Page 47 of Love Me Forever (Highland Duo #2)

T he days were warm, the sky a stunning blue, and all around her flowers bloomed brightly and Brianna planned. Her time was growing short, and if Royce did not arrive soon, she would have no choice but to leave and seek safety in the woods.

Day by day she had gathered the items necessary for her escape and items necessary to birth the babe.

Her delivery time drew near, and the thought of giving birth alone frightened her, but the thought of Arran taking her child away from her frightened her more, so she had no choice but to accept and prepare to deliver her child.

She had hidden the gathered items in the woods each time she scavenged for branches and twigs to fashion baskets. One basket she had made would help her carry all her items, and she would soon stock it and leave it in the woods.

Surprisingly, Arran had not bothered her, at least physically.

His remarks were meant to torment and hurt, and at one time his words would have inflicted damage.

Now, however, they had no effect on her.

She was much too busy to pay him attention, though it appeared that she did little but collect material needed to fashion a variety of baskets.

While her hands created, her mind plotted, and she felt secure that while it appeared that she sat idly by she was actually busy planning.

“You sit here every day making those stupid baskets,” Arran said, walking up to where she sat on a blanket beneath a tree, her hands busy bending and shaping the branches into place.

“What else have I to do?” She shaded her eyes from the sun that glared from behind his shoulder and then slowly stretched her arms, moving her head from side to side, pretending to ease her neck muscles when actually she watched the men who guarded the surrounding area.

She had been able to determine when they switched places and what men were less vigilant than others.

“You were always lazy,” Arran said with disgust.

“Did you think I would change?” While rubbing the back of her neck, she watched two men busy talking and laughing and not paying attention to their duties. She had watched them before and decided the two would serve her well when she made her escape.

“Nay, I did not and that is why it irritated me so to think that I required you in exchange of coins.”

“I am curious, Arran.”

He sneered. “A strange concept for one who never questioned.”

She did not bother to remind him of the consequences she was made to suffer if she had dared to question him.

She simply wished to settle her curiosity. “Why did you wait so long to abduct me?”

“Your ignorance astounds me.” She looked at him as if he were the ignorant one.

“What does my ignorance have to do with it?”

“You are ignorant of the truth. You always have been and you disgust me as much now as when we were married.”

“You will be rid of me soon enough.”

“I would have been rid of you by now if the idiots I sent to bring you to me had done a proper job of abducting you.”

Brianna digested his remark, and the realization fired her temper. She did not, however, display her anger. That would have pleased Arran, and she had no intentions of pleasing the repulsive man.

“So it was you who caused my carriage accident and the death of the two men.”

He seemed proud, raising his chin in triumph.

She deflated him fast enough. “You must be accustomed to failure by now.”

He turned bright red and his hands fisted at his sides. “Will you think me a failure when you must leave your child in my care?”

His words stung her heart, but she would not give him the satisfaction of knowing his target had suffered a direct hit. “That will not happen.”

“You are so sure, and yet the great Royce Campbell foolishly follows the wrong trail. By the time he realizes he has erred, the babe will be born and the wee one will guarantee my safety.”

“You are the fool if you believe that.” Mentally she called to Royce, told him where she was, and prayed that he heard her silent plea.

“Is he here?” Arran asked, spreading his arms wide.

“Do you see him?”

Brianna defended the man she loved. “He would not be so foolish as to walk straight into your camp.”

“Why not? He is a legend; legends cannot die. What has he to fear?”

“Royce fears nothing.”

He rushed toward her, leaning over so that his nose nearly touched hers. “He will know true fear by the time I get done with him.”

She wisely remained silent, and besides, a dull ache had begun in her back a short time earlier, and at first she had paid it no mind, but it had continued, and she feared the babe might have decided to arrive sooner than she had thought.

If that were so, she would need to make a hasty escape and find a place in the woods to birth the babe. This being her first, she would be wise to leave as soon as possible.

Arran had stepped away from her, and she made an attempt to stand, her extra burden making movement slow for her. Arran ignored her need for assistance and watched with a smirk as she struggled to stand on her own.

She was about to tell him she was going to gather more branches when to her shock her water broke and flooded the ground around her.

Arran laughed. “The babe arrives, and where, dear wife, is the father?”

She wanted to scream in frustration. What now was she to do? A pain stabbed at her stomach, and she realized that at the moment the only thing she was going to do was to birth her babe.

“Go and deliver the little bundle who will guarantee my safety.”

He would not even extend a helpful hand. She walked off on her own, the pain subsiding, but she knew not for long. She barely reached the cottage door when another pain struck.

Arran called out to her when she bent over from the pain. “You are on your own, wife, there is no one here to help you.”

Tears stung her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. With difficulty she made it into the cottage, shutting the door behind her. “Please,” she cried softly. “Please, Royce. I need you.”

Having been present for several births and having discussed the birthing process in detail with Moira, she felt comfortable that she understood what needed to be done.

She had gathered twice the necessary items, having left half in a bundle in the woods and the other half in the cottage. She thought it wise that Arran should see her prepare for the delivery, or he might grow suspicious.

