The Highlander's Forbidden Bride (15 page)

“C
arissa, wait,” Ronan said, hurrying after her.

She stopped a few feet from her cottage and swung around.

Ronan took a step back and held up his hands. “You could kill me with that look.”

“Don’t tempt me. How could—”

“I’m sorry,” he said before she could finish.

She stared at him befuddled.

He approached her cautiously, though confused that she should appear so surprised by his apology. “I was wrong.”

She took a step away from him and shook her head.

He had to smile at her bewilderment. “Hasn’t anyone ever apologized to you?”

“No.”

She said it with such blunt honesty that it startled him. “Never?”

“Never,” she repeated.

He reached out and took hold of her hand to draw her near. “Then hear me well, for though this may
be the first, I am certain it will not be the last time I apologize to you. I am sorry for not defending you against my brother, and I am sorry I did not greet you immediately when you entered the hall.”

She drifted into his arms. “Why didn’t you?”

“You looked at me so strangely, as if you didn’t know me, and for a moment I thought perhaps—”

“That I was what your brother claimed…a barbarian who cannot be trusted?”

He shook his head. “No, that you changed your mind and didn’t love me.”

She sighed and rested her head to his chest. Looking up at him, she said, “When I saw you dressed in your plaid, I realized that you were a Highlander, and I was…”

He lowered his lips to hers, and before he kissed her, he whispered, “The woman I love.”

The kiss left her head spinning, and she had to shake it to clear it. “You love Hope.”

“You are Hope.”

She shook her head again. “I am Carissa, daughter of Mordrac the Barbarian and your enemy.”

He slipped his hand inside her cloak, then beneath her blouse, until it rested over her heart. “Your heart is too kind to be a barbarian or my enemy.”

“I want to trust you, believe you, but—”

He smiled. “My brother feels the same about you and warns me that you only pretended to be Hope for your own selfish purposes. He forbids me from sleeping with you until we see if you are with child, and if not, you can then be judged.”

“Your brother truly hates me.”

He heard the regret in her voice. “He only knows Carissa.”

She pulled away from him. “I am Carissa.”

“No, you are Hope,” he insisted, and reached out to take hold of her. But she moved away.

“Look at me, Ronan. I am Carissa, daughter to Mordrac your enemy, leader of the mercenaries, hated by most,” she said, and took a fortifying breath before continuing. “That is what people see when they look at me, as much as I want it not to be that way, it is. It will never change. They have nothing but contempt for me.”

He could see how the weight of her words hung heavy on her shoulders, and he wanted to comfort her, but he knew she needed much more than comfort. She needed him to accept her as Carissa and for a brief moment…

She smiled, though sadness filled her eyes, and she shook her head. “I can see it in your eyes. You can easily love Hope, but you don’t know if you can easily love Carissa.”

He stepped forward.

“No,” she said firmly. “Your brother is right. It is best we keep our distance, and if I am not with child then…”

“I’m not going to lose you,” he said adamantly.

“You never had me,” she said, pounding her chest. “I am Carissa, not Hope. Carissa, do you hear?
Carissa.
”

He reached out, but she turned away and hurried inside the cottage, slamming the door behind her.
He stood staring at the door. How was he going to make this right for them both? How was he going to reconcile Carissa and Hope? That he loved this woman was not the question. It was defining the woman that was the problem.

He was about to turn and walk away when the door creaked opened.

“My clothes?” she asked, peering out. “You never brought them with you?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t,” he said, glad he had forewarned her that his first apology certainly wouldn’t be his last.

Before she closed the door, he said, “I’ll see about getting you fresh garments.”

“I would appreciate it.”

“Would you like a bath?” he asked. “I had one this morning.”

She smiled. “I would love one.”

“I’ll arrange that too.”

“Thank you,” she said, and closed the door.

He went to see to both, then suddenly stopped, a thought hitting him. If she had left her clothes behind, then that meant she had planned on returning. He smiled broadly and rubbed his hands together, finally realizing that he had never grabbed his cloak and was cold. With a hasty step, he hurried to the keep.

