Page 26 of Love Me Forever (Highland Duo #2)

B rianna found herself at a loss the next day.

She did not want to speak with anyone; she wanted nothing more than to be left alone.

Everyone seemed to have an opinion about her situation.

Moira and Anne had naturally taken her side, both women having an independent nature and having taught Brianna to reclaim her own.

Ian and Blair seemed sympathetic to Royce since they both had dealt with the perils and joys of falling in love.

She had grown impatient as they offered their words of wisdom, and while she understood that they only wished to help, she wished for them all to leave her alone. She

ached for the solitude of the cottage, and if she were able, she would ride off on her own to the simple small dwelling and reside there for as long as it took to settle her problem.

Finally, having felt she could take no more, and desperately seeking solitude, she wrapped herself in her warm wool cloak, pulled up the hood, and took off for a much-needed walk alone.

She was only a few feet from the keep when she noticed a man following her.

He did not hide his intentions but kept firm and steady on her trail.

He was large with bright red hair and a nose that had been broken more than once.

He looked to be of a pleasant nature, nodding a greeting to those who dared look his way, his size being a little intimidating.

There was no doubt that he was one of Royce’s men, and the thought irritated her.

Brianna paused once or twice to see what he would do, and he stopped and waited patiently for her to continue walking. By the time she neared the outskirts of the village, she had had enough. She turned and confronted him.

“Why do you follow me?” she snapped, turning on him in such a flurry that the large man actually backed away from her.

“I mean you no harm,” he said apologetically. “Royce ordered me to guard you well, and so I shall.”

He had a gentle voice for one so large and Brianna felt guilty at the harsh way she addressed him. She softened her tone when she said, “I need no one to guard me.”

“I must obey Royce.” Again, he sounded apologetic.

She attempted to keep her patience. ‘Tell him what I tell you. I need no guard.”

“I cannot leave your side, for then I will disobey his orders.”

Her patience was growing short. “You mean to follow me, then, wherever I go.”

He was hesitant to answer. “Aye, I do.”

“I wish to be alone.” She kept a tight rein on her temper; after all, he was not the one she was angry with.

“I will keep my distance and give you time for yourself.”

“I want to be by myself, completely alone, no one about, just me, me, me!” Her voice rose with every word.

He seemed not to know what to do with her. He simply shrugged.

“Where is Royce?” she demanded.

He seemed relieved by her query and answered with haste. “He sees to the men.”

‘Take me to him,” she ordered firmly.

He nodded once, again looking relieved.

She followed beside him as he led her to a large clearing not far outside the village.

Men tended horses, others cooked over an open fire, while others polished their swords or tended to their bows and arrows.

Royce stood in the middle of a band of men that maybe numbered twenty. They all paid heed to his words.

The man she followed stepped to the side as they approached the circle of men. She continued marching forward, the men moving out of her path.

She entered the circle and stopped. “I will have a word with you.”

“When I am finished, we will talk,” he said pleasantly, though his words were measured well.

“Nay, we will talk now.”

Hushed whispers raced around the circle of men, and Royce cast a quick eye around. Silence fell instantly.

“When I am done.” It was a demand he issued her, and she intended no part of it.

“Then hear me well now. I will have none of your men guard me. I wish to be alone and alone I shall be.” She turned to go.

“You shall have a guard.”

Her temper flared. “You cannot dictate to me.”

“Aye, I can and I will. You are mine and what is mine I keep safe.”

Her temper snapped. “You are not my husband and have no right.”

“I will be your husband and have the right.”

By now most of the camp had gathered nearby, and from the corner of her eye she caught her brother and Blair approaching.

She was tired of being dictated to, she was tired of always having her brother come to her defense, and she would not have it any longer.

“Keep your men from me,” she said with a controlled anger and turned and walked away.

“Brianna,” Royce called out.

She would not pay heed to him; she continued walking.

“Brianna!” He grew louder.

Her brother and Blair remained on the side, watching, and she grew annoyed when she saw that they were smiling. She grew more annoyed when she heard heavy footsteps behind her and knew that Royce was fast approaching.

