God, let him be safe, she prayed. Let him be alive.
The vast loneliness closed over her until she no longer knew how she would go through with this marriage. The idea of living each day with a man who did not desire her, or worse, having to endure his touch in order to conceive a child that he wanted, was like drowning. She didn’t know if she could do it.
She returned to her mare and removed Callum’s bow and quiver. The weight of the weapon was balanced, and as her fingers curved across the wood, she could sense his presence and strength. When she tried to pull back the bowstring, it was so taut, she couldn’t draw it further than a few inches. She fitted one of his arrows to the bowstring, wondering if she could manage a shot.
“Were you wanting a lesson?” came a deep voice from behind her.
The bow fell from her hands, and she saw Callum standing a few paces away. Heedless of anything else, she flew into his arms, gripping him tightly. Behind him were his brothers, who watched over them for a moment, before retreating into the shadows.
“You’re alive,” she breathed, lifting her mouth to his. The kiss of welcome was a merging of thankfulness, a sudden rush of joy mingled with tears.
“Are you well?” she asked, pulling back to look at him. His face looked as if he hadn’t slept in the past few days, but there were no outward signs of suffering.
His hands threaded into her hair, lifting her face up. Touching his forehead to hers, he said, “I came to take you back with me, Marguerite.”
She closed her eyes, filling up her senses with him. The sound of his voice, so rare in the past, was dear to her. It had grown stronger, more fluent, in only a few days.
In his arms, she became whole again, and the promises she’d made to the earl no longer held any weight. The desire to leave everything behind, to be with this man, was all she wanted.
“If I go,” she murmured, “I’ll never see my family again, will I?” She lifted her eyes to his and saw him nod. At one time, the knowledge had kept her from being with him, for she’d wanted both. She’d wanted to keep her father’s love, remaining a beloved daughter in his eyes. And she’d wanted the man he would never approve of.
Now, she knew the truth. There was only the choice of one or the other.
“Will you love me enough, since I won’t have a family anymore?” she whispered.
“Until the last breath leaves my body.” He gripped her so hard, she no longer knew where he ended and she began.
“Good.” She smiled and took his hand in hers. He picked up the fallen bow and slung the quiver over one shoulder. With her palm enveloped by his, she had no doubt that she had made the right decision. There could be no other.
He lifted her on to her horse and swung up behind her. His brothers joined them on either side, and Marguerite greeted them. Although Bram and Alex were friendly enough, she sensed the tension.
Then Dougal came running toward them from the trees. Though the adolescent boy tried to put on a brave face, she saw the fear haunting his eyes. “They’re coming for her.”
At his words, dread sank within her veins. The earl had told her father. Or perhaps he’d sensed the truth and had brought his own men.
“Who?” Callum demanded, drawing an arrow from his quiver.
“Dozens of soldiers. If we don’t let her go, they’ll kill us all.”
In his arms, Callum could feel the sudden change in her. Her head lowered, and her hands reached for his.
“I should have known,” she whispered. “The earl won’t let me break the promise.”
Callum spurred the horse hard, riding north as fast as the animal would carry them. His brothers followed, Dougal hurrying to catch up. If there was an army, it was doubtful that they’d succeed in outrunning them—especially not with both of them sharing a horse. But he had to try.
“I won’t give you up,” he said against her ear. She leaned forward, holding on to the horse, but he could feel her fear deepening.
When they cleared the forest, he started to change their direction east. Behind him, he heard the sound of horses approaching. Stealing a glance, he saw at least thirty men on horseback, riding hard.
His brother Alex came up beside him, raising his voice against the wind. “Callum, they’re going to overtake us.”
He ignored the words, trying to increase the pace of their horse. But Marguerite’s mare was older, a gentle mount who was unaccustomed to such speed. She was struggling to obey, and he knew that it was only a matter of time before they lost their lead.
Bram dropped back, and he understood that his brother was offering to grant him time. To fight the men and do what he could to slow them down. But if he chose this battle, it was far too grave a risk. He would die in the effort, leaving behind his wife Nairna, who was expecting a bairn.
Callum expelled a curse. When the horse reached the hilly terrain, he pulled the mare to a stop. Her breathing was labored, her flanks slick with sweat.
Marguerite went so still and quiet, he sensed what she was going to say. His arms closed around her in an embrace that went beyond words. He needed her to know that if they stood their ground, he would rather die at her side than live thousands of days without her.
