The Highlander's Tempestuous Bride (13 page)

Damn
. There was much for him to do tomorrow. He couldn’t dodge weapons practice every day, and someone was bound to become suspicious if he was unavailable for hours every afternoon. He couldn’t risk coming back tomorrow. Ryan chaffed at the empty feeling stretching his insides, knotting him until he could no longer sit still.

“She is late?” Anice queried.

From his vantage point on a stone bench near her front door, he could see much of the narrow trail wending to the village, but no sign of Gilda.

He shoved at his hair in frustration. “Aye.”

Anice stepped outside. “She would be here if she could.”

“I know. It doesnae make the wait any easier.”

“Nor the disappointment.”

Ryan stared at the young woman. “Why do ye do this for us?”

Anice smiled. “Because she is my best friend, and I want her to be happy. I have seen the way ye look at her, the way she lights up when she is around ye. I believe ye could make her verra happy.”

“I love her. I dinnae know how much longer I can tolerate meeting her like this.”

Anice’s laughter bubbled. “Ye have just met her here the once.”

“Aye. And it nearly tore my heart out to leave her then.”

The young woman sobered. “Will ye take her to wife?”

“Aye. ’Tis my plan.”

“What will ye do about her da? He isnae likely to give permission.”

“I would do nothing to estrange her from her family, but if necessary, I would marry her without her father’s blessing.”
She isnae likely to receive a blessing from
my
father, either.

He searched once more down the village path and was again disappointed. With a sigh, he rose. “If she comes here, tell her I am sorry I missed her. I will send word to ye when I can return if ye think ye can get it to her.”

Anice nodded. “I will see she receives yer message.”

Ryan untied Duer from the post. Checking the cinch on his saddle, he led the horse past the cottage and into the cover of a grove of trees. He gathered the reins and placed one hand on the pommel, the other on the cantle as he prepared to mount.

“Ryan, wait!”

He whirled at the sound of Gilda’s voice in time to catch her as she hurtled into his arms. He hugged her to him, glad he had waited as long as he had. He felt her body tremble against him, and it was several moments before he realized she was crying.

* * *

Anice handed Ryan a cup of water. He nodded his thanks and offered it to Gilda. She leaned her head against his chest, cuddled in his lap, her arms wrapped around him.

Anice walked across the room, picked up her arisaid, and draped it over her shoulders. “I will fetch more water. I think I will walk all the way down to the burn.”

Closing the door softly behind her, Anice left them alone in the cottage.

Ryan set the mug on the table. “Tell me again what happened.”

Gilda took a shuddering breath. “Last night Laird Maclellan brought his son to the castle to talk to Da about a betrothal between me and Boyd. When their meeting was over, the Maclellan seemed to be neither cheerful nor angry, and Da didn’t say anything to me. I thought Da had put him off again.”

“The Maclellan had approached yer da before?”

Gilda nodded. “The night of the clan meeting. Ma said he dinnae want to talk about a betrothal because he dinnae think I was old enough to wed.”

“Something changed his mind?”

“Mayhap he realized I will be seventeen tomorrow.” She shrugged. “I dinnae know what happened. But this morning Laird Maclellan insisted I take his son for a walk through the gardens before they left. And then…”

Gilda turned her face into his chest. Ryan stroked her hair, absently fingering the wayward strands poking out of her braid.

“Da took me to his office and told me he had considered the Maclellan’s offer and it was a good match. He wanted to know what I thought.”

“And ye told him.” Ryan sighed. “Did ye not consider what his reaction would be when he discovered we had met?”

“Oh, Ryan, what will we do? He sent me to my room and I had to wait forever until he and Ma were closed in his private chamber before I could slip away. They will soon realize I am not there and come looking for me.”

“Do ye think they will come here?”

Gilda nodded her head. “Aye. I have visited Anice several times in the past week.”

“They will assume it was to meet me. We must decide what to do, and quickly.”

“I willnae marry Boyd.”

“Ye dinnae have to,
a stor
. Ye will marry me.”

“Truly?” She leaned back, tilting up her face, hope in her grey eyes. “How? When?”

“As soon as I can find a priest.” He crooked a finger beneath Gilda’s chin, bringing her gaze to his. “Do ye trust me, Gilda?”