“Damn,” Carissa said, plopping down on the narrow bed in the cottage. Just this morning, when she woke in Ronan’s arms, for a brief time, she had thought that there would be many similar morn
ings to follow. Then, in an instant, her hopes and dreams were gone.

She knew she had asked for just one night of love with him, but having sampled it, she realized she wanted more, so much more.

“Idiot,” she scolded herself, and fell back on the bed. “He’s a Highlander, and that was clearly defined for you when you saw him in his plaid.”

She sighed. He looked so good, so handsome, and so courageous. And then he apologized. No one had ever apologized to her, not ever. It had shocked her to hear him say it, and he went and said it again in regards to her clothes.

“Damn,” she repeated. “Why couldn’t he simply love
me
?”

No one loves you, Carissa. Remember that, no one.

Her father had repeatedly reminded her of that, yet somehow she had managed to hold on to the hope that she’d be loved. She always believed that her mother had instilled that hope in her. Even though her mother was just a slim shadow in her memory, she believed that it was because of her love that she was able to survive her father’s cruelty.

There was a knock at the door, and she jumped off the bed, thinking that perhaps Ronan had returned. But Dykar stood there, and he didn’t look happy.

“Septimus needs to speak with you.”

She grabbed her cloak and ordered Dykar to leave first. She would meet him in one of the designated spots they had agreed upon once she was certain no one followed her.

She smiled, for her it would be simple to sneak off. She had learned how when she was young and had sharpened her skill through the years. She’d have no trouble slipping out of sight of the guards. Of course, there was always a chance of being caught, and there would be consequences to face, but there was no point in concerning herself with something that might never be. She needed to see to this matter, then…

She prayed that bath would be ready.

Ronan rejoined his family, taking part in the morning meal, and realized that a decisive tension filled the air. Conversation was limited, and it was obvious that the laird and his wife were not on good speaking terms, since Honora got up in the middle of the meal and left.

Cavan followed shortly after, and the others took their leave one by one to see to their respective tasks until only he, his mother, and Hagen remained.

Ronan turned to the one woman he had and would always trust, and who he could count on always to be honest with him.

“What do you think of Carissa?” he asked Addie.

“I would like time to get to know her,” Addie replied.

“She’s an excellent cook,” Ronan said with pride.

“That she is,” Hagen agreed with a grin.

Addie frowned and shook her head.

“You don’t like her?” Ronan asked, upset.

“It isn’t that,” Addie said, and thought a moment. “There’s something alarmingly familiar about her, and I can’t place what it is.”

“How could that be? You’ve never met her,” Ronan said.

“True, but I feel as if I have,” his mother said with a confused shake of her head.

“She may remind you of someone,” Hagen suggested.

“The question is who?” Addie tapped her head as if trying to force the answer.

Hagen took hold of her hand. “We will go for a walk and talk about it and see what sparks your memory.”

Ronan’s shoulders slumped. He wanted to speak with his mother, but he didn’t want to keep her from what appeared to be the man she adored. He was glad for her, but he needed her at that moment.

Addie slipped her hand from Hagen’s and patted his face. “We will take a walk later. Right now I’d like to speak with my son.”

Hagen nodded. “Just let me know when you’re ready.”

Addie leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”

She turned to Ronan when the door closed behind Hagen. “I never thought I would love again after losing your father. I didn’t think it was possible. I loved your father so very much, I could never
imagine loving another with the same intensity.”

Ronan remained silent, listening.

“Then Hagen smiled at me.” She laughed. “Can you imagine, just a smile and I felt something in my heart flutter. He is different from your father, and yet…” She shook her head. “I found myself falling in love with him.” She laughed again. “He’s a gentle giant, where your father was much like Cavan.” She took her son’s hand. “We can’t dictate love. We can’t ignore it. We can’t beg for it. But we can recognize it and embrace it when it finds us, no matter how crazy it may seem.”

Ronan hugged his mother’s hand. “I do feel crazy. How does one fall in love with one’s enemy?”

“How
did
you fall in love with her?’

Ronan told his mother all about it. From the very first time he had met Hope to his discovery of the true possibility that Carissa and Hope were one and the same, to his utter confusion and utter hope that the matter would somehow miraculously resolve itself.

“Perhaps the question you need to ask is,” his mother said, “is Carissa truly your enemy?”

