Chapter 4
Nora awoke blinking as golden strands of sunlight poured in through the window, caressing her eyes.
She rubbed her face and yawned as she pushed herself into a sitting position.
For a moment she was disoriented, but then quickly remembered where she was and what happened.
Nora felt better for having rested and was hopeful that the day might end with her being where she belonged, even if it wasn’t entirely where she desired.
As she rose from the bed she pulled the blankets neatly across the mattress, leaving it in a better state than when she found it.
Then, she smoothed down her dress and adjusted it as it had gotten tangled around her body.
She ran her hands along her breasts, waist, and thighs, trying to ease all the creases out of the material.
It was hardly the image she wanted to present of herself when she met Laird MacPherson, but it would just have to do.
After this, she ran her fingers through her thick hair, making it tumble in waves. Her fingers got caught on a few knots, but she assumed that Callan would not have a hairbrush on hand.
In fact, looking around, he did not seem to have much of anything.
There was a dresser, but it would have been wrong of her to snoop.
Instead, she exited the room and found a plate of meat leftover from last night waiting for her.
The scent of ash drifted from the fireplace, and the sheepskin blanket lay strewn across the floor, a sign of where Callan had lain.
Nora sighed and shook her head. Did any men know how to clean up after themselves?
She picked up the blanket and placed it over the chair, but as she did so it came close to her nose, and she inhaled the musky scent of Callan.
It quite overwhelmed her and she couldn’t resist bringing the blanket even closer, wanting to experience this scent that was wholly new to her.
She buried her face in the blanket and drank the scent in deeply, finding it warm and comforting, but something else as well, as though it had an edge that threatened to peel away her innocence.
Nora heard movement outside and threw the blanket hurriedly on the chair, not wanting to be caught doing something so embarrassing.
Unable to resist her hunger, she picked at the meat and chewed eagerly, gulping it down before she ventured outside.
She assumed she would need her strength as it would be a long walk to the village.
However, as soon as she met the crisp morning air she was faced with a remarkable surprise.
Callan was standing beside a horse, allowing it to munch on a fruit that was quickly demolished.
He petted the mane and the horse leaned into him, seeming to be quite comfortable, but Nora was entirely confused.
“That’s one of the horses from the carriage,” she said, recognizing the patch of white fur on the horse’s right flank, as well as the golden-brown hide.
Callan grinned. “For a lass who was blindfolded ye hae good vision,” he said.
“I wasn’t blindfolded when the carriage arrived,” she replied in a biting tone, her brow knotting as she sensed that something was amiss, although she wasn’t entirely sure what. “How hae it come tae be here?”
Callan shrugged and arched his eyebrows.
“I dinnae ken. I just heard it snuffling around when I was on my way back last night. Thought it would be useful. Maybe it followed yer scent. Who kens what drives the mind of an animal,” he said.
“It’ll certainly hasten our journey tae the village.
Look at that, I happened tae come across yer path at the right moment, and now this horse finds ye as well.
I think ye might just be the luckiest lass in the Highlands,” he said.
Nora wasn’t sure about that, but she supposed she shouldn’t question good fortune when it arrived, especially because it was likely to be fleeting.
“Then we should be able to return it to its rightful owner,” she said, hoping that Callan didn’t believe he would be able to keep it.
However, as she uttered these words a troubling thought arose in her mind.
She was like the horse. Would MacPherson be more of an owner or a husband?
Callan’s vehement reaction to the man’s name was foreboding, but she had to hope that MacPherson might treat her with kindness.
Perhaps her own compassionate nature might be able to sway his behavior as well, and she could improve things for all those who suffered.
“Well, lass, are ye ready?” Callan asked.
He held out his hand. Nora nodded and took it, feeling the iron strength in his grip as she was lifted upon the horse. Then, he went to mount the horse as well and she suddenly felt uneasy.
“What are ye daeing?” she asked.
Callan arched an eyebrow. “There’s only one horse, lass. I can walk beside if ye want, but I cannae match the pace of a horse sae it’s gaeing tae take longer. And I hate tae think what it will dae tae my boots. Perhaps yer husband can replace them,” he said.