Her eyes widened and she nodded. “I do.”

“Then come with me to Ard Castle. Marry me.”

Gilda’s face clouded and Ryan knew the implications sank in. “Ye will leave yer family. They willnae like this and mayhap will even be angry with ye. Can ye trust me to love ye through this and wait for yer parents to understand?”

For a breathless moment Ryan thought she would not do it. Then she relaxed and touched her hand to his cheek.

“
Graim thu
, Ryan.”

He took her hand and kissed it then pressed it to his heart. “As long as I live, ye will want for nothing. This I swear to ye.”

Gilda smiled and his doubts fled.

* * *

Candle flames flickered in the draft as Ranald spun about, the sweep of his plaide billowing as he paced. His footsteps pounded the floor and Riona fancied the solid rock walls shook.

“What was she thinking?” His low voice growled the much-asked question, and Riona sighed.

“She wasnae purposefully disobeying. Ye hadnae told her not to speak to the Macraig’s son.”

“She should know better. There is no alliance between our clans.”

“Aye. But there is no feud, either.”

Ranald shot her a furious look.
There is now
.

Riona left her seat and crossed the room to stand before her husband. She placed the palm of one hand gently against his chest and looked into his stormy eyes. Slowly, she fingered the length of plaide draped across his chest until she felt some of the tension leave him.

“Did ye really want Gilda to marry the Maclellan lad?”

Ranald narrowed his eyes. “His clan is powerful.”

Riona raised her eyebrows, but said nothing.

“The Maclellans have been staunch allies.”

This time Riona tilted her head.

“Damn it, Ree, I am new at this. I wouldnae marry her to the first man who offered for her. But it was an honorable proposal.”

“But ye dinnae expect her to fancy herself in love with a young man ye consider the least suitable for her, either.”

“Laird Macraig is not a good man. As overbearing as the Maclellan is, at least he is respectable.” Ranald stroked the back of his hand down her cheek. Riona leaned into the caress. “Macraig insulted ye and Gilda both with his marriage proposal.”

Riona nodded once. “’Twas years ago.”

“The man still holds a grudge.”

“’Tis apparent his son doesnae.”

Ranald’s hands cupped her face, tilting it to his. Eyes the color of the sea at night stared back at her. She leaned up on her toes and pressed a kiss against his lips. Tension of a different sort hummed through him now, and Riona wound her arms about his neck.

“I sent Finlay to retrieve Gilda from her room,” Ranald murmured against her lips. “Mayhap we could explore this more fully later?”

The chamber door burst open behind them. Finlay’s face was pale and strained.

“Gilda is gone!”

* * *

The first raindrops fell before they reached the edge of the forest. Gilda stopped and pulled the edge of her arisaid over her head. Thunder rumbled and Gilda grabbed at Ryan’s outstretched hand as though she were drowning.

He urged, “Can ye make it?”

The old childhood fear clutched her as lightning flashed in the distance, but Gilda nodded bravely, her throat too dry to speak.

“We will mount up now we are out of sight of the village. ’Tis over two hours of hard riding to Ard Castle from here, and with us both on Duer’s back, ’twill take longer.”

Ryan’s warhorse was much larger than Gilda’s dainty mare, and Ryan’s hand splayed against her bottom as he boosted her into the saddle. Heat slid through her, overriding her fear of the storm. Before she could remark it, Ryan was behind her, urging Duer on.

Water slid down the leaves and dripped off the edge of Gilda’s arisaid. Warmth from Ryan’s arms around her helped, but the cold, driving rain soon saturated her cloak and seeped through her gown. She shivered and clenched her teeth to keep them from chattering, wishing they could travel faster than the slow pace the storm demanded.

Duer reared in fright as lightning flashed with a loud crack of thunder. A nearby tree toppled, crashing through the underbrush with a great swoosh of sound. The acrid odor of smoke filled the air. Ryan’s arms tightened around Gilda.

He soothed the big horse, but did not send him forward. Gilda peered into the storm-fed gloaming. A small red glow lit nearby, evidence of the lightning strike.

“The rain will put out the fire, but we need to find shelter.” Though he spoke into her ear, Ryan raised his voice to be heard over the deluge. Gilda grasped her arisaid close around her and nodded. She was cold and wet and frightened. This was not how she had envisioned starting her life with Ryan.

