Although disappointed, Garrett had been relieved to know that she was with her family and, therefore, safe. As much as he had wanted to follow her right away, his duty to his clan had prevented him from doing so.
So, reluctantly, he and the two clansmen who had accompanied him had returned to their laird, bringing with them the runaway couple they had been after. The lass had been a MacDrummond while the lad had been from a neighbouring clan. While that alone would have been far from an easy situation, the fact that the lass had been promised to another had complicated matters further.
As he was well acquainted with the promised lad’s family, there had been no way for Garrett to delay returning home. The ensuing talks had taken weeks before all had been resolved, and the two lovebirds had been allowed to wed. For them, everything had ended well.
Garrett sighed as he continued to search the crowd, always hoping that the next face he’d see would be hers. Would he ever find her? How hard could it be to find an English lass? And one as spirited and striking as his wife?
A part of him could not help but worry that she had changed her mind. That she had come to regret their hasty decision. That she did not care for him after all. And yet, Garrett could not pretend that nothing had happened. If she wished to be rid of him, she would have to tell him so to his face.
In all his life, Garrett had never done anything so rash, but she had caught him off guard and swept him off his feet. There had been something about her that had touched his soul and stirred his blood. Even after all these months apart, he still longed for her, knowing beyond the shadow of a doubt that even though they barely knew each other, she was the one for him.
Setting his jaw, Garrett vowed that he would find her no matter what or how long it would take. He would find her, and then he would never let her go again.
Chapter Two - A Moment in Time
Three months later
Crestwood House was utterly silent, except for the tormented grunts and cries from the labouring woman in the large bed.
“You’re doing fine, sweetheart,” her mother whispered soothingly as she brushed a wet cloth over Claudia’s forehead. “Everything shall be all right. Do not worry.”
Sinking back into the pillows, Claudia closed her eyes, desperate to rest at least for a short moment before the next contraction would grip her body and turn it inside out once more. Her breath came in short pants and sweat ran down her temple before her mother could wipe it away.
Again, silence fell over the house−if only for a fleeting moment−and Claudia felt reminded of the past three months she had spent in this tomb far away from everything she held dear.
Far out in the country, Crestwood House was a small manor house with nothing around it as far as the eye could see. There were no small villages or even an occasional neighbour. Nothing.
Only silence.
In order to keep her condition a secret, her brother had insisted she−and her mother−retreat to this place in the middle of nowhere until the child was born. Therefore, the staff had been reduced to an utter minimum, leaving them with only a trusted maid, a cook and someone to tend to the general upkeep of the house. They worked like ghosts, never quite there, doing their chores without being seen.
The silence had nearly driven Claudia mad.
For months, she had wandered the halls, the grounds, any place her feet would carry her with a heavy heart. Certainly, her mother had been there, constantly trying to cheer her up, to distract her, to keep her mind focused on all kinds of trivial things. Still, all her efforts had not been able to lift the fear and dread from Claudia’s heart.
While her rational mind had concluded that there was no way she could keep her child, her heart refused to abandon hope so easily. Again, and again, Claudia whispered to herself in the dark of night that she was doing the right thing. That her child would grow up in a loving family, safe and sound. It would want for nothing. Her brother had promised to make sure of that, and he never broke his word.
And yet, the ache never left her.
In her dreams, Claudia often saw her son’s smiling face as she rocked him in her arms until his eyes closed and he fell asleep. She could smell his hair and feel the soft smoothness of his skin. She saw the brilliant blue of his eyes and felt the quiet strength in the way he held on to her finger. These dreams brought her peace, at least for a short while; for upon waking, all the pain and dread would return, threatening to crush her.
Then she would curl into a ball, arms wrapped tightly around her rounded belly, and weep into her pillows until the sun rose the next day.
Once a month, her brother and his new wife, Evelyn, would come to visit, which was a welcome diversion from the dreariness of everyday life. Evelyn was a strong and competent woman, a doctor in her own right, who had come to Farnworth Manor to see to Claudia when she had collapsed after an argument with her brother.
Claudia liked to think that if she had not made the mistake of following William to Scotland, if she had not stayed behind and slept with a stranger, if she had not gotten with child, then Evelyn would not have come to Farnworth Manor…and her brother would have missed out on the love of his life. Sometimes fate worked in unusual ways, and sometimes Claudia wondered why everything had happened the way it had. What would come of it? It had led to something wonderful for her brother while at the same time guiding her down a path full of heartbreak. Was this it?
Ever since Evelyn had joined their family, thawing Richard’s heart, Claudia and her brother had been much closer. Although she still could not understand the way his mind worked, the way he saw the world, she could see now how hard he tried to be a good brother, how much he wanted to protect her, how much he loved her.
All of them had come closer as a family.
If only she could keep her son.
Why, Claudia could not say, but in her heart she always pictured a little boy, and she had to force herself to ignore the names that rose in her mind. No, she would not name him. She would not be his mother, and so she would not name him. If she chose his name, would she be able to say goodbye?
Her days were filled with dread as she awaited the day that life would rip them apart and send them down different paths.
And now that day had come.
Another contraction gripped Claudia and the pain held her in its iron fist. And yet, it was not her body that suffered the most, but her heart, for she knew that each contraction brought her closer to the moment she would have to give up her child. Do not look at him! Something deep inside her whispered. Not even for a moment. Do not look at him!
When the contraction released her, Claudia sank back into the pillows, her mind closed to everything around her. She barely heard her mother’s voice or noticed the doctor−whoever he was−tend to her. Was it day or night? She could not tell. All her heart had to cling to were the last final moments with her son. Still, there was no joy in it, no happiness.
Only dread.
And sorrow.
And then something changed.
The next contraction had Claudia reaching for her knees as instinct took over. Bearing down, she gritted her teeth, trying with all her strength to bring her son into the world.
This was it. The moment she had been dreading for months was upon her.
Tears streamed down Claudia’s face as she forced herself to close off her heart. She pinched her eyes shut, feeling the pain tear through her, and then…he was gone.