The bundle was so tiny and his hands trembled when he reached down and lifted it gently. He stilled. Something didn’t feel right. With anxious hands he ripped the blanket off to uncover a sack.
He turned to the Abbess. She looked stunned, and he quickly opened the sack to look inside, his eyes shutting tight for a moment, uncertain at what he’d find. Then they sprang wide open and he turned the sack upside down, sand spilling out.
“Where’s my son?” he demanded.
“I—I—I have—”
“Who buried my son?”
The Abbess’s eyes turned wide.
Cullen dropped the sack to the ground and stood, brushing the dirt from his hands. “Bring him to me now.”
“I—”
“Now!” he bellowed, then tempered the anger boiling within him while renewed hope took hold.
His son was alive.
Chapter 3
Sara left Sister Mary at the arches with the other nuns who were clutching their rosary beads like weapons. Prayers were their protectors and their solutions. Whenever the abbey was faced with a problem, the nuns would take to a prayer vigil in the chapel. This scene, however, with nearly the entire inhabitants of the abbey congregating beneath the arches, rosaries in hands, reminded her of soldiers prepared to battle.
The enemy?
She slipped her shawl off her head. Her red corkscrew curls shot free like bursting flames as she tilted her head and peered to the far corner of the small cemetery.
At first glance she thought the size of the Highlander was the cause of the nuns’ unease. Further glance revealed the real reason for the sisters’ apprehension. A grave had been violated, an unthinkable act, but worse than that, it was a grave Sara was all too familiar with.
She threw her shoulders back and her head up, and with each step she took her heart thundered more loudly in her chest. This big brute of a Highlander was somehow connected with the poor woman who had been robbed of her newborn son by order of her callous father, the Earl of Balford. The story had circulated throughout the abbey upon the woman’s arrival. The earl had forbid her to wed her lover, a man beneath her station. She would deliver the babe and be done with it, never to see her son again. The injustice of the whole situation sickened Sara and made her take a decisive action she had thought someday would return to haunt her.
It looked like it had.
On closer approach, she saw that the large man, though obviously angry, had strong, handsome features and, thank the Lord, those were good teeth she spied through his snarl. His brown eyes were a shade darker than his long earthy brown hair and fumed with impatience. He looked about ready to reach out and grab her, and if he did, she had no doubt she’d get a taste of his strength. He was broad in chest and shoulders, with thick muscles in his legs and more than likely in his arms, though his long sleeves prevented confirmation. But she didn’t need it. What she could see of him told her enough.
Good features and good strength equaled good husband material.
As long as he wasn’t already married, she would have herself a husband, even if only for a brief time. God had been generous and answered her prayers.
Sara stopped beside the Abbess. “You wished to see me?”
“Where is my son?” The man shook the empty sack at Sara. “I have lost his mother. I will not loose my son.”
Pain mixed with his angry tone and tore at her heart. This man had been deeply wounded, and she didn’t wish to cause him any more pain, but she also needed him to help her. In return, she would give him what he so desperately wanted.
“You were to take care of the burial,” the Abbess said accusingly.
“If there had been a dead babe to bury, I would have seen to a proper burial. The babe, however, was very much alive.”
The Abbess snapped tall, as if affronted by her suggestion. “That is impossible. The babe died.”
“Not true. The babe—”
“Was dead and deserved a Christian burial,” the Abbess said. “Now what have you done with the child’s body?”
Sara rarely held her tongue, and when she knew she was right, she never held her tongue. “You had to have heard the whispers.”
“Pure nonsense—”
“The mother didn’t believe, so—”
“The mother was not of her right mind—”
“Enough!” Cullen’s shout brought a startled silence, and his dark eyes darted to Sara. “Explain.”
“Sara knows nothing,” the Abbess claimed.
Cullen’s head snapped around to pin the Abbess with a cold glare. “She will answer me, and you will not interfere.” He dismissed her presence by merely returning his attention to Sara and reiterating his query, again with a single word: “Explain.”
“I was not present at the birth, but I lingered like most of the others, waiting, hoping, to have a peek at the babe. The whispers started as the delivery drew closer. They were not easily dismissed. Who, and especially someone in the abbey, would suggest that the babe was doomed? Why?” Sara shrugged her shoulders. “It made no sense that the child should be in danger. A tiny babe, an innocent—”
“No babe is innocent,” the Abbess corrected. “He entered this world in sin and—”
“And that doomed him?” Sara snapped. “Alexander had done nothing to anyone. He simply entered this life ready to live, and his grandfather, the Earl of Balford, planned for his immediate demise.”
“Hush your lies,” the Abbess scolded.
Sara ignored the Abbess and focused on Cullen. “Alexander’s mother—”
“Alaina,” Cullen said. “Her name was Alaina.”
Sara had only seen the woman briefly when she entered the abbey, but her name fit her. Her features had been stunning. Any man who glanced her way would find it hard to take his eyes off her. “I heard that Alaina pleaded for help for her child, begged that he not be harmed, and screamed when he was ripped from her arms.”
Cullen turned smoldering dark eyes on the Abbess.
