Highland Love Song (DeWinter's Song 2) (8 page)

If she could make her way to the stable and take a horse, she could ride into the first village and beg for help. Surely someone would come to her aid.

For some reason an old saying Aunt Mary was fond of reciting came to her mind. When you are forced to dance with the devil, make certain it's to your tune.

Arrian knew what she had to do.

Mactavish looked at Warrick with a frown. "I've seen you grow from a lad into a man. I've seen you struggle against an unloving father to become a man of honor who cares about the clan that depends on you for their survival. I've seen you take food from your table so they wouldn't go hungry. I've also seen your grief when your sister died, and I grieved with you. But until today, I've never had a reason to be ashamed of you, Warrick Glencarin. You must let them both go as soon as possible."

"I didn't bring them here," Warrick said, "but I'll take advantage of the fate that placed them in my hands."

"You'll not force the lass to marry against her will, Warrick. That's unworthy of you."

"Why not? Jamie Maclvors forced Lady Helena to marry him. It's my right."

"Your fight is not with Ian Maclvors's betrothed. She's innocent. Let her go. If you do this thing, who can say you are more noble than the Maclvors?"

"If she agrees to the Irregular Marriage, she'll come to no harm from me."

Mactavish looked doubtful. "And you'll let her go?"

Warrick took a moment to answer. "After a time, when it suits me."

Frustration showed on the older man's face. "I'll have no part in this, Warrick."

"Have you forgotten my sister?"

A deep intake of breath expanded Mactavish's wide chest. "I've not forgotten."

"As my friend, will you stand beside me as my witness?"

"What’ll you do if the lady refuses?"

"Let her go, even though she thinks she's my prisoner. I could never force myself on a woman—not even for revenge. I'd like to think my hate for the Maclvors hasn't brought me that low."

Mactavish nodded. "Aye, lad. I'll stand beside you. But you must be prepared for the disastrous backlash that'll surely come. At that time, you'll need me more than ever."

"I'm depending on you."

Arrian stood by the window watching snowflakes drift slowly earthward. She did not reply to the knock on the door or turn when Lord Warrick entered. He moved to stand beside her, took her by the shoulder, and turned her to face him.

"Have you decided?" He could tell nothing from her expression.

She wanted to strike out at him. He was hateful and demanding, but she had to remain calm and pretend to be passive. "You must understand that I love Ian. In my heart, I'll never belong to you."

He laughed. "You are assuming that I want your heart—I assure you I do not."

"If I agree to this farce, I don't want you ever to touch me."

Warrick released her and stepped back a pace. "I will not touch you unless you ask it of me, my lady . . . and perhaps you will."

She raised her head, her eyes flaming with indignation. "Never!"

"Enough of this. Have you made up your mind?"

Arrian appeared to waver, as if she were considering the alternatives anew.

When he saw her indecision, he spoke. "You will have your own room with the only key. You have my word."

"I don't know if your word can be trusted."

"I haven't broken it as of yet."

She swept him a haughty curtsy. "It would seem that you have the whip hand, my lord."

"Just so you remember that."

"I think you will live to regret this."

His eyes burned into hers. "I have many regrets, my lady. One more will not trouble me overmuch."

"Just when will you expect me to participate in this mockery of a marriage?"

"Tonight at nine. Since your aunt is so ill, I thought we would have the ceremony in her room so that she can bear witness. I'll send Mrs. Haddington to help you dress for the occasion."

"No, I do not wish the ceremony to take place until tomorrow. I need time to prepare."

He was silent for a moment as he pondered her words. "Agreed. What's one day more?"

Arrian pretended to accept him while planning her escape. "I want you to know that I will never, never consider myself your wife."

He smiled for the first time. She had expected to see him gloat because he had gotten his way, but there was only humor in his eyes.

"It will be at best an uneasy alliance, my lady."

7

Arrian waited by the fire, fearfully listening for the sound of Lord Warrick's footsteps. When he did come, she heard him pause at her door. She felt relief when he left and went to his own bedroom.

The clock struck midnight, and still Arrian waited. She would allow another hour to pass. By then surely everyone would be in bed, and she could make her escape.

She had dressed in a warm woolen gown and slipped into her riding boots. Scooping up her gloves and fur-lined cape, she slowly opened the door. The hallway was silent and dark. She picked up a single candle and moved quickly in the direction of her aunt's bedroom.

Lady Mary was clearly restless, and she moaned as Arrian approached her. Taking her hand, Arrian saw her aunt's eyes slowly open.

"Where have you been, child? I have been so worried about you."

Arrian wanted to throw herself into her aunt's arms and blurt out all her fears. But knowing how ill Lady Mary was, she dared not burden her. She would tell her as little as possible.

"Aunt Mary, I have decided I must go for help. We are not safe here."

"I blame myself for this," her aunt said. "If I hadn't been a stubborn old woman who was set on having her own way, none of this would have happened."

"Don't blame yourself. You are not to think of anything that will upset you. Just conserve your strength, and I'll be back for you."

