Once Forbidden

by TERRI BRISBIN

  A wet cloth followed for her head. As the coldness of the stream's water pressed against the bump on her forehead, it did soothe some of the pain. A few minutes later, another icy compress replaced the first. Mayhap it was the cold or the dampness, but very soon Anice realized that her body had needs to be seen to. She lifted her head to see where Robert was.

  "Robert, I must..."

  "Here, let me help ye to yer feet. Ye can see to yer needs near the stream." He nodded his head off to the left. Reaching out his hands, he took hers and gently pulled her up.

  The forest spun around her as she tried to get her balance. Her stomach clenched and she thought she'd be sick all over Robert, but it calmed a few seconds later. Her ankle, however, had been twisted in the fall and would not hold her weight. She gasped at the pain.

  "Yer head?"

  "Nay, my ankle. 'Tis twisted. I fear I cannot walk on it."

  She sat back down and he crouched once more in front of her with his hands outstretched. Anice held out the injured part and braced herself as he touched it. His fingers were warm and strong as they pressed around the joint, seeking a break in the bones. He moved it within his grasp to see how it functioned. Soon he put her foot down. She let out the breath she did not know she held.

  "I feel no broken bones and the swelling, though painful, is no' severe. Here, let me help ye to the stream and I will bind it for ye after ye finish there."

  It took more time than she thought it would to get there, take care of her needs, clean up, and then return to the campsite. Robert had assisted her in getting there, but left her alone for privacy. She stumbled along, putting most of her weight on the uninjured ankle, to find Robert holding Craig up in the air and mumbling at him. The babe's response was to drool on him. She felt her strength waning as she finished changing Craig. She was about to take his soiled clothing to the stream to wash it when Robert stopped her.

  "Yer color haes gone pale, Anice. Why do you no' take a short rest before we leave?"

  "Leave?" She felt light-headed at the very thought of going back.

  "Since we are closer to Dunbarton, I thought we should go there and send word back to Struan. There is a hunter's croft not far into MacKillop land where we can stay the night and reach Dunbarton sometime tomorrow." He looked at her, apparently waiting for her agreement.

  "If we must.... If there is no other way....?" She prayed to the Almighty that one of them would think of some other way.

  He just grunted and moved away. She lay down and brought her son near. Soon a plaid was thrown over them and covered them against any chill in the shade on this summer's day in the Highlands. Craig would need to eat again in a short while, but she should be able to rest for a while. Mayhap that would help the throbbing in her head and the aching in her heart.

  Chapter 18

  If she'd cut his heart out with a spoon, it could not have hurt any more than it did now. Every word, every glance, every plea she whispered under her breath, tore into his soul and left him in shreds. Even now, it hurt to glance over at her as she rode next to him and see the defeat and desperation in her eyes. But what choice did he have in this? Struan would be out searching for her as soon as her absence was noticed. He had his own suspicions about why Struan never pursued Sandy's killer, but he could not let this go. It would not take long before Struan began to suspect that they might be together. And what he'd told her was true—she could be killed for what she'd done.

  Robert looked overhead, trying to gauge the setting sun's position and how much time they had left to reach the croft before dark. It had been difficult for Anice to sit on her pony because of her head injury. He had offered to take her up before him but she refused. Now he was about to insist or they would face another night in the forest.

  He forced himself to look at her once more. She cradled the babe within the sling in front of her. Craig's behavior had been most accommodating so far; he'd slept and ate or he'd lain within his plaid wrapper lulled into compliance by the soft rocking motion of the pony's walk. He would be ready to eat soon and Robert hoped that Anice's endurance would not give out yet.

  He slowed Dubh down to come next to her. She looked over at him with the same fearful expression he'd seen so many times during her pregnancy. Seeing it again reminded him of how much he hated it.

  "Come, ride with me." He held out his hands to help her over.

  "Nay." She shook her head to emphasize her refusal.

  He simply leaned over and lifted her and the babe onto his lap. She turned to rock in his arms, not moving, not resting back against him even when he urged his stallion forward. The feel of her in his arms was simply too much to ignore. He urged her with gentle motions to lean back. Her exhaustion must have won the argument for a few minutes later, she did rest against him.

  "We can get to the croft much faster this way, Anice. I dinna want ye and the babe wi'out shelter tonight. From the feel of the wind, a storm is coming our way."

  She nodded but said nothing. With her positioned on his spread legs, he could hardly breathe. 'Twas not her weight that caused it of course, but the thoughts that ran rampant in his mind. And his body responded. The ride was both heaven and hell.

  * ~ * ~ *

  They arrived at the croft just after sunset and not a moment too soon. Robert had no sooner watered and fed the horses and placed them in the lean-to behind the croft, than the skies opened and poured down rain. The small cottage would offer them shelter and some measure of comfort against the weather for the night. He could go to the keep tomorrow and get some additional supplies and food.