“She lies,” the Abbess said.
“You saw my son die?”
“No, I was told of his passing—” The Abbess gasped, and with a shocked glare looked at Sara.
Sara grinned. “I informed the Abbess of Alexander’s passing.”
“Y-You lied?” the Abbess sputtered in disbelief.
“I took pity on the babe. He did nothing to deserve such a horrendous fate. So I saw that he was sent someplace safe.”
“Where? Where is he?” Cullen demanded.
This was her chance, more than likely her only chance, and as much as she felt for the Highlander’s loss, she couldn’t let it stand in her way. Besides, it truly was a small favor in return for what he wanted. He had nothing to lose and everything to gain. It was more than a fair bargain she would strike with him, or so she forced herself to believe.
“I want to see you reunited with your son, but I need something from you first. And I feel it is best we discuss it in private.”
The Abbess objected, but as Sara expected, Cullen was quick to dismiss her protests and requested they be shown privacy.
Cullen wasn’t comfortable in the chapel. He stood tensely between the front pews and the altar. He had long ago lost faith, and with Alaina’s senseless death, his faith had completely perished. His own actions and courage were what he relied upon, and what would return his son to him. Then and only then would he settle his debt with the Earl of Balford.
He forcibly pushed revenge out of his mind. His son required all of his attention, and he could not afford to dwell on the horror of what Alaina had gone through in delivering their child and knowing his fate.
Whatever this woman wanted, he would give her. She had, after all, taken pity on his son’s plight and had courageously seen to his safety. He owed her for saving his son’s life. No price was too high. He would pay whatever she asked.
Wanting this ordeal over and done with, he spoke directly. “How much do you want for the information?”
&n
bsp; “I want you to marry me.”
Cullen stood stock-still, staring at her for a moment until he found his voice. “What?”
“You heard me correctly,” Sara said bluntly. “I need to marry immediately, and you’re the only man available.”
He glanced to her stomach.
“No, I’m not with child. I’ve never even bed a man.”
His brow went up.
“Think what you want of me. It doesn’t matter. What matters is that I wed. My father demands that I marry the man he has chosen for me—” She shuddered at the thought. “Or I take my vows here at the abbey. I have been unsuccessful in securing a candidate of my own, but since I have something you want and you have something I want, I assumed we could bargain.”
Cullen walked in a slow circle around her, taking stock of the woman who stood between him and finding his son. She wasn’t a beauty, as Alaina had been, her features more common, unmemorable, though her bright red hair certainly couldn’t be forgotten. Her curls sprung crazily around her head like flames out of control. She stood far too tall for a woman, and her ill-fitted, plain brown skirt and tan blouse did little to define her body. Her blue-green eyes, however, intrigued him. He couldn’t say why. The color was common enough, but there was something else there in the depths. He just couldn’t quite define it.
She also was obviously outspoken, direct in her manner, and did not care if her words disturbed or shocked. To be so blatant as to tell him that she had never bed a man, or to not care if he believed her, was not good manners.
Marriage meant little to him. If he couldn’t marry and spend the rest of his life with the woman he loved, then he would not wed at all. His love had died with Alaina. He’d never love as strongly as he loved her. He wouldn’t even want to try to love again.
So what she required was a small price to pay for his son’s safe return. He could give it to her easily, and just as easily leave the fiery redhead and join his half brother in America when his son was finally in his arms.
“Since you have yet to respond,” she said, “I assume you are considering my proposal.”
“A strange proposal and one I never expected,” Cullen admitted.
“I’ve learned that life is full of unexpected events.” She shrugged. “One must do the best one can with what she has in hand.”
“And I just happened to be handy.”
“Actually, you’re a godsend.”
She continued to startle him with her bluntness, but then, she was being honest with him, and he couldn’t fault that.
“You mentioned your father had chosen a husband for you. Why not just marry him?”
Sara pinched her nose and waved a hand in front of her. “He stunk!”
Cullen cracked a smile, the first in a very long time. “That badly?”
She rolled her eyes. “If you put him on the battlefield, he’d wipe out the enemy in one good whiff.”
Cullen laughed this time, a short burst that surprised him, but it couldn’t be helped. The picture she painted was just too humorous to ignore.
“And his teeth?” She shook her head. “I thanked the good Lord when I spied yours.”
He grinned, and she smiled.
“No rot and none broken. You’re a gem.”
“I meet with your approval?”
“It doesn’t truly matter if you do or not, though I am grateful for your good appearance. More important, you’re all that’s available.”
“So you’re stuck with me,” Cullen said, thinking he might just have the upper hand in this matter. Sara was quick to let him know that wasn’t the case.
“And you’re stuck with me, since I have what you want.”
“You’ll tell me—”
“After we’re wed,” she said.
This woman wasn’t only blunt, she was shrewd, and he wondered how much he could actually trust her, and if he could be sure she was speaking the truth.
He was direct with her. “How do I know you don’t tell me a bunch of lies just to get out of here?”
Sara shrugged. “You don’t.”
Her response startled him silent. She all but told him that he’d have to take a chance with her. He could be chasing a wild goose or he could be on the road to finding his son.
