Page 76 of The Highlander's Temporary Bride
But she lifted her chin and met his gaze, some ferocity beating through her heart.
I will never say goodbye to you, Grant.
He seemed to see that, to hesitate. But of course, as Emma knew he would, he vanished into the shadows. Into a future they could not share.
And she knew that her heart had been trying to warn her with that dream—that futile, desperate dream.
Truly,Emma mused as she looked out at the loch, the expanse of Banrose lands, and shed bitter tears.You understood nothing.
CHAPTER 31
Grant had lostall sense of time.
Days had passed, then a week, then another. He went through the routine of conducting business, of eating, of sleeping—or trying to.
Every day, every hour, and every minute, he missed Emma all the more. She haunted his halls and his dreams. He saw her everywhere, standing at the windows with a smile on her face, hurrying away and laughing, or turning to him with an outstretched hand. Sometimes he could not be sure if he was awake or asleep. For the farther she got from him, the more it seemed that he haunted Banrose.
Moreover, he knew he could never marry Helena Lovell, even if he was meant to. Every day, he feared that she would arrive with the Queen’s retinue and orders to wed that night. Yet, so far, she had not come. Nor had word that Emma had arrived at Yorkshire—though he knew that she would soon. He’d sentMcWirthe and his most capable men to protect her, so he knew she was safe, but still, he wished he had gone with them.
I wouldnae have been able to let her go,he silently acknowledged as he stood at the window in his study.I ken this.
A soft knock sounded at the door, and he bade whoever it was to enter. He straightened as his mother walked in.
Brenda had wept and grieved for Reuben, and yet she did not seem as distant. Perhaps she had found some relief in the fact that the last of his father’s cruelty was gone.
For Reuben’s plots had stretched into the village—skimming off the yeomen’s taxes, cheating the villagers, and plotting with Grierson.
To Grant’s surprise, all of his folks seemed furious on his behalf, furious that his brother had betrayed him for the sake of power, and he felt their kindness, along with deep respect.
“They ken that ye chose Banrose over yer blood,”Kyla had explained one evening on their way back from the village. “‘Tis nay small thing.”
“Banrose is me blood,” Grant had said, and she had shot him a surprised look, then smiled.
Among Reuben’s papers, they had found out the terrible truth about what happened to the old healer, Mac, and where his body was buried. Now, they’d given him a stone and a proper send-off.
“Hello, Ma,” Grant said and tried to smile.
Brenda smiled softly in return, and he noticed that her eyes were red-rimmed but clear. “Hello, me son.” She stepped toward him and held out a letter bearing a familiar, elegant handwriting. His heart leaped, but he looked away. “I thought ye would like to ken that Emma has arrived in Yorkshire—she now is at Cambarelle, waitin’ for her aunt.”
“Good, that’s good,” Grant said in a stilted voice and strode past her, not taking the letter. Instead, he sorted through the papers on his desk, even though he knew he was making a mess of his steward’s work. He glanced up when he felt her eyes on him. “I shall see ye at dinner.”
To his surprise, his mother suppressed a smile and came forward, laying the letter on his desk.
“Grant,” she said. “Why are ye still here? I thought ye would leave as soon as she was at the border of our lands, then Scotland, and now…?”
Grant glared at the letter because he could not glare at his mother. “I cannae force the lass, Ma,” he grunted. “She wants nothin’ to do with me or our life here. Trust me.”
“I cannae when ye arenae seein’ clearly,” Brenda said in a bright voice that surprised him. There was a soft light in her eyes. “She is scared.”
“I ken,” Grant uttered. “Maither, please, I ken that I owe ye me life, me legacy, but?—”
“And now yer wife,” Brenda cut in, which jarred him like a slap to the head. “Ye have always been a brave lad, doin’ the right thing nay matter how terrifyin’—or how difficult.” She reached out and took his hand. “MacCabe said that ye would return, but I didnae believe him. Nae until we met again after all those years.”
“What does this have to do with anything?” Grant asked weakly. “As for me wife… Nay, I am to marry–”
He could not say her name.
His mother squeezed his hand. “It’s everythin’, Grant. Ye have been through so much. Ye have been asked to shoulder burdens that nay man should, and yet ye do time and again. And I fear that ye think losin’ Emma is another—some penance for what happened. But nay. Here, ye have a choice.”
