Page 41 of The Rogue's Bride
He felt as if he stood upon a knife’s edge. Every nerve in his body was taut, ready to fight. It was as if danger lurked behind each surrounding shadow. He’d get little rest tonight.
His encounter with Caitrin in the solar had thrown his world back into chaos. It had been a slap in the face, a brutal reminder of why he should have never let his guard down with her.
He had no one to blame but himself.
He’d been a gullible fool twice now. The first time he could have claimed ignorance, but this time he’d known full well the risk he’d been taking.
Alasdair stared out at the darkness, his gaze unfocused. He’d hurt Caitrin deeply by taking Eoghan. There was no worse revenge he could have exacted upon her. MacLeod’s demand had been the perfect excuse to send her away, while keeping his nephew.
Vengeance.
It had once been his constant companion, especially after he learned of Baltair’s death. Yet, for a brief few months it had released him from its claws, allowing him to hope that one day he might know happiness again. That was—until two days ago.
Now the beast had seized him once more. It perched upon his shoulder and whispered to him. It told him that Caitrin deserved his wrath—that she deserved to suffer as he had. As he did now.
Alasdair drew in a deep breath. Aye, this was what he’d wanted, what he’d planned for on the journey back to Duntulm all those months ago. He should feel jubilant, vindicated that he’d finally achieved his goal.
Why then did he simply feel hollow?
Chapter Eighteen
Return to Dunvegan
“LORD, HOW I’VE missed ye!” Rhona MacKinnon flew across the bailey and threw her arms around Caitrin. She drew back from her sister, storm-grey eyes gleaming. Tall and statuesque with a mane of auburn hair, Rhona looked as vibrant as ever. “Ye don’t write often enough!”
Caitrin swallowed a lump in her throat and forced a smile. She was aware that she and Rhona had an audience. Alasdair MacDonald and the rest of her escort were approaching the keep just a few strides behind her. The dove-grey bulk of Dunvegan keep towered above them. Much bigger than Duntulm, Malcolm MacLeod’s fortress faced west. It perched on the edge of a loch surrounded by lush green, with rugged hills at its back.
Usually, Caitrin was happy to come home, but this morning the sight of Dunvegan brought her no solace. It was just a reminder of what lay in store: a forced marriage.
“I’m sorry I’m so terrible at keeping in touch,” she replied. “The days pass and then, before I know it, a month has gone by and the letter I promised to send ye is still sitting on my desk half-written.”
Rhona gave an unladylike snort. “It sounds as if ye are much busier than me.” Her gaze shifted from Caitrin then, moving past her to the rest of the company. “Where’s Eoghan?”
Caitrin stiffened, struggling to keep the smile plastered to her face. She didn’t want to tell Rhona about Eoghan now, not with Alasdair MacDonald just a few feet behind her. “He’s remained in Duntulm.”
Rhona frowned. “But ye usually travel with him?”
“Not this time … he’s in good hands. Sorcha is minding him while I get this over with.”
Rhona nodded, her gaze shadowing. “That makes sense I suppose. Da’s got the bit between his teeth. He has three suitors lined up already … they’ll keep ye busy enough. Ye will be able to send for Eoghan once all this is done.” She looped her arm through Caitrin’s, and together they walked toward the set of steps leading up to the keep. “I bet the lad has grown.”
“Aye.” Caitrin’s face was starting to ache from the effort it was taking her to keep the smile frozen to her face. “He’ll be walking soon.” Caitrin paused here, desperate to change the subject. “Have ye heard from Adaira? The last letter I had was two moons ago.”
“I heard from her last around then too,” Rhona replied. “It sounds as if Gylen Castle suits her and Lachlann very well. Ma’s family welcomed them without hesitation. The descriptions of her new life there made me quite jealous.”
Caitrin huffed a laugh. “Then we shall have to organize a visit to see her … I have to admit I’m curious about Ma’s kin. I’d love to visit Gylen.” Even to her own ears Caitrin’s voice sounded forced. Of course she wanted to visit Adaira, but right now her priority was Eoghan.
They entered the keep and made their way through a wide entrance hall with stairs leading off it to the left and right. Straight ahead were the heavy oaken doors leading to the Great Hall.
“The noon meal is still being prepared,” Rhona said, steering her toward the left stairwell. “Come on, let’s go to the women’s solar. There’s so much I’ve got to tell ye.”
Caitrin set down the goblet of wine she’d just taken a sip from and tried to focus on her sister’s happy news. “Congratulations … I’m so pleased for ye both.”
Rhona beamed back at her. “I’ve been throwing up my bannocks in the mornings for over a week now … the healer confirmed it this morning. I’m with child.”
Caitrin smiled. “Taran must be overjoyed.”
“That’s an understatement. He hasn’t stopped grinning since I told him.” Rhona paused here, her gaze searching. She set aside her own goblet of wine. “There is something up with ye, Caitrin. I sensed it from the moment I set eyes on ye downstairs.”
