Nora prayed that wasn’t true.
But in the event it was, she set about making Ryan’s life miserable. She chattered endlessly every time he came near her. She played her lute until he begged and threatened her to stop. She did everything she could think of to unnerve him.
And more times than not, she would send Ryan off in a hurry within minutes of his drawing close to her.
“Release me from the betrothal,” Nora had asked him repeatedly.
Her only answer was the ever steadfast. “I can’t.”
And so it went until she was ready to scream.
Now as they neared the end of the journey, she watched Ewan atop the wagon while she rode on a horse beside him. He kept his eyes focused straight ahead and yet she had a sneaking suspicion that he knew exactly where she was and what she was doing.
“I suppose you’ll be glad to be rid of me,” she said to him as he tried to ignore her. “You’ll be able to go back to your cave now.”
He didn’t respond.
“I’ll be glad to have a bed again,” Ryan whined from where he rode behind her. “I fear my stomach has been damaged eternally. This pace the last few days has nigh killed me.”
‘Twas a pity Lochlan lived so close.
Nora! She chastised herself.
How uncharitable!
It was, but at the same time, she couldn’t bring herself to feel more kindly toward the man who was about to ruin her only chance at happiness.
She’d lost one man to another woman.
Now she was going to lose Ewan because of his honor.
Och, men and their honor. They were quite beastly about it when they wanted to be. Oh for the day when they would let love rule them and not their stupid code of nobility.
She sighed wistfully as she watched him.
Please God, please help him to see that I need him as much as he needs me.
They rode silently through the gates of Lochlan’s castle only to be pulled into full scale pandemonium.
Her parents, Lysander, Bavel and Ewan’s entire family were all gathered in the bailey and not a one of them looked any too pleased.
Nora wanted to turn her horse about and ride straight to England alone.
She could tell by the tenseness of Ewan’s body that he had much the same inclination, but true to his character, he headed straight for the maelstrom.
On the steps outside the castle’s door was a short, dark-haired woman who looked so much like Ewan that Nora was certain it was his mother. Two black haired men flanked her and by their heights and proximity to the woman, she assumed them to be two of Ewan’s brothers.
One was dark and deadly, his stare sinister. Judging by rumor, she would assume him to be Sin MacAllister who had married the Lairdess of the MacNeely clan. A beautiful red-headed lady stood beside him. Her noble stance confirmed her station. No doubt she was Caledonia of the Clan MacNeely—a distant cousin to Nora whom she had never met.
The other dark-haired man was so handsome that to look at him was to ache. He was truly perfection and the woman to his side was surrounded by children. Her red hair wasn’t as vibrant as Caledonia’s, and her features leaned toward plainness.
But when she nudged Braden and he looked to her, the love on his face said that he thought her to be the most beautiful woman on earth.
Catarina gave a low whistle. “Who is that man standing next to Alex?”
Nora looked to her father and saw the man Catarina had noticed. He was tall, blond and extremely handsome.
Frighteningly so.
