Part of him was reliving the heady ecstasy of having her in his arms once again. The feel of her body, so familiar yet so strange, was so warm and inviting, and brought back so many memories. The way her soft, warm lips had opened so willingly beneath his, her tongue entwining with his with a passion that matched his own, had inflamed his ardor even more.
His body had responded at once, a throbbing erection springing to life in his trews almost instantly. Once again, it was that which had finally made him stop and step away from her, afraid of what might happen if he did not.
He paced on, searching for honesty within himself, forcing himself to admit that he had not wanted to let Raven go. He remembered the argument they had been having, but far more vivid was the moment when it had dawned on him for sure that Raven was jealous of Muriel not only over Thorsten but also because she thought he had feelings for the nursemaid. She thought he and Muriel were lovers!
He had been astonished, and he still could not account for the burst of elation that had exploded in his chest and blinded him to all but Raven. His body had moved by instinct alone when he had seized her, held her tight, and crushed her lips with his own.
Following his own edict to be honest with himself, in order to better protect himself from the profusion of conflicting feelings Raven was invoking in him, he accepted he had been thinking about kissing for her most of the afternoon. Her allure was strong, and he chided himself for allowing her to influence him like that.
I shouldnae be thinkin’ about her like that at all. She’s married tae another man and I ken all too well she’s nae tae be trusted.
He paced for a long time before he went to bed and then tossed and turned for most of the night. The next, feeling weary and tired, day he kept busy training and catching up with things he had left unfinished before his last travel.
His work was interrupted by the arrival of a servant, who told him that Haldor was asking to see him at once in his study, on a matter of urgency.
Arne thanked the man and dismissed him, saying he would go down right away, which he did, wondering what the matter was that was so urgent. Had some communication arrived perhaps, maybe from the MacNeil’s? Or maybe from Laird Struan MacDonald, the man he was starting to hate.
“What is it, Braither?” he asked as soon as he entered the study. Haldor got up from his chair behind the vast desk and came to meet him halfway, a parchment letter with a red wax seal dangling from it in his hand.
“’Tis from Laird MacNeil,” Haldor said, “and what he says confirms Raven’s story.”
“Oh?” Arne said, curious to read what Raven’s brother had written, but also a little disappointed to hear she had been telling the truth. He took the parchment his brother handed him and began reading it.
…with great surprise and joy that I received yer letter. I write now on behalf of meself and me younger brother Maxwell. We are overjoyed to hear that our sister Raven is alive and well and under yer protection. Please accept our deepest gratitude fer letting us ken the situation and fer the hospitality and kindness ye have shown her. We havenae seen our sister fer six years, so ye’ll understand our joy when I tell ye we had feared her dead, murdered by her husband. We long since stopped believing his claim that she was still alive and that he was searchin’ fer her…
Arne broke off reading for a moment to exchange a look with Haldor. “Christ! They thought MacDonald had killed her?” he said, aghast.
Haldor nodded gravely, “Aye, it seems she was right tae be so afraid of him.”
Tendrils of guilt began to wind themselves into knots in Arne’s belly. “If her own braithers think MacDonald enough of a bastard tae have secretly murdered her and then lied tae hide the fact, what was it like bein’ married tae him?”
“Hell, I should think,” Haldor said.
“Aye, nay wonder she ran.” Unaccustomed sympathy for Raven washed over him, confusing him even further. He read on.
…me and Maxwell recall very well the time of our sister’s weddin’ tae Laird Struan MacDonald. We kent she didnae want tae be wed tae him, fer he had a reputation fer cruelty even then. We felt sorry fer her. But our faither could be cruel himself. Raven begged him to release her from the betrothal. He told her she only had value as the price of an alliance with MacDonald and locked her in her chambers until the wedding, under guard. Maxwell and I could dae naethin’ but try tae comfort her.
At first, she wrote us regularly from Barra. But then, after about a year of her bein’ wed and livin’ on Barra, the letters stopped. A short while later, our faither told us she had run away from her husband. He was furious and swore tae help MacDonald hunt her down and get her back.
He got her back eventually, and she began sending letters again, sayin’ all was well between her and Struan, that he had forgiven her fer runnin’ away. We didnae necessarily believe it, but we had nay good reason tae challenge Struan about it either. Then, four months ago, Faither died, and I took over as laird …
Arne paused once more. “So, her faither’s dead?!”
“Aye, ’tis Raven’s elder braither Everard who’s Laird MacNeil now,” Haldor replied. “I’m glad we’re dealin’ with him. The faither sounds as much of a brute as MacDonald.”
“Aye, he does,” Arne agreed, reading the rest of the letter, quite amazed at the turn the situation seemed to be taking.
…A couple of days ago, Struan and a small army arrived at our door. He claimed tae be unaware of Faither’s death, though I’d written tae him about it. It turned out Raven had escaped again, and he and his men had been out fer for her all over but hadnae found her. He cited his alliance with faither and demanded we help him find her.
We refused, sayin’ we didnae believe she was still alive, and that the alliance he had with our faither died with him…
“So, they as good as told him they thought him a murderer.”
“And now they’re locked in a dispute with MacDonald over it all, and they’re askin’ fer our help in resolvin’ it. They want tae make an alliance with us instead.”
“Jaysus! I didnae expect anythin’ like this,” Arne admitted, openly admitting his shock.
“Me neither. What d’ye think?”