rising sun.
Bowen watched as Rorie and Eveline noisily said farewell to Genevieve. They wept and clung to her as though they’d known her forever.
Graeme hovered close to Bowen, his expression worried and grim. ’Twas obvious he wanted to offer sympathy but had no idea what to say to his brother.
It was just as well, because Bowen had no desire to open the wound further. He offered his farewell to Laird and Lady McInnis and assisted Lady McInnis into the litter that would bear her and Genevieve back to McInnis Keep.
When it came time for Genevieve to take her leave, he stood stiffly to the side as she gave her farewell to Graeme. Then he offered her his hand to assist her into the litter.
She slid her fingers over his and lifted her gaze to his. They stared at each other for a long moment, their hearts in their eyes. Then she whispered her thanks and a farewell and climbed up beside her mother.
“Be well,” Bowen said as he took a step back.
“And you,” Genevieve murmured softly.
He took another step back. And then another. He had to put distance between them, else he’d haul her from the litter and never let her go.
Laird McInnis gave the order to move out, and the procession of horses began the journey from Montgomery Keep.
Bowen stood watching until the last of the horses disappeared in the distance. His heart was heavy, and a part of him died as Genevieve McInnis rode out of his life and back to her own.
“Be happy, my love,” he whispered. “Be happy.”
CHAPTER 45
“ ’Tis so good to have you home, Genevieve,” Sybil exclaimed as she bounced onto Genevieve’s bed.
Genevieve smiled. “ ’Tis all you’ve said these past weeks.”
“It can never be said enough. I missed you so.”
A look of sadness crossed her friend’s face, and Genevieve reached to squeeze her hand.
So much had changed in the time Genevieve had been gone. Sybil had married and remained on McInnis land with her new husband, who acted as Laird McInnis’s second-in-command.
Grief had altered her mother and father. They both looked older than Genevieve remembered. There were new lines on her father’s beloved face, and wrinkles around her mother’s eyes.
Not a day went by that her parents didn’t cosset her endlessly. They worried over her comfort, her happiness, whether she was plagued by unpleasant dreams or memories of her time with Ian McHugh.
Genevieve didn’t discuss the matter much, and her parents respected her wishes, not prying when she didn’t volunteer information.
There was no point in their knowing all Ian had subjected her to. It would only make them grieve more, and there was naught to be done about it now. It was all in the past, and she was determined to leave it there. It was a part of her life best forgotten.
The only good that had come out of all of it was … Bowen.
She lay awake at night, aching for him. It carried over into her days. She wasn’t herself. She was tired and lethargic, and she tried her best to exhibit enthusiasm, because she didn’t want to worry her parents.
“Do you like being married?” Genevieve asked, knowing this would turn the conversation to Sybil’s husband.
As expected, Sybil’s face lit up and she fairly glowed. It filled Genevieve with jealousy and longing.
“I love him so,” Sybil said wistfully. “He’s strong and honorable. The perfect warrior. And he spoils me shamelessly.”
Genevieve laughed. “ ’Tis a good thing, that.”
Sybil grinned. “Aye, it is.”
A knock sounded at Genevieve’s chamber door, and Sybil bounded up to answer. Genevieve’s father stuck his head inside, his gaze seeking Genevieve.
“I thought you might want to go out hunting with me. Your mother has a taste for rabbit stew, and we make a good pair. Let’s see if your archery skills are still up to par.”
Genevieve smiled, warmed by the fact that he sought her out to spend time with her. Both her mother and her father had kept her close ever since their return. She couldn’t walk for bumping into one of them.
“Aye, I’d like that. Give me but a moment to change into something suitable for hunting.”
Pleasure lit her father’s eyes and he smiled back. “I’ll wait in the courtyard. I’ll ready your mount while you dress.”
“They grieved for you so,” Sybil said in a quiet voice when the door had closed. “Your father was desolate for months, and not a day went by that your mother didn’t weep for her loss. I thought never to see