  He put some peat in the small hearth and, with a flint, finally got it burning. Once that was started, he set out to make up a sleeping area for Anice and the babe. Using a wooden pallet in one corner, he spread out the several blankets they had between them and then offered it to her with a motion of his hand. She had stopped speaking to him or the babe several hours ago. Walking slowly over to the platform, she lifted the babe out and laid him on the makeshift bed.

  Robert busied himself with the food while she changed the babe once more. Some stores of flour and oats were sealed in stone jars up on a shelf and he helped himself to what he needed. This cottage was kept stocked at all times for any of the clan who traveled or hunted in the hunting grounds nearby.

  He held out his waterskin to her and waited for her to drink her fill. She'd told him that she needed more to drink since she was nursing. So, each time he thought of it, he offered something to her. If her milk dried up now, it would be disastrous. Their meal was simple—more porridge, more hard cheese, and some watered ale. He was exhausted and longed for sleep but he wanted her and the babe to settle down before he did. Part of him suspected that she might try to escape in the night, so he planned to sleep in front of the door.

  For now, he stood in the doorway and listened as the rain poured down around them, on the trees and the bushes and onto the ground. He tried very hard not to listen to the noises of the babe behind him, feeding once more. He tried to force the images of that from his mind, to no avail. This would be another long and restless night.

  Soon, she and Craig lay huddled together under several layers of wool, protected by the tartan's weave from wet and cold. He spread another on the packed-dirt floor and blocked the door. Robert was certain that sleep would not come, but soon he felt his body relaxing into it. Then her voice sliced the silence.

  "He thought I'd given myself to someone else before him." Robert did not understand her meaning.

  "Who did?"

  "Sandy. Two years ago, we were visited by a distant cousin who looked enough like Sandy to be mistaken for him." Her voice lacked any emotion or variation and it frightened him. "Alex MacKendimen," she said with a sigh, "was the heir that the clan wanted, but could not have."

  "Who was he, Anice?"

  "Moira said he was a distant cousin who came here with his leman, Maggie. I do not know the whole of it, but he left here after several months and we never saw h
im again."

  "And Sandy thought ye'd given yerself to him, believing him yer betrothed?" He heard the rustling of the covers as she moved on her pallet. He thought she now sat up but 'twas so dark he could not tell for certain.

  "No matter who tried to tell him or how many times they reassured him, he claimed I was a whore and would pay for humiliating him before the clan with my disgusting behavior."

  "What did Struan do to protect ye? Surely he—"

  "He sent Sandy back to England for a year to try to calm his anger down." She paused and he waited for what he knew was coming. "He came for the wedding in even more of a rage for being held off."

  "Anice, ye dinna have to speak of this."

  "But I do, Robert. You must know why I cannot return and put myself under another man's control. I would rather..." She stopped and he could hear that her breathing had grown ragged. When it calmed, she began again.

  "He beat me first and then forced himself inside of me before I even knew what happened. My struggles seemed to excite him and he did things to me and forced me to do things I had never even dreamed possible between a man and woman. He said over and over that my behavior with Alex was the reason for it. And he told me that he would do this any time he wanted since I was now his wife."

  He gagged listening to her haunted words. He wanted her to stop, but part of him knew she needed to say the words. He forced himself to remain quiet.

  "He punished me when I gave up fighting. He even threatened to share me with the men he'd brought back with him from England."

  The same men who had brutalized Robena the night before the wedding, he thought.

  "And over and over he told me that this would be my fate with him. To be taken as he wanted, to be beaten at his whim, to be shared whenever I did not please him. Until parted by death, he said. Just like in our vows. Until parted by death."

  His forehead was clammy with sweat and he sat up. His stomach rolled and lurched now, sickened almost beyond his control. He would have killed Sandy dozens of times over if he'd been alive. For Anice, for Robena. How could Struan have stood by and let this happen?

  "Firtha found me the next morning when Sandy left the room and called Moira and Struan. Moira saved my life, but I did not want to live, facing that kind of hellish existence with him. So, a few days after that I decided that I would separate us by death and I cut my own wrists."

  He could not help the gasp that was torn from him by her words. Dear God in heaven, she had tried to end her own life? That was the gravest sin a soul could commit. The church even taught that it was worse in the eyes of God than killing someone else. Killing could be justified in many circumstances, but not taking one's own life. Those who committed suicide were buried in unblessed ground, exiled for eternity from all who they loved in life.

  And his monster-brother had driven this innocent young girl to such a fate. He hoped Sandy was burning in the everlasting fires of hell right now for all the destruction he caused during his life.

  "Firtha found me again, but it was only when Struan pledged his protection of me that I decided to try to live. Those weeks are cloaked in darkness for me; I do not remember much of them at all."

  She took a long deep breath in and let it out slowly. He could not breathe easily.

  "'Twas when I found out that I was with child that I grasped at life and tried to function once more within the clan. But the carrying was more difficult. Moira said the damage he caused inside me was to blame for the hard pregnancy."

  Robert immediately thought of what Sandy's damage had done to Robena as well. He could only imagine, nay, he could not even begin to imagine what his brother had done or why. Another wave of cold sweat poured over him and he got to his feet, knowing what was about to happen.

