Page 27 of The Highlander's Dangerous Bride

She had been provided with a sturdy brown mare for the journey, and she petted the horse before tying her baggage to the back of the saddle. She had placed her foot in the stirrup and was about to mount when she gasped to feel two large, warm hands suddenly span her waist. She was suddenly lifted into the saddle without any effort on her part.

“Thank ye,” she said, looking down at Arne, surprised he had thought to offer her assistance. But he said nothing, and his face was closed, so she could not glean what he was thinking nor what his motives might be. He stowed his gear in his saddlebags and, with a bit of a leg up from the groom, was soon in the saddle. He tipped the groom a few coins, jerked his chin at Raven, and they set off on their journey to Castle MacLeod in silence.

Raven was excited at the prospect of seeing Thorsten, but she was also nervous at the thought of meeting his family. She decided to try to get him to talk about them, so she would know more about the reception she could expect.

“I suppose yer family hate me as well,” she said. He grunted in response, and she took that to be a yes. Her heart sank a little, but she kept her spirits up by thinking of Thorsten. They could hate her all they liked as long as she could see him.

“Tell me again, which of yer braithers lives at the castle?”

“The laird and his lady, that’s Haldor and Sofia, and me younger braither Ivar and his wife Catalina. Our sister Dahlia is married tae Laird MacKinnon, so she lives in MacKinnon lands now, but they visit often. That’s it.”

“De ye think they’ll be angry tae see I’ve returned?”

He shrugged noncommittally and replied, “I’ve nae idea. Ye’ll just have tae wait and see, I suppose.”

“Aye, I suppose,” she said, hating the strained atmosphere between them. However, she felt she deserved nothing less for what she had done.

The journey continued mostly in silence until they finally reached the castle. As they rode through the gates and into the courtyard, Raven glanced at the very spot where she had left Thorsten by the gates over three years before, wrapped in blankets, along with the letter for Arne telling him why she had to leave. The memory was like a knife in her heart.

But I’m back now, and I’m gonnae see him again very soon, if Arne daesnae change his mind.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

They dismounted and were relieved of their horses by grooms, who exchanged hearty greetings with Arne. Raven could see he had been much missed.

“This way,” Arne said, limping ahead of her towards the doors of the mighty stone castle keep. The guards on duty at the door stood aside to let them pass, smiling at Arne and telling him how pleased they were to see him back safe. Raven received curious looks from them as she followed him inside.

She found herself standing in a large, wainscoted vestibule, its walls and corners crammed with all sorts of clan memorabilia. It felt so strange to actually be standing there, inside the castle she had heard so much about—the place she had never set foot in before but was her son’s home.

She looked around the unfamiliar surroundings while her outer clothing was handed over to servants, and a horde of butterflies took off in her stomach as she wondered where Thorsten was and when she would see him. But Arne insisted on introductions first, so she steeled herself for the worst.

“Sterling, where’s the laird?” He asked a rather portly steward with a florid complexion who was supervising the other servants.

“In his study, I believe,” said Sterling, eyeing her with frank curiosity. “Shall I go and see if he’s free?”

“Nay, he willnae mind me interruptin’, I’m sure.” He turned to Raven and said, “Come on.” He set off down the broad hallway to their left, leaving Raven to follow behind. She was so filled with nervous anticipation; she hardly took in the numerous tapestries and paintings lining the walls.

About halfway down the hallway, Arne halted them outside a closed door and rapped briskly upon it.

“Come in,” said a deep, raspy voice from the other side, but the words were hardly out before Arne opened the door and went inside. Raven trailed nervously after him. He leaned above her to shut the door behind them.

“Braither! ’Tis grand tae see ye back at last,” said the raspy voice, which Raven saw belonged to a man who had sprung up from behind a huge carved desk and was now approaching them in long strides.

This she knew was Haldor, the Laird of the MacLeod clan, also known as the Viking Laird. And he certainly resembled one of those intrepid forebears of the family. He stood a little taller than Arne and was equally broad and powerfully built. Raven thought he had the look of a man who had fought many battles and won them all.

His face was hard yet handsome at the same time, and she could glimpse the resemblance to Arne in his sculpted, angular features and the network of silvery scars marking his cheeks and forehead. His hair was perhaps the most immediately arresting thing about him, for it was so fair as to be almost white, and he wore it long, with thin plaits at the front. His silvery blue eyes glittered in the pale winter sunlight seeping in through the high windows of the study. The Viking Laird of Harris, Thorsten’s uncle, was an intimidating figure to be sure.

“Aye, I’m back at last,” Arne said as his brother came up to him and embraced him, clapping him heartily on the back, his grin softening his hard features. As he did so, Raven felt his eyes rake over her, and she shivered slightly with apprehension, fearing the laird’s reaction when he found out who she was.

“What took ye so bloody long?” Haldor asked his brother, standing back and examining him closely, his hands resting on Arne’s shoulders.

Arne glanced at her and said, “’Tis a bit of a long story.”

“And who’s this ye’ve brought with ye?” Haldor’s luminous eyes settled on Raven, and she could see the curiosity in them. He smiled at her in a friendly fashion, but it did nothing to ease her nerves.

Arne took a deep breath and began, “Well, ye’ll nae believe me when I tell ye that this is—” but he was interrupted by a loud knock at the door.

Haldor’s smile faded, and he frowned as he went to the door and opened it. “Aye, what is it?” he asked of whoever was outside. Raven thought she recognized the tones of the steward Sterling.

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