The Highlander's Forbidden Bride(66)
“Damn,” Carissa said, plopping down on the narrow bed in the cottage. Just this morning, when she woke in Ronan’s arms, for a brief time, she had thought that there would be many similar mornings to follow. Then, in an instant, her hopes and dreams were gone.
She knew she had asked for just one night of love with him, but having sampled it, she realized she wanted more, so much more.
“Idiot,” she scolded herself, and fell back on the bed. “He’s a Highlander, and that was clearly defined for you when you saw him in his plaid.”
She sighed. He looked so good, so handsome, and so courageous. And then he apologized. No one had ever apologized to her, not ever. It had shocked her to hear him say it, and he went and said it again in regards to her clothes.
“Damn,” she repeated. “Why couldn’t he simply love me?”
No one loves you, Carissa. Remember that, no one.
Her father had repeatedly reminded her of that, yet somehow she had managed to hold on to the hope that she’d be loved. She always believed that her mother had instilled that hope in her. Even though her mother was just a slim shadow in her memory, she believed that it was because of her love that she was able to survive her father’s cruelty.
There was a knock at the door, and she jumped off the bed, thinking that perhaps Ronan had returned. But Dykar stood there, and he didn’t look happy.
“Septimus needs to speak with you.”
She grabbed her cloak and ordered Dykar to leave first. She would meet him in one of the designated spots they had agreed upon once she was certain no one followed her.
She smiled, for her it would be simple to sneak off. She had learned how when she was young and had sharpened her skill through the years. She’d have no trouble slipping out of sight of the guards. Of course, there was always a chance of being caught, and there would be consequences to face, but there was no point in concerning herself with something that might never be. She needed to see to this matter, then…
She prayed that bath would be ready.
Ronan rejoined his family, taking part in the morning meal, and realized that a decisive tension filled the air. Conversation was limited, and it was obvious that the laird and his wife were not on good speaking terms, since Honora got up in the middle of the meal and left.
Cavan followed shortly after, and the others took their leave one by one to see to their respective tasks until only he, his mother, and Hagen remained.
Ronan turned to the one woman he had and would always trust, and who he could count on always to be honest with him.
“What do you think of Carissa?” he asked Addie.
“I would like time to get to know her,” Addie replied.
“She’s an excellent cook,” Ronan said with pride.
“That she is,” Hagen agreed with a grin.
Addie frowned and shook her head.
“You don’t like her?” Ronan asked, upset.
“It isn’t that,” Addie said, and thought a moment. “There’s something alarmingly familiar about her, and I can’t place what it is.”
“How could that be? You’ve never met her,” Ronan said.
“True, but I feel as if I have,” his mother said with a confused shake of her head.
“She may remind you of someone,” Hagen suggested.
“The question is who?” Addie tapped her head as if trying to force the answer.
Hagen took hold of her hand. “We will go for a walk and talk about it and see what sparks your memory.”
Ronan’s shoulders slumped. He wanted to speak with his mother, but he didn’t want to keep her from what appeared to be the man she adored. He was glad for her, but he needed her at that moment.
Addie slipped her hand from Hagen’s and patted his face. “We will take a walk later. Right now I’d like to speak with my son.”
Hagen nodded. “Just let me know when you’re ready.”
Addie leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”
She turned to Ronan when the door closed behind Hagen. “I never thought I would love again after losing your father. I didn’t think it was possible. I loved your father so very much, I could never imagine loving another with the same intensity.”
Ronan remained silent, listening.
“Then Hagen smiled at me.” She laughed. “Can you imagine, just a smile and I felt something in my heart flutter. He is different from your father, and yet…” She shook her head. “I found myself falling in love with him.” She laughed again. “He’s a gentle giant, where your father was much like Cavan.” She took her son’s hand. “We can’t dictate love. We can’t ignore it. We can’t beg for it. But we can recognize it and embrace it when it finds us, no matter how crazy it may seem.”