Highland Escape - Cathy MacRae Page 0,32
man who, like an enemy, could injure or betray, though posing as the strongest of allies. The very thought chilled her blood.
“I—I am not attractive to men.”
Nessa flopped onto the edge of the hearthstone, staring dubiously at her. “Anna, whatever do ye mean?”
With a sweep of her hand she indicated her leather armor hanging from a hook on the wall. “What man wants a woman who dresses or behaves such? Where I am from, men only want women as decoration, servants, or for breeding. I am interested in none of those.”
She turned to stare into the flames on the hearth, her voice dropping to a whisper. “When men look at me, they do not see a woman but an aberration. Someone to be ridiculed—or conquered.”
They do not understand the cruel jests—from overbearing men and the fairer sex—or how I pretended not to care. The pain of admitting this to another took her by surprise. She’d told herself for many years she was unworthy of the love a man gave a woman, and had hidden from the ache of this knowledge. It was much easier to recall the negatives of relationships she saw, rather than remembering the love and tenderness her parents shared, or other couples she knew who loved each other. Internally shaking her head no, she repeated her oft-spoken words. I am not meant for love.
Anna lifted her chin, straightening in the chair. “I am simply a curiosity, an oddity. He is only interested because I am different—because I have defeated a number of men in his presence—nothing more.”
Nessa stared at her, the surprise on her face fading to sadness. Reaching for Anna’s hand, she drew her near, folding her in a firm embrace. Pulling back, she squeezed Anna’s hands, concern filling her eyes. “Anna, truly ye dinnae see yerself. I have admired ye so much, I havenae considered the cost ye paid to become as ye are. Still, it doesnae change the fact ye are bonny.”
Kissing Nessa’s forehead, Anna whispered, “Thank you. You are always so kind to me.”
They supped with the family in the great hall, amongst the rest of the clan, for the first time since her arrival. Anna sat on the ladies’ side of the table, furthest away from the laird. Duncan sat next to his father on the other side. Anna kept to herself, not speaking unless spoken to, giving only simple answers.
The rest of the clan seemed to have grown used to her presence. Overt stares and glances from the lower tables became subtle. The weight of their gazes un-balanced her as she sat on display at the high board.
Anna rose from the table when Mairi did, marking her first chance to leave. Duncan took the opportunity to approach.
“Would ye be interested in another ride tomorrow?”
Her stomach churned when he drew near. She chided herself for such an absurd reaction and replied by asking a question first.
“If I were to ride alone in your territory, would I be safe?” From the corner of her eye she watched the laird’s belly quiver with silent laughter.
Duncan took her question seriously. “I dare say ye would be safer than anyone fool enough to cross yer path. The laird made it clear. Ye are not to be harmed.”
Against her better judgment, and because she grew weary of remaining indoors, Anna acquiesced to his question. “Yes, I would like to ride again tomorrow. When?”
Duncan quirked a roguish smile. “How about after we break our fast? Da and I thought it wise for ye to become more familiar with our lands and to have our people get used to seeing ye about.”
“Very well, after the morning meal then. Thank you,” she answered in a stiff voice, forcing a fleeting smile, hoping she didn’t betray her edginess in his presence. She turned and followed Nessa upstairs.
Nessa bubbled with excitement.
“’Tis just riding,” Anna protested.
The girl spun around to look at Anna, her excitement undimmed. “I know.”
The next morning, Anna rose before the sun. Dressing quietly to avoid waking Nessa, she slipped out and made her way to the stables. She grabbed a shovel and nearby wooden cart and began clearing out Orion’s stall. He watched, occasionally nuzzling her shoulder. Lifting his head, he nickered. Anna turned to see who approached.
“What do ye think ye are doing?” Duncan blustered.
“My horse, my responsibility,” she shot back defiantly.
“Noblewomen dinnae muck stalls. We have stable boys for such chores.” His voice rolled thick with frustration.
She wiped sweat from her brow, leaned against the