Page 74 of His Forgotten Highland Bride

Ronan cocked a crooked smile at her. “Aye. I believe you are right.”

“No! She is not right.” Hannah came to stand before them. “What reason do I have to be unhappy? I can have any man I want.”

Ronan tilted his head. “I believe we both know that isn’t true.”

Hannah shrieked and turned for the carriage, slipping in a bit of horse dung but catching herself before she fell. Muttering curses, she removed her fancy slipper and threw it at the gathering crowd. She hoisted herself into the carriage and reached for the retainer, who’d snickered.

Without so much as a wave from the window, the conveyance lurched into movement and passed through the raised gate.

“I’m proud of you, wife.”

“I finally saw through the mask she wears.”

He pulled her closer and whispered, “I’m sorry.”

Those words, spoken with genuine sympathy, were for the loss of a sister Brenna never really had.

“I have set a few maids to change our room’s bedding. Let us get some sleep for tomorrow, as there is much to do.” They had a wedding to plan—a real one, Brenna hoped, that would lead to love and happiness for her guard.

With Hannah gone, Brenna breathed in and allowed the tension to fade away like a toxic mist suffocating her most of her life. She was ready to step out of the shadows.