Lady Mary's eyes widened with concern. "What has happened? Has that devil laid his hands on you?"

Arrian fought against the tears that swam in her eyes. "He is making demands that I cannot tolerate."

Lady Mary closed her eyes while she gathered her strength. When she looked at Arrian there was desperation in her gaze. "You must get away now—tonight!"

Arrian leaned forward and pressed her cheek to her aunt's. "I wish I didn't have to leave you."

Lady Mary's mind seemed to clear. "He will not harm me. It's you I'm worried about. Go—hurry!"

"I will attempt to make my way to the stables without being discovered."

"Is it still snowing?"

Arrian ran to the window. "No. The moon's out, and it's as bright as daylight." She did not mention to Aunt Mary that there were dark clouds gathering in the distance.

"It grieves me that you have been forced into this position." Lady Mary gave Arrian an encouraging smile. "You can make it safely away—you must."

They looked at each other in understanding. "I would rather freeze than give in to Lord Warrick's demands."

"Yes, dearest," Aunt Mary said, "it would be the lesser evil." She shook off her gloom. "But you are a fine horsewoman, and you'll make it. When you are mounted, take the road south. Have you money?"

"Yes."

"I curse this weakness that keeps me from going with you." Lady Mary tried to ignore the pain in her leg. "You must ride for Aberdeen. When you get there, go directly to the house of the Lord Mayor. He'll help you, because he's a friend of my father's."

"How far is it?"

"I can't be sure. Perhaps you will have to ride all night and most of the day. When you come to a village, buy a fresh mount. Keep going even if you are weary." Her words were urgent. "You must leave now."

"Don't despair, dearest aunt. I will get help and come back for you."

Lady Mary gripped Arrian's hand. "Don't come back. I will deal with Lord Warrick. You must go now. If you are lucky, they won't miss you until morning."

Arrian slipped her cape around her and put on her gloves. "Pray for me, Aunt Mary."

"I shall, child. Now leave while it's still dark. That will be your one advantage."

Arrian walked quickly to the door and turned back to her aunt. "I'm loath to leave you. It is the hardest thing I have had to do in my life."

"You are not leaving me, Arrian. I'm sending you away."

She went quietly out the door and closed it behind her.

Lady Mary lay staring at the fire and listening to the settling of the house. "God go with you, dearest child, and take you in His keeping."

Arrian quietly descended into the darkness of the entryway, keeping well into the shadows. As she opened the front door it creaked on its hinges, and her heart stopped. Moments passed, and no one came to investigate, so she rushed outside, closing the door behind her.

Since Aunt Mary's bedroom faced the back of the castle, her view had been of the sea. Arrian was therefore not familiar with the grounds, and it took her a moment to locate the stable. She ran across the courtyard and down the snow-packed path. When she reached the stable, she stopped to catch her breath and turned back to make certain no one was following her.

She was grateful that the stable door swung open on well-oiled hinges. There was no light inside, so she paused long enough to allow her eyes to become accustomed to the dark.

Moonlight streamed through a window, helping her locate the stalls. She passed the first stall and stopped at the second, where she found a spirited animal that looked as though he could make the arduous journey.

In the shadow interior she found a saddle and threw it over the horse's back. It was a man's saddle, but what did that matter. Tightening the cinch under the horse's belly, she led him outside. The night was awash with moonlight glistening off the snow. She had hoped for darkness to aid in her escape, but the storm clouds still loomed against the distant horizon.

With resolve Arrian slipped her foot into the stirrup and climbed into the saddle. She urged the horse into a walk and moved along slowly until she topped a hill and rode down the other side. Then she kicked him in the flanks, and he shot forward.

Apparently she had chosen well, for the animal's long strides quickly took them away from the castle. When she topped another hill, she drew rein and looked back at Ironworth. The view took her by surprise, for it was a picture of beauty and tranquility. The gray castle dominated the landscape, and in the background she could see waves splashing on the shore. The whole scene was bathed in mystical white snow, making it appear illusory.

For Arrian this was the time of reckoning. Should she go back to face Lord Warrick and stay with her ailing aunt? Or should she ride on, seeking assistance? But her choice had been made. There was no turning back.

With the wind whipping at her cape and her cheeks stinging from the cold, she turned the horse southward. She prayed Lord Warrick would not pursue her and hoped she would not lose her way before she could find help.

Mrs. Haddington entered the dining room with a clatter of dishes. She slammed the platter down on the table and glared at Lord Warrick.

He glanced up at her and saw the look of displeasure on her face. "Go ahead, Haddy, speak your mind. We both know I'll not have my breakfast in peace until you have told me what's bothering you."

"Well, m'lord, if you're asking me if I approve of this marriage between you and the English girl, I'd have ta say not. I've looked after you since you were a wee bairn, and I say this is wrong."

"What would you say if I told you this English lady's grandfather was the chief of the Maclvors, Haddy?"

"Then I'd say it's double reason for you not ta marry her. Everyone knows the Maclvors have tainted blood and are children of the devil."

