“You have only met him. He has nothing to offer you!”
“You do not know that.”
“I know more than you think, my child," he said and she started to cry. “He has deceived you. He does not want you. You know nothing about him.”
“That is a lie,” she sobbed into her hands. “I know him better than you do! He is a nice and honest man who thinks before he acts. He had many chances to use me. I have been around him many times but he never once laid his hands on me. All he does is make me happy and make me laugh. If I were to speak the truth, I do not think I have ever been as happy as I was when I am with him. All I ask for is to have one friend, father.”
“Joan, he is merely taking advantage of your innocence. You are naïve. People like him do not care for others. They only use! He will use you, and then no one would want you!”
“If he didn't care, why would he risk being seen with me when he knows who you are. It is truly a shame that you cannot see how happy he makes me or you simply do not care. Why do you not want to understand this?” she said as she gathered her dress and left the study for her room.
She fell on her bed and cried her heart out until she saw the candle in her room light up. She raised her head and looked at the maid who proceeded to take a seat on a stool. “What do you want, Alma?”
"Lord Tyrill asked me to stay here with you all night to keep your company in case you feel lonely.”
“Find Sophie instead.”
“I am sorry, Miss, he told me not to lose sight of you,” the maid servant said.
“So you are here to watch me!” she spat at Alma who did not reply. Joan wanted to speak but she realized the maid was only doing as she was told. "I am sorry for my outburst, Alma. None of these is your fault," She said and the maid nodded. "Are you comfortable?"
"Yes, Miss. Thank you," the maid answered.
I can't stay here any longer, this is not right.
Joan hopped off her bed and went to her desk, she pulled out a sheet of paper and took out her pen from the ink and started to write messily.
Dear Sebastian,
By the time you read this letter, I will already be long gone. I am grateful to have known you and for all you have done for me but I cannot continue to live this way. I may come back in the future, but only after I am married. Tell father that I love him and please take care of him for me.
When she was done, the note was almost illegible. Her tears had smudged the ink in a few places. She laid it out to dry. She then hid it on her person and walked back to her bed. She laid down and pretended to sleep until she saw the maid get off the stool and lay on the floor. She waited another half hour before getting up and grabbing a leather bag as quietly as she could. She threw some of her clothes into the bag and quietly closed it. When she was done and started to tie her curtains and bed covers together to make a rope.
She waited after that. Hours passed, but no one came to see her. She thought about her father. In all her life, he had never raised his hand to her, no matter how terrible her offense was, but he had slapped her today. He had forbidden her from ever stepping out of her little corridor.
I am sorry, father but I refuse to accept that this is my life.
She carried her bag, grabbed her makeshift rope, and tiptoed toward the table. She placed the note down and kept it in place with the candle stand.
Now I just have to open this door without waking her up.
She held her breath and stealthily crept toward the door. She unlocked it slowly, then she began to it. The wood creaked.
“When is the…” the maid murmured in her sleep.
Joan paused for a moment. She slid through the small opening and found her way into her study. She crept to the window and caressed the knobs until it opened. She slowly lowered the rope until it got to the ground, and then she tied the other end to a shelf.
Without looking back, and with tears in her eyes, she started to descend and when her feet hit the ground, she fled.
Chapter 5
Aidan struggled to get on his horse as his bruises still ached. He bit back a curse when he fell back down to the ground. He looked at Ian for help but was ignored. Ian had not been pleased when Aidan stumbled back into their room the previous night, covered in bruises and with a bloody mouth.
Despite the beating Aidan had gotten, he begged Ian not to go fight for him. There were too many guards, he would be outnumbered. Ian huffed as he watched Aidan try to get back on his horse and he began to get down from his own horse to help when he heard a feminine voice call for them.
Aidan stopped his struggle just as he saw Joan running toward them barefoot, heavy bag in hand.
“Dinnae even think of bringing her with us,” Ian said as she rushed into Aidan and pulled him into a tight embrace.
“Why are ye here?” Aidan asked, wincing from how her embrace was hurting him.
“I want to come with you,” Joan replied.
“I apologize, but ye cannae come along. It is a dangerous journey through the forest. Thieves, travelers, and guards are in that forest. They will nae hesitate to kill you for yer valuables.”
“I do not care. I want to go with you. My father locked me up in my room after you left. I know this may be the last time that you will ever come to England and I don't want to stop seeing you. That is why I want to come with you. I want to be free.” Aidan felt his head start to ache as she spoke but still let her finish. “Also, I can't bear one more day in my father's castle, I would rather take my chances with this forest.”
“Joan, ye c—” Aidan was interrupted by Ian scoffing at them.
“If ye think anythin' he said to ye was—” Ian began but Aidan shut him up with a wave of his hand.