  "You needed to know the truth of why I can never marry again. I have never been able to bring myself to confess my sin and I could not in good conscience enter into marriage with a man who did not know the truth. The most frightening thing to me even now is that I know that I would rather end my life than go through that horror again."

  He pushed open the thin wooden door and ran out into the still-raging storm. The sting of the frigid downpour could not calm his rage. He ran until he could run no more and then bent over and vomited up the contents of his stomach. The dry heaving continued for many minutes until he could no longer stand. He sank to his knees in the mud and waited for his body's reaction to Anice's words to cease.

  Soon he could breathe again and he sat back on his heels, allowing the rain to stream over him. Drenched through to the skin, he felt the biting drops and the weight of his plaid as it sopped up the moisture, but he could not gather enough strength to take cover.

  Anice's description of Sandy's behavior and attack had seared him. Unwilling to hear it and unable to ignore her voice, Robert could sense the desperation that she felt. It was not so much in her words as in the complete lack of emotion. She recited the events of her wedding night as though she'd watched it happen to another person and had not suffered the blows delivered by her husband.

  His brother.

  A shiver wracked his body, whether caused by the rain or the horror, he did not know. And what could he do now that he knew? Could he return her as he'd planned to when he first found her? Although he knew that Angus MacLaren was a decent man and that no one spit on the ground and crossed themselves when his name was mentioned, he realized that was not enough to bring Anice any sense of security for her future. And, could he take her back knowing it was to give her to another?

  Robert leaned his face up and let the rain wash over it once more. Filling his mouth and spitting out the vile taste within it, he rose to his feet and tried to gauge his location. He'd run along the muddy trail, so he began the walk back to the croft. The storm lessened as he trudged slowly, following the path in the darkness, and when he reached the small hut, the rain had lessened to a drizzle. He unwrapped his plaid and wrung out as much of the water as he could. Hanging it over the ledge of one of the windows, he tugged the sodden shirt over his head and did the same. Trying to be as quiet as possible, he opened the door and crept to the pile of wool he'd left on the floor.

  He wrapped himself in one of the covers and lay on his back listening to the sounds of the night return as the storm moved on through the glen. Rain dripping from trees into puddles, the cries of the birds of night echoing in the air, and the soft snoring of mother and child filled the croft. He thought over his choices. He actually had none—he had no place in this decision to barter her off to another clan for property and power. By the laws of God and king, her father could do as he wanted with her now that she was free from her marriage. And Struan was within his rights as laird of the MacKendimens to keep his grandson and heir with him when she left.

  But knowing they could do this did not diminish his own belief that it was wrong. If not the deed, then the timing of it. He felt certain that if given enough time, Anice could reconcile herself to marrying again. Many women did after becoming widows; even her maid and friend Firtha had. With sufficient time to adjust and to witness the good marriages around her and to familiarize herself with the man who would marry her, Anice could tame her fears.

  Time, however, was the one thing Anice did not have. He knew that once she and the bairn were known to be missing, Struan would have men searching for her. He would send to the summer shielings in the grazing lands, he would search all of Dunnedin and the surrounding areas, and he would send messengers out to his allies with word of her disappearance. Robert was certain that those messages would reach the MacKillop before he did.

  Turning to his side, he tried to fall asleep even as his thoughts still churned away in his mind. The one thought that seemed to dominate was that he had no standing in this. His obligation was to return her to her clan and their decision of her future. Complicating that clear duty was the knowledge that she had lost all bargaining power she might have had with this rash move. Even as he suggested she negotiate with Struan
to keep her son, he knew that it would not happen now. Craig would be stripped from her and given to some other woman to care for and Anice would be taken, forcibly if needed, back to her father—all for defying those who had the right to control her life.

  And, if her words were true, that would send her back to the only option she thought she had. She'd tried once to end her life and he doubted not that she would try again. Especially, he thought, if her son was taken from her. He shuddered at such a sin. How could he bear it, knowing he'd brought her to it? Letting out a long frustrated breath, he searched his mind for a way to help her. He knew he was the only one who could. But how? How could he get her out of this situation with her life and her ties to her son intact?

  Chapter 19

  The soft voice and loving words sounded like a song. He smiled, still in that time between awake and asleep, and listened, without letting her know, as Anice talked to her son. There were no words he recognized in what she said, but the babe did not seem to mind. Craig focused on her mouth as though he understood every sound she made. Then the croft was filled with his laughter; small giggles shook the babe's body and made Robert want to laugh with him. Anice just smiled and leaned down to kiss Craig's forehead. When she looked up, their gazes locked.

  The nasty bruise drew his attention—its color and shape lessened since yesterday, but it must still have been painful. Set on her white skin, it increased the paleness of her complexion. His gaze drifted over her face and neck and down to the opening in her blouse. It was obvious she'd been nursing her son for the laces were loose and it hung down on one shoulder, exposing more than that to him. Startled by a burp from the babe, he looked up and saw that she noticed where his eyes had been looking. She tugged on the laces, bringing the edges of the blouse together and removing that creamy shoulder and breast from his inspection.