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Moon Craving

Page 26

by Lucy Monroe


  She turned her interest from the less-than-welcoming people to the Sinclair castle. The construction surprised her. She wasn’t sure what she had expected, but something so much like her own father’s home was not it. The ground had been raised to a hill with a moat around it. The keep, which looked like a single high tower was built on top of the hill with a wall all around. The timber wall extended down the hill to surround the bailey as well.

  She hadn’t imagined anything so grand in the Highlands. Perhaps her husband-to-be was not such a barbarian after all. Perhaps he would even have a kind heart and allow her to send for Abigail to come live with them. That was her most fervent hope.

  Her escort led her across the drawbridge toward the keep.

  A group of soldiers on the steps of the keep caught her eye. They all stood with arms folded and scowling at her approach. One soldier, who stood in the middle and was taller than all of the rest, scowled most fiercely. She tried to avoid looking at him because the dislike, nay hatred, emanating off of him was frightening.

  She hoped he was not one of her husband-to-be’s close advisors. She scanned the crowd to find her future husband, their laird. Her escort had led her almost to the scowling soldiers before she realized that one of them must be him. Her only excuse for being so slow to realize it was her deep desire for it to be otherwise.

  Please don’t let it be the angry man in the center, she prayed fervently, crossing herself for good measure.

  When the soldier in the middle stepped forward, she offered up a last desperate plea. But she knew it had been in vain when, without acknowledging her, he waved for her escort to follow him.

  “Where do you want the Englishwoman?” called the soldier nearest her.

  Her future husband merely shrugged and continued inside. For the life of her, she couldn’t think of any good excuse for his behavior. Even if he was a barbarian as Sybil claimed.

  She could only be glad that Abigail had not been sent in her place. God alone knew what kind of horrible things he might have done to her gentle sister. Or perhaps it was the devil himself who knew.

  She banished the wicked thought, but could not dismiss as easily the sense of doom settling over her.

 

 

 


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