She decided she had had enough. She wanted solitude and she would have it. All she needed to do was reach the woods nearby. Once amongst the dense woods, she would lose him, for she had played there as a child and knew every inch of the forest.

She picked up her pace, testing her legs and finding that they were strong and even seemed eager for a run. She took off with a laugh and a sense of freedom that thrilled her.

Her hood dropped away from her head, her cloak flew out around her and her dark hair burst free of the combs that confined the heavy strands. With the crisp winter air stinging her cheeks and feeling so very much alive, she was overwhelmed by the sensation that she was flying as free as a bird.

She heard Royce call out to her again, though his footsteps sounded at a distance, and she was pleased that she could run faster than him. She was not far from the edge of the woods, and soon the dense trees would conceal her and she would be free to do as she pleased.

The pain struck her suddenly, and she went down to the ground hard and fast, her head hitting the hard earth and dazing her so that she could do naught but lay helpless.

She heard the rushed footsteps, the raised voices, but could not make sense of them. She knew only that until the pain subsided and her head stopped spinning, she could not move.

Royce reached her first, though Ian and Blair came up behind him in mere moments.

“Brianna, are you all right?” Royce asked, dropping to his knees beside her. His hands instantly moved beneath her to lift her.

She screamed louder than she intended, for the slightest movement aggravated the pain. “Do not touch me.”

“Did she break a bone?” Ian asked with concern.

“I do not know,” Royce answered, fearful of touching her and causing her further suffering.

“Nay,” she assured them, her voice lower, though filled with discomfort.

“What happened?” Royce asked, feeling much too helpless.

“A sharp pain—” She could say no more, for the pain ran down her leg once again when she made the slightest effort to move. A tear trickled from her eye, this pain being more intense than the first.

“She needs to be off this cold ground,” Ian said, upset at seeing his sister’s tears.

“I will not be” —she had to pause for a breath as the pain continued to radiate down her leg— “touched until I am ready.”

Ian looked to Royce. “She cannot continue to lie here. The ground is cold and damp and will do her no good.”

“Ian is right,” Moira said, joining her husband at his side. “She will suffer a chill, and that often brings on the fever.”

Royce needed to hear no more. He leaned down close so that Brianna could only hear his words. “Show me your determination.”

She realized his intention and agreed with a bare nod.

He spared her no time to consider the wisdom of his actions; he scooped her up in one solid swing into his arms.

She bit back her cry and fought to hold firm to her tears, and she immediately buried her face against his chest.

“Cry if you wish,” he whispered, pressing his face to hers. “Even the mightiest warrior sheds tears when he feels pain.”

“Have you cried?” she asked her arms tight around his neck.

He did not answer, and she patiently allowed him his silence.

His answer came slowly. “Everyone cries sometime in his life.”

The pain became suddenly unimportant. The fact that the legendary Royce Campbell had cried one time in his life was important. You had to have feelings to cry, and to have feelings you had to have a heart.

They neared the keep and she lifted her head, her eyes glistening with tears yet to be shed. “You have cried.”

He had thought her a beauty, but at that moment, with the tears sparkling in her brilliant blue eyes, her flushed and damp cheeks, her dark hair out of control from her ordeal, and the tender understanding in her voice, he never thought her more beautiful.

And his heart raced at the fact that she belonged to him.

He loved her so much that it hurt him to think of ever being without her.

They entered the keep.

“Will you tell me?” She did not demand, she simply requested, and she wished that all who followed behind them would go away and leave them alone. This was a private moment.

“Will you tell me why you ran?” He carried her up the steps to her bedchamber.

Soon they would not be alone, and neither of them would have their answers.

“Freedom,” she whispered and laid her head on his shoulder.

He nodded. “I understand.”

And with those words he entered her bedchamber and with a solid jolt of his boot-clad foot sent the door slamming behind them.

“Can we be free together?”

She stared at him for a moment, his scar bright red and frightening the way it consumed the one side of his face.

It made one wonder how he lived through such a horrific ordeal or made one think how skilled a warrior he must be to have survived. And yet what she truly saw was a man with a tender heart who wanted to be free with her and only her.

She smiled and placed her cheek against his scarred one. “I would like that.”