He shook a finger at her across the fire. “Regardless of what it brought me, I had the right to decide for myself. Now tell me what she said.” He shook his head.
“And how in God’s name did you get to speak with her? You told me there were guards at the door. And why? Why did you see her?”
“To promise her I would keep her son safe from harm if someday she ever wished to return for him.”
Cullen’s eyes turned wide. “That’s why she had insisted Alexander was alive. She knew what you had done.”
“That was all she knew, and she had agreed that she should know no more. If questioned for any reason, she’d be able to speak truthfully and never fear bringing harm to her son.”
“You didn’t tell her your name?”
Sara shook her head. “I simply informed her that her son was safe and would remain so until she came to claim him.”
“And Alaina said to you?”
Sara hesitated.
“Tell me. Please, I must know.”
Feeling his ache as if it were her own, Sara nodded and spoke Alaina’s words. “She said, ‘I will return for my son.’”
The impact of her words hit Cullen like an arrow to the heart and dropped him to his blanket. Sara stood and walked around the fire to join him. She sat beside him, her arm going around his slumped shoulders.
“I had but a few moments with Alaina. My concern was that she knew her son would be safe. There was no time for more since I arranged for the guard and the sister who normally tended her to go on separate fool’s errands. The timing had to be perfect and I had to be gone before they returned. I couldn’t take the chance of being discovered there. After all, I was the one who buried the babe, and I didn’t want to cast doubt on the situation.”
“Again you took a chance with your life, and this time for Alaina.”
“It tore at my heart to think that the child’s mother would forever think her son dead. It wasn’t fair, and I couldn’t allow her to suffer when I had it in my power to ease her pain and give her hope of one day reuniting with him. It was the right thing to do.”
Cullen took hold of her hand and squeezed tight. “You did right by my son and Alaina. I will do right by you.”
“You have,” she assured him. “You wed me.”
“But I haven’t protected you.”
“I have no problem in seeing to my own safety.”
“You have me now to see to that,” he said adamantly.
“For now I do, and I appreciate it.”
“I promise you that I will see you safe before I leave you.”
Leave you.
The two words rang loud and clear in her head. He would leave her, and once again she would be alone, and that was all right; after all, it had been their agreement. She couldn’t ask for more.
Unfortunately, over the last few days she had grown accustomed to having a husband, and a good one at that. She had even allowed her mind to wander now and again, but only for a very short time, thinking on what it would be like if she went to America with Cullen and Alexander and was able to be a true wife and mother.
It was a foolish dream, no more, and she didn’t linger long in the foolishness. It hurt much too much to spend time in such nonsense. Her destiny was here in Scotland, and his was in America. That was why she didn’t want this ruse to go any further. It would pain her too much to say good-bye. She preferred he remained a stranger, though she had grown to know him enough that he could never be a stranger to her.
“I mean what I say,” Cullen said, squeezing her hand.
She nodded, knowing he did, which was what caused her heart to hurt a little more. “I know and I thank you.”
She attempted to stand, but he held her firm.
“Stay,” he said softly.
“I am tired and need sleep—”
“Sleep with me.”
Her eyes rounded.
He shook his head. “I just want to hold you next to me.”
He didn’t want to be alone, and neither did she.
“Let me get my blanket,” she said.
He stayed her with a soft touch. “No, stay, I’ll get it.”
As soon as the blankets were settled, he took her in his arms and together they stretched out beside the fire, Sara closer to the warmth, since the air had chilled considerably, and Cullen’s arms tight around her.
“Thank you for giving my Alaina peace,” he whispered in her ear, and gently kissed her temple.
A response wasn’t necessary, and she didn’t know if she could speak if she wanted to. A lump had lodged in her throat, threatening tears if it remained as it was—a hurtful pain.
She did what she had done since she was a child, chasing the pain away with fanciful dreams. Dreams could produce magic for her. She would think of wonderful things that she could do, and more often than not she had found a way of doing them, like learning to ride better than most men or crafting a special bow for herself.