The Great Scottish Devil (21 page)

She curled her hands on the stone wall, for but a second considering flinging herself over the side and ending her life. What kind of life did she have anyway? Betrothed at King Edward's decision to wed a famed, powerful warrior who many feared and others worried about because of his memory loss. A handsome man, but not a man who drew her as only Jonathan did. A man who was in love with another woman. She had been battling this other woman from the day she had arrived at Urquhart. In truth, she admired many things about Annabel and envied her the freedom to do as she wished, go where she wanted without having to answer to anyone else. She argued with Annabel mainly because she was so very unhappy with the way her life was going. But when she thought about it, in truth, Annabel, too, was suffering. Her “wishes” and “wants” were no longer as free to come by as Agatha had once believed. Because Annabel was in love with Brodie, a man she could not have either.

The sound of horses pounding over the ground leading to the drawbridge drew her attention. She hurried over to the side of the parapet overlooking the main gate. Her heart pounded at the sight of Brodie Durward riding beside The MacKay, their couple dozen men trailing behind them. Her stomach knotted. She had to put aside her thoughts of Jonathan, had to focus on the wedding ceremony that was expected. She could never let Brodie know about the man she truly loved. She had to accept that she would soon be the bride of a Scottish lord, the bride of The Great Scottish Devil.

Forcing back the tears and the wishes that were never to become reality, she headed for the staircase.

* * *

“They are back!” one of the knights yelled from the doorway of the keep.

Annabel watched in stunned silence as immediately the men and women who had been sitting at various trestle tables visiting and drinking mead scrambled to their feet. They rushed outside to greet their returning laird.

Seated in one of the chairs beside the fireplace working on some needlework, she sucked in a breath. Nerves tangled in her stomach. Back. Finally back. And now her life would change yet again. She wasn't ready for it, but what choice did she have.

“Come along, dear,” Rose said and tossed her own needlework into her chair when she stood. “Hurry!”

Annabel saw the pure happiness spreading over her mother's face. She had grown more at peace with everything since they had talked the other day. Rose's guilt had been shed and she was determined to talk it out with her husband. Her parents would be all right, especially now that they had their daughter back. But, as the daughter, Annabel still wondered if she would be all right. They wanted to take her to their home and she had told Rose she would go. Still, it tore her apart knowing she would leave Urquhart, leave the people she'd come to love…leave Brodie.

“Roseanna?” Rose was nearly to the door when she realized her daughter wasn't with her. She looked back in concern. “Everything will be fine, ye'll see.”

For the first time, Annabel shook her head and said sadly, “Nay. Life will go on, but it will never be fine.” But she couldn't sit here and pout about what she couldn't change. She forced a semblance of a smile and went to join her mother in greeting the men as they returned.

Brodie had been impatient to get back here, as had Braden. Both were anxious to see Annabel again. Although Braden was also anxious to see his beloved Rose. The man, not normally much of a talker, had seemed to talk non-stop over the last day. He worried over what exactly to tell Rose about Alastair, about his admission of having been in love—more likely in obsession—with her. He believed she might feel even more responsible for their daughter's kidnapping than she already did. And he'd admitted that what had happened was not her fault, even though he'd known she still carried much guilt over it. He'd never told her that he didn't blame her, that he blamed himself for not having been there to protect them both. Now he was ready to beg her forgiveness for being such a fool. He was also ready to leave for their home further north in the Highlands as soon as possible.

He and Braden rode directly in front of the keep's steps before they dismounted and handed over the reins of their horses. Brodie nodded in acknowledgment to the many men and servants standing nearby to greet them. He didn't have to say that they had found their prey and taken care of the problem. All seemed to understand and looked relieved. His people knew that he had gone off with a task in mind and that he would see it done.

While he stretched his sore and tired body after the long ride back, he glanced at the three women waiting on the steps of the keep. Each seemed to be worrying in some manner. Rose looked her husband over from head to toe, clearly searching for injuries and praying she wouldn't see any. Brodie could read Rose's mind easily and her facial expressions told her emotions. They were deeply in love and he envied them.

