Highlander's Bride: Medieval Romance (The Fae Book 1) Read Online Free PDF Page A

the inner bailey and mounted. With a wave, he rode out under the arch, a half dozen of his armed men falling in behind him. Ardan House, his own stronghold farther along the loch, sat close which meant Duncan was never far away.
    She rubbed her chilled arms. Well, ’twas done. Betrothed now, and a traitor too, to her own mate no less. With a long sigh, she opened her skill and reached out along the pathway which would take her to Ronan, although as usual naught but a dark void remained in place where he should have been. Surely he’d survived the whipping inflicted by those awful guards. She certainly wouldn’t consider anything else. He lived, would continue to live, provided he stayed far away from her.
    Downstairs, she tramped and across the courtyard toward the front door of the keep.
    The hearty chattering of her kin reverberated toward her as she stepped into the great hall where a good hundred warriors remained seated around the trestle tables as they ate their morning meal. Serving lasses weaved around the men with trays of steaming bowls of oats and jugs of warm cider in hand. Overhead, massive wooden-beamed rafters rose to an imposing height with the dawn’s sunshine peppering in through the tall windows and sprinkling golden rays across the wooden floorboards. She walked past the blazing fireplace where two dogs sat guzzling scraps then stepped up onto the dais.
    “It appears you’ve been out on the cliffs again. Your gown is damp and your nose all red.” Gordon rose from where he was seated and pulled out a chair for her. Duncan’s captain had spent a great deal of time guarding Ronan in the dungeons, had come to know their prisoner well.
    “I wished to see the sun rise and the storm clouds finally scatter.” She sat in the high-backed chair and he tucked it in. “I spoke to Duncan afore he rode out and we, ah—” How did she put this? Best she just speak the words and be done with it. “We’ve agreed to a betrothal.”
    “Then you have my most hearty congratulations. Duncan will be good for you, lass.” He returned to his seat, plunked down in his chainmail and black boots. From the platters in the center of the table, he selected some of the choicest cuts of meat and added them to his trencher then offered her the platter holding fresh fish.
    “Thank you.” She popped the meat into her mouth and it near melted on her tongue. ’Twas delicious, yet the taste soon turned to dust as another image of Ronan flittered through her mind. Arms outstretched, he’d been chained to the blackened stone wall of his cell, his body slumped and his hunger and thirst beating at her. It had taken all her willpower not to unlock those cuffs and set him free. How she’d wanted to, desperately. All that had stayed her hand was the knowledge that Muirin needed time with his father. The fae sorceress had deserved the chance to forge the soul bond with her mate and she’d had no desire to take that right from her, not as it had been so cruelly taken from her. ’Twas sacred, a bond all her kin desired. A bond she’d been gifted with, but could never accept.
    Such sadness swirled within her heart, made it beat sluggish and slow. Her fingers and toes went all icy and numb. She squeezed her eyes shut and forced the dreaded emotions away. Plodding around the keep all maudlin and sorrowful would never do, not when word would soon spread of her betrothal with Duncan. Her kin needed to see her contentment, and Duncan deserved naught less than her full acceptance of their coming marriage.
    “Would you care for some tea, my lady?” One of the maids set a bowl of oats before her.
    “Aye, that would be wonderful, with a good spoonful of honey, please.” Smiling at the maid, she curled her hands around the underside of the bowl of oats to warm her fingers.
    “I’ll be but a moment.” The maid swished away, her dark hair bundled up under her frilly cap and her apron ties swaying down to her knees.
    “What are your plans