Shut yer mouth, Ian.
“Aidan please let me come with you,” Joan begged as she set down her bag and clasped her hand together. “I do not want to stay here anymore. Please let me come with you.”
She will be happier with me than with her father. I cannae condemn her to rot in that prison. This way, no harm can come to her when we attack Haerton, but it will be hard for her to stay in Rattray.
Aidan was confused about what to do. He knew if he took her along, she might be happy for a little while until she came to know of his lies, that was if she survived the journey to Scotland. If he didn't take her along, he might lose her to the upcoming war or to another man.
Rattray is safer than her home at least until after the war.
Their journey was going to be treacherous as they had to pass through the border without the guards knowing, then they would venture deep into the denser part forest to avoid clashing with guards but they would encounter thieves, rouges, and even wild animals.
It is too dangerous. I must not let her get hurt.
“No. You have to stay here,” Aidan said with a tone of finality as he started to mount his horse. He noticed her watching him as he climbed onto the horse with some difficulty due to the beating he had received from her father's guards. As she reached out to help him, he swung his leg over the horse and finally sat steadily. “Go back to yer father. He must be worried.”
“Aidan, please take me with you. I will not cause any trouble. I promise.” Ian had already started to move, ignoring her.
I cannae bring an English girl to Scotland, but which is worse? She will not last in this forest or in her town.
“Go back,” Aidan said as his horse started to move to catch up to Ian. He looked back to see her trying to wipe her tears away and the sight pulled at his heart. He clamped his teeth on his lower lip and tightened his hands on the reins as he urged his horse to go faster.
Soon they were almost out of the town but the image of Joan crying didn't leave his head for a moment. After a quick decision, he pulled at the reins and made his horse turn.
I can at least try to make this work. I can try for her.
“Where are ye going?” Ian called out to him, irritation in his voice.
“Wait a wee bit!” Aid
an called back as his horse galloped back into the town until they got to the inn. Joan was gone. He huffed and turned his horse toward the Hale Estate but he didn’t see her. Aidan was starting to get frustrated as he turned his horse to go to the fields. It took him a while to find her in the large field. She was huddled with her knees to her chest and her shoulders shook violently as she cried.
Oh, Joan!
“Joan?” His horse came to a stop in front of her. She looked up at him, her face stained with tears, her eyes and nose red.
“Leave me be,” she turned away from him and buried her head in her arms.
“Yer anger is justified, and I apologize. I dinnae want ye to get hurt or even killed but I cannae bring myself to leave ye behind.” Joan peeped at him and saw his hand stretched out for her.
“Really?” Her sour mood had been replaced with a bright smile.
“Hurry up. If yer father sees me, he will have me head.” Joan scrambled up and took his hand.
He pulled her up, ignoring the pain in his arm until she was on the horse with her bag against her chest. “Hold on to me,” Aidan said as his horse started to race back to Ian.
Ian looked disappointed to see Joan with Aidan, but the couple was too engrossed with each other to think of him.
I have to protect her, Ian. I care about her too much to leave her stranded.
They set out into the darkness and Joan finally slept.
“Why did ye bring her?" Ian said, a small sneer playing on his face.
Aidan looked down at Joan's sleeping face and gave a small smile. “I daenae know.”
“She is a threat.”
Aidan glared at Ian.
“She is English and ye are Scottish. Daenae take offense but even ye should know that whatever ye have with her will nae last.”
“Why are ye always so pessimistic?” Aidan shot back at him, making Ian flinched at his friend's irritated tone.
“Ye have so many women waiting on ye in Rattray. Ye could bed anyone yet ye go to such lengths for an English lass. I will never understand ye.” Ian didn't wait for a reply as he urged his horse to move faster.
Aidan heard the hooting of an owl as he looked at the sleeping girl and frowned at the thought of what Ian had said. He shook his head and cracked the rein to get his horse to meet up with Ian's.
Lord Tyrill busied himself in his study as usual. He sat still on a wooden chair while he read a book on ancient war strategies. His chair was positioned so that the rays of the morning sun could fall directly on his book. He flipped to the last page. His mind momentarily wandered to the war threats from the Scots.
If only I could fight again, I would finally put the Scots in their rightful place.
He finished the last page and stood up to return the book to his shelf.
Why does Joan complain so much about everything? I have given her all she could need, and when the time comes, I'll find her a husband that can take care of her as I have, not some Scottish savage.
A maidservant rushed in and interrupted his thoughts “The lady is missing! My Lord! The lady is missing!”
“Joan?” Lord Tyrill froze as the maid collapsed at his feet.
“I woke up to an empty bed! I searched the entire estate! She is nowhere to be found!” she explained.
