HIGHLAND PROMISE (THE SONS OF GREGOR MACLEOD)

Chapter Ten

Caitlin fell onto the bed, her body wracked by sobs. Her heart squeezed painfully in her chest and her stomach twisted into knots. She'd caused so much turmoil – again – that Darach had turned away from her, couldn't even look at her. She'd thought he would be pleased by her efforts, but she'd only made him despise her.

A trouble-maker. That's what he'd called her – yelled it at her. Any hopes of being his wife had withered under his fury.

A fresh wave of agony washed over her, and she curled into a ball, her breath rasping in and out of her lungs. Turning her head into the pillow, she wept for everything she'd lost. A home, a clan, a family.

Darach.

Finally, she fell asleep. When she woke, her room was dark and cold, the shutters shaking in the storm. How long had it been? An hour? Two? She had no way of knowing and didn't care. All she knew was she had to leave.

She could never again look into Darach's eyes and see his disdain for her. Or worse, his indifference.

She would take Cloud and ride as far away as possible. Maybe toward Edinburgh, where nobody cared she had once desired to be a MacKenzie. To be a real wife and mother. Where nobody cared she had been sorely abused by her uncle and given to the vile Frasers.

Opening her chamber door, she almost tripped over Fergus who slept on the floor. He lay shivering, tucked up on his side. Caitlin crouched beside him and rubbed his hair. She would miss more than just Darach when she left.

After lifting the lad and laying him on the bed, she covered him with quilts. He would be well-loved when she was gone and quickly forget he'd ever known her. As would everyone, including Darach. Soon she would be naught but a fuzzy memory.

Before she broke down again, she ran from the room and down the stairs. The hall was empty as she hurried toward the door. When she unbarred it, the wind pushed it open with a bang.

Despite the rain, she raced into the night, barely able to see through the downpour. The storm tore at her clothes and tried to push her back.

She could never go back.

The dogs brushed past her, making her jump. "Hati, Skoll, go home." She pointed toward the keep, but they dashed ahead, disappearing into the darkness.

The stable doors loomed, and she heaved them open. Inside, the horses whickered nervously. She moved blindly toward Cloud's stall and collapsed against his neck. He snuffled her cheek as if to tell her to pull herself together, she could make it on her own without Darach.

Attaching a bridle around the stallion's head, she led him into the storm. He protested at first but it was as if he sensed her desperation, and he settled down, ears pressed flat against his head in the driving rain. She used a rail around the corral to help her onto his back and then urged him toward the portcullis where a flickering torch burned.

The gate was down.

Her jaw sagged. Why was it closed? It had never been closed before. She had gone in and out of the castle on a daily basis and it had always been open. Of course, she'd never tried to leave in the middle of the night before.

"Milady?"

She jumped. Some of the clan had started calling her by that title. Darach's Lady. She'd protested at first, but inside she'd been thrilled. Now she was being punished for her conceit. She couldn't be a Lady without a Laird.

"Why is the gate closed?" she asked, barely able to push the words past her aching throat.

The lad gaped at her. He was around Gare's age and easily flustered.