Bound by Wish and Mistletoe (Highland Legends #1.5)(43)
“If God granted me a last piece of time to treasure forever, this would be it,” she whispered.
He sighed, tears springing into his eyes as he was overcome by new emotions assaulting his heart. “Aye, love. This would be it.”
Susanna wrapped her arms and legs around him as her lips nuzzled his neck, kissing the skin softly. He remained within her embrace, his hands tucked beneath her shoulders, his face buried in the sweet lavender scent of her hair, his body buried deep inside her.
For the first time in his life, he felt protected. Cherished. Loved.
*
Susanna shot upright in bed, gasping for breath as she escaped the suffocating clutches of another nightmare. Only this time, the vivid images burned into her memory, terrifying her. She glanced left to see Robert slumbering on his stomach, his back rising and falling in slow, steady breaths, his skin faintly illuminated by the last glowing embers in the hearth.
His amazing peace was completely at odds with her debilitating unrest. In her dreams, demons in Robert’s likeness had chased her, threw flames at her until her lungs filled with choking smoke. Even awake, she couldn’t breathe, undeniable fear of him transforming into that demon at some point in the future seizing her chest.
Acting on impulse, she quickly dressed and traipsed down the hall, counting the doors. She softly knocked on Brigid’s. Torturous seconds later, the door opened to reveal her sleepy friend, copper curls a wild riot around her face.
“Susanna!” Brigid whispered, wrapping a robe over her sleeping gown. “Are you unwell?”
“Aye, at least in the head. My thoughts are jumbled with fears, and I canna breathe. I feel like my poundin’ heart might explode out of my chest. I need that fresh air and time to think.” They’d discussed her idea in the torch-lit corridor the night before, the possibility of a night ride.
Brigid nodded. “Meet me down in the great hall. I’ll try to get Isobel away.”
Both women appeared minutes later and spirited Susanna to the other end of the keep, through a gallery of Iain’s collected treasures, and into the down-sloping entrance of a hidden tunnel. Isobel handed her a fiery torch she’d pulled from a fitting in the hall.
“I still don’t think this is a good idea.” Isobel repeated her misgivings from the night before.
Brigid wrapped a thick black cloak around Susanna’s wedding dress. “Susanna promised it was only to think. And with Solus protectin’ her, she’ll be fine.”
“Thank you. Both of you are so kind to me. Though you doona need to loan me your horse, my mare will do.”
“No.”
“Nay.”
Isobel laughed at their simultaneous reply, but the smile faded, and she glared at Susanna. “You’ll take my battle-trained horse, or we won’t help you with the head-clearing ride you need. Understand?”
Susanna laughed, grateful for their help at all. “Aye.”
She took her time wandering down into the airtight passage as she had the shortest distance to cover. The chilly corridor had been constructed large enough for her to stand upright and spread her arms wide before her fingertips grazed the tightly fitted stones on either side.
As she slowed her steps, she watched the shadows waver and creep along the walls and ceiling, bidden by her flickering torch. But she wasn’t frightened. Only the dark corners of her tortured mind seemed to have that power.
A wooden ladder built into the wall appeared ahead, and she slid the torch into an iron fitting a few feet to its right. She took a deep breath, lifted her skirts, and carefully secured each slipper-covered foot into the rungs as she climbed out. As she rose toward the surface, colder air fogged down and around her until she pushed through thick scrub in front of the entrance and stepped out into the snow.
She pulled her borrowed cloak tightly around her as a biting wind whipped an icy frost into her bones. Ignoring the discomfort, she closed her eyes and slanted her face to the starry sky, inhaling the crisp cold air, the effects of the outside wilderness already calming her.
The sound of crunching snow alerted her moments before Brigid and Isobel walked into view, leading a regal mare whose white coat glowed in the light of the moon. That the two women would give her such a prized animal shocked her. Although they’d formed the fast bonds of friends and family, they’d still only known her for two days.
She was amazed by their kindness and generosity, but remembered Isobel’s nonnegotiable terms. “I’ll take good care of her.”
“Aye, you will. And yourself.” Brigid said. “Iain and Robert will be roarin’ the castle down if harm comes to either of you.”
“Are you certain we can’t convince you to ride with Brigid tomorrow?”
Susanna shook her head. “Nay. I need to clear my head before I lose my mind. And I canna do so with company.”
Warmth suddenly surrounded her, both women wrapping her in a fierce hug. She squeezed back, tears filling her eyes as she clung to two kindhearted souls that, in the best ways, reminded her of Mama.
Although she’d only shared with them brief details of Mama and her father, they had to be aware of Dougal’s attack in the woods prior to her arrival. They honored her, both by not prying about something she wasn’t able to talk about and in trusting her instincts that she’d be safe on a short midnight ride.
Nearly an hour later, Susanna rode Isobel’s majestic horse through the snowy landscape, everything blurring together into the moonlit darkness. Tears in her eyes spilled over, tracking down hot across her cheeks in the biting wind. The stabbing cold on her skin and the choking cramp in her throat were far easier to bear than the crushing weight within her chest.