“He punished me when I gave up fighting. He even threatened to share me with the men he’d brought back with him from England.”
The same men who had brutalized Robena the night before the wedding, he thought.
“And over and over he told me that this would be my fate with him. To be taken as he wanted, to be beaten at his whim, to be shared whenever I did not please him. Until parted by death, he said. Just like in our vows. Until parted by death.”
His forehead was clammy with sweat and he sat up. His stomach rolled and lurched now, sickened almost beyond his control. He would have killed Sandy dozens of times over if he’d been alive. For Anice, for Robena. How could Struan have stood by and let this happen?
“Firtha found me the next morning when Sandy left the room and called Moira and Struan. Moira saved my life, but Idid not want to live, facing that kind of hellish existence with him. So, a few days after that I decided that I would separate us by death and I cut my own wrists.”
He could not help the gasp that was torn from him by her words. Dear God in heaven, she had tried to end her own life? That was the gravest sin a soul could commit. The church even taught that it was worse in the eyes of God than killing someone else. Killing could be justified in many circumstances, but not taking one’s own life. Those who committed suicide were buried in unblessed ground, exiled for eternity from all who they loved in life.
And his monster-brother had driven this innocent young girl to such a fate. He hoped Sandy was burning in the everlasting fires of hell right now for all the destruction he caused during his life.
“Firtha found me again, but it was only when Struan pledged his protection of me that I decided to try to live. Those weeks are cloaked in darkness for me; I do not remember much of them at all.”
She took a long deep breath in and let it out slowly. He could not breathe easily.
“’Twas when I found out that I was with child that I grasped at life and tried to function once more within the clan. But the carrying was more difficult. Moira said the damage he caused inside me was to blame for the hard pregnancy.”
Robert immediately thought of what Sandy’s damage had done to Robena as well. He could only imagine, nay, he could not even begin to imagine what his brother had done or why. Another wave of cold sweat poured over him and he got to his feet, knowing what was about to happen.
“You needed to know the truth of why I can never marry again. I have never been able to bring myself to confess my sin and I could not in good conscience enter into marriage with a man who did not know the truth. The most frightening thing to me even now is that I know that I would rather end my life than go through that horror again.”
He pushed open the thin wooden door and ran out into the still-raging storm. The sting of the frigid downpour could not calm his rage. He ran until he could run no more and then bentover and vomited up the contents of his stomach. The dry heaving continued for many minutes until he could no longer stand. He sank to his knees in the mud and waited for his body’s reaction to Anice’s words to cease.
Soon he could breathe again and he sat back on his heels, allowing the rain to stream over him. Drenched through to the skin, he felt the biting drops and the weight of his plaid as it sopped up the moisture, but he could not gather enough strength to take cover.
Anice’s description of Sandy’s behavior and attack had seared him. Unwilling to hear it and unable to ignore her voice, Robert could sense the desperation that she felt. It was not so much in her words as in the complete lack of emotion. She recited the events of her wedding night as though she’d watched it happen to another person and had not suffered the blows delivered by her husband.
His brother.
A shiver wracked his body, whether caused by the rain or the horror, he did not know. And what could he do now that he knew? Could he return her as he’d planned to when he first found her? Although he knew that Angus MacLaren was a decent man and that no one spit on the ground and crossed themselves when his name was mentioned, he realized that was not enough to bring Anice any sense of security for her future. And, could he take her back knowing it was to give her to another?
Robert leaned his face up and let the rain wash over it once more. Filling his mouth and spitting out the vile taste within it, he rose to his feet and tried to gauge his location. He’d run along the muddy trail, so he began the walk back to the croft. The storm lessened as he trudged slowly, following the path in the darkness, and when he reached the small hut, the rain had lessened to a drizzle. He unwrapped his plaid and wrung out as much of the water as he could. Hanging it over the ledge of one of the windows, he tugged the sodden shirt over his head and did the same. Trying to be as quiet as possible, he opened the door and crept to the pile of wool he’d left on the floor.
He wrapped himself in one of the covers and lay on hisback listening to the sounds of the night return as the storm moved on through the glen. Rain dripping from trees into puddles, the cries of the birds of night echoing in the air, and the soft snoring of mother and child filled the croft. He thought over his choices. He actually had none—he had no place in this decision to barter her off to another clan for property and power. By the laws of God and king, her father could do as he wanted with her now that she was free from her marriage. And Struan was within his rights as laird of the MacKendimens to keep his grandson and heir with him when she left.
But knowing they could do this did not diminish his own belief that it was wrong. If not the deed, then the timing of it. He felt certain that if given enough time, Anice could reconcile herself to marrying again. Many women did after becoming widows; even her maid and friend Firtha had. With sufficient time to adjust and to witness the good marriages around her and to familiarize herself with the man who would marry her, Anice could tame her fears.
Time, however, was the one thing Anice did not have. He knew that once she and the bairn were known to be missing, Struan would have men searching for her. He would send to the summer shielings in the grazing lands, he would search all of Dunnedin and the surrounding areas, and he would send messengers out to his allies with word of her disappearance. Robert was certain that those messages would reach the MacKillop before he did.
Turning to his side, he tried to fall asleep even as his thoughts still churned away in his mind. The one thought that seemed to dominate was that he had no standing in this. His obligation was to return her to her clan and their decision of her future. Complicating that clear duty was the knowledge that she had lost all bargaining power she might have had with this rash move. Even as he suggested she negotiate with Struan to keep her son, he knew that it would not happen now. Craig would be stripped from her and given to some other woman to care for and Anice would be taken, forcibly if needed, back to her father—all for defying those who had the right to control her life.
And, if her words were true, that would send her back tothe only option she thought she had. She’d tried once to end her life and he doubted not that she would try again. Especially, he thought, if her son was taken from her. He shuddered at such a sin. How could he bear it, knowing he’d brought her to it? Letting out a long frustrated breath, he searched his mind for a way to help her. He knew he was the only one who could. But how? How could he get her out of this situation with her life and her ties to her son intact?
19
The soft voice and loving words sounded like a song. He smiled, still in that time between awake and asleep, and listened, without letting her know, as Anice talked to her son. There were no words he recognized in what she said, but the babe did not seem to mind. Craig focused on her mouth as though he understood every sound she made. Then the croft was filled with his laughter; small giggles shook the babe’s body and made Robert want to laugh with him. Anice just smiled and leaned down to kiss Craig’s forehead. When she looked up, their gazes locked.
The nasty bruise drew his attention—its color and shape lessened since yesterday, but it must still have been painful. Set on her white skin, it increased the paleness of her complexion. His gaze drifted over her face and neck and down to the opening in her blouse. It was obvious she’d been nursing her son for the laces were loose and it hung down on one shoulder, exposing more than that to him. Startled by a burp from the babe, he looked up and saw that she noticed where his eyes had been looking. She tugged on the laces, bringing the edges of the blouse together and removing that creamy shoulder and breast from his inspection.
Clearing his throat, he sat up, ready to apologize for his wayward glance. His body had reacted quickly and he dared not stand up for fear of exposing himself to her. Settling the folds of the plaid more securely over certain places, he nodded a greeting to her.
“I hope we did not wake you, Robert. Craig is at his most pleasant in the morn.” Her voice was light, but no smile filled her face now.
“Och, nay. I rarely sleep past dawn. ’Twas the light of day that woke me.” He looked around for his saddlebags and a shirt, but could not find them. And he did not want to rise in the condition he found himself in now.
“Here, Rob,” she said as she stood up in front of him. Limping slightly, she took a few steps to the small table and handed him his bag. “You still have two clean shirts in there.”