His lips curved into a smile. "Who is everyone, Haddy?"

"Everyone's folks hereabouts."

"I have heard that most Maclvors share the same view about Drummonds, Haddy."

"There'll never be a Maclvors, born or bred, that can stand up in a fair fight with a Drummond. They dinna ken the meaning of honor." She removed his plate from the silver server and slid it before him. "You've had little enough happiness in your life. I'd see you married to the right woman before I die."

Warrick watched her pour steaming tea into his cup. "I have come to believe that happiness for me is an elusive dream. What is happiness, Haddy? You can't hold it in your hand or taste it on your lips. I will find satisfaction in knowing I have wounded Ian Maclvors and deprived him of his happiness. You see, Haddy, this lady was to be his bride."

The housekeeper's face paled. "God help us—'tis more reason to send her on her way."

"I will marry her, Haddy."

Before she could reply Tam appeared in the doorway, his young face creased with worry. "M'lord, someone came right into th' stable last night and made off with Titus."

Warrick jumped to his feet. "Are you certain he didn't break out by himself?"

"His stall gate was closed, and he couldna' done it."

"How could this have happened?"

The young boy looked befuddled. "I don't know, m'lord. With me sleeping above the stable, you'd think I'd a' heard something."

Warrick hurried out of the room with Tam keeping pace with him. "Were there tracks we can follow?"

"If there were, the snow's covered them, 'cause it came a real blow late last night."

Warrick rushed out of the house and into the stable. His saddle was missing too. He looked around for some trace left by the horse thief. He bent down and traced a small muddy boot print with his finger. It's obvious our thief is a lad or—" His eyes narrowed with speculation. "Or—a woman!"

Warrick raced back to the house and up the stairs. He threw open the door to his sister's room and saw that the bed had not been disturbed. Then he hurried down the hallway to Lady Mary's room.

He rapped on her door and, not waiting for an answer, entered to find her ladyship awake as if she had been waiting for him.

She smiled at him with satisfaction. "Yes, Lord Warrick, my niece has escaped. She is an excellent horsewoman, and you can't overtake her. She's safe from you at last."

"My God, woman, do you know what she's done? It's snowing harder now than it was the night your coach overturned. She'll lose her way and freeze to death."

Tears rolled down Lady Mary's colorless cheeks. "You left her no choice."

"My lady, I would not have harmed the girl. But now she will surely die unless she's found."

Lady Mary searched his eyes and saw only concern there. "You made impossible demands on her, and she had to get away."

"With me, she would be alive and not buried in some snowbank."

Lady Mary held out her hand to him. "You must find her, my lord. It's my fault that she is not safely with our family at this moment. I will not have her death on my hands."

Warrick felt pity for the woman. It was clear that she loved the girl and was desperate in her concern. "I'll do what I can. Have you a notion of which direction she would have taken, my lady?"

Lady Mary hesitated for only a moment. "She will be traveling south toward Aberdeen."

She watched Lord Warrick leave, feeling like a foolish old woman and wondering how she would ever explain to Kassidy and Raile that she was responsible for their beloved daughter's death. Her good intentions had ended in disaster.

The howling of the wind was a reminder of nature's fury. Arrian urged her tired mount onward in the driving snow. At last the horse stopped, and no amount of urging could make the exhausted animal move.

Dismounting, she laid her face against the horse's sleek neck and cried bitter tears. The snow had covered the road, and she was lost. Surely they would both perish.

She led the horse behind a rocky projection where she hoped to find some shelter against the wind. Shivering and cold, she patted the magnificent animal that had aided her in her escape.

The storm that had hit just before morning had now become a blinding blizzard, fierce and merciless. Since there was no sun to gauge the direction, Arrian could not even be certain that she had continued south as her aunt had instructed.

In total misery, she leaned against the horse, borrowing from his warmth and hoping to lend warmth to him at the same time. After a while her legs became numb with cold, and she sank to the ground, too weary to stand.

Arrian weakly raised her head to protest against fate. "Father, Mother, Michael, I'll never see you again," she cried. Her cry mingled with the howling sound of the wind and was lost. Now she would never know what it would be like to be Ian's wife, to have his children, to grow old with him.

With stiff fingers she pulled her cape around her and brought the hood over her head. Perhaps it was her destiny to die here in the land of the enemy.

The horse seemed only tired and not suffering from the cold. Arrian remembered her aunt explaining that the animals of the Highlands had thicker coats than those in England, to protect them from the harsher climate.

She was so weary, perhaps she would rest for only a short while and then continue her flight. Perhaps the storm would blow itself out and she would be able to find the road to Aberdeen.

*                                          *                                          *

Arrian didn't know how much time had passed when she awoke in bewilderment. She stood up slowly and cried out when she discovered that the horse had run away. Leaning her head against the boulder, she moaned in misery. Night was encroaching, and she would surely freeze. Even now her legs were so numb that she could hardly feel them as she slumped to the ground.