Carefully, she checked each direction of the passageway, the doors leading off each side closed and only the small window at the end of the hallway allowing light to filter through. All remained clear. She snuck downstairs, ducked into the darkened alcove under the stairwell and peeked into the main room.
The MacRae’s warriors, a good score of them, had all entered and taken seats at the tables, while Mary and another two serving maids weaved around the men and passed them bowls of steaming oats and tankards of ale. She searched amongst the warriors and found Coll standing near the fireplace with Elizabeth and her father. His biceps bulged as he slid one thumb under his sword’s leather strap at his waist, the hilt of his blade gleaming.
“We didnae expect to find you here rather than at your keep.” Elizabeth batted her long lashes at him, which made her belly heave with distaste.
“I didnae expect to see you here either. Come and sit. We’ll break our fast together.” With one sweeping gesture, Coll motioned for Elizabeth and her father to sit and the three of them took their places at a table.
Aye, Coll now wished to break his fast with his betrothed rather than with her. She slid back out of sight into the nook, tears welling in her eyes and blinding her.
He’d told her countless times that he believed no bond existed between them.
For him it clearly didn’t, even though it did for her.
Their bond would be one that now never saw completion.
She dragged in a stuttered breath.
She’d promised him she wouldn’t beg him to change his mind yet again. He had no more to fear from her.
’Twas time to leave.
Coll gritted his teeth as he sat next to Elizabeth. All he wanted to do was stride back upstairs and claim his—he shook his head. Ah hell. Who was he kidding? Fiona was far more than a dear friend, and his time with her this morn had proven that to him beyond a doubt. She was his, just as he was hers. Never could he lie with this woman seated beside him. Making love with Elizabeth made him shudder with disgust.
His heart and soul belonged to the girl who’d once sat upon a ledge under a waterfall with him, their feet dangling into the pool and the sunlight playing through the sheet of water and sending pretty beams of light shimmering over her. She’d been the only one to consume his every thought since, and no matter he’d ridden away from her sixteen months ago and allowed her to wed Matthew, he’d only done so knowing theirs would be a marriage in name only.
Aye, over the years, he’d lived and breathed for her, and for the past two days, he’d been chasing her across the Highlands because she held the other half of his soul and he could be nowhere else but with her. Cherub had even appeared before her, decreed they were soul bound, and the seer, Hamish, had all but said the same as well in the words he’d imparted to Ella of his vision. How much more evidence did he need? It was only his thick head and unbending honor getting in his way from accepting his true future. One with Fiona, his soul bound mate and chosen one.
He couldn’t lose her again, not even for the sake of his own clan. Aye, he’d certainly do all he could once he’d broken his betrothal with Elizabeth to mend the discord he’d soon cause between him and the MacRae, but the chief of their allied clan had always had a fairly reasonable head on his shoulders. The man’s son had even wed a lass of fae blood, and his wee grandson had recently come into his own fae skill, that of the “power of thought.” The MacRae understood soul bonds, and hopefully he’d understand that one had formed between him and Fiona as well.
“What brought you to this inn?” Elizabeth cleared her throat from beside him, her cheeks flushed as she pressed a hand to her chest. “My apologies. I dinnae mean to pry, but we surely didnae expect to find you here.”
“An errand.” He accepted a bowl of oats from the maid and thanked her.
“That errand is now done?” She smiled so prettily and he tried heartedly hard not to scowl.
‘Nay, that errand will fill my days and nights for what I hope is the rest of my life.” As soon as he’d spoken to John MacRae, he’d find Fiona, get down on one knee and apologize to her profusely. He’d do whatever it took to gain her forgiveness, because he surely couldn’t live without her a moment longer.
“Pardon?” Eyes wide, Elizabeth frowned at him.
He had a great deal of apologizing to do, to this lass as well. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again. It would pay for him to have this conversation with her father first.
“My daughter,” the MacRae said from across the table with his brows drawn together in deep lines, “will make you a fine wife, Coll. Strengthening the allied bonds between our clans is essential.”
“I agree, John. We need to strengthen our allied bonds, but we may need to look at other ways in which we might do so.”