The question that kept coming to her mind over the past week, once she could get a single thought to make sense, was how had this happened? Has she missed some sign from Sawny that he really did not want to get married? Had something changed his mind? Had she missed something during the preparations?
Her father had tried to make her feel better when he informed Adaira that her dowry had been returned by the Keppoch McDonald’s, thankfully avoiding any further conflict between the two families.
It did not make her feel better.
In the course of dealing with these tumultuous, gut-wrenching thoughts, part of her mind continued to flick back to her brother Reade and all of his cautious comments regarding Sawny. Even on her wedding day, Reade had grumbled about him.
She recalled Reade’s remark about Sawny’s true intentions the last night Adaira had seen him.
The last night any of the Glenachulish MacDonalds had seen him.
Had Reade been correct in his overly cautious, albeit crass assessment of Sawny? Adaira hesitated to admit it. She despised thinking that Reade might have been right all along.
Adaira rolled over and flopped onto her back to stare at the wood-beamed ceiling.
But if that were the case, it would mean Sawny fooled not only her, but her mother and her father, who were two of the most shrew people she knew, and also his own family.
His mother, dear Margaret. Could he do that to her? To his own mother?
Was Sawny that dark? That depraved?
Did he hold so many secrets that close to his chest that no one, not even his own family, his own mother, knew Sawny’s intentions?
Adaira absently brushed her tangled hair off her face. A second, larger question bloomed over all the other ones, however.
Where had he gone?
She was not prepared to believe he was dead. Adaira believed that she would feel that in her heart, like an aching bruise. Not this emptiness. If he were dead, she would know it.
Nay, she would not believe him dead.
So then where was he?
Her brothers and cousins had initially joined Sawny’s family in scouring the Highlands for the man. There had been no sign of him at all. Messengers and kin had traveled to the Lowlands and into England, inquiring.
No word of the man.
Two days after her wedding, Adaira had learned from Reade that Sawny had ridden out on the morning of the wedding to possibly bathe in a small loch near Keppoch House. His brother, Brodie, had offered to accompany him, but Sawny had brushed him off, saying it was probably one of the last moments he would have to himself this day and he wanted to wash and come back ready to marry the love of his life.
Those were his brother’s words to Brodie.The love of his life.How could someone abandon the love of their life?
Was Sawny that dark of a man to set everyone up on this path, and then walk it so convincingly, only to abandon them all at the final hour?
Adaira punched her coverlet.Nay!
That madenosense. Her mind always answered that question — he would not have done something so vile. That was not Sawny.
Yet on the heels of that though:then why did he leave ye on your wedding day?
Mayhap Sawnywasas dark as Reade had suggested.
But surely there should have been some trace of him somewhere. A piece of clothing, a torn plaid, or horse tracks through the glen leading from the loch. A message about where he was going left behind in his chambers or an off-handed statement to his brother or cousin.
Somethingto indicate where he went.
Rather it was like Sawny had stepped into the loch and then swam out of the existence of the world.
People did not just disappear.
