Page 46 of The Highlander’s Gypsy Temptation

“No, that’s not true,” she shook her head vehemently. Idalia knew her actions must seem strange to the women. She could see the looks of confusion they shared among themselves, and she did not blame them. They did not know what had transpired between her and Bran. They did not know the feelings they had for each other, neither did they know the promise he had made to her in the dead of night.

Idalia glared at the maids who were approaching her to take off her clothes and usher her into the bath that was beginning to grow cold. She knew it was no fault of theirs, as they were only doing what they were commanded to do, but she did not need to have a bath just then. She only needed to see Bran and figure out why she was still about to marry Andrew, after all that had been agreed upon.

She made a dash for the door, heading towards his chambers, only to find Dunn coming from there. She stopped in front of him when he held out a hand to her.

“Idalia, what are ye doing out here? Should ye nae be getting ready for the ceremony right now?” he asked her, his face breaking into a warm smile.

“Have you seen Bran?” she asked, completely ignoring his question.

“Ah, well I came to see if I could get him tae come out. Even though he has mixed feelings, he should nae sit his brother’s wedding out, especially since he was the one who asked that ye and Andrew go ahead with it instead of him. He should be willing tae face his decisions, for the sake of his brother if nothing else.”

“I don’t think he is in there,” Idalia said. Dunn looked at her with raised brows and murmured something she could not quite catch, then he opened the door. Idalia walked closer and peeped in, nodding when she realized Bran was in fact not in the room. There were no signs he had slept there the night before or even returned there any time after.

Idalia tensed as Dunn narrowed his eyes at her. She knew he had figured out what had transpired, and she waited quietly for him to say something. Yet he kept his mouth shut, choosing only to stare at her.

“He is not there, something must have happened to him,” she said after a moment of silence, not knowing what else to say.

“Maybe he is throwing knives again in the yard,” Dunn shrugged as he spoke, though Idalia caught the pensive look before he masked it.

“I am worried.” Although her worries might have seemed unnecessary to some, Idalia knew that Bran would not go back on his word so easily, not after all that had happened. And even if he had chosen to do so, his honor would have him telling her first instead of simply running off somewhere to hide while she worried about the outcome of the ceremony and what was to become of her.

They traced their steps back towards her room, their eyes peeled for any sign of where Bran might have gone, when Dunn stopped her and pointed at what looked like boot marks. Idalia hurried closer, and sure enough, the floor was caked with dirt.

“Look, there are multiple footprints,” she said after studying them for a while. “These were not here before, and judging from the patterns on the floor, it looks like there was a scuffle.”

Dunn bent beside her and studied the prints before nodding. “Ye are right. There appear tae be multiple prints.” He got up and followed the steps outside, Idalia trailing behind him, eager to know what he could make of them.

She gasped when they reached the garden. The flowers had been tampered with and were withered on one end. It looked like something had been dragged along the garden towards the back wall of the castle. As they paid more attention, it was clear that it was a pair of feet that had been dragged.

“Ye might be right, Idalia, unfortunately, ye might be right.” Dunn moved closer to the back, and Idalia could feel her heart beating loudly in her chest. She did not want to be right. She wished they had gone up to his room and found him sound asleep. Anything was better than what she believed must have happened.

Had August sent men after them? Her hand covered her mouth when she realized it was possible that they might have been followed all this time but had not taken note of it.

Idalia stifled the wail threatening to come out of her mouth. Her whole body began shaking uncontrollably. She was scared. No, she was terrified.

“We have to get him back.” Her eyes pleaded with Dunn to agree with her. They had to get him now, before any harm was done to him. Before he was made to believe he was worth nothing again.

“I ken, I ken. We will get right on it now,” Dunn assured her.

Idalia hurried back to her room to change into a proper outfit and found that her sisters and Adamina were still waiting for her. They stood up when she came in and took in the urgency in her eyes. They dashed across the room towards her as she looked for something she could wear.

“What’s going on?”

“There’s a problem, there’s a huge problem,” Idalia said.

“Well, what is it?” Leonor asked her.

“Bran has been taken.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Bran fought against the darkness that threatened to embrace him once again. His head ached in a way that was sure to split his brain to two. He was tied to a tree and was bleeding profusely as he tried to see through swollen eyes.

The hot sun shone directly on his skin, the leaves of the tree doing nothing to stop their burning rays from hurting his body. Bran did not know how long he had been tied there, neither could he count how many times he had passed out.

After he had been struck on the boat when he questioned his captors, Bran had not woken up again until they had arrived at the camp. When he once again fought to regain his freedom, he had been knocked unconscious once more and had woken up in the very spot he was currently in. And again, and again…

Bran moved backward and groaned when his bare back rubbed against the roughness of the tree. He was in nothing but his loin cloth. His boots and trousers had been discarded until he was almost naked before he was tied. The bruises all over his body hurt more from the sun heating them up than anything else, and Bran’s feet felt like they had been set on fire. He had tried on countless occasions to move his legs into the little shade the tree provided, but the sun was as much his enemy as August Raymond was.