Bound by Wish and Mistletoe (Highland Legends, Book 1.5) (7 page)

Another frisson of energy sizzled into Robert’s awareness, and he finally glanced up at the impressive force that had come out to greet them. Clan Brodie and her castle had finally arrived. They waited no longer.

“Susanna, turn around. ’Tis time to go home.”

CHAPTER
SEVEN

Susanna turned around, and her jaw dropped as she registered an imposing army of men standing just beyond the tree line. She blinked hard, twice, for she swore one of the men—a good head taller than the rest—had enormous black
...
wings
? Beyond the men, further up the rise, rose a formidable stone wall and the turrets of a castle that disappeared into a dark-clouded sky—
a castle which hadn’t been there before.

Fragile snowflakes continued to drift down while she stared in silent wonder at the unbelievable sight. Had the snowfall been so heavy she hadn’t noticed a castle through the trees? She shook her head. From the time she was knee-high, she’d always thoroughly scanned her surroundings, everywhere she went. Doing so helped identify danger and had protected her on many occasions.

“That is your clan’s castle?” she asked, unable to clarify her confusion.

“Aye, lass. She’s remarkable, is she not?”

“Aye. I seem to be in dire need of food, however. My hunger has affected my senses.” She raised her hand to her forehead, covering her right eye and peered at the extraordinary sight, including the winged man, with her uncovered left.

Robert laughed. “Of course, lass. Are you ill?”

“Perhaps,” she replied, lifting the fingers of both hands to her temples. “I doona know if I hit my head yesterday, or if I’ve gone too long without eatin’ today, but I’m seein’ things that are not there and failin’ to notice things that are.”

From behind, Robert wrapped his arms around her. They were solid, comforting. In her internal distress, she welcomed an embrace that she would’ve shunned a few short hours ago.

The one with wings—massive, glistening black wings that arched two feet higher than his shoulders—vanished before her eyes. Amazed, and certain she hadn’t blinked, she closed her eyelids heavily and reopened them to find the creature still missing.

Robert dropped his mouth to her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. “Lass, you shall enjoy a sumptuous feast. Then we’ll talk of all the things you saw and failed to see.”

She nodded absently. An army whose collective gaze had rested on her disbursed upon seeing Robert’s arms wrapped around her in evident claim. With her hands gripping the muscular forearms that bound her waist, she welcomed his protection...for the moment.

On foot, Duncan and Seamus led their horses, including the one carrying the stag they’d killed and another towing the pine tree they’d harvested. Robert ushered her behind them, over a wooden drawbridge spanning an icy moat, his right arm wrapped around her shoulders.

She caught sight of him pressing his left hand to his side, his fingers covered in fresh blood. “Robert! You’re hurt!” She tried to turn to better assess his injury.

Robert’s right hand gripped her shoulder, preventing her escape from his hold. “Nay, love. ’Tis but a scratch. Doona worry over me.”

She huffed out a white puff of air as their boots echoed over the last wooden planks of the drawbridge. Amid a list of things out of her control since she’d escaped her father’s domain, the most bewildering of all was that Robert had just called her love. No one but Mama had uttered the endearment to Susanna, and her chest seized with sudden upset. She took in short, deep breaths, scanning the castle grounds as she tried to calm herself.

An astonishing scene unfolded in the castle’s great courtyard, scattering the troubles that whirled in her head. She paused, watching in surprise as merriment abounded everywhere she looked. At least half a dozen children chased a large wolfhound puppy, the dog and the children sliding in the new-fallen snow. Squeals of laughter rang out while everyone scrambled u
p and chased one another again.

A large warrior stalked up behind the children and launched a huge ball of snow from his fist. The wet clump splattered onto the shoulder of one of the children, sticking to the child’s dark woolen cape.

The young boy spun around. “Laird!” All the boy’s companions sprang into action, scooping up snow and launching it at their laird and each other.

She stared in rapt fascination.

Robert laughed, his face dropping near her ear. “That would be Laird Iain. The closer fatherhood comes to the man, the more he plays among the wee ones.”

Fresh snowballs were thrown from every direction as a crowd gathered at a safe perimeter to watch the fun. A few other men and many more children joined in the frosty battle.

“Listen to them, Robert,” she whispered, amazed. “Listen to all the laughter.”

“Aye.” Robert squeezed her arm, a broad smile on his face. “Come, Susanna. ’Tis cold, and we’re both tired. Let’s get inside to soak in hot baths.”

“A hot bath? Truly?” She gaped at him, shocked such a luxury would be extended to a stranger.

“Aye. I’d wager there’s one already bein’ drawn for you.”

She stared in disbelief, yet he guided her forward, urging them toward the sizable keep. The hill they climbed was gradual, but two feet of snow on the ground made her steps heavier than normal, and she soon labored for breath, hot puffs of fog flowing out from her lips.

Dozens of steep-roofed cottages had been frosted in white, their blackened stacks spiraling out a thin tendril of dark smoke. Two soldiers on horseback rode by to their left and continued down to larger structures, where they dismounted before the open doors of a stable.

Duncan and Seamus untied the pine tree, and Seamus hoisted it upon one of his massive shoulders before heading their same direction. As their group approached a great oak door through a stone archway, Duncan jogged ahead of them and pushed it open. Robert held Susanna back as Seamus squeezed backward through the doorway with the tree, its branches scraping either side of the wooden frame.

The bittersweet scent of pine filled her nostrils as they stepped into a great hall unlike her wildest imaginings; her view of the glittering scene opened wide as Seamus veered off toward a massive stone hearth.

