Page 13 of To Claim His Highland Bride

Rowena smiled. “My brothers are not the only clever ones in this family.” Her smile slipped a heartbeat later. “Though I must admit even though I am a strong swimmer, I had difficulty in the currents. That’s when I had a little help making it to shore.”

Alastair’s brows came together. “What do you mean?”

Rowena pursed her lips. “You know how mother always warned us about getting too close to the seals?”

He nodded, though confusion filled his dark eyes. “Did they somehow help you escape?”

“It was the strangest thing. The light seals with dark speckles surrounded me, pulling me deeper. I couldn’t break free and pull myself back to the surface for air. Then, out of nowhere, the dark seals with light spots attacked the lighter ones and lifted me to the surface. They propelled me towards the beach, putting themselves between me and Bryce’s boat when it came after us. I hardly know what to think.”

Alastair frowned. “I’m sure mother will have an opinion on the matter. Nevertheless, I am so grateful you were not harmed by Bryce or the seals. Now that you are back, there is no need to figure out how to pay the ransom that Marcus would not.”

Rowena’s breath hitched as she turned to Marcus. “You refused to pay the ransom?”

Marcus held out his hand. “Come, let us return you to the castle and allow you to clean up and eat something, then we will talk.”

She knew her hair was a tousled mess, her clothes were limp and drenched with water, but even so she hesitated, narrowing her eyes, more curious about what Marcus didn’t say than what he did. The morning breeze raced across her exposed flesh. She shivered, whether from cold or a sense of impending doom, she wasn’t certain.

Avoiding Marcus’s outstretched hand, she stepped around him, holding her wet skirts above her ankles. She would return to the castle. The next time she stood before Marcus he would remember what he’d been missing over the past months.

*

Rowena entered the rear courtyard and was instantly set upon by both Gwendolyn and Fiona who had obviously been watching what happened below through the crenellations in the rear wall. Rowena was swept into the castle away from Marcus.

“We’ve been so worried.” Fiona hooked her arm through Rowena’s and conveyed her up the stairs towards the family bedchambers. Gwendolyn followed along more slowly with a hand below her swollen abdomen.

“Are you certain there is only one baby in there?” Rowena asked, concerned that at seven-and-a-half-months pregnant her sister-in-law seemed larger than most other expectant women she’d known.

Gwendolyn chuckled. “The last time Lottie checked, she only heard one heartbeat.” The expectant mother rubbed a hand across her abdomen. “Don’t worry. This little warrior simply wants to hurry this process along.” She gained the top of the stairs then leaned against the banister to catch her breath. “Go on to the chamber. I’ll catch up to you in a moment.”

Fiona nodded and continued down the hallway with Rowena. “As soon as Mrs Morgan discovered it was you who came out of the water, she insisted on preparing a hip bath and a hot meal for you in your chamber.”

The chatelaine had been like a second mother to all the MacLeod children. Entering the bedchamber, Mrs Morgan’s kind eyes widened at the sight of Rowena. “Good heavens. Looks like you brought half of the kelp in the loch back in your hair.” Before Rowena could say anything, her wet gown was loosened and lowered by the chatelaine while Fiona removed her half-boots and stockings. They both divested her of her undergarments until she stood naked before them.

“Get in the water,” Mrs Morgan encouraged as she handed Fiona a thick shaving of heather-scented soap. “I’ll leave you ladies to finish up here. Mrs Honey sent up a bowl of pottage and fresh bread from the kitchen.”

Gwendolyn entered and sat on the bed, her feet dangling over the side while Fiona plucked kelp from Rowena’s hair. “Marcus is back,” Gwendolyn said with an arched brow.

“Marcus is back, but he’s different than when he left.” Rowena’s stomach fluttered with nervousness. “He seems uncertain about us, about me.” The happiness in his eyes had vanished.

“You have nothing to worry about,” Fiona assured her, scrubbing her hair now with the soap. “He was so in love with you when he left. That kind of connection doesn’t disappear no matter how long a couple has been separated.”

“He’s simply apprehensive, seeing you again,” Gwendolyn said. “I was terrified to see Alastair after being separated for five years. But all the feelings we had for each other were still there. They simply needed to be coaxed out a bit. And that’s where we come in.” She winked at Fiona. “When we are done with you, he’ll remember everything he gave up when he left.”

At Gwendolyn’s words of encouragement, the tiniest prick of hope sprang to life in Rowena’s chest.

When her bath was finished, Gwendolyn held out a robe, then Fiona sat Rowena near the fire to dry her hair and encouraged her to eat. The simple meal tasted wonderful and warmed her in places the hot bath water had not.

Once she was through, Fiona got to work dressing her while Gwendolyn watched from the bed. A chemise with lace edging the low neckline was thrown over her head and stays were added then laced to push her breasts upwards. Stocking were rolled up over her legs and secured with a bow at her knees.

Rowena mustered a smile to match Gwendolyn and Fiona’s excitement. There was so much emotion swirling inside her that she wasn’t certain she wouldn’t crumble once she stood before Marcus again, instead of remaining strong.

Fiona shook out a burgundy gown with little pink thistles stitched with silk thread along the hem and sleeves. Gathering it together, she tossed it over Rowena’s head, allowing it to float down over her hips a moment before she cinched the back together. The full skirt belled out, making Rowena’s waist look small. The stays lifted her breasts high so that the swell of them just breached the lace edge of the chemise above the gown’s square neckline. And the pink thistles edging the hem and sleeves of her gown complemented the pink in her cheeks.

“You look lovely.” Fiona stepped back and smiled.

Gwendolyn nodded her approval. “You’re stunning.”

“Now to see to your hair. Would you like a weaving? A plait?” Fiona asked as she picked up a brush.