Page 147 of Bride of Ice
For his own safety, Colban had to begin counting the moments. He had blood on his hands. Everyone had witnessed his agitation when he’d arrived at Rivenloch, his insistence on finding Archibald. Hallie and Ian had seen his determination when he’d gone after the wounded man. All evidence proved Colban was the killer.
But he couldn’t just leave the body to the wolves.
He didn’t want Hallie to see her husband like this.
And he shuddered to think Ian might stumble upon Archibald’s remains. It would be better if the lad thought Archibald had simply run away.
There was only one thing he must do, even if it took up precious time.
Half an hour later, sweat dripped onto his cheek as he wiped a grimy forearm across his brow. The wolves hadn’t returned. And using his sheathed sword as a makeshift spade, he’d managed to gouge a hole in the forest floor, deep enough to bury Archie’s remains. He covered the body with earth and leaves, disguising the grave. Then he rocked a small boulder over the remains to keep the wolves from digging them up.
He stabbed the dagger into the ground beside the boulder as a sign for Hallie, so she would know he’d kept his vow. Then he dusted off his hands and came to his feet.
He would leave now and never return. Colban an Curaidh would be no more. He’d change his name, go someplace far away. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d started over, been given a second chance. This time, however, the new beginning wrenched bitterly at his heart.
If only things had worked out differently, Colban could have been the one wedded to Hallidis Cameliard of Rivenloch. He could have been the one playfully sparring with Brand and Gellir, marveling over Ian’s inventions, charming Isabel. He could have been The One.
With a self-indulgent sigh, he began kicking dirt and leaves over the trail to cover the blood.
Then, in the distance, he heard a sound. Someone was coming.
Cursing his luck and snatching up his claymore, he fled down the path, leaving behind his name. His destiny. And the woman he would love forever.
Knowing what she knew now about Archibald Scott, Hallie didn’t waste a moment. Once Ian was safely deposited beside a warm hearth at Rivenloch with plenty of maidservants to fuss over him, she slipped out in pursuit of the monster.
If Colban didn’t find Archie, she’d scour the woods until she did. She wouldn’t suffer the fiend to live.
Along the way, she tormented herself with self-doubt.
How could she have been so blind? So oblivious?
How could she have missed what was going on in her own household? Right under her nose?
And how would she ever manage to protect her clan if she couldn’t even shield her little brother?
The signs of Archie’s debauchery had been there in front of her all along. The way he preferred the dark. And silence. And pleasuring himself. The way he shriveled in revulsion when she touched him.
Then there was his curious affinity for Ian. He’d been spending more and more time with the lad. Alone.
Her stomach suddenly heaved. She stopped on the path, waiting for the nausea to pass. She wasn’t sure what was making her more queasy. The sickening idea of what Archie might have done to Ian. Or the growing evidence, afflicting her more acutely each day, that she was with child.
She had to admit, having her husband dead would solve her problems where the babe was concerned. With no one alive to know otherwise, the clan would accept that the child was Archie’s.
As she hung her head down, staring at her boots and waiting to recover, an improper thought slithered tantalizingly at the back of her brain.
Once Archie was gone, what was to stop Colban from marrying her?
For a brief, glimmering moment, the idea sent a thrill of hope through her. To be wed to the father of her babe felt like providence.
But she quickly locked that idea away. She dared not let false hope consume her. She’d done that before.
Besides, too much time had passed. Surely Colban had found another lass by now. And Hallie had to at leastfeignto be stricken over Archie’s death.
Meanwhile, she meant to make certain hewasdead, to ensure the devil would never exercise his vices again.
Her stomach settled, and she continued down the path, wondering if Colban had found Archie or if she’d need to kill him herself. It wouldn’t be a pleasant task, but after what he’d done to Ian, it wouldn’t be difficult.
She focused on the leaf mulch, following the trail of blood droplets. They were growing closer together, indicating he had either slowed his pace or was losing blood at a faster rate. But when she entered the place where the path snaked through a stand of oaks, the blood trail suddenly disappeared.