Sara sighed and shook her head.
Cullen watched her tight curls bounce around her face and spring from her head. The molten red color reminded him of the blazing sun as it settled in the sky at day’s end. Then her eyes caught his and a shiver raced through him. The soft blue-green color held a compassion that stirred his own, and he knew there and then that she spoke the truth.
“I’m not lying to you,” she said gently, and smiled. “I held your son in my arms. He was adorable, with a thatch of brown hair much like your own. I hushed his cries with a soft melody as I stole out into the night, sneaking him to safety. I felt so relieved when he was gone from the abbey. I knew no one would find him for they would all assume him dead and buried. I filled the sack with sand and wrapped it in the blue blanket. I dug the grave myself and fashioned the grave marker and purposely etched his name carelessly into the wood.”
Cullen almost reached out and hugged the woman. She had done for his son what he’d been unable to do. She had saved his life, and with a threat to her own, for if the Earl of Balford ever discovered what she’d done, he would have had her severely punished.
While he was forever grateful to her, he was also annoyed. He wished she would just tell him where Alexander was so he could be on his way. He ached to hold his son in his arms, know he was safe, and then see that they both joined his half brother in America, where no one could hurt either of them ever again.
“I appreciate what you did for my son,” he said.
“But…” Sara sighed. “You wished you didn’t have to marry me.”
Cullen answered her bluntly. “You’re right. I don’t want to wed you.”
“You have little choice if you want to see your son again.”
Her threat did not sit well with him, but he tempered his anger. He needed this woman whether he liked it or not. So, what if he wed her for a brief time? Their marriage meant nothing. He didn’t love her, nor she him. It was simply a bargain struck between two people, no more, no less.
He supposed it was the thought of marriage itself that disturbed him. He had always believed that he would wed Alaina. She would be his one and only wife; he wanted no other. Then he recalled how Alaina, with her last breath, thought only of their son. She knew she was dying, and all she could think about was Alexander’s safety. She had taken a chance to be with him and for them to find their son, and had paid dearly for it. She had paid with her life.
He was being asked to pay far less. He had no right to complain.
He captured Sara’s eyes with a stone-hard glare. “I will wed you,” he said.
Chapter 4
The ceremony was quick and simple following a lengthy protest from the Abbess. She claimed it wasn’t right to wed for inappropriate reasons, and after a round of debates, she conceded out of pure exhaustion. Sara had been relentless in her reasoning and demanding in her decision. She would wed Cullen Longton and that was that.
The wedding served a purpose, or so she convinced herself while exchanging vows. Like so many young girls, she had dreamed of love, but had resigned herself to never finding it. It appeared it just wasn’t meant to be for her. Since she had been young, the lads made fun of her height or ridiculed her outspoken nature, which fostered an even deeper bluntness. While they practiced with their swords, she had sharpened her tongue, until few dared even to spar with her.
Her bold nature had won her few friends and even fewer suitors. But she survived her time at Stilmere Abbey and learned a thing or two, so her stay wasn’t for naught. Her time at the abbey had also provided her with the means to return home under her own terms, and for that she was grateful. However, she didn’t think the Scotsman would be too pleased to learn there would be more to their agree
ment than she’d led him to believe. “I will get my things so that we may leave,” she said moments after the ceremony ended.
“That won’t be necessary,” Cullen told her. “You go your way and I’ll go mine. Just tell me where I can find my son.”
Sara took a breath and released it with a whoosh of words. “After my father meets you and knows we are properly wed, we’ll get your son.”
Wisely, she took a step away from her new husband as soon as bright red splotches popped out all over his face and neck and melted into each other until his skin glowed like red amber.
Cullen lunged at her, and she halted him with a firm, splayed hand to his chest. He felt like hot metal and her palm nearly singed from his heat.
“Your son is safe,” she reassured him. “Once my father knows that I am good and wed, and claims my duty as a daughter done, then I will see you to your son.”
“That wasn’t our bargain. We were to wed, no more.”
“I didn’t exactly say that.”
“You tricked me.”
“Would you have wed me if you thought more was expected of you?” she challenged.
He turned away from her and she heard him take a heavy breath before turning back, his face no longer aflame.
He kept his voice low. “What else do you expect of me?”
“We’ll discuss it later,” she said, casting a quick glance at the Abbess, who was busy at her desk, properly recording the ceremony. All the others were already gone from the room.
Cullen leaned in closer, until it looked as if he were about to kiss her, but Sara knew better and didn’t flinch.
“Tell me now.”
“When we’re alone,” she said firmly.
Rather than respond, Cullen took hold of her arm and propelled her out the door to the far corner of the arches, where no one could hear them, much less see them.
“Now!” he said, releasing her arm as if it scalded him.
“Try to understand my predicament,” Sara began. “My father must know for sure that we are properly wed. Only then will he be satisfied and leave me alone. I do not insist that you must stay with me. One day you can simply vanish, be gone. Tongues will wag for a while then turn silent, and I will finally be left in peace. And you will finally have your son.”
The Highlander's Bride Page 2
