Chapter
1
She watched him standing there; knowing all that was wrong with her world
lay squarely on his shoulders and what he’d done to her. Had he any misgivings,
any guilt, at all, over how her world no longer existed? If so, she couldn’t
tell by looking at him.
He was just as tall and handsome as she remembered him. She sat on the rickety
stool in the dark, smoky corner of the old inn, knowing full well when this day
moved on she’d make him miserable, as he dragged her, once again, to his castle
on the northern edge of the highlands to a family that didn’t want her. It would
be another long, lonely day atop a horse.
The sun had climbed high into the morning sky, burning the mist away, by the time he reached out to
drag her home. He never said a word; he just grabbed her arm and tugged her to
her feet. She grew tired of fighting the same battle every day, she belonged to
him, she knew that, it had been decreed years ago by their parents. Rhiannon
hadn’t thought much about this time, but knew someday he’d have to fetch her to
his home. That day came with the death of his father. Now Ian was Laird and she
was already his wife, she had been since she was 7 summers
old.
Rhiannon had been a wee little redhead with freckles sprinkled across her nose when they’d stood before
the priest. She’d fought her father the whole time, kicking and crying out for
her brother. Her brother, Liam, had handed her a bunch of flowers and told her,
“Stand tall and be proud of who ye are, Rhiannon, ‘tis an honor to marry into
our family”. She recalled taking the flowers Liam had offered, and wiping her
nose across his sleeve before she finally ceased crying. Through the entire
ceremony she had sniffled, and shuffled her little feet, as she’d become the
wife of the future laird of Crainmore Castle.
Rhiannon didn’t recall much more of that day. She’d heard the story from her people, but since it was close
to ten summers ago Rhiannon had figured he’d forgotten about her. She was
surprised when he showed up a sentnight ago to claim his bride, and had the
nerve to order her to pack up and be ready to travel in 3 days’ time. Her father
hadn’t said a word, hadn’t argued over her leaving but, had, in fact, gotten her
dowry packed and ready to go before she’d begun packing her belongings.
He tugged a little harder on her hand this time and she flew to her feet. “I am capable of getting up
myself, all ye need do is ask,” Rhiannon spat at him. ”I’m also quite capable of
walking out the door and mounting the horse myself”. She chided herself for
being lost in her past and not noticing the fact that he’d approached, much less
been able to place his hand on her arm. With her head high she hurried out the
iron decorated wooden door before he had a chance to touch her
again.
“Aye, I ken ye could, but would ye follow me, yer husband, or run for the closest hill?” Ian asked,
knowing she would choose the latter. His memories of her didn’t do
justice to the bonny lass she’d grown up to be. Her hair was still a fiery red,
flowing in soft tendrils to her waist, but the freckles had faded with time and
now they only enhanced her beauty. Her eyes were still as big as those emerald
green eyes that had looked up at him filled with tears all those years ago. In
fact, they looked exactly the same this very day. Those tear filled eyes haunted
his dreams for years as he saw the pain he’d caused her that day. It wasn’t his
fault but he felt guilt nonetheless.
“I would head for the closest hill, sir, back to those who love me.” She whispered, “Back to where I
belong, where I grew up, where my heart
lies”.
1
She watched him standing there; knowing all that was wrong with her world
lay squarely on his shoulders and what he’d done to her. Had he any misgivings,
any guilt, at all, over how her world no longer existed? If so, she couldn’t
tell by looking at him.
He was just as tall and handsome as she remembered him. She sat on the rickety
stool in the dark, smoky corner of the old inn, knowing full well when this day
moved on she’d make him miserable, as he dragged her, once again, to his castle
on the northern edge of the highlands to a family that didn’t want her. It would
be another long, lonely day atop a horse.
The sun had climbed high into the morning sky, burning the mist away, by the time he reached out to
drag her home. He never said a word; he just grabbed her arm and tugged her to
her feet. She grew tired of fighting the same battle every day, she belonged to
him, she knew that, it had been decreed years ago by their parents. Rhiannon
hadn’t thought much about this time, but knew someday he’d have to fetch her to
his home. That day came with the death of his father. Now Ian was Laird and she
was already his wife, she had been since she was 7 summers
old.
Rhiannon had been a wee little redhead with freckles sprinkled across her nose when they’d stood before
the priest. She’d fought her father the whole time, kicking and crying out for
her brother. Her brother, Liam, had handed her a bunch of flowers and told her,
“Stand tall and be proud of who ye are, Rhiannon, ‘tis an honor to marry into
our family”. She recalled taking the flowers Liam had offered, and wiping her
nose across his sleeve before she finally ceased crying. Through the entire
ceremony she had sniffled, and shuffled her little feet, as she’d become the
wife of the future laird of Crainmore Castle.
Rhiannon didn’t recall much more of that day. She’d heard the story from her people, but since it was close
to ten summers ago Rhiannon had figured he’d forgotten about her. She was
surprised when he showed up a sentnight ago to claim his bride, and had the
nerve to order her to pack up and be ready to travel in 3 days’ time. Her father
hadn’t said a word, hadn’t argued over her leaving but, had, in fact, gotten her
dowry packed and ready to go before she’d begun packing her belongings.
He tugged a little harder on her hand this time and she flew to her feet. “I am capable of getting up
myself, all ye need do is ask,” Rhiannon spat at him. ”I’m also quite capable of
walking out the door and mounting the horse myself”. She chided herself for
being lost in her past and not noticing the fact that he’d approached, much less
been able to place his hand on her arm. With her head high she hurried out the
iron decorated wooden door before he had a chance to touch her
again.
“Aye, I ken ye could, but would ye follow me, yer husband, or run for the closest hill?” Ian asked,
knowing she would choose the latter. His memories of her didn’t do
justice to the bonny lass she’d grown up to be. Her hair was still a fiery red,
flowing in soft tendrils to her waist, but the freckles had faded with time and
now they only enhanced her beauty. Her eyes were still as big as those emerald
green eyes that had looked up at him filled with tears all those years ago. In
fact, they looked exactly the same this very day. Those tear filled eyes haunted
his dreams for years as he saw the pain he’d caused her that day. It wasn’t his
fault but he felt guilt nonetheless.
“I would head for the closest hill, sir, back to those who love me.” She whispered, “Back to where I
belong, where I grew up, where my heart
lies”.