Highlander's Bride (Heart of the Highlander Series Book 1) Read Free Page A

you there is no need to
speak yet. I will soon. I vow it."  Pulling her to him again, he added,
"Now, come here to me and let me prove my love."
    "No, you've said this for nigh on a year. If
you truly wish me to be yours as you vow, you must convince my father this day.
Then we shall be free to wed as we want."
    Daniel released her and rolled onto his side.
"Nay, Katherine. I canna do so now. My endeavors to increase my wealth
have nay gone as I had hoped. If you will but wait a while yet, I will convince
my sire to entrust my mother's keep to me. She has no need of it."
    "We have no need of it," Katherine said.
"I would be happy to live anywhere with you as long as I have your
love."
    Daniel sighed and stood slowly, looking down at
her. "Alas, my dearest, I could not be content in such a meager holding as
I now own, even with you. Go home and let your parents think you are in
agreement. Be content and bide your time. Trust me. I will come for you soon. I
vow it." 
    Katherine sat in shocked silence, watching him
ride away. How could he do this? For months, he had sworn his undying love. She
had paid no heed to other men willing to court her, had waited only for him.
'Twould seem she had been played the fool! Aye, Daniel loved her well enough to
dally, but not to marry. In truth, he cared far more for wealth than for her.
Daniel's deception struck a blow to her heart as surely as if he'd hit her.
    Katherine cast an angry glance about her. She'd
been such a fool to believe in his love. She picked up the stalk of flowers
he'd given her, broke it in half and flung it to the ground. Then she mounted
her horse.
    For hours, she rode her mare over the surrounding
hills and forests, thinking. Her thoughts tumbled end over end and her anger
intensified. Finally, as the setting sun lashed the sky with fiery streaks, she
headed her mount toward home. After she turned her horse over to a groom in the
stable, she went to her chamber. Her troubled thoughts churned inside her. A
knock at her door drew her attention from her troubled contemplation.
    "M'lady, yer parents await ye in the great
hall. They bid ye join them for the evenin' meal."
    Katherine shook her head. "I'm not hungry.
Tell them I will break my fast with them on the morrow."
    "Aye, m'lady."
    After the servant left, Katherine sat beside her
writing desk and opened a hidden drawer. Lifting out the parchment where she
had foolishly practiced writing the name Lady Katherine Linden, she stared at
it in displeasure. Her fingers clutched the vellum tightly as she looked upon
the proof of her misguided trust. "By Saint Bridget, I will never be so
deceived again!"
    Angrily, Katherine wiped a tear from her face,
crushed the parchment into a ball and flung it into the flames in her
fireplace. Watching it wrinkle, blacken and burn to ash strengthened her
resolve. Never again would she let her heart be foolishly swayed. Never .
She would find a way to live as she chose. 
    Rising from her desk, she walked over to her open window
and stared out into the darkness. Sweet Mary, she must think of a way to change
this untenable situation. She stood quietly, forcing her breathing to slow,
emptying her mind of its useless fury and listened to the sounds of the night.
Wind whistled through the trees carrying the solitary cry of an owl as it flew
across the night sky.
    She envied its freedom. How wonderful it would be
if she could simply fly away and leave this foolish marriage behind. Or better
yet, have this unknown MacGregor carried off and leave her in peace. A smile
curved her lips. Aye, that would suit her well.
    She wasn't sure how long she stood there, staring
into the blackness of the night. Eventually, the wind died to a gentle breeze
and the owl called out again. Its cry drifted through her mental fog. When its
mate answered the owl's call, she frowned at the confining walls of her room.
She grabbed a cloak and climbed the stairs to the battlements to breathe the
night air that blew