Highlander Most Wanted (The Montgomerys and Armstrongs #2)(79)

It was enough to make her break out into a cold sweat.

She knew that Bowen would have told his brother all about her situation, and it sickened her that others would know of her shame. She’d tried to wear her cape and hood, but Bowen had stoutly refused to allow her to hide behind it, stating that she had no reason to hide, no reason to be ashamed.

Still, she bore it in the sack tied to her saddlebag, because she could not bear the thought of facing Bowen’s entire clan without the barrier of her hood.

To her surprise, Teague and Brodie both accompanied Graeme and Bowen over to where she stood. Brodie was the first to offer his farewell. He simply ruffled her hair in a gesture that astonished her. As if she were a beloved little sister that he teased mercilessly. It warmed her and made her feel that she had a place among these people.

“Be well and happy,” Brodie offered.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice heavy with emotion.

Teague pulled her into a hug and kissed her forehead in an affectionate manner.

She clung fiercely to him, hugging him in return. “Thank you for your aid,” she whispered.

“I was glad to give it,” he said sincerely. “Safe journey to you.”

And then Teague and Brodie walked away, deep in conversation, and she was left alone with Bowen and his older brother, Graeme, the laird.

She licked her lips nervously and peeked up at Graeme. He was not as fierce as she’d imagined. He had a kind, thoughtful look that gave her hope. He was rumored to be a fair man, though he was fiercely loyal and protective of those he loved.

And ’twas well known he adored his wife.

“ ’Tis good to make your acquaintance, Genevieve,” Graeme said in a gentle tone. “I’ve heard much about you and the trials you have suffered. I want to offer my assurance that no such thing will occur on Montgomery land. You will be afforded protection and respect during your stay with our clan.”

She had to bite her lip to prevent the flow of tears. She blinked rapidly and performed a deep curtsy in front of Graeme, chiding herself not to become a weepy mess in front of him.

“I’m ever grateful, Laird,” she said sincerely.

Graeme nodded, then turned to Bowen. “If your business here is complete, let us be on our way. I’d see my wife as soon as possible. I do not like being parted from her.”

“We are ready,” Bowen said in a voice that told her he was as ready to be done with McHugh Keep as she was.

He held out his hand to assist Genevieve onto her mount. He lifted her high, and she slid into place on the saddle, excitement and nervousness assailing her.

She was truly leaving this place.

She could barely contain herself as she waited for the men to mount and give the call to move out.

Such a beautiful day. Symbolic. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky. No fog. The morning sun cast a glow over a pink-and-lavender sky. If ever there were a more perfect day to set out and put her past behind her, this was it.

Bowen rode up beside her and reached over to clasp her hand. He squeezed and gave her a smile that warmed her to her toes.

Ahead, Graeme gave the call to move ahead. The gate to the courtyard creaked open and the Montgomery warriors began to file out one by one. Graeme fell into line just ahead of Bowen and Genevieve, and Bowen motioned her forward so that she was between him and Graeme.

From the corner of her eye she saw Taliesan trying to hurry toward the gate, but she was hampered by her heavy limp. Genevieve gave a cry of alarm when Taliesan stumbled, but Brodie was suddenly there to steady her. Then, to Genevieve’s surprise, Brodie scooped her up and strode at a fast clip toward the gate so that Taliesan would be there when Genevieve rode past.

Taliesan’s cheeks were stained with color, but she held her head high and waved bravely despite the tears of grief in her eyes as Genevieve rode past.

Genevieve kissed her fingers and extended them in Taliesan’s direction. Her one true friend—her only friend.

“Safe journey to you,” Taliesan called. “Be happy, Genevieve. Be happy.”

“Farewell,” Genevieve called. Then to Brodie she said in a fierce voice, “Take care of her, Brodie. Look after her well.”

Brodie gave Genevieve a salute and then she was past the gate, following behind the line of Montgomery warriors that extended to the nearby hillside.

When she reached the top of the hill, temptation was too great and she swiveled in the saddle, looking back at the keep in the distance.

For a place she knew to be filled with darkness and pain, it looked much like any other keep. Seemingly harmless. Not a place of such evilness.

“Do not look back, Genevieve,” Bowen said in a quiet voice next to her. “There is nothing for you there.”

“Nay,” she agreed, taking one last glance at the symbol of her imprisonment. “There is naught for me there. I’ll not look back ever again.”

She turned as her horse rode on and she notched her chin up, determined not to give way to the overwhelming sadness eating at her soul.

She knew not what her future held. But she was free of her past. From here onward, her future was what she made it. Bowen had given her something long denied her. A choice. And she was determined not to make foolish choices.

She glanced sideways at Bowen, wondering how much of a role he would play in her future. He acted as though he cared for her, but she knew not if his feelings were driven by pity or something much deeper. He hadn’t spoken of his feelings—or the future—other than to tell her that he was taking her away.