Page 63 of His Forgotten Highland Bride

Chapter Twenty-Three

Three days later, Ronan was finally ready to leave their room and venture outside again. Brenna suggested they go hunting together, and they had awakened early enough to satisfy their desires and still make it to the stables in good time.

She gathered bannocks to break their fast, and he readied the horses and weapons.

He kissed her as she tucked the food into her pack and helped her mount the tall stallion. He had seen much of his wife’s body over the past few days, but there was something about seeing the curves of her body wrapped in soft leather trews that made him want to carry her back to their bed despite the soreness in his leg that morning. Some things were worth the pain.

They rode silently for a bit, him watching her rather than where they were going. It wasn’t until he looked up and saw the sun glinting off the surface of the water that he sucked in a breath. Brimstone, ever perceptive of Ronan’s slightest distress, came to a stop.

“What is it?” Brenna asked as she came to a stop next to him. She glanced at the water and back at him. “Do you see someone? Is it Ewan?” She twisted in her saddle, looking about.

“Nay. ’Tis not Ewan. It’s that I haven’t been here in many years. Not since I was a boy. This is…” He swallowed and decided to force the information from his lips. “This is where I nearly died.”

“When you almost drowned, and Ewan saved you?”

“Aye. We were swimming here.”

Her brows pulled up in confusion. “This lake is not so deep. I didn’t realize it was this pond. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come this way if it distresses you.”

He raised his hand to set her mind at ease and looked at it as she did. The body of water was more of a shallow pond than the dark depths he seemed to remember.

“Come, let us leave,” she said.

He agreed, though he turned to look over his shoulder, still surprised to see such an innocent-looking place. Tranquil even. He nudged Brimstone into a trot and left this place’s ghosts behind him again.

When they arrived at the forest’s edge, where she preferred to hunt, he helped her down, lingering long enough for a kiss. His earlier alarm had gone. She smiled and he laughed with her. He didn’t know he could be so happy. Not for the first time did he curse himself for being away all this time.

“Do you think we will ever have enough?”

“God, I hope not. In our defense, we have much time to make up for,” he pointed out. So many years they’d spent longing for something they could have had each night if not for his selfishness.

“Especially since we both remained chaste all this time.” She smiled, and he saw the pleasure his fidelity had brought her.

“It was worth it,” he said easily now that he no longer needed to remain chaste. It was one of the most challenging things he’d ever done.

“Why did you?”

“Why did I honor my vows and be faithful to my wife?” he teased, though she was still waiting for an answer. He shrugged.

“It couldn’t be for any respect for me personally. You hardly knew me, and I know it wasn’t your choice to marry me.”

He let out a breath and wondered if he’d ever forgive himself for his behavior when he’d first met his wife. Seeing how Gabe had stepped forward to marry Isabelle in her time of need shamed Ronan as he recalled his cowardice. He’d been nearly the same age Gabe was now. Yet the soldier didn’t waver in doing what was right—even taking on a child that wasn’t his by blood.

“I was a fool not to see how wonderful a wife you would be. I was an impatient arse.”

“It is impossible to see the moon when the sun shines so brightly.”

He didn’t need to ask what she meant by that. Hannah. For all the ways his wife had grown into herself, it was clear this uncertainty remained. She’d heard him state his preference for her older sister, and it was yet another thing he regretted.

“I mostly prefer the nights when it is only me and the vibrant light of the moon,” he said, hoping to convince her he was more than pleased with the sister whose hand he’d taken in marriage.

She smiled again but said, “You didn’t answer my question.”

He hadn’t. She wanted to know why he’d remained celibate all those years.

“Two reasons, I guess. My father didn’t think much of men who didn’t honor their wives. My mother may have disillusioned my da, but he loved her deeply, as did my stepfather. I grew up seeing a man devoted to his wife in both homes. It may seem silly, but it was how I was raised and what I felt was right.”

“And the second reason?”