As Braden walked to his wife and she moved into his embrace, Brodie looked toward Agatha. He'd left telling her they would wed as soon as he returned and he'd expected to see determination to get it done in her eyes. The ceremony and her many plans had been all she could talk about before he'd gone off after Sutherland. Now she stood there, quietly, uncertainly. There was something different about her. And when she met his gaze, he found sadness lurking in her eyes.

But it was Annabel who drew his focus. It was Annabel he'd ached to see…ached to hold…ached to…

He forced the wrongful thoughts aside. Yet he couldn't help frowning as he noted how she looked thinner, paler, sadder. Staying here was as hard on her as it was on him. Although he hated the idea of her leaving with the MacKays, he knew it was time.

Finally he broke his silence and said grimly, “Sutherland will naught trouble ye agin.” He sucked in a breath to steel his emotions before he added, “Yer travels to MacKay land will not be worrisome. Ye'll be safe now.”

Braden picked up on his comment and addressed his men standing nearby, his wife, and his daughter. “Aye, Lord Urquhart is right. 'Twill be safe to travel home now. We will leave on the morrow. We must get back north before the weather turns bad.”

Brodie watched Annabel's eyes widen for just a second and then she looked resigned. Not happy, but resigned. He started to say something to her, but she shook her head. What was there to say anyway? She must leave, and he had to stay.

Unable to withstand another moment of not being able to touch her, even speak to her, he turned abruptly away and headed for the tower house. He needed time alone.

Rose found him in the laird's bedchamber of the tower house where he'd ended up coming to mope instead of joining everyone for the evening's sup. He lay stretched out on the bed, staring at the high ceiling. He had somehow sensed she would come to him. The tenderhearted mother in her couldn't stand to see him suffer. She was the kind of mother Annabel should have had all her life.

“Ye could stop her from leaving, ye ken. She hurts as much as ye do.” Rose walked right next to the bed. Her eyes mirrored the pain she felt, knowing her newly found daughter suffered, knowing he suffered.

“I canna do it. I have given my word and must stand behind it.” He shifted his gaze away, swallowed a pain-filled lump in his throat. “Braden will find a guid husband fer her. She has a strong will at times, but Annabel is easy to love. Many men will fight fer her.”

“But naught ye.”

“Nay, naught me.”

Then she surprised him by slapping his foot and drawing his attention. The gentleness he'd seen before in her expression was replaced with anger. “Ye're naught worthy of my daughter, Brodie Durward. My daughter deserves a mon who would want her more than his own life.”

She spun around and stomped from the chamber. He curled his hands into fists and wanted to rage back, but she was right. He didn't feel worthy of Annabel. Even Agatha didn't deserve the man he was, a man with only a few of his memories, a man who may never be whole again.

Chapter Eleven

Varrich Castle, Tongue Bay, Scotland

A month later

By the time Annabel, her new family, and her father’s men reached Varrich Castle in the far north of the Highlands, she was ready to take her tinker wagon and go far, far away by herself. Her father had complained nearly every day of the month long journey. Why did she insist on bringing the wagon? It slowed them down. Why couldn’t she be happy about finally coming home? The Hendersons had never given her a proper home, she should be grateful to at long last have a real one. Why did she have to be so brooding? Why did she appear near tears all of the time? And why was she looking paler every day, not eating, running off to be sick every time they stopped? The questions—complaints—rolled over in her mind again as they rode through the outer gate.

When they rode into the inner bailey, she felt nauseous again. These last few days she hadn’t been as sick as when they’d first left Urquhart. Then it had to do with being pregnant. Lately it had more to do with nerves. Everything she’d known about herself had been a lie. The people who she had believed to be her parents weren’t. She was in truth the only daughter of the proud, powerful, Scottish chief of clan MacKay. These people who had rushed out from the keep and castle buildings to greet them watched her so curiously, warily…hopefully. She feared not being judged worthy in their eyes. She feared that eventually she would prove to be a grave disappointment to Braden and Rose. Especially when she found the courage to admit that she carried Brodie’s baby. What would they think of her? The worst, no doubt.

