Highland Promise by Hannah Howell Read Free Book Online Page B

things scattered around on the bank, including their very wet clothes, then settled James in a dry blanket sling across her chest.
    It was not easy getting Eric up into the saddle, but, after some pushing, it was done. Bethia took a deep breath to steady herself, then mounted in front of him and took up the reins. Although she considered herself a good rider, she had never handled a warhorse before, nor even any horse as big as Connor, and she was not sure how well she would do. The moment Eric wrapped his arms around her waist and was resting steadily against her back, she nudged Connor into a slow amble.
    “We could go a wee bit faster, lass,” Eric said, a little concerned over how slowly the warmth was returning to his body.
    “Nay, not until I get to ken this beastie a wee bit better,” she replied. “Do ye think William is nigh?”
    “He would have to be in France ere I ceased to think that he was too nigh. Nay, e’en that would be too close.”
    “Aye. I wouldst prefer him and his loathsome sons dead and buried.”
    Eric smiled weakly against her wet hair. “Ye always call them his loathsome sons .”
    “All ye would have to do is see them once and ye would understand. They are huge, dark, hulking beasties with cold eyes that clearly reveal their bone-deep meanness. William feels that he has a sound reason for murdering people. His sons dinnae want or need one.” Bethia sighed and shook her head. “Dunncraig would probably be knee-deep in bodies, save that William holds a tight rein on that evil pair. They do, however, abuse the lasses within their reach with impunity. I saw that soon after my arrival. Aye, and did so despite the weight of my grief. It did puzzle me some that Sorcha ne’er did.”
    It was getting harder not to offer a rather sharp, unflattering opinion upon Sorcha. Eric suspected the woman would never have seen the plight of the women on her lands simply because she probably never really noticed who did all of the work. If the woman was unable to see the sad plight of her own twin for years, she would certainly never notice some poor maid’s distress. That was more truth than Bethia would want to deal with now, however. Eric was not sure she would ever wish to do so.
    Holding his tongue concerning Sorcha was going to prove difficult if he and Bethia got married. Eric was forming a picture of the woman as vain, completely self-concerned and selfish, and probably irresponsible. It was possible for the woman to have been all of those things and worse, yet still appear sweet and charming. It was becoming clear that no one had ever denied Sorcha anything. Sorcha Drummond had been able to trip through her, admittedly, sadly shortened life happy and smiling disarmingly, for people had scurried to remove all obstacles from her path or she had simply ignored them. Someday Bethia was going to relate one tale too many revealing her sister’s charming disregard for all around her and Eric feared he might feel compelled to tell her a few cold truths. Perhaps, he thought with a wry smile, the constant battle to allow Bethia her delusions about her twin would be the penance he had to pay for seducing her.
    Too exhausted to keep talking, Eric clung to Bethia and tried to regain his strength. His head throbbed and his body ached all over from the battering it had taken in the river. There was a painful knot too low in his throat to clear away and his lungs ached with every breath he took. Eric feared he had not cleared all of the water from his body.
    A few more miles passed before Eric realized that he needed to stop moving. He was not going to get the rest he needed to recoup his strength sitting on the back of a horse. What he needed was a bed, no matter how rough, perhaps a little food, and a long rest. It was not safe to pause for too long while Robert Drummond’s murderous kinsmendogged their trail, but without a good rest, Eric knew he would collapse, and could easily become too ill to move for