Page 20 of The Highlander's Christmas Bride

Donella gratefully took off her bonnet and shook out her curls as she scanned the small room, comfortably furnished with a four-poster bed with a floral quilt and pillows covered in starched linen. A handsome leather wing chair stood before the fireplace, and a round table with two high-backed chairs was tucked under the eaves. Compared to her cell in the convent, the simple room seemed almost extravagant.

The innkeeper closed the window curtains before expertly building up the peat fire that had already been smoldering on the hearth.

“It’s a lovely room, Mrs. Murray. Thank you.”

“It’s nae what ye’ll be used to at Blairgal Castle, but ye’ll find it a bit more cozy than any convent. Now that’s plain livin’, I ken. Yer well shot of it, if ye don’t mind me sayin,’ miss. No life for such a foine lady as yerself.”

Donella blinked. “How did you know I’d been in a convent?”

Now that the fire was burning nicely, Mrs. Murray stood and wiped her hands on her apron.

“Och, Miss Haddon, there weren’t a body within fifty miles that didn’t know ye were meant to be the future Lady of Riddick.” She shook her head. “And to be thrown over by aSassenach,no less. No wonder ye ran off to join a nunnery.”

Apparently, three years hadn’t been long enough to kill the chatter that had surrounded her broken engagement to Alasdair.

“I appreciate your kind words, Mrs. Murray, but your sympathy is unnecessary. I never wished to marry my cousin, and I’m very fond of his wife. We’reallvery fond of Mrs. Gilbride.”

Mrs. Murray made a skeptical sound. “Then why did ye run off and hide in a convent?”

“I wasn’t hiding. It was my choice, and one I was happy to make.” She hoped her firm tone would put an end to the embarrassing conversation.

The innkeeper looked skeptical for a moment, then visibly brightened. “Still, ye found a grand, braw man in Mr. Kendrick. A lass couldna do any better, and I give ye both my hearty congratulations.”

Good God.

“Mr. Kendrick is simply a friend, Mrs. Murray. Nothing more. He’s . . . he’s escorting me home at my uncle’s request.”

Under the woman’s penetrating stare, Donella felt the blood rise to her cheeks. Of course the situation would look dodgy to the average stranger—a single man and woman, travelling together with no chaperone in sight.

“Mrs. Murray, do you think I could have a wash and a cup of tea before dinner?” she asked rather desperately. “I’m quite parched from all the dust on the road.”

The innkeeper nodded. “And me natterin’ on while all ye want is a little rest. I’ll send up a nice pot of tea and some hot water. Then I’ll see what my man’s done with your luggage.”

“Thank you.”

Mrs. Murray trotted to the door but paused to look back. “I still say ye could do worse than Mr. Kendrick. And if ye don’t mind me sayin’ so, he seems fair taken with ye.”

Donella did mind but kept those rather rude thoughts to herself.

Chapter Six

Donella came blearily awake. Where was she? Not in her convent cell, waiting for the great bell to call her to early morning prayers. Why didn’t she know where she was?

A spurt of panic jerked her upright. Her heart pounded as her gaze darted around the unfamiliar, shadow-drenched room. It took several slow, steadying breaths for her mind to settle, but the fog finally lifted and her memory dredged up the gruesome events of the last few days.

“Drat,” she muttered as she flopped back onto her pillow.

As tired as she was, she longed for daybreak. One more night on the road and she’d be home to Blairgal and her family. Although it would be an awkward reunion, with a host of uncomfortable questions, she’d be safe in her uncle’s stronghold. Even more importantly, she could share with him the fears that had seemed ridiculous one moment but all too real the next.

Mungo Murray.

The name conjured up painful, humiliating memories. She’d spent the last ten years trying to erase them. Now, her past had come back to haunt her, and at the worst possible time.

Over a solitary dinner in her room—Kendrick had eaten downstairs with Foster and Davey—she’d almost managed to convince herself that it was just her imagination spinning out of control. Mungo and the Murray Clan had surely long forgotten her. The likeliest explanation for the abduction attempt was that word had somehow gone round that she’d left the convent, and some enterprising group of bandits had tried to take advantage of her situation. She wouldn’t be the first wealthy young lady to be abducted and held for a ransom or used as a bargaining chip in marriage negotiations.

That last bit was the troubling part. Ten years ago, Uncle Riddick had stood fast against the demands of Mungo Murray, and the vile man’s threats to ruin her reputation. While her uncle had prevailed, as he always did, Mungo had vowed to extract revenge for the insult to his family, and especially to his son’s honor.

Donella feared that day of reckoning had finally arrived.

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