A movement at the far end of the keep caught his eye. He saw the figure poke its head out of the window and take it back in. He knew exactly who the damned figure was. Darach immediately threw on his tunic and rushed outside of his chambers toward the abbey where he’d seen her. He opened the door as she was poking her head out of the window once again, her body almost out of the frame. The hair on the back of his nape stood up as he saw the future before it happened, yet he was too slow to do anything about it.
“Jane! Dinnae—”
Her feet slipped off the stool, and she tried to grab at a branch. She failed, and her screech of fear filled the air as she toppled out of the window.
Darach covered the ground in desperation and grabbed her at the waist before she fully fell out. Fury seared through him at her stubbornness which had almost led to her death.
“What in God's name are ye thinkin'? Are ye so interested in challenging death?”
She didn't respond, and all he saw was a blur of her night shift. Then she slammed her small, bunched fist into his face. The hard and square impact landed directly on his jaw.
He was caught completely off guard, as he'd never been before, and she took advantage of the chance to start running toward the door.
CHAPTERFIFTEEN
Ishould have never gone for the horse ride.
Jane paced in front of the window of her chamber. Darach Robertson was impossible.
After revealing that the horse was for his wife, he had refused to speak to her. And then she'd discovered things about him she'd rather not know. He'd been described to her as controlling, overbearing, arrogant, and handsome, with a wicked touch that set her on fire. He'd never struck her as compassionate.
But that was how his sister had described him, and she couldn't get the image of who he was out of her head. He was a hero, not the villain who had kidnapped her from her father's home, a hero with a weaknessand a curse.
Lorna had made it ominous when she spoke about said curse that stood heavy on Darach's shoulder. Now she could understand why he seemed awfully possessive of those he considered under his protection. He might truly have a large and competent army, which was evident by the numbers in the courtyard and the intensity of their training, but they were more formidable because they knew he cared about each and every one of them. And they trusted his word.
He'd promised Jane she'd have his protection, and he'd given it to her. He treated her like a guest in his home and even sneaked in to see her and give her books.
Does he truly hold affection for me, as his sister said?
No, she couldn't truly be giving serious consideration to such a notion. That was just wishful thinking on his sister's part, and flutterings of the heart and skin were insufficient reasons to consider affection for a man. She hadn't had much contact with men in her life. She'd only met them in her father's court, and the majority of them were wimps with frail minds and loud mouths. She could also recall random conversations between maids and their fear that women's lives would be irreversibly altered if they fell into the wrong hands.
She didn’t feel that fear with Darach Robertson. Oh, she feared him enough, but she knew he’d never mistreat her. She'd often seen that he’d had ample opportunity—and desire—to strangle her, and yet he held his temper each time. Even when she'd given him so much trouble, he hadn’t made a single move to harm her. She was fast coming to the conclusion that he was all bluster, and his sister had further proved it by telling her his tale. He was a sweet man. The thought made her smile. He did like to frown. It seemed the Robertson men liked that because his brother rarely smiled as well, but she'd witnessed Darach smile. It was heavenly.
Now his good side frightened her. She couldn't believe his sister's words about him.
Is she insane for even considering the laird has affection for me?
Jane walked toward the window and watched as shadows darkened the rolling hills surrounding the keep.
There was a distant sound of dogs barking. The land was bathed in the purple glow of dusk. The hills were covered with light fog, and the day was tucked into bed.
This could be her life. In just a matter of days, she had become used to the keep and the clan. She no longer feared that at any moment she could be harmed. The warriors recognized her, and the maids paid her respect. The daily walks through the courtyard with Lorna and the laird's visit with a new book at night had started to be things she looked forward to each day. But as the dark cloak of the night settled over the lands, Jane knew she must leave it all behind. She needed to help him win freedom for his men and also run from this fierce longing inside her.
She would leave tonight. She would escape through the window of the abbey across the hall because she'd noticed its wall had a tree from which she could climb out.
She turned her eyes heavenward and whispered a fervent prayer. “Please. Let this be the right decision.”
When the clock struck midnight, Jane knew it was a scant two hours before Wiley led his group on patrol past the hallway. And she also knew, from the young lad's friendly confession, that he spent those two hours speaking to a maid behind the kitchen. Jane made sure the hall was silent and then moved toward the abbey, her heart growing heavier with each step, breaking under the weight of it all.
Ye need tae do this!she told herself over and over.
She stepped inside, closed the door softly behind her, and leaned against it, looking around. This was hard for her to do, even though she’d convinced herself, after so many painful thoughts, that this was the right choice and that she would be doing everyone a favor and preserving her own life by returning home.
The prophecy still hung over her, no matter what she thought she felt for the laird or his person. It could all come crashing down in the blink of an eye.
She picked up a stool and headed to the window. She looked to see how high the branches hung over the land and saw that she was in for a long fall. She promptly pulled her head back and went to the altar to say a few prayers of protection. When she pulled the stool again, she grabbed at the branch, but her hand didn't get to it. She grabbed again and again until she finally did.
She closed her eyes, preparing to launch herself out of the window, when the door of the abbey slammed open.