“Where is that cave?”

Taking a moment to get her bearings, Gilda blinked through the rivulets of water streaking her face. She pointed to their right, her directions leading them to the shallow cavern they had sheltered in more than a sennight ago. Ryan swung down, lifting his arms to help her dismount.

“I will tie Duer. Get inside.”

Gilda brushed aside the heavy branches covering the entrance to the cave. A musky odor assaulted her and she hesitated. Listening intently, she gave her eyes time to adjust to the darkness, but could detect nothing in the gloom save a couple of large rocks. The wind howled, driving Gilda inside. She stood just beyond the opening, hesitant to go deeper.

“Is anything wrong?”

Gilda jumped at the sound of Ryan’s voice. Her hand shot out, fumbling for his. His fingers twined with hers and she felt immediate relief.

“It smells like a wild animal has been here.” Ryan took a step further. “I dinnae see anything now. Sit here. I will find some dry wood for a wee bit of warmth.”

The dusty rock floor was dry, but cool, and Gilda gathered her skirts and arisaid beneath her to cushion her against its chill. Sounds of the storm echoed eerily around the cave, and Gilda focused on Ryan gathering bits of bracken and limbs in the mouth of the cave, which had avoided most of the rain. He reached inside his sporran and pulled out a tiny handful of delicate tinder, then piled the smallest twigs around it on the floor near the cave’s opening.

“Some of this is still a bit green and may smoke, but it will hopefully drift outside.” He produced a bit of flint and steel and within moments, a small flame licked hungrily at the wood.

“I will be back in a moment.” On his promise, he disappeared through the entrance. Gilda scooted close to the small fire and stretched her hands to its meager warmth. Encouraged by the heat, she shrugged out of her arisaid and unlaced her sodden gown. She stripped to her shift and spread her gown over a small boulder to one side of the cave. Hurrying back to the fire, she huddled close, carefully feeding it small, dry twigs.

She looked up as Ryan entered the cave, his arms laden with firewood. He pulled up short and Gilda smothered a smile at the startled look on his face.

“I am warmer without the wet clothes.”

She thought he replied, “Me, too,” but he’d turned away to stack the wood on the floor.

He indicated one of the piles. “I found some of this beneath an old, rotted log. It is fairly dry, and the rest will dry enough to burn in time.”

Ryan pivoted slowly and Gilda’s heart fluttered at the hunger in his eyes. He shuddered.

“Are ye cold?” she asked worriedly.

His lips twitched, but his voice was solemn. “Nae, Gilda. But I wish we had consulted a priest before we fled the village. I dinnae expect to encounter a woodland faerie on my way home.”

Gilda was at a loss at what to say, unaccustomed to the banter between men and women. Yet his words warmed her better than any wood-stoked fire. Memories of the way her ma and da touched, the way their eyes lit when they entered a room to find the other there, raced through her mind.

Here was the same look on Ryan’s face as he stood silent, watchful. It occurred to her he awaited her answer.

“I am not a woodland faerie, but I will soon be yer wife,” she whispered.

His eyes darkened and his breathing deepened, but he made no move toward her. “I will wait ’til then,
a stor
, if it is yer wish.”

Unsure of all he meant, Gilda did know if he stayed where he was, he would not be able to kiss her. She felt the absence of his arms around her like a physical ache. If he would simply hold her, kiss her…but no, there was something different, deeper, more elemental, exciting. Her skin tingled and her breasts swelled against the confines of her thin shift. She glanced down and saw her nipples clearly outlined through the damp cloth. Embarrassed, she lifted her gaze and saw Ryan eying them as well.

“Ogling me again?” she whispered.

“As often as I can.” Ryan’s voice was hoarse and the sound sent a shiver down her spine.

“Will ye come sit with me?”

“Gilda,
a stor
, I cannot be that close to ye and not touch ye. Ye have promised to be mine, but we havenae the vows between us.”

Silence stretched as the wind tossed the storm outside to new heights.

“We could make our own vows.” The words trembled on her tongue.

Ryan skirted the small fire and knelt beside her. He took one of her hands in his and brought it to his cheek.

“Gilda Macrory,
thabharfainn fuil mo chroí duit
.”
I give you the blood of my heart.