Page 10 of The Highlander's Dangerous Bride

“Are ye sure ye wantae flee, melady?” Ava asked, her question betraying her true anxiety. “The last time ye ran away, ye almost found yer death comin’ back,” she added.

Raven was moved by Ava’s concern for her, but she replied, “I cannae live like a prisoner in me own home any longer. Besides, there’s someone I have tae see.”

Thoughts of Thorsten growing up without her had tormented her ceaselessly for the previous three years, since leaving the babe with his father. Every fiber of her being yearned to see him, to hold him, to kiss him, to tell him she was his mother, and that she loved him. She simply could not stand being away from him anymore, no matter the risk to herself.

“This is the first chance I’ve had since comin’ back here tae save mesel’, Ava. I have tae take it, fer only the Lord kens if I’ll ever have another.”

The maid nodded, but then her eyes widened as they heard some loud clanging noises nearby. “Come, we must hide,” she whispered urgently, seizing Raven’s arm and pulling her into a clump of wind-tossed bushes. They crouched down, afraid to breathe, listening intently.

After a while, the noises faded, but they remained hidden in the bushes just in case. “Probably just somethin’ blown loose by the wind,” Ava said, taking both Raven’s hands in hers and looked intently into her eyes. “There’ll be a ship, a birlinn, under Captain Mulvaney, waiting fer ye at the shoreline. But ye need tae run away from here tae get there in time tae board it.”

“I’m sorry I couldnae take a horse from the stables fer ye—it would raise too many suspicions. So, ye’ll have tae go on foot, but at least it’ll gave ye some extra time tae get clear before they notice ye’re gone. The birlinn will take ye tae the Isle of Harris. From there, ye can catch a ferry tae the mainland.”

“Thank ye, Ava, I’m so grateful fer everythin’ ye’ve done fer me. I hope ye’ll nae get intae trouble because of me,” Raven breathed, her heart full of affection and gratitude for the maid, her only trusted friend at the castle. The two women finally stood up, the gusts melding them together for a moment as they hugged each other tightly in a final farewell.

“Dinnae worry about me,” the maid assured her, her voice starting to break. “I ken just what tae say tae fool them all. Now, ye take care of yersel’, melady. I dinnae want tae see ye back here again, eh? I hope all goes well fer ye.”

“Thank ye again, with all me heart. I’ll miss ye, Ava,” Raven said brokenly, feeling her life was always running from one place to the next. “I hope we meet again in happier times.”

“I hope so too, me lady,” the maid cried, her voice thick with tears now. “Go on, ye must run, and dinnae stop fer anythin’!”

They tore apart reluctantly, and with a last glance back at her loyal friend, Raven hoisted her bag onto her shoulder, picked up her skirts, and plunged into the darkness, heading for the shore.

She ran as fast as she could towards the sound of the crashing waves, with the bag bumping against her, finally grateful for the wind that was propelling her forwards, along a well-worn path she knew even in the darkness. She had made sure to learn every twist and turn, every rock and depression in her three years on the island. Her whole time there had been spent preparing for any chance to get away, never knowing if it would ever come. But she had never given up hope.

As the sound of the sea grew louder, the wind continued rising, and she wondered for the first time if there was going to be a storm that would prevent them from setting out to sea. Her heart dropped to think it might be so, for who would put to sea in this?

Yet she ran on, telling herself not to fear. She had come this far. If she had to, she would hide in a cave until the weather cleared and wait for another boat. There would be other passengers wishing to leave the island unseen, under cover of darkness, she supposed, and this Captain Mulvaney would surely not want to miss out on the handsome payments he was due for transporting them from the island. Would he?

At last, she came to the beach and stopped, puffing and panting with exertion. Peering through the darkness, which seemed almost alive with the wind’s frantic cavorting, she could just make out the outline of the birlinn against the mottled, gunmetal sky. The wooden ship, which looked to be about thirty feet long, was half pulled up on the beach, while the waves hurled themselves at it jealously, seeming to want to reclaim what belonged to them. The single mast stuck up like a pointing finger, its large, square sail lashed rightly against it.

The sight filled Raven with hope. Her heart beating violently, she hoisted the bag higher on her shoulder and ran towards the vessel. Finally, she found herself part of a small group of passengers waiting on the shore, all of whom were shrouded beneath their cloaks and coats. She surmised that their apparent desire to go incognito chimed with her own, and she too pulled her hood down over her face, hiding the features that almost every one of them would otherwise recognize.

Two men in oilskins were taking names and letting the passengers climb aboard, a perilous endeavor in itself due to the windy and slippery conditions. Thinking that, like herself, the other passengers must all be desperate to get off Barra if they were prepared to endure this, she willed the crew to hurry. Her heart in her throat, she waited, expecting an angry shout to come at any moment, for guards to run down and grab her, and drag her back to the castle.

Thankfully, that did not happen before she got to the front of the queue.

“Yer name, Miss?” the crewman asked, his features invisible under his hood in the darkness.

“Maeve Carter,” she said above the wind.

“All right, ye can get aboard,” he replied gruffly, jerking his head at the boat.

“There’s gonnae be a storm, is there nae?” she said anxiously. “Are we still settin’ sail?”

“Aye, ’tis still out tae sea, and the Captain thinks we can outrun it,” he replied, grudgingly handing her into the vessel.

“Thank ye. How long is it until we reach Harris?” she asked as she balanced and found her sea legs.

“Five, maybe six hours,” the man said. “It depends on this weather. Ye can sit over there,” he told her, pointing at two long wooden benches set amidships, between two rows of waiting oarsmen, twenty-four in all. The passengers were all huddling there. She joined them and made herself as comfortable as she could in the circumstances, keeping her hood low and her head down. No one spoke, and that suited her fine.

She noticed a husband and wife and their little boy, who appeared to be about five or six. He had dark hair and reminded her of Thorsten, although she knew her son was only just over three. Nevertheless, the boy stirred her maternal instincts, and her overwhelming desire to see her son burgeoned in her heart.

For so long, Thorsten had been her lodestar, her guiding light, the whole reason for her daring escapade in leaving the island in such a furtive manner. Her life without her son was so intolerable to her, he had become her sole reason for living.

Now she strongly identified with the parents’ anguish for the safety of their child, briefly allowing herself to indulge in the comforting fantasy that she and Arne, along with Thorsten, might one day be like them, a happy, loving family. Of course, she ruled out the perilous situation she presently found herself in, rather envisioning carefree times spent enjoying each other’s company. Thus, she distracted herself from her fears of the voyage to come.

Eventually, the passengers were all loaded and ready to go. Several crewmen got out and pushed the birlinn into the rolling waves before jumping nimbly aboard and going about their duties.

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