Now she was relieved that she had done so, for all was ready for her. She placed the items she needed close by the bed and filled two buckets with water. Carrying them near the bed was the most difficult, but with slow steps and much effort she succeeded.

When another pain hit she was next to the bed, and she sat, her hand resting where the pain struck.

It was then she realized that her birthing pains were close together and that there was a good chance the delivery would be fast and she hoped safe.

If she grew too weary from the labor pains, she would have difficulty tending the babe.

She managed to slip off all her clothes but her shift, and then lay on the bed ready to face the birth alone.

The pains continued on into the night and Brianna did not have the quick birth she had hoped for. Arran had ventured into the cottage now and again to complain that she took too long and that she should be done with it.

She tried not to fight the pain, but at times she wanted to scream.

Instead she gripped hold of the sheets and bit down on the thick stick that she had purposely broken down to size for just this reason.

She had no intentions of letting Arran receive any pleasure from her screams. No matter how difficult, she would not cry out.

The night wore on and into morning. She thought she would not have an ounce of strength left to tend the stubborn babe, for it seemed that he did not want to be born. She ached from the endless hours of pain, and when finally she lay back and told herself no more, the babe arrived.

It was past dawn when Brianna finally settled herself and her daughter down to rest. She was a beautiful little girl, full in the face and with a thatch of dark hair.

While she gave her mother hours of suffering, when she was ready she had slipped into the world without a problem and with much less pain than her mother had expected.

She gave a cry but settled quickly against her mother, and even when Brianna washed her clean and tucked her in a warm blanket to rest beside her, she barely made a sound. She seemed content and fell fast asleep.

Brianna had little strength left to see to her own needs but did what was necessary, and though she wished for a thorough cleaning, it would wait until she was stronger.

Arran entered the cottage and looked upon the sleeping babe and Brianna pale as death and barely able to keep her eyes open.

“You could not even birth a babe,” he said with his usual disgust. “Now what am I to do?” He shook his head, and then quickly nodded. “You look as though you will not make the day. It will be up to the babe to get me my coins. Aye, this will work.”

He spoke to himself, and while he made little sense, she realized he thought she was dying. If she could rest for a few hours, perhaps then she could make an escape.

If she could just manage to get into the woods, grab her bundle, and find a safe refuge, she and her daughter would be fine.

She was strong; she could do it. She had to or else Arran would take her daughter from her, and that she would not allow.

She would rest and keep her daughter safely by her side, and when the time was right she would make her escape.

She had to, no matter how much she ached or how tired she felt; escape meant her daughter’s life.

Arran watched her eyes drift shut and shook his head. “Worthless.”

She would be gone soon. His only hope now was that Royce cared for his child as much as the mother. New plans would be necessary all because his wife was a weak woman who had no birthing strength in her.

He wrinkled his nose at the disorder in the cottage.

Bloody towels lay on the floor and blood stained the sheets. It was a disgusting sight and he wanted no part of it. As soon as Brianna died, he would have her body dumped in the woods for the animals to feast on.

Hopefully he could keep the tiny bundle alive. For now he wanted no part of either of them, and he fled the cottage.

Brianna heard the door shut and her daughter stir. She rocked her gently in her arms. “It is all right, little one. I will rest and then we will leave here and wait in the woods for your father. He will come for us. I know he will.”

She fell into a light slumber, but the birthing had robbed much of her strength, and she could not stop the deep sleep that her body needed to heal from grabbing hold of her. She and the babe fell into a contented and much needed sleep.

Arran paced in front of the cottage. He had to devise new plans.

With Brianna close to death, the babe would not survive long on its own unless he could find nourishment for it.

He needed to keep the child alive until Royce parted with a substantial amount of coins, then it mattered not to him if the babe lived or died.

He silently cursed Brianna. She never did anything right. She never had the strength nor was she woman enough to be his wife. He would not mourn her passing; she had not mourned his.

He would make his escape to the outer Isles and start anew.

No one would know of him there. He would become someone else and find a clan that was deserving of him.

He looked around at the men he had gathered.

They were a motley bunch deserving of nothing, and as soon as he was done here, he would make certain to part ways with them quickly enough.

They were not worth the coins he had promised them and he certainly had no intentions of sharing any coins with them.

He rubbed at the pain in his neck. He would send a ransom demand to Royce immediately, not telling him of Brianna’s death, but informing him of the child’s birth.

He laughed. He did not know whether Royce had a son or daughter, and he did not care, though he thought that a son would bring more coins.

Knowing Brianna’s inadequacies, she probably gave Royce a daughter.

Nonetheless, the demand would be sent, and Royce no doubt would answer.

Arran raised his head when he heard shouts and someone cry out as if in pain. His eyes widened and he took several steps back.

Royce walked out of the woods bare-chested, sword in hand, and his deep green eyes enraged with fury. He swatted the men who approached him out of his way as if they were mere insects that disturbed him.

His men and Ian kept their distance at the edge of the woods, but remained alert and ready for battle. When Arran’s men caught sight of them, they fled without a thought.

Arran stood alone.

Royce drew his sword and stopped a few feet in front of the trembling man. “I have come for my wife.