for the mercy and good will you have shown me when you have every right to treat me otherwise,’ she whispered.

Again, her words stung him. However, he’d spoken the truth. It would be easier to return to her father and his laird with a specific reason for breaking the contract, but Rob knew Brodie would have his back in this...or in anything he asked him to.

He rolled to his side and found himself drifting to sleep.

* * *

At some time in those last few hours before dawn, she turned to him and he slipped his arm over her, drawing her closer. He drifted in and out of sleep until the sound of swords being drawn got his attention.

Opening his eyes, he found Ramsey MacKay and six of his warriors standing around the pallet where he and Eva lay.

Where the MacKay’s daughter lay naked in the arms of her betrothed husband. Where Eva MacKay sighed his name before opening her eyes to find her father standing above them.

Her reaction—a loud, shrill scream that filled the cottage and made him squint—was something Rob could understand. But it was the MacKay’s soft words that bothered him more.

‘Well, I guess ye have no objections to taking my daughter as yer wife after all, Mackintosh. Welcome to the family.’