“That is the way I have thought of her for the last two years. And it is the way Cavan continues to think of her.”

“You and Cavan are no longer captives. You are home in the safety and love of your family. Think as you wish and reach your own conclusion. It is what your family expects of you, as does your laird.”

He took her hand. “Somehow you always manage to make it seem as though things will go well.”

“And you,” she said proudly, “somehow always managed miraculously to solve your problems.” She smiled. “You not only need to know who Carissa is, you need to remember who you are.”

C
arissa couldn’t believe what Septimus was telling her. Cregan, a warrior whose heritage was in dispute, as some believed he came from nobility while others believed him no more than a bastard, had surfaced once again. Cregan had battled on her father’s side on occasion, though remained far removed from the battle with the Sinclares. She had known that some of her father’s warriors had fled to Cregan’s stronghold following Mordrac’s defeat, while others had left beforehand, having lost confidence and respect for their leader.

“You’re telling me that in these past two years, he has been building his fighting force?”

“It seems that way,” Septimus said, warming his hands by the campfire flames. “And he’s on the move.”

“How has he managed to build such a force with no one hearing about it?” Dykar asked.

“He resides on the fringes of the northernmost regions of the Orkney Islands, an isolated area and not an easy place to live or to reach. It would take time for news of his activities to reach here; and
then only if word was sent from the inhabitants themselves,” Carissa said.

“Which means Cregan has purposely sent word that he’s headed this way,” Dykar said.

“I don’t like this,” Carissa said.

“There’s more,” Septimus said reluctantly.

“What is it that you’ve obviously been hesitant to tell me?” Carissa asked.

Septimus rubbed his hands together and peered across the flames at Carissa. “It’s rumored that Cregan comes for
you.
”

She snapped her head back as if she’d been slapped. “Why?”

Septimus explained. “From what I’ve learned, it seems that your father had made plans for you and Cregan to wed. And Cregan plans to claim his intended.”

Carissa could only shake her head. She had worried that the time would come that her father would choose a mate for her, with no consideration to what she wished. She couldn’t believe that her father reached from beyond the grave to continue to command her life. And to a man who in many ways was similar to him.

“How did you come by this information?” Carissa asked.

“One of Cregan’s men appeared at our camp seeking protection,” Septimus said. “It seems that he doesn’t want to remain part of Cregan’s group any longer.”

“Or as I’ve said”—Dykar nodded—“Cregan sent someone.”

“And I suppose this man acts as if he doesn’t know that I lead the group,” Carissa said. “That he believes you simply a strong group of mercenaries.”

“It appears that way, but, like Dykar, I don’t believe him,” Septimus was quick to say.

“Are Evan and Piper still with you?” Carissa asked.

Septimus nodded. “Yes, they plan to visit with Alyce and Lachlan before they return home.”

“See if they would be willing to scout for us before they go, and explain how they must keep it a secret,” Carissa instructed. “And send some of our men out to see what they can discover.”

“Are you going to discuss this matter with Ronan?” Dykar asked.

Carissa gave his question thought. If she confided in Ronan, she could very well place his life and his family’s lives in danger. Cregan was after her, and if anything, he wasn’t stupid. While he might have amassed a small army, she didn’t believe his intention was to defeat the Sinclares though that didn’t mean that one of them wouldn’t be caught in the conflict. Undoubtedly, he sent someone, or more than one person ahead to find out where and how accessible she was. Only then would he decide on a plan of action. Thus it gave her time to wade through this mess and decide on her own course of action.

“Time will tell whether I do or not,” Carissa answered. “I need to know more about Cregan’s whereabouts before I share any information with
the Sinclares. With that said, it is best we return. I have been gone long enough.”

Dykar agreed, and Septimus promised to let them know when he heard anything new.

The guard that had followed her to the stable and saw that she intended to see to her horse’s care was still outside talking with two of his friends. She was grateful her absence had not been noticed, but then she had kept her time with Septimus short though she had wished for more. Cregan was not a man to dismiss lightly, and she would have preferred to linger and discuss possible scenarios that Cregan might consider and their options in preventing them.

