Page 45 of Hard-Hearted Highlander
They rode back in the same manner they’d ventured out—in complete silence, the only sound the horse’s labored breathing. Or maybe that was her own harsh breathing, for Bernadette couldn’t shake the vision of that house from her mind, could not keep her thoughts from filling in the images of what must have taken place there, could not stop thinking of the way his mouth and hands felt on her.
When they reached the turn to Killeaven, she asked him to stop. “I’ll walk from here.” Her fear of running across the stranger she’d encountered earlier this morning notwithstanding, she couldn’t allow anyone to see her riding with him.
Mackenzie didn’t question it and helped her down. He glanced at the sky, and the gray clouds that were beginning to slide in from the sea. “You best be quick, aye?” he said, emotionless.
Bernadette knew the look he wore now. She could almost feel it, it was so familiar to her—he was still numbed by tragedy. “I will,” she assured him, and began to walk briskly away. To wish good day to a man who likely had not had one in some time seemed ridiculous to her, and she wanted nothing more than to flee now, to try and understand why she’d kissed him in that moment, to try and understand what she was doing to Avaline. But she didn’t understand, and she couldn’t walk fast enough away from her crime. She began to run, laboring up a hill in her boots. She reached a point in the road that turned to the east, and she paused to catch her breath. She glanced back.
Mackenzie was still atop his horse where she’d left him, watching her. He slowly turned his horse about and rode on.
* * *
BERNADETTEARRIVEDATKilleaven a few minutes later. Her feet ached and her hair had lost a few pins along the way.
“What has happened to you?” Charles asked when he opened the door to her, concerned.
“I went for a walk,” she said, brushing past him to enter the house. She felt cold, and hugged herself. “Where is Miss Kent?”
“With her mother in the lady’s sitting room. Are you unwell?”
“No, I’m... It’s a bit cold, that’s all.” She hurried away from him before he saw that she was lying.
She paused in her room to remove the boots and tuck her hair into place, then hurried to Lady Kent’s sitting room. She knocked softly, heard the voice bidding her to enter. When Bernadette stepped in, her heart skipped—Avaline was dressed in a sumptuous gown of pale blue silk. A maid was on the floor at her feet, pinning the hem.
Avaline smiled brilliantly. “Isn’t it beautiful?” she asked, and held out her arms. “This is to be my wedding dress.”
Bernadette’s heart began to race. “Oh.”
“Don’t you like it?”
“What? Yes, of course I do. It’s beautiful,” Bernadette said, and privately willed herself to get hold of her emotions.
“Mamma had it commissioned before we left,” Avaline said, looking down, admiring her gown. “It was a surprise!”
Lady Kent was beaming at her daughter. “She will be the loveliest of brides. The banns will be posted on the morrow.”
The marriage banns! That made it seem so inescapable, so permanent!
“We’ll have the wedding in a fortnight,” Lady Kent said, and clasped her hands together at her throat, admiring the gown. It was as if she’d forgotten all about the wretched circumstances of this wedding or her fear that her daughter was marrying a Highlander.
“So soon?” Bernadette asked weakly. Her heart was now beating so soundly that she had to sit down.
“What’s wrong, Bernadette?” Avaline asked, frowning with concern. “You look unwell.”
“No. No, I—I went for a walk.”
Avaline clucked her tongue at her. “You’ve been walking far too much. It can’t possibly be good for you. What do you think?” she asked, holding up a pair of white silk gloves. “These? Or these?” she asked, and held up a pair of blue silk gloves.
Bernadette forced herself to smile. “The blue,” she said. She had to say something. She had to stop this insanity. “Avaline...you’re certain of this wedding, are you?”
She noticed the look that passed between mother and daughter before Avaline said, “I’m certain that I have no choice. And therefore, I best be about it.”
“You can end it,” Bernadette said, her voice shaking. “You can always refuse it.”
“I beg your pardon!” Lady Kent said. “She cannot!”
Avaline turned her back to Bernadette. “I would that I could, dearest, I do. But I can’t, and I think you must accept that I can’t, Bernadette.”
Bernadette wasn’t accepting anything just yet.
