True Love Brides 02 - The Highlander’s Curse by Claire Delacroix Page A

least not in contrast to happiness and love. A stubborn conviction was growing within her that she would have Garrett and no other, even if she were obliged to live out her days in the forest.
    She would be by his side, which would be compensation enough.
    She would have excused herself as soon as the meal was completed, but Isabella thought more quickly. Annelise was bidden to take Orson to the stables, that she might show him her mare, Yseult. When that task was finally completed—for Orson made a feast of a morsel—there was yet another task assigned to her. Isabella invited Orson to admire Annelise’s embroidery. The afternoon proved to be an ordeal beyond belief, and one that showed no signs of reaching its end.
    Finally, Annelise managed to excuse herself to change her garb for the evening meal. Once in her room, she had no doubt that Isabella would check upon her. One glance out the window proved that Stewart was sitting idly behind the kitchen. The faithful servant of Murdoch’s cast the occasional glance at her window, proving why he had taken that position and for what purpose. Murdoch was aware of her earlier escape route.
    Annelise folded her arms across her chest in vexation. What was wrong with all of them? Alexander had agreed that she—and Isabella and Elizabeth—could each wed by choice. Isabella had been married to Murdoch before any had known he would hold the seal of Seton Manor. She could not understand why Murdoch was so determined to keep her from Garrett over the question of property.
    It only meant that she would have to create her future by choice, rather than sit by and let others choose her fate for her. It had not been in Annelise’s nature to make such demands, but her boldness had already been rewarded.
    She would simply have to be more bold. Annelise waited an eternity, then crept to press her ear to the door.
    Silence in the corridor.
    She opened the door and listened. The voices from the hall below were muted, and Isabella said something about returning to the chapel. Annelise listened and resolved that Orson had gone with Isabella.
    Annelise crept to the top of the stairs and paused to listen again. She descended slowly, one step at a time, alert to any sound. She heard a dog barking at the gate and another snoring in the hall. She heard Andrew talking to the ostler in the yard and Orson laughing—probably at his own jest—far away. She heard the maids gossiping in the kitchens and the pots clanging.
    She took a deep breath and hastened down the last of the stairs. The hall was empty for the moment. Annelise fled down the corridor that led past the kitchens and toward the hut where Garrett had been taken.
    If anyone asked her, she would say she wanted to check upon his illness.
    But when Annelise reached the hut, her breath coming quickly, she was dismayed to find its door propped open. It was dark inside, with no sign of anyone. Surely, Garrett could not have left? Surely, Murdoch could not have cast him out?
    She spun in place, distressed beyond compare, when she heard a man’s low words.
    “There, now,” he said quietly. “Just a moment and all will be better.”
    Garrett!
    Annelise raced toward the sound of his voice. She turned the corner to the pen where the goats were kept, and smiled at the sight of him milking one of the nanny goats. His movements were sure and gentle despite his size and strength, the milk squirting into the bucket at steady intervals. He sat on a stool, his kilt pushed up over his knees, and she admired the lean strength of his legs. The goat herself chewed and looked around, apparently content. The other goats in the herd milled around them, nursing their own kids, eating hay, and bleating.
    The doe’s kid ducked under her other side and clamped on to one of her other teats, as if afraid Garrett would take all of the milk. “There is sufficient to share,” Garrett murmured softly and the doe bleated, as if to agree. She nuzzled her kid with an