Page 29 of The Highlander’s Illicit Bride (Wicked Highland Lairds #1)

A fter spending the day with Mairi, Isolde felt refreshed and invigorated.

But she also felt a sharp pain in her heart.

She had come to like Mairi enormously. She’d never had a friend her own age or somebody whose merest presence lifted her heart.

She’d found those things in Mairi and the thought of walking away filled her with a sense of grief so powerful, it stole the breath from her lungs.

It only compounded the grief and loss that racked her heart and soul at the thought of leaving Struan as well. She couldn’t breathe and felt like she was teetering on the edge of a chasm of panic and grief.

The Camerons had shown her nothing but kindness and acceptance.

But leaving was the right thing to do. It was the only thing she could do if she wanted to keep Struan, Mairi, and their loved ones safe.

She knew Struan was certain her father would be coming to Achnacarry whether she was there or not.

And perhaps he was right. But he would have less of a reason to unleash his fury if she was not there—and did not marry Struan.

If I married him without me faither’s consent, his rage would be unimaginable.

If she was not there, Struan might have a chance at peace.

She hated that she was going to leave them in the middle of the night. But under the circumstances, it was the right thing to do.

Nonetheless, she didn’t want to leave without a single word of goodbye to Struan. He deserved some form of explanation for why she could not remain with him. He deserved to have some answers to the questions she knew would be running through his mind when he found her gone.

Isolde found her way to his study and quietly slipped inside.

She knew he was elsewhere with Ewan, tending to clan business and was not likely to walk in on her.

What she was doing was difficult enough.

The last thing she needed was to be caught in the middle of it and then to then have to explain it to Struan to his face.

That was something she was desperately trying to avoid.

Despite Struan telling her how strong he thought she was, Isolde felt like a coward. She could not bear to see the pain in his eyes when she told him she was leaving.

Isolde crossed to the massive desk and took a seat.

With the sun slipping toward the horizon, the light was dim in the chamber, so she lit a candle to see by.

It did little to dispel the shadows that clung to the room like cobwebs, but it would do.

Isolde rifled through Struan’s drawers until she found a clean sheet of parchment, quill, and inkpot.

Her nerves were far from steady, but she picked up the quill and began to write…

Struan,

Before I say anythin’, I want ye tae ken how much I appreciate all ye’ve done fer me. Ye’ve protected me and kept me safe in me greatest time of need. Even when ye had nay reason tae, ye gave me yer word and ye held true tae it. Fer that, I’m grateful now and always will be.

I ken ye said I dinnae need tae apologize, but I will say it again anyway. I’m sorry fer nae tellin’ ye where Finlay was bein’ kept sooner. One thing I’ve learned in me time here is just how close ye and yer family are, which has made me feel even worse about it.

If ‘tis of any aid, in the woods behind the northern curtain wall of Cluny House, there’s an entrance tae a tunnel that will lead ye intae the keep. I learned about it while I was there. If ye use that tunnel, ye should be able get in and get Finlay out without bein’ detected.

I want ye tae ken I’m grateful fer ye lettin’ me stay here.

I’d be lyin’ tae ye if I said there wasnae a big part of me that wanted tae stay forever, with ye.

But me continued presence here puts ye and yer family in danger, and I cannae allow that.

I ken ye’d argue the point with me, which is why I have tae leave this way.

I care for ye and I truly wish we had a life where we could be free tae be taegether. I wish we lived in a time and place where ye could choose tae be with me because ye want me rather than marry me out of some misguided notion that it’ll keep me safe from me faither.

All me love,

Isolde

Isolde sat with Ewan, Mairi, and Struan at the table in the family dining hall.

The walls were covered in dark wood paneling and an oversized fireplace sat at the far end of the hall filling the room with a pleasant heat.

Paintings of their forebears lined the walls along with weapons and Clan Cameron’s coat of arms. It was small and intimate.

The way everybody was laughing and spoke warmly with one another made it feel downright cozy. They were obviously a family.

“Ye’ll have tae forgive me braither, he’s a little too proud of his body,” Mairi said with a laugh. “He preens around like a peacock, he daes, thinkin’ he’s been made in the shape of one of the Greek gods.”

Laughter rippled around the table. Struan had shared the story of their travels there and how embarrassed she’d been when he’d stripped down to bathe in the loch. Just the memory of it sent a flash of warmth into her cheeks.

Struan shrugged. “There’s naethin’ wrong with bein’ proud of me body.”

“Nay. There’s nothin’ wrong with it. But the rest of us dinnae need tae see it,” Mairi teased.

“’Tis true,” Ewan added. “Ye dae like tae run around half-naked as often as ye can.”

“I like the feel of the air on me skin.”

That set off another round of laughter and teasing. Isolde listened and she laughed along with them. She appreciated them trying to keep the mood light and the atmosphere fun. But her heart was far too heavy with the knowledge of what she would be doing, to truly feel it along with them.

The conversation was lively throughout their meal.

“All right, I’m goin’ tae bed,” Mairi said as she stood up some time later. “I thank ye all fer such a lovely evenin’. And I shall see ye all in the mornin’.”

Ewan soon followed her out, leaving Isolde alone with Struan. The sound of the fire crackling filled the otherwise silent hall, and its light glittered in his wild gray eyes as he looked at her over the rim of his cup as he drank. Isolde turned away, unable to meet his gaze.

