Page 28 of The Highlander's Dangerous Bride

“Who?” Haldor suddenly demanded. The muffled answer came. “All right, ye’d better show them in.” He shut the door and came back over to Arne, saying, “There’s a scout and a messenger here claimin’ tae be from Clan MacDonald. They’re askin’ tae speak tae me about a private matter.”

No sooner had the name left his lips than Raven plunged into a state of complete panic. She clutched Arne arm and tugged at it. “I need tae hide right away before they see me.” The men watched her with amazed expressions as she suddenly began scurrying about, clearly looking for somewhere at hide.

“What the hell are ye doin’?” Arne asked, his face a picture of confusion.

“There’s nae time tae explain now. I need tae hide!” She opened the door to a large cabinet, squeezed herself inside, and pulled the door shut behind her. She sat there, hunched uncomfortably in the stuffy dark, trembling with terror, listening intently as the men from the MacDonald clan were shown into the study. Even though her heart was thumping loudly in her ears, she could hear every word being said perfectly clearly.

It was just as it had been at the house of pleasure three years ago, when the riders had come and started questioning Morag and the courtesans about her.

“I must say, this visit is unexpected,” Haldor said. “McDonalds, ye say? What brings ye here tae me lands?”

“We’re lookin’ fer a lassie,” one of the men replied, and Raven shivered, sure she recognized the voice as belonging to the head rider who had been at the pleasure house looking for her on the night she’d had to run and abandon Thorsten to his father. “Her name is Lady Raven MacDonald, but she’s likely usin’ an alias.”

“Oh? What has that tae dae with me and me clan?” Haldor asked.

“She has a husband at home, waitin’ fer her return. He’s employed us tae find her, and our enquires have led us here.”

“How exactly?” Haldor asked. Raven could only imagine what Arne was thinking now he had heard she was married to a MacDonald and on the run from her husband. Dread swept over her like a wave, for she was certain that in his fury, he was going to wrench open the cupboard door at any moment and deliver her up to her would-be captors.

“An informant told us that a young woman fitting her description was saved from the wreck by a man identified as the Viking Laird’s braither. The rumors are that she’s been brought here tae the castle,” the head rider said.

“Well, I ken naethin’ about it. This is me braither Arne. Arne, d’ye ken anythin’ about this lassie they’re talking about?”

“I’ve nae idea. But I did help with saving some of the folks from the shipwreck. What does the lassie look like?” Arne replied. Realizing he was not going to give her away, Raven breathed a silent sight of relief, and her heart warmed towards him in gratitude. Briefly, she wondered why he was protecting her.

But at almost the same moment, she realized with horror that part of the hem of her dress was caught in the cupboard door. It would be visible to anyone on the outside who noticed it! She tried gently to pull on it, but it would not budge. She just had to pray that neither of the two MacDonald men would notice.

“She’s in her early twenties, average height, slender build, pale complexion, long black hair, and light brown eyes,” the MacDonald man said.

“Did ye see anyone like that when ye were helpin’ with the wreck?” Haldor asked.

“Nay. She sounds a bonnie lass though. I’m certain I’d nae forget her if I’d seen her,” Arne replied, his voice all innocence as he brazenly lied for her. But the compliment went unnoticed by the terrified Raven.

“It seems like yer informant is mistaken or just tryin’ tae make some money out of ye by misleadin’ ye. But I’m willin’ tae keep an eye out fer this lassie if ye like. Who’s this husband whose chasin’ her? Give me his name, and if she turns up here, I’ll write tae inform him.”

It was no surprise to Raven when the man replied, “I’m afraid I cannae divulge that, but ye can leave a note at the inn. It’ll be forwarded tae me. Me name’s Jed Kirkwood.”

“Very well, Jed Kirkwood. I’ll be sure tae dae that. Now, if ye dinnae mind, ye caught me in the middle of some business. I’ll have ye shown out.”

Raven heard the study door open and Haldor call for a servant. She prayed her ordeal would soon be over. She could hardly breathe.

“Thank ye, Laird MacLeod,” she heard Kirkwood say as the men started to leave. But all of a sudden, she heard childish laughter and the sound of small feet running into the room.

“Dada, ye’re back!” the child yelled excitedly.

Thorsten! ’Tis Thorsten!

Stuck inside the cupboard, barely daring to breathe, Raven felt her heart breaking. It felt as though a hand had reached inside her chest and gripped her heart, squeezing it like a vice. Hot tears flowed unchecked from her eyes and rolled down her cheeks as she imagined her little son so near yet so far away!

“Aye, lad, I’m back,” she heard Arne say in a gentle voice, “but what are ye doin’, bargin’ intae yer uncle’s study like that? That’s nae very polite. Ye nearly knocked these gentlemen over.”

“Sorry, Da,” came Thorsten’s little voice. “Sorry, Uncle Haldor.”

“That’s all right, lad,” Haldor said soothingly. “I’m sure the gentlemen dinnae mind. They’re just leavin’ anyway.”

“Aye, I apologize fer me son’s rambunctious manners, gentlemen, but he’s only three, so ye’ll have tae forgive him,” Arne put in.

There were polite murmurs as the men were shown out and the door closed. But as much as she burned to see her son, Raven could not get out of the cupboard. She had to swallow her tears, knowing she had to wait until Arne let her out.

---