Lord Tyrill dropped the book and dashed toward his daughter's room. Sebastian and Sir James were fast behind him.
The door was ajar when they entered and Sebastian immediately noticed a piece of paper lying on her desk.
“Milord, she left something.” He snatched the paper and Lord Tyrill took it from him. As his eyes ran over the smudged words, his hands started to tremble. Fear washed over him and he started to feel his legs wobble. Sir James took the letter from him and glanced through it.
“She ran away,” he said to Sebastian. “I'll send out guards immediately,” he said and dashed out of the room.
This is it. The curse has begun.
“Where did she go?” the Lord asked weakly as he held on to her bed post for support. He was trembling. “What if she got to her?” he whispered to himself. “If the witch got Joan?” He raised his sleeve and saw his scar was not bleeding. “Where is she?” Sebastian looked at the man and left to go find the head guard, leaving Lord Tyrill alone.
Lord Tyrill fell to his knees, still trembling. He clawed around the wooden floor until he got to a small chip in the floorboard. He pulled up the board and pulled out a small dagger.
“I know where she went.” He shut the wood back down. “She is with that Scot. He must be working for the witch. He has not gotten to the witch yet, that must be why my scar has not bled.” He got to his feet and stumbled to the door.
Did he kidnap her? Did he force her to write that letter? He must have. It was smudged from tears. If she wanted to run, she would not cry so much. He took her. She cannot run away, she doesn't have anywhere to run to. He took her.
He slowly made his way down the hall, his hand getting tighter around the dagger. “I will kill him for it.”
They had been traveling for a day, only setting up camp once because of Aidan's injuries. Joan looked over to where Aidan was and she was surprised that he could still do most of the work despite the beating he received.
She huddled closer to the fire to warm her cold hands as Aidan and Ian discussed something about a Scottish laird. She didn't pay much attention to them.
“How far do you think we are from England?” she interrupted their conversion.
“We just passed the border, Joan,” Ian answered and she nodded. “The denser part of the forest is just a coupla miles away.” They went back to their conversation until she heard Ian get up and saw him grab his sword. She stared at him and he gave her an apologetic smile. “Did I scare ye?” he teased, and her face went red. He turned to Aidan. “I will be back. We need food and we dinnae pack enough for three,” he said as he picked up a bag and went into the forest.
“He doesn't seem to like me,” Joan pointed out to Aidan.
“He does. Ian is just a wee more wary when it comes to English people,” Aidan said, as she picked out a blanket and covered herself with it.
“Why?”
“I dinnae ken but I ken he will loosen up soon.” She leaned back on him and he put an arm around her. Soon she started to drift away but sat up when she heard rustling in the forest. She saw Aidan reach for his sword. There were voices but it was very hard to understand because they were whispering. “Stay here,” Aidan said as he slowly got up and moved closer to the voices.
“It looks like a couple,” the first voice said. “They are alone.”
“The man looks tired. He should be easy. We kill him and take the woman and their belongings,” another voice said, making Joan whimper.
What? Kill us?
Fear washed over her when she heard the increased rustling noise as they moved toward them. She looked around and suddenly couldn't see Aidan.
Run!
Panic struck her as she shot to her feet, ready to run, when the men burst out of the bushes. One caught the hem of her dress. She screamed as she fell to the ground, the person falling right on top of her.
“We can get the girl and the goods. She looks well fed, we will get a good price for her,” one of the men said.
Her face was pressed to the ground, the dirt covering her face and tears running freely. Her assailant held her by her hair and her head was forcefully raised backwards.
She suddenly felt the hand in her hair loosen and the weight was lifted off her. She scrambled to her feet and saw Aidan, his face splashed with blood. She looked at the man who had been on top of her lying on the ground a few feet from her. He was clutching his arm and howling in pain.
She instantly saw why he was in so much pain. Aidan had cut the thief's hand off her hair. She felt all the fruit she had eaten earlier rush back up her throat upon seeing the severed wrist, but she managed to keep it down. Aidan worriedly rushed to her side.
“Are you all righ
t?” he asked, searching for any injuries on her body.
“I think so,” she replied.
Aidan turned to the second man who had been loading their belongings in his bag. The man was frozen in fear until Aidan got into a fighting stance. The thief pulled out a dirty, old sword and he charged toward Aidan with his sword in front of him.
Aidan easily dodged the attack as he slid to the left and kicked the surprised thief in the side. The thief swung clumsily at Aidan but he blocked it with his sword. With one push, Aidan was able to knock the sword out of his hand and the sword broke in half. One half fell next to Joan and the other was imbedded in the soil.
Highlander's Cursed Bride: A Steamy Scottish Historical Romance Novel Page 5