“I should go tae bed,” she said.

Struan set his cup down and nodded. “Aye. I’ll walk ye back tae yer chamber.”

A small smile curled the corners of Isolde’s mouth. It was sweet and made her heart flutter. As the household staff bustled in and began clearing the table, Isolde got to her feet and led him out of the hall. They walked through the corridors in silence.

“Ye’ve been quiet tonight,” he said, clearly unwilling to let her go in silence.

“I’m… tired,” she replied.

He nodded as if he understood. “Mairi said she kept ye busy.”

She flashed him a wry grin. “Aye. That she did,” Isolde agreed. “She showed me all around the castle and grounds. And we had a lovely lunch together. I’m quite fond of her.”

“She seems quite fond of ye as well.”

They passed the door to the hall that held the hidden passage.

She tried to keep herself from looking at it, but Isolde’s eyes felt drawn to it anyway.

She cut a quick glance at it, then felt Struan’s gaze on her, so she forced her gaze away from it and stared straight ahead.

They finally made it to her chamber door, and she turned to him, putting a smile on her face she knew didn’t reach her eyes.

“Thank ye fer walkin’ me back,” she said.

He nodded. “Of course,” he replied. “So, I’ll see ye in the mornin’?”

“Aye. In the mornin’.”

“Perhaps after our noon meal, we can take a walk,” he said gently. “I think we should talk.”

Isolde swallowed hard and nodded. “Aye. That’d be nice.”

The lie slipped from her lips so easily, Isolde felt her cheeks burning in shame. Struan’s eyes lingered on hers for a long moment, as if he could hear the lie in her words. But instead of calling her out on it, he nodded.

“Well, see ye tomorrow,” he said.

“Aye. I’ll see ye in the mornin’.”

He continued to stand before her, looking deeply into her eyes as the energy between them crackled with an intensity that raised goosebumps all over Isolde’s body.

She wanted to invite him in. Wanted to give herself to him one more time, but she knew doing that would only make things more complicated and difficult than they already were.

“Goodnight,” she said softly.

“Aye. Goodnight.”

Isolde’s eyes lingered on him a moment longer, as if she was trying to burn the image of Struan into her memory forever.

With a nod, she forced herself to turn away and slipped into her bedchamber, closing the door behind her.

Isolde’s heart was thundering in her ears, as she turned and pressed her back against the door, trying to quell the waves of pain and grief that battered her.

In some ways, it felt like she was leaving part of herself behind to die and was mourning the loss.

Isolde hadn’t bothered to undress. She’d simply laid down on her bed and stared up at the ceiling, her pulse racing, and a wild energy churning in her belly.

She waited until the small hours, expecting that by the time she swung her legs over the edge of the bed and got to her feet, everybody in Achnacarry would be asleep.

There were night sentries, of course, but with the secret passageway Mairi had shown her, Isolde didn’t expect to run into any of them since their attention would be focused on the gates at that time of the night.

Isolde pulled her pack out from beneath the bed and checked all the contents inside—everything she’d brought with her. It wasn’t much but it would suffice for a few days. Long enough for her to put some distance between her and Achnacarry.

Perhaps once she got someplace safe, she would send a missive to her father to draw his attention away from Struan’s lands and set him to pursuing her again, rather than focusing on destroying Struan and his clan. She didn’t know if it would work, but it was all she could do.

She tied her pack and hefted it over her shoulders. After getting it settled, she grabbed her cloak from the peg by the door and slipped it on as well. Isolde put her hand on the door and took a calm, steadying breath.

“Courage, lass,” she said to herself. “Courage.”

The door squeaked sharply as it opened, the sound echoing around the stone walls of the corridor.

She winced and stepped out, looking left and right.

The hallway remained clear. Moving as quickly and quietly as she could, Isolde darted through the winding corridors and stepped into the hall Mairi had shown her.

It was cold and dark inside. Empty. She stepped over to the familiar tapestry beside the portrait of Rhona and felt a quiver run through her heart.

She stared at the rich, woven cloth for a long moment, trying to quell the torrent of questions that reverberated through her mind.

There was part of her that wanted to stay, to be with Struan.

And it screamed loudly in her head right now, trying to convince her that she’d found a home.

Another part of her mind, the logical one, argued the opposite.

Her hand trembled as she pushed the tapestry aside and reached into the hollow.

Not giving her mind a chance to sabotage her any further, she pulled the lever.

The click of the latch popping and the scrape of stone as the secret door opened seemed impossibly loud in the silence.

Fear, thick and warm, flowed through her veins and she felt herself wavering.

“Tis now or never,” she whispered to herself.

Swallowing the hard lump that had risen in her throat, Isolde stepped toward the darkness of the opening.

Before she could reach the stairs though, she was pulled backward and a hand clamped over her mouth.

Her scream was muffled, and she squirmed in the grasp of her unseen attacker.

Isolde thrashed and fought for all she was worth, but the arm around her waist and the hand over her mouth held her fast.

“Quiet, lass,” said a deep, gruff voice behind her.

Tears spilled from the corners of eyes that had grown wider than saucers as a bright bolt of fear exploded inside of her.