The Lover - Page 112

When Eve rose, making a visible effort to control her frustration, Niall stood unsteadily and made for the door.

Giving a start, Eve took a step after him. “Niall…where do you go?”

“To Edinburgh,” he said grimly. “To fetch my bride.” He intended to find Sabrina and demand her surrender—and put an end to this torment once and for all.

Chapter

Sixteen

Dawn broke over the city of Edinburgh, but neither the clatter of horses’s hooves nor the rumble of cart wheels on the cobblestone streets below penetrated Sabrina’s awareness as she stared blindly out her bedchamber window.

Her eyes burned with unshed tears and lack of sleep. She’d had little rest in the four days since she’d left the Highlands, her heart shattered and bleeding.

Curse him, curse him, curse him! Why had she allowed herself to love him?

Squeezing her eyes shut, Sabrina rubbed her throbbing temples. Niall was not to blame for her misery. From the first he’d made it manifest he didn’t want her love. Yet that reminder didn’t help to dull the relentless ache within her, or quiet her tumultuous reflections. No matter how determinedly she refused to think about him, the memories persisted, stabbing through her mind in harsh rebellion.

What an utter fool she’d been! She had vowed never to let herself succumb to Niall, but she’d failed wretchedly. She should never have journeyed to the Highlands. She was more desolate now than she’d ever been as a spurned spinster, before Niall had opened up the fissure in her heart.

She could only pray that someday the pain would diminish. Until then she would try to bear up grimly.

She intended to remain in Edinburgh with her stepfather. Though still weak, Charles had nominally recovered from his recent illness, yet she would care for his household as she’d done in the years before her marriage. She could make a life for herself here, a life that was dull but safe from the beguiling rake who had devastated her heart.

Now that peace with the Buchanans was at hand, her clan no longer needed her. Nor did her husband, Sabrina thought with a bitter ache. Without her presence to inconvenience him, Niall could resume his former relationship with his beautiful mistress.

Turning away from the window, Sabrina forced herself to begin the chore of tidying her bedchamber, though she had no heart for it.

A short while later, her pulse lurched as she caught the low murmur of a familiar masculine voice from somewhere within the house, the velvet tones edged with impatience. Niall! What in God’s name was he doing here? Faith, she wasn’t prepared to confront him. Yet there was no time to hide…

She heard footsteps—the sound of booted feet taking the stairs two at a time. When Niall appeared in the open doorway, his powerful body seemed to fill the small chamber.

He wore the McLaren plaid and a deadly broadsword, while his jaw was unshaven and his hair clubbed back carelessly with a plain ribbon. With his sapphire eyes narrowed, he looked every inch the Highland warrior. He must have ridden through the night, Sabrina realized, and somehow managed to discover the location of her stepfather’s town house.

“Is something amiss?” she managed to ask, torn between alarm at facing Niall so unexpectedly again and worry at the urgency of his mission.

He stood gazing at her, his eyes drinking her in. “Aye, very much amiss.”

“My grandfather?”

“Angus is well.”

“Then…what…why have you come?” Her voice was a breathless whisper.

“I’ve come to fetch my bride.”

Bewildered, Sabrina stared at him, trying to judge the expression on his beautiful features. She could read fatigue there, and grim determination. “I…I don’t understand.”

“I’ve missed you, Sabrina. I want you to come home.”

“Home?”

“Aye, to the Highlands where you belong.”

She shook her head in disbelief, remembering the harsh words she’d exchanged with this man at their bitter parting. “I don’t belong there. And I don’t wish to return. My stepfather has need of me here.”

“The servant said Cameron had recovered his health. That he had left early for his offices.”

“He is still weak, however, and I mean to care for him. I shall make my home here, Niall. You’ve endured a long journey for naught.”

Tags: Nicole Jordan Historical
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