Nora considered the matter. If they had to go at walking pace it practically defeated the purpose of using a horse, so Nora inclined her head, giving him permission to mount the horse.
A powerful leg was swung behind her and his body came to rest, just as it had been when he had pulled her from the carriage.
Suddenly she was enveloped in warmth and his hard body pressed against her back again.
His arms reached around, squeezing her waist as his fingers gripped the reins.
His breath burned the back of her neck. The steady thrum of his heart hammered against her back, and she started to mistake it for her own.
It started to overwhelm and intoxicate her.
She closed her eyes, trying to steady the tumultuous thoughts, but it only made it more difficult.
Thrum, thrum, thrum, it swept through her body, capturing every part of her.
Something threatened to snap in the very core of her and she wondered how she was going to endure the entire ride.
The world that passed beside her was little more than a blur, while the rhythm of the horse’s movements only served to bring their bodies closer together.
Even though there was nothing intimate about this, she couldn’t help but feel as though she was betraying the vows she had not yet made and that she was betraying something precious inside her.
“Well, here we are,” Callan eventually said as they approached the village.
Nora opened her eyes, having been repeating prayers in her mind for the duration of the journey. These had just about kept her sane. However, when she opened her eyes all of those troublesome thoughts melted away.
The village was a mess.
It was an ugly word, but there was no other way to describe it.
The road that led into the village was muddy and marked with holes and divots.
It continued like this throughout the village, where broken posts leaned awkwardly and wooden panels hung limply from fences.
A cart was beside the well, its rear wheels missing.
The houses were ramshackle and weeds crawled along the ground, as though they were just biding their time until they could engulf the village completely.
The people weren’t much different. There was a single inn, from which the sign had fallen.
Men sat at benches outside, drinking methodically, without thought.
Children were nearby, watching with hollow eyes, as though they knew nothing of joy.
Beggars sat in abandoned doorways, toes poking out of worn boots, tattered hats askew on their beleaguered heads.
“Well, this is it lass, one of MacPherson’s prosperous villages. Dae ye still think he deserves tae live on all his estates? Imagine what he could dae if he gave just one of them up?” Callan said as he slipped off the horse.
Nora didn’t offer a reply. What could she say? The sight of this village struck a chord in her heart and she almost wanted to weep. A heavy sense of sorrow settled upon her, making her feel leaden and morose.
If MacPherson treated his villages like this, then how would he treat his wife?
“Perhaps I can make things better for them,” she said in a low voice.
“Aye, lass, ye can try,” Callan replied, although he did not seem convinced about the chances of her success.
He led Nora and the horse to the inn, where he tied the horse to a hitching post. A few of the patrons cast idle looks in their direction, perhaps wondering why anyone would stop in this forsaken place.
Nora took a seat at the table. The chair creaked as she sat down, and the table was rickety.
Callan joined her moments later with two mugs of frothy ale.
Nora took a sip and winced. The taste was bitter and the liquid was so bubbly it seemed to leap about her mouth as though tiny frogs were contained within the bubbles.
Callan chuckled. “It’s an acquired taste,” he said. “Sae, are ye sure ye still want tae find MacPherson?”
“I must. It’s the only place I hae tae gae. My clan is counting on me,” she said.
“Aye, well, I’m sure it will nae be long before some guards pass through. I’m sure they’ll be happy tae take ye tae him. Sae what is gaeing tae happen tae yer clan once ye are married? It’s nae as bad as this place, is it?” Callan asked.
“It will be strengthened by an alliance, protected by MacPherson’s men, and benefit from a shared economy.
There hae been some… unwise investments and the clan hae accumulated some debt,” she said, for some reason unbeknownst to her she wanted to protect her brother’s dignity, not that he showed her the same kindness.
Callan leaned back with a knowing smile. “Ach, I see, well, I dinnae think MacPherson will share his economy, but I suppose some miracles dae happen. Sae, yer parents are trading ye for the future prosperity of a clan. Well, I suppose we all hae our uses.”