Trying not to think of that problem, she sat stiffly on the high seat of her wagon, reluctant to get down. She felt uncomfortable, alone among all of these strangers. The wagon had been her home and carried the memories of what had been her life. Somehow she felt the love of the Hendersons wrapping around her here.

The day had turned cold and snow was spitting. Everyone—except her—was anxious to get inside the warm keep. She heard her father boldly commanding the cooks prepare a grand feast in celebration. Again, her stomach felt queasy and she put a hand over the small lump there.
Oh, my precious babe, what am I doing here? We do not belong here. We do not belong anywhere now.
And, oh, how very much she missed Brodie.

As Rose hurried in her direction, Annabel blinked back tears. Her mother had been smiling when she’d approached, but now she said in concern, “Ye are feeling poorly agin. We need to get ye inside, get ye warm.” Her expression turned serious, knowing. “We must have a talk, daughter. Soon.”

Annabel’s heart pounded and the tears threatened to fall once more. She shifted her long skirt to climb down and whispered, “Aye. Soon.” It was indeed necessary, but she dreaded the conversation.

Braden strode over to them, snagged Annabel’s arm, and held her in front of him to face the people gathered around. His deep voice boomed over her head. “’Tis verra glad I am to have finally found our precious Roseanna. She hasna had an easy time and will take a bit to adjust. Be patient with her.”

She trembled within his hold. She wanted to find a place to run off to and hide for a while, somewhere to gather her thoughts and gather her courage to face so many changes.

“Say something to yer people, Roseanna,” her father commanded, clearly unaware of her concerns. “Let them ken ye are pleased to at last be home.”

She trembled even more and, to her embarrassment, the tears finally slid down her cheeks. “I…I…”

He glanced down at her in annoyance and would have prodded her again, but Rose rushed up to them. She glowered at Braden and pulled her from his grasp. “It has been a long, hard journey here, husband. Yer daughter is exhausted.”

“As are we all.”

Rose blew out a put-upon sigh. “She knows no one here; she is wary. She will speak to everyone when she has rested, when she is more comfortable.” She ignored his dark frown and tugged Annabel through the crowd and toward the steps to the keep.

“But the celebration?” Braden said on a growl of disapproval.

Rose stopped at the top of the steps and faced him, as well as the others. “The celebration can be on the morrow. The cooks need more time to prepare. And yer men need to rest as well. The celebration can wait.”

He didn’t look pleased, but he gave a curt nod. With that, Rose bustled Annabel inside the torch-lit great hall. After allowing a few seconds for their eyes to adjust, Rose led her directly toward the fireplace.

Annabel felt the immediate warmth from the fire blazing in the massive fireplace. It seemed like she hadn’t been warm for weeks. But her legs threatened to give out on her and she would have fallen to the rushes if Rose hadn’t held onto her.

“Ye have me worried, daughter. Ye need to eat better and ye will, even if I have to feed ye myself.” Rose glanced down for a second before adding, “Yer babe needs ye to take care of yerself.”

“
My babe
?” Annabel questioned in a loud whisper. “How do…”

Rose smiled at her. “A woman kens. Another mother kens.”

Annabel looked worriedly toward the door where Braden was now walking inside. “Does Braden know?”

“He is a man. They dinna ken these matters as easily as a woman. And I havena mentioned it to him.” She met Annabel’s gaze. “But ye must tell him soon.”

Braden walked up, frowning. “Tell me what?”

Instead of answering him, Rose firmly said, “Yer daughter is beyond tired, husband. Mayhap it would be best if ye carried her up the stairs to her bedchamber.”

His frown deepened. “Ye are tired, too, wife.”

She tapped her slippered foot. “Canna ye jist do as I asked fer once? Ye’ve all these big muscles. Use them. Carry yer daughter up the stairs.”

He blinked at her insistence, gave a crooked smile at her reference to his muscles. Then he scooped Annabel off her feet so quickly she gave a squeak of dismay. This was the first time he’d actually touched her and it surprised her, pleased her, too. She was too struck by a mixture of emotions to speak, to complain that she could have walked by herself. He seemed struck by emotions as well and simply held her tightly and carried her up the stairs as if she weighed nothing at all.