First, she’d tried to get Kieran to take her to England, but when Kieran had decided to keep her in Scotland and marry her, she’d turned her sights on Ewan, knowing he would be unable to stay there if he was to have her.
“I knew he’d have no choice save to bring me. How could he stay at home while Kieran was there to hate him?” The glee in her voice sickened him to this day.
Enraged over their deception, Ewan had challenged and fought the English knight. But too young to have gleaned much skill and too uncoordinated to match the smaller man’s agility, Ewan had lost the battle.
Defeated mentally and physically, he had been forced from the hall and sent on his way.
Even now, years later, the betrayal hung in Ewan’s heart with the weight of a millstone.
The entire way back to Scotland, he’d vowed to make it up to Kieran. To tell his brother they were both better off without the faithlessness of Isobail.
But he’d come home to his brother’s wake. Back to a home filled with grief over the fact that Kieran, unable to live without Isobail, had killed himself.
On this very day not long after Ewan and gone off with Isobail, his brother had come to this shore, doffed his clothes and sword, and walked out into the murky depths of the loch where he had found an end to the pain of his broken heart.
“I’m so sorry, Kieran,” Ewan whispered to the waves that lapped at his booted feet. “If I could, brother, I’d gladly give you my life so that you could have yours back.”
Like so many times before, the thought of joining Kieran crossed his mind. It would be so easy to just walk out into the waves as Kieran had done and let their soothing peace end his pain too.
To sink himself to the bottom of the loch where he could finally make amends to Kieran...
But he would never again be selfish.
One
It took a lot of nerve to face the devil in his lair. Or in the case of Eleanor ingen Alexander, it just took a lot of desperation. Desperation that hung in her heart and throat, choking her with its urgency.
If the devil refused to help her...
Well, she’d walk herself to England alone then. No one would sway her from this course. No one. Not her father, not her mother.
Not even the devil himself.
As she neared the cave at the top of the mountain, her courage faltered. Could a man really live in a cave? That was the rumor, but up until now she’d assumed it to be nothing more than a myth.
After all, the MacAllisters were the most respected and feared men in all of Scotland. They were also said to be the richest. Surely such men, unlike her burly and irksome father, would have some form of refinement.
Yet as she looked around the barren mountaintop, she saw nothing even remotely resembling a cabin or home.
Ewan MacAllister really was the barbarian of legend.
“That’s just as well.” She lifted the hem of her dark blue skirt to step around a cluster of rocks. She might be dreaming in her heart of a refined gentlemen of courtly virtues to win her hand, but a barbarian was what she needed at the moment.
A barbarian with a mighty big sword.
At the top of the craggy slope, she realized that the “cave” had a wooden door that was mostly concealed by brush and dirt. Apparently, Ewan MacAllister had no desire for visitors.
Any other time, she would take the hint and respect his wishes, but right now, she couldn’t afford to.
Her need for freedom was much greater than his for solitude.
Nora started to knock, then paused as she looked about the small cleared area.
What an interesting place he had here. The cave looked out onto the loch far below where the sunlight glistened on the water. It was a breathtaking view. Calm. Serene. No wonder the man had chosen it.
Surely a true barbarian wouldn’t be able to appreciate something as refined and beautiful as this view.
It gave her hope.
