Page 1 of Love Me Forever
CHAPTER1
Scotland, 1513
I AM SORRY,BRIANNA, YOUR HUSBAND IS DEAD.
Those words resonated in her head and echoed in the depths of her soul. She had shed not a tear when her brother, Ian, had delivered the startling news. She had simply stared at him in silence. What else was there for her to do? Was she not waiting on this news? Had she not prayed for this?
Ian had not approached her, nor had he offered her any further condolences. He appeared at a loss as to how to comfort her and had turned a helpless look on his wife, Moira.
Her remark had taken her husband completely by surprise. “You will be late to the village if you do not leave now.”
Thinking back, Brianna appreciated her sister-in-law’s directness. She had helped her to face a difficult moment. Now, sitting alone in the coach a good distance from her brother’s keep in Glencoe, she was glad for the solitude. Her brother had protested her departure, insisting she should not go, insisting that she should not be alone at this time. But solitude was her friend, and she needed this time alone. This time to think and reason and recall all she had been through.
Moira thought his suggestion nonsense. She insisted that Brianna had healed nicely over the last six difficult months and that the villagers were eagerly awaiting her arrival. She would be instructing them in the making of new dyes and proper food preparation for the winter, which was but six weeks away. This trip was necessary not only for the villagers but for Brianna.
Her sister-in-law had been well-schooled at the convent where she had spent seventeen years of her life before marrying Ian. A monk had educated her in mathematics and science, and Moira had never lost her interest in knowledge; she continued to educate herself as well as those who wished to learn.
Brianna had wished to learn. Her studies had helped her to heal. It had taken time and she had shed endless tears in the process, but she had succeeded with Moira’s help in facing the truth about her husband and her marriage. Arran had been a handsome and selfish man. He had cared naught but for himself and in the end his own greed had been his destruction. He had plotted to murder Moira, the babe, and then Ian, leaving himself to lead the clan Cameron. He had managed to escape in the end, though not before threatening to kill his own wife.
She wiped at a single tear. It was not shed for Arran; he did not deserve her tears. It was shed out of relief that her ordeal had finally come to an end. She was free, no longer wed, nor ever wishing to wed again.
She had given her heart only to have it broken. She had thought love could heal all and survive all. She would not make that foolish mistake again. She would trust no man, particularly a handsome man, and besides, she found it difficult to believe in love. She had thought when she fell in love it would be forever. She was wrong and she would take no second chances.
There was, however, one man in her life she knew truly cared for her, and that was her six-month-old nephew, Duncan. He had captured her heart and she was madly in love with the tiny lad. And since she was barren, never in her four years of marriage having conceived a child, she would give her love to her brother’s son.
The wooden coach hit several bumps in the road, and Brianna grimaced, knowing it would be a sore bottom she would suffer upon her arrival. But it mattered little to her, for she was looking forward to teaching the village women all that Moira had taught her. Ian had sent two men along with her for protection. Usually, she had many more around her, but with Arran’s death there was no longer any need for concern and she was pleased.
She had felt like a prisoner. She was now free.
“Free,” she said softly, smiled, and hugged herself. It was a good feeling.
Another hard bump had her almost tumbling off her seat, and when she heard the crack of thunder in the distance, she assumed the men had hastened the pace in an attempt to make the village before the storm made the roads impassable.
Autumn was fast giving way to winter, and it was an unusually cold day for November. She wrapped her red and green plaid around her, her soft green wool tunic and underdress keeping her warm, and there was a fur wrap in the coach in case the weather worsened. She felt well-protected.
The coach gave a leap and a bump, and Brianna peeked past the leather hide window coverings. She did not like what she saw. They traveled dangerously close to the edge of a hill, and while it was not a far drop, it was nonetheless a drop that could prove fatal to them all.
She sat back in her seat and recited a silent prayer for their safety. In a few minutes the coach slowed, though the pace remained hasty, and Brianna sighed with relief.
The sigh was but brief. At that moment the coach suddenly tilted, sending Brianna smashing against the door. She tried frantically to grab the window strap for support or to right herself, but it was a hand’s length from her reach. The coach toppled over, and she screamed as her body was thrown senselessly around the toppling coach. It turned over and over and over, and before it came to a crashing halt on the ground, Brianna had mercifully slipped into unconsciousness.
Darkness was all she could see and pain was all she could feel. She dared not make a sound, for that might disturb the throbbing pain that already resonated throughout her body. She lay silent in the darkness wondering how she had gotten here and where here was.
It took several agonizing minutes for her to regain her senses and realize what had happened. The coach had run off the side of the road and plunged furiously down the hill, rendering her unconscious and quite possibly killing the two men with her. And if that was so, she was now helpless. There was no one to offer her help or protection, and she was in no condition to protect herself. She kept slipping in and out of consciousness, and that made it more difficult for her to focus. Her one constant thought was that she needed to open her eyes and see to her whereabouts. If she could determine the extent of her situation, perhaps then she could determine a solution.
She thought she heard the crunching of leaves as if someone approached, and at first she felt relief, though fear quickly followed. If one of the men had survived the crash, he would have called out to her to let her know of his approach. A stranger would remain silent.
Robbers and villains were well acquainted with this area and would waste no time in claiming what they could from the damaged coach and the bodies they found. Fear raced through her and only caused her more pain. She hurt so badly that she could not determine her injuries.
Pain at the moment was in complete control of her body, and she could only maintain her presence of mind sporadically.
The heavy footsteps moved closer, the crunch of the leaves sounding louder to Brianna’s ears. There was naught that she could do. She was defenseless. She could but wait and meet her fate.
Being a Cameron, she felt the need to react with courage since she was unable to defend herself, and she struggled to open her eyes and meet friend or foe.
With great difficulty she managed to open her eye enough to see the shape of a dark figure. Tall and broad were the only distinguishing features she could determine, for her eyes warred with her to close.
The mysterious figure bent down beside her, and in an instant she felt herself being lifted into powerful arms, but the pain that the movement caused her so overwhelmed that she slipped back into the blessed darkness.
