Page 11 of Passion

Arabelle gave her a small shove and leapt back. “Catch me, if ye can.” She shot away.

With a laugh, Gwen sprinted after her. As usual, she let the little girl race just out of reach.

At last, Gwen overtook her sister and tumbled with her through the wildflowers. Arabelle giggled. Gwen closed her eyes. The sound was balm unlike anything else…except, perhaps, the laughter of a certain laird.

Half an hour later, after Gwen scribbled a letter for Caeleb and left instructions with Maggie to send it to Caeleb right away, she and Arabelle set off with a pack filled with food, peat for a fire, two warm blankets and the money Gwen had earned. They headed eastward, toward what would be their new home. With Arabelle at her side, hope burgeoned, but didn’t mask the guilt gnawing at her bones. Nor did it heal her broken heart.

As they followed the road, they shared stories of what they had done during their months apart. Gwendolyn allowed Arabelle to prattle on and forced herself to envision the events Arabelle described.

Arabelle abruptly looked up at her, dark eyes wide, and asked, “Gwenie, where are we going?”

“Home, Arabelle. We are going home.”

“Ye mean back to Glenwood Abbey?”

“Nae, lass. We will never step foot on Donald land again.”

“Malcolm said ye had to return to make right your mistakes.”

“My mistake was dealing with the Donalds,” Gwen said through tight lips. “I have corrected that mistake.”

“You told Malcolm the information he wanted?” Arabelle asked.

Gwen looked sharply at her. “He told ye that?”

“Only that you didnae tell him what you were supposed to. He asked if ye had told me any secrets.” Arabelle grinned. “I didnae tell him we planned to run away. I told you I could keep a secret.” She kicked a stone. “I am a lass grown.”

Gwen’s heart filled with pride. “Aye, love, you are. Do you remember me telling ye long ago about the cottage in the woods?”

Arabelle nodded. “Aye.”

“That is where we are going. From this day forth, we will never part again. I promise.”

“I love you, Gwenie.” Arabelle threw her arms around Gwen’s waist. Gwen stumbled to a halt. Arabelle pulled free. “I can reach that big rock up the path before ye can,” she laughed, whirled, and raced away as fast as her little legs could carry her.

Gwen laughed and raced after her sister.

Arabelle beat Gwen to the rock by a hair’s breadth. They slowed and walked in silence. The sun began to sink. Arabelle slowed further. They needed to find shelter for the night. They started across an open field. The night was warm. They could find a sheltered place among the trees, where they could sleep together on a soft bed of leaves. A balmy wind blew. Wildflowers and heather waved with the breeze. Halfway across the field, Gwen tensed. Had she heard horses’ hooves? She slowed and scanned the distance.

The pounding grew louder. Gwen spun. Riders bore down upon them across the field. She seized her sister’s hand and ran toward the trees They were too far away. They would never reach the trees before the riders overtook them.

Arabelle tripped. Gwen yanked her upright and kept going.

“Gwen,” Arabelle cried.

The pounding hooves were closer. Two riders shot in front of them and whirled their horses to face them. Gwen brought Arabelle to a halt and shoved her behind her. Gwen turned in a circle as more riders surrounded them.

Then she halted at sight of the giant warrior whose eyes blazed.

Tommen.