She did wish that she could confide in Ronan, but presently she wasn’t sure if that was the wisest decision. She didn’t wish to place anyone in any danger, though danger lurked either way. It was just that until she knew more, she felt it was best she say nothing. And at the moment, she wanted nothing more than to steep in a tub of hot water and wash her weariness and worries away.

The guard followed her to her cottage, and when she entered, she was disappointed to see that no bath awaited her. Frustrated and tired, she reluctantly left the cottage and went to the keep.

Addie was the only one in the great hall and she hurried off the bench and walked over to Carissa. “I’ve been waiting for you. Ronan asked me to see to a bath and some clean clothes for you.”

“I would truly appreciate both,” Carissa said sincerely.

“Follow me,” Addie said.

Carissa couldn’t help but notice the odd way Addie looked at her. She wasn’t certain if the woman was trying to peer deeper into her or if she struggled to keep her hatred from showing and her mouth from speaking. She continued to wonder over it though she made no comment.

She was surprised when Addie took her to Ronan’s room. A tub waited and was soon being filled by a bevy of servants. A dark blue wool dress gathered beneath the breast with light blue ribbon lay on the bed waiting for her. It was lovely and reminded her of gowns she once wore and a life she once lived, but now she preferred simpler garments, a simpler life.

Carissa would not disrobe in front of any of them, and so she waited for the servants to leave. When they finally did, and Addie was just about to, she turned to her and asked, “You treat me so kindly, and yet you look at me as if…” Carissa shook her head. “I can’t define it, I just know there is something there you wish to say, and I prefer you say it.”

“You are a puzzle to me, dear,” Addie said walking over to her. “And I will admit that it is all because Ronan has fallen in love with you. At least he believes it is you he loves. Before that, I would have believed you like your father, heartless and selfish, but if my son thinks otherwise of you, then I must learn for myself what it is he sees that others don’t, or haven’t been allowed to.”

Carissa raised her head proudly. “I am who you see standing here.”

Addie smiled. “What we see in front of us isn’t always the truth of things.” Addie laughed. “Take Hagen. He’s a large man, tall and broad who at first glance could frighten the devil out of you and yet—”

“He is the kindest of souls and his speech more articulate than one would expect,” Carissa finished.

“So then he isn’t what he appears to be, and I daresay my son saw the same in you.”

“Ronan hates Carissa,” she said sadly.

“He doesn’t know Carissa, nor do I,” Addie said. “Therefore, I must get to know you before I am to judge you. And the reason I stare so oddly at you?” She shook her head. “You look startlingly familiar to me and yet I—” She continued shaking her head. “I cannot recall where it is I could have seen you.”

“I doubt you have seen me anywhere. My father kept me cloistered as much as possible.”

That got Addie to stop shaking her head and instead laughing. “If you were like most children, you would have found a way to sneak off on your own.”

Carissa grinned. “I did, and I had the best adventures.”

“Then you and Ronan have something in common, for he did the same when he was young.”

“But he had brothers to share it with.”

“Not all the time,” Addie said. “He often sneaked off on his own, to have his own adventures. He
would return and confide his secret endeavors, and I, in turn, would keep them secret.”

“As you do now with what he has confided to you about me?” Carissa asked.

Addie nodded. “Why don’t you tell me why you love my son?”

“You believe I love your son?”

“At times I catch a glimpse of it in your eyes,” Addie said, “though you try hard to hide it. Tell me how you fell in love with my son.”

With that Addie began to help Carissa undress, and Carissa didn’t protest. She felt the need to tell this woman, the mother of the man she loved, just how she had so unexpectedly fallen in love with her enemy.

“He was hurt and frightened,” Carissa began, “and he reached out to me, not knowing who I was, not judging me, simply needing someone to hold on to. I empathized with him since I often felt the same myself. From there it was easy to pretend I wasn’t Mordrac’s daughter, and the more I got to know Ronan, the more my heart went out to him.

“I was accustomed to demanding, domineering men; never had I known a man to reach out to me in need, to be vulnerable and yet so brave.” Carissa shook her head. “It sounds strange that a needy man could be brave.”

“As I said, what we see isn’t always what is.”

