Page 14 of Her Reluctant Highlander Husband

If her hands were busy, he would walk up behind her and wrap his arms around her waist, bending to kiss her neck until she squirmed. By then Isabel would be fretting for him to pick her up. He’d bend down and scoop her up, throwing her in the air to make her laugh until Maggie scolded him.

It was a happy memory, one that twisted his stomach into knots when he remembered he wasn’t going to live it ever again.

He reached the new cottage and paused outside to collect himself from the pain the memory had brought on. It was there, standing by the open window, that he heard an angel’s song. The female voice lifted and dropped fluidly with the notes of a happy tune. A dog barked and the singing stopped on a laugh.

“You naughty boy. You are indeed a rascal. No more meat for ye. Sorry, I need to save it so we won’t starve.”

Bryce gasped when he peeked through the window to see the only person in the cottage was his new wife. The woman who couldn’t speak.

Or…didn’t speak.

Rather than go inside and confront her, he turned and headed back toward the castle. He didn’t know how to manage the feeling in his chest that came from hearing her sing. For a moment, his spirits had lifted and he’d felt at peace.

But when he realized the sound had come from Dorie, the weight of his duty came back tenfold. Not only was he married, despite his wish to never wed again, but it appeared he was bound for life to a liar.

Dorie could speak. And not just speak, she could sing beautifully as well.

Why had she lied?

What was she up to?

A frown creased his forehead as several possibilities flooded his mind.

He hurried away from the cottage. She’d spoken of having meat, so he was assured she’d not go hungry today.

Meanwhile, he would watch her to see what she was up to before confronting her. If she had been brought to Dunardry to report information back to the McCurdys, his marriage might be over before it could become an even bigger nuisance.

…

Dorie tossed and turned, her stomach hurting from whatever she’d eaten that wasn’t fit. Sweat ran from her brow into her hair. She sat up when the dog ran to the door barking and growling.

Perhaps she’d poisoned her faithful friend as well. Stumbling to the door, she opened it and stepped out into the cool night air.

A chill ran up her spine where her damp skin met the cold.

Having moved too quickly, she bent to be sick in the weeds next to the cottage. The dog continued to bark savagely and took off into the trees.

“And I’d thought you faithful,” she muttered as she went back inside. With her stomach empty, she felt better, if not a bit hungry. Rather than climb back into her sweat-dampened bed, she settled in a chair by the fire to wait for Rascal to return.

Next she knew, it was morning and Rascal was barking to be let in. She stretched her aching back as she went to the door to let him in. When she gave him a pat he whimpered and her hand came back damp with blood.

“What’s happened to you?” she asked. When she knelt next to him her balance went off. She felt weak from her sickness in the night. She shook off the dizziness and looked to the scrape on the back of her dog’s neck. The dog was no longer a puppy and seemed to grow a few inches per day. His head was as high as her hip. There was hardly another dog in the village bigger than Rascal.

“Were you scrapping with some beast who got the best of you?” she asked. “Let’s clean you up. I’ve been invited to the castle today.”

The dog let out a whine.

“I know. I’ll miss you. Truth be told, I’m not feeling much up to it, but I don’t want them to think I’m ungrateful and don’t need their help.”

She skipped the morning meal, unsure of what she’d eaten that had made her ill. Her appetite had not returned yet. Nothing she’d consumed had tasted bad, but she knew that wasn’t always the case. She settled on a few sips of water and left the cottage.

Wincing up at the morning sun, she put a hand to her throbbing temple. The short walk to the castle felt like a tiring journey. Rascal followed along by her side until they got inside the bailey, and then he ran off after a cat. By the time Dorie arrived outside the kitchen, she needed to sit down.

“Dorie? Are you not well?” The voice belonged to the one person she’d wished to see every moment in the last few weeks. Well, except for right now.

Bryce came to stand before her, fear and worry in his eyes. “You’re sick?”

She shook her head, making the pain worse. She groaned, feeling nauseous again.