Short, fat beeswax candles on a multitude of ledges gleamed with orange flame while slender tapers flickered in ornate, multi-pronged frames in the corners of the gigantic room. Fresh rushes and a purple haze of dried lavender covered the expansive oak floor. Long lengths of greenery were stretched across wooden tables beside red bows and branches of white berries gathered into piles. Attendants moved about the room carrying one decorative thing or another as a flurry of activity happened everywhere Susanna looked.

“Seamus!” an attractive, very pregnant woman with wavy blond hair shouted. “You’re dropping snow from that tree with each step you take.”

Seamus paused midgait without looking over to her. He tightened the fist that engulfed the trunk of the tree and rapidly shook his forearm. With the force of the sudden tremors, the remaining snow from every last pine needle quivered off, raining onto the floor where he stood.

“There, M’Lady. My pardon for mussin’ your hall,” Seamus said with a smirk. His next steps were snowfall free.

The woman rolled her eyes and kept them toward the ceiling, muttering something about the Lord...and patience. Susanna followed the woman’s gaze upward to see dramatic stone beams that arched toward the center of the cavernous room. Their remarkable bluish gray surface sparkled in the firelight.

She dropped her gaze back down at Robert’s gentle tug.

“M’Lady, this is Susanna. I hope to provide her refuge here. Perhaps a hot bath and a hearty meal to start,” Robert said.

Susanna looked into two brilliant emerald eyes. Tiny dimples appeared on the woman’s cheeks as she grinned broadly. “It’s very nice to meet you, Susanna. Please call me Isobel.”

Susanna gasped as her jaw dropped and remained open. She snapped it shut upon the realization. “You’re English?”

“Yes,” Isobel replied.

“I’m English, too!” Susanna cringed the moment the blurted words burned her ears. Several heads turned their way. Her cheeks flamed hot at the sudden realization of what she’d admitted, which was only a half-truth.

Isobel cocked her head and opened her mouth, like she was about to say something.

Robert interrupted, turning to Susanna. “You’re English? You doona
sound
English.”

Susanna glanced up at Robert, her heart racing. With the damage already done, she promptly explained. “My mother was from
England.”

Surprisingly, Robert
’s expression softened, and he nodded, as if a missing puzzle piece had been placed. An odd relief washed through her at his lack of judgment.

Distracted by having something in common with another soul, she shifted her attention back to Isobel. “Mama told me countless stories about
England, sharin’ many things she missed greatly about her country.”

Isobel smiled weakly. “Uhhh
...I come from a place of the English also—but not from your mother’s England.” Isobel’s gaze locked with Robert’s for a brief instant. “We’ll talk more about that later, though. Let’s get you into a hot bath.”

Another young woman, Susanna guessed Isobel’s sister, stepped forward. “Hello, Susanna. I’m Brigid. I’ll take her up, Isobel.”

Isobel sighed. “Not alone. I’m coming with. Iain will be back any moment, and I don’t need to catch a lecture or worse for straying one moment from your side.”

Brigid took Susanna’s hand and led her to the wide stone steps that lined the front wall. A gentle tug from Brigid made her pause as they waited for Isobel to start her slow ascent. Susanna watched as the woman in a soft-gray day dress took each step with poised grace, leaning one delicate hand on the wall for balance.

Isobel suddenly yelled out without turning around, “Robert, go straight to the apothecary before one more drop of your blood hits the floor.”

Robert’s laughter rumbled out behind them. “Aye, M’Lady.”

Once they reached the landing, Susanna was led down a hall, past several closed doors, to a room whose entrance stood at an angle in the hall’s bend. Brigid grasped the decorative iron handle and pushed. The sound of creaking hinges tickled into Susanna’s ears as they entered a spacious, bright bedchamber.

A maid stood over a sizable wooden barrel in the center of the room, pouring steaming water into the tub from a large pitcher. Another maid arranged garments on the bed: a chemise, a ruby gown, and a hair comb adorned with emeralds. Matching ruby slippers were deposited on the wooden floor.

“Would you like to bathe alone, or would you prefer our company?” Isobel asked.

Susanna blinked. No one had seen her unclothed body before, besides Mama.

She’d also never had any contact with other females her age; she’d never been allowed a single friend. And no one but Mama had extended any courtesy or kindness to her. In her dark and sheltered world, no one had been given the chance.

“I’d
...like company, if that’s acceptable,” she said in a soft tone. As unnerving as it was to bare herself before others, she was more afraid to be left alone in a castle full of strangers.

Isobel nodded to both of the maids. They gave a polite nod in return
and quietly left the room.

Susanna bent over, untied the laces to her worn leather boots, and stepped out of them. Weary from the day, she slowly reached leaden arms behind her back to undress.

“Allow me to help,” Brigid said. She circled behind and tugged at the ribbons tied at the back of Susanna’s gown. The dress was one of her mother’s—a gown she cherished, since Mama had often told her that its rich sapphire hue matched her eyes in the firelight.

Susanna held the bodice over her breasts as the material fell free. Bashful in front of the two women, she stood facing away from them as they helped her lift the gown and chemise over her head.

Cool air from the room danced over her skin, cascading goose bumps over arms and chest before she stepped into the tub. With one hand gripped on the wooden rim and the other holding Brigid’s hand, she gingerly lowered herself into the hot water.

She groaned, closing her eyes as soothing heat penetrated aching muscles, some of which she hadn’t realized were sore and others she hadn’t known she possessed. Although she’d snuck out on many an occasion to learn how to ride a horse, she’d never ridden longer than a stolen hour on any given day over the last few summers. Hours upon hours for a day and a half on horseback had taken a toll on her body she hadn’t anticipated. Knowing the result, however, wouldn’t have made any difference in her choice to escape. The price was small compared to the alternative.