Chapter 20
Dear Camellia,
I have misplaced the recipe for the lackluster pear tart, so I cannot give it to you. But perhaps we can create a new dessert when I see you in London.
Heather
While Niall was riding back and forth on moonless roads, Heather had also spent a restless night, though she did not leave her room. After penning a quick letter to Camellia with the coded phrase calling for help, she tried to name all the cities she wanted to see:Paris. Cairo. Niall. New York. Niall.
Ugh. Every time she closed her eyes, all she could think about was Niall. It was not conducive to sleep. So she plotted her route from the stable, through the gates, to the track, to the village. There, she’d wait for the first coach traveling toward London, and leave the horse with the innkeeper, who’d know to hold it until the MacNairs came looking. And by the time they did look, Heather would be well on her way, living her own life by her own choice, going where she pleased and not looking over her shoulder for pursuers who only cared about her money.
Morning brought a sunny sky and no happiness to Heather, who was tired and hungry. Hunger could be solved, at least. She dressed and hurried downstairs, keeping her eyes and ears open for any hints that Niall suspected her plan. But nothing appeared different at all. There were no more guards about than usual, and everyone just nodded or bowed to her as they always did.
Niall was in the great hall, accompanied by his brothers. Apparently, they’d been there for quite some time, judging by the empty dishes and the scattered cups (some for tea, some for ale).
She said good morning to Ian and Robert and steadfastly ignored Niall—though she noticed he didn’t look well-rested.Good, she thought.I hope he didn’t sleep either.She sat at the end of the long table and ate her breakfast with gusto, refusing to even look in Niall’s direction.
The day dragged on. She didn’t want to leave until the activity in and around the castle slowed. Based on what she’d noticed after a few weeks of living there, mid-afternoon was calmest. The morning chores were all done but the evening ones had not yet started—except for in the kitchen, where work never ended.
To occupy her mind, she offered to help Maeve with a few errands and chores, and truly enjoyed her time doing them. Maeve was a sweet and kind person. Heather would have been delighted to have her for a sister, if things had been different.
She ate a hearty luncheon (having learned the hard way about running away on an empty stomach). Finally, Heather returned to her room and pulled the bag out from under the bed. She concealed it by throwing a blanket on top. If anyone asked, she’d say she spilled some water on it and was taking it outside to dry.
However, no one did ask, and Heather did her best to take the least-populated hallways and stairs in the castle. She threw the blanket over a line with some other laundry, and walked to the stables.
Moments later she was taking Sterling past the gates, casually remarking to the man on guard that it was a lovely morning for a ride. She flicked the reins, encouraging the horse to get out of the gate area as quickly and quietly as possible.
Was it that easy, after all? She glanced behind her, at the towers and roofs and windows of Carregness. She felt a little sad that she couldn’t properly say goodbye to Maeve and the others. It was hardly the sort of behavior Mrs. Bloomfield taught her.
But if she’d told anyone she was leaving, Niall would hear and put a stop to it. He was their laird now. They were loyal to him, and Heather was not much more than a stranger. So she focused on the path in front of her, the track that entered a small wood before it wound its way up the ridge.
The path to the village was familiar to the horse, so Heather let her mind wander. But then she instantly relived the moment when Niall admitted that he’d come into the room to seduce her, to seal her fate and take her money. The fact that he stepped back from the brink at the last moment was hardly a relief. If Niall could be tempted to turn on her—after so many times when he’d helped her, staunchly defended her, and steadfastly refused to take the final step that would shackle her to him—then how could she trustanyman? No, it was time to leave, before anyone else could step in and dictate her path.
With the several ten pound notes Uncle Cyril had included in his nagging letters to her earlier, Heather ought to have enough funds to get to London. There, she’d consult with her old school friends before she boarded a ship…the one that would take her to all the places she wanted to go. To take her across the world she wanted to see. Heather Hayes, intrepid explorer!
No, she couldn’t use that name, not until she was sure her uncle had stopped pursuing her. And Heather MacNair was equally dangerous…she could easily imagine a whole clan of Scottish trackers on her trail. What name could she take, when she didn’t even have a home?
Then it came to her—Wildwood Hall. Her school, the source of her greatest friendships and where she learned so much.
“Heather Wildwood,” she said out loud, testing the name. “Miss Wildwood.”
It would do.
She rode onward, hoping to get to the village well before anyone wondered where she was. The route Sterling took climbed a hill at one point and the trail switched back for a while, so that Heather looked down on the long, narrow valley and loch where Carregness Castle stood. When the place came into view, her heart wrenched unexpectedly. She was only there for a short time, but how the people there had grown into her heart. An image of Niall flashed before her eyes, and Heather suddenly wanted to weep.
Why did it all have to be so complicated? Why couldn’t she get his face out of her mind? She didn’t evenlikehim, after all. And certainly not now, when he’d disappointed her by proving himself to be depressingly human, not the perfect, sweet, funny partner she’d made him into in her own dreams. A man she could fall in love with.
A man she did fall in love with.
“Oh, no you don’t,” Heather warned herself, far too late.
Because she realized then why Niall’s near-betrayal hurt her so much. It was because she had, somewhere over the past few weeks, succumbed to something far worse than losing her virginity. She’d lost her heart.
It was so unfair. She’d fought off the constant attraction, the desire to give in and play the part completely, to experience what it would be like to share herself with Niall…only to completely give over her heart to him without even realizing she’d done it. Ugh, those times he smiled at her and told her some terrible joke. The time he pulled the blanket up to make sure she stayed warm. Those times he’d held her when she was upset.
Each little event added up, assaulting the walls around Heather’s heart until they were rubble, like the ancient stone defenses of Carregness.
Leaving was the only way. Heather urged the horse to move; not long after that, she could see the village ahead. She rode in, nodding to the people who greeted her. Some recognized her as Lady MacNair, and others were just polite. Heather couldn’t pretend to be anyone else just yet, so she merely returned the pleasantries and hoped no one would ask about the laird.