“Ronan is like no man I have ever known,” Carissa admitted. “He may have hated Carissa and wanted her dead. But when he did finally capture
her, his intentions were to see that she was treated fairly and presented before his laird for judgment. Unlike my father, whose judgment often came swiftly at the end of a sword.”

Their conversation twisted and turned in many directions, and it wasn’t near to ending by the time Carissa stepped from the bath. But after a preponderance of yawns, Addie insisted she nap.

Carissa didn’t argue; she felt tired down to her very bones, and she wanted nothing more than to sleep.

Addie tucked her in Ronan’s bed, and while Carissa knew she should have protested and returned to her appointed cottage, she was simply too tired. She would nap and be gone before Ronan, or—heaven forbid—Cavan, knew she rested in this bed.

The last thing she heard as her eyes closed and sleep claimed her was the click of the closing door as Addie took her leave.

Ronan couldn’t believe that he had three nephews and a niece. The little fellow, the one twin who was his namesake, had a similar nature to his own. And the one named for Ronan’s father, Tavish, was as temperamental as
his
namesake. And at two years old, the little lads appeared inseparable, one always looking to see where the other was and both enamored of their mother.

Blythe, Artair and Zia’s daughter, was a little beauty, with a sweet smile that could charm the coldest heart. Over a year old, though with the con
fidence of one much older, she eagerly climbed onto his lap and into his arms when he reached down for her, and her vibrant green eyes startled, since it seemed that she could see right inside you.

Then there was Roark, Lachlan and Alyce’s son, who was yet to turn one, though he made himself known with his broad smile that so reminded Ronan of Lachlan. However, he seemed to have his mother’s strategic mind, for his eyes followed everyone, he knew what each was up to, waving frantically at the twins when one crept up on the other, and he was alert to when someone left the room.

This was his new family, and he hoped with all his heart that Carissa carried his child and that their child could not only join this happy clan but unite enemies.

Ronan was as disappointed as the children when naptime was declared by the mothers, though when his mother advised him that Carissa was presently napping peacefully in his room after a soothing bath, he hastily took his leave.

While he could have joined his brothers, who were in Cavan’s solar discussing clan matters, he much preferred to join Carissa. He was well aware of Cavan’s warning about keeping his distance from Carissa, but he was only going to check on her, or so he told himself.

The door opened with a creak, and he winced, not wanting to wake her. He knew she must be tired, having woken before dawn, then having to deal with his brother and him. It was good she
rested, though damned if he didn’t want to rest alongside her.

He took careful steps over to the bed. She was lying naked on her side beneath the covers, one slim leg resting on top of the blanket, her arm exposed as well, and her lovely breast peeking out from the covers.

Naturally, he reacted as any man in love would. He grew hard as a rock.

He warned himself to take his leave, get out of there right away, run if he had to, but get his legs moving. His feet refused to budge. It was as if he were stuck to the floor and his glance stuck on her.

He ached to make love to her once again. One time just was not enough, he wanted more. He wanted to hold her, kiss her, love her, lose himself in her and hear her moan with the pleasure he brought her.

His passion spiked even more, and he moaned in discomfort and had to fight to keep himself from stripping naked and rushing to her side. One taste of her had him starving for more, and he was having a difficult time denying himself and her, for he doubted she would turn him down.

He finally got his feet moving, though not toward the door—the wiser direction. He walked to the bed and stopped next to it, staring down at her. She sighed and turned, the blanket slipping farther off her and fully exposing one breast as she stretched her arm up above her head.

Her gentle movement also gave a peek at the
blond hair that nestled between her legs. It fired his loins even more, more so than if she had lain fully exposed, since the slight peek tempted and teased him beyond reason.

He should pay heed to his brother’s command and allow Carissa and him time to learn more about each other. They needed to reach a reasonable solution to their dilemma, and being intimate right now would not be the wisest thing. He couldn’t be selfish and think only of himself. He had to think of Carissa and what his self-indulgent actions would do to her.

If she didn’t deny him, as he knew she wouldn’t, it would appear to his brother that she was having her way of things, winning the battle Cavan believed she waged. It was only proving to his brother, and he supposed to himself, that she played no ruse, that her nature was of hope, not cruelty.