Read Online Child of the Mist by Kathleen Morgan - Free Book Online
Authors: Kathleen Morgan
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intense blue eyes, deep and fathomless as the waters of mighty Loch Awe, smilingly swept over her. Then his lips touched hers, gently covering her mouth.
It was too much. First the cold ownership of Niall's kiss, and now Iain's expert assault. She'd never kissed a grown man, aside from her father's affectionate caresses, and now to have two in one day! Anne groaned in dismay, moving to push Iain away.
"Enough, cousin." Stirred by the unexpected surge of possessiveness Anne's small sound evoked in him, Niall stepped forward to grasp his cousin's arm.
The flare of irritationor was it jealousy?burning in Niall's eyes was not lost on Iain. With a reluctant grin, he released Anne.
"Welcome, lass. You'll make a fine Campbell, and no mistake."
Anne shook her head. "N-nay. 'Twill never be. Though I journey far from home and hearth, I'll always be a MacGregor."
"And journey you shall," Niall's steel-timbred voice intruded. "Your belongings are packed; the horses await. Let us be gone."
Anne glanced toward her father, unable to hide a look of silent supplication. He paled. Remorse surged through her at the expression of pain and regret that crossed his face.
With a determined thrust of her shoulders, she faced Niall. 'Twill do no good to bemoan your fate, Annie girl, she told herself firmly. You're handfasted now, and that's that .
"Aye," she murmured, returning Niall Campbell's glittering stare with a resolute one of her own. "Let us be gone. 'Twill do no good to linger over things that cannot be changed."
She extended her hand to him. "Better to face bravely what life brings, to forget the past and forge onfor the good o' all, MacGregor and Campbell alike."
The lowering sky, heavy with dark, moisture-laden clouds, precluded overlong farewells. For that, at least, Anne was thankful. If she'd lingered a moment longer, she'd have surely burst into tears in front of them all, mortifying both herself and her father, and no doubt adding to Niall Campbell's rising exasperation. But the thought of several hours' ride, in what rapidly threatened to turn into a typical Highland downpour, was enough to put a damper on leave-takings between travelers and well-wishers alike.
They mounted quickly. The huge castle doors swung open. For a moment, Anne stared out upon an assemblage of tartan-clad warriors. Then Niall urged his mount forward. As he cleared the fortress' portals, a cheer rose from the army outside the gate.
"The Wolf! The Wolf o' Cruachan lives!"
At the outcry Niall rose in his saddle, his right arm lifting in a close-fisted salute. "Cruachan!" he shouted,' the harsh Campbell battle cry echoing across the hills.
Urging his horse onward and followed closely by Anne and Iain, Niall rode to the head of his forces. With a motion of his hand, he signaled the journey to begin.
Anne never looked back. She didn't dare or the tears would have surely flowed. Riveting her gaze on Niall's broad back, riding ahead with his cousin, Hugh, and the older man who'd been the spokesman for his return, she steeled herself to the sight of the beloved land she was leaving behind.
The road turned south along the River Strae, its current turbulent with melted winter snow. A fine mist rose from the water-battered stones. Anne inhaled deeply of the scent of rich, damp earth.
The meadows were alive with springtide flowers, gallant little daffodils, delicate snowdrops, and yellow primroses. The milk-white petals of the delicate Star of Bethlehem gleamed among the rank growth of ivy and fern in the nearby woods. Everywhere she looked she saw the heartbreaking beauty of her land. A lump rose in Anne's throat.
"Don't fret so, lassie," Iain Campbell gently intruded as he rode up alongside her. "'Tisn't as if you'll never see your home again. In time, when the feuding cools, I'm sure you can talk Niall into bringing you back for a visit. We're nearly neighbors, after all."
She gave him a misty-eyed smile. "My thanks for your kindness. I don't think
It was too much. First the cold ownership of Niall's kiss, and now Iain's expert assault. She'd never kissed a grown man, aside from her father's affectionate caresses, and now to have two in one day! Anne groaned in dismay, moving to push Iain away.
"Enough, cousin." Stirred by the unexpected surge of possessiveness Anne's small sound evoked in him, Niall stepped forward to grasp his cousin's arm.
The flare of irritationor was it jealousy?burning in Niall's eyes was not lost on Iain. With a reluctant grin, he released Anne.
"Welcome, lass. You'll make a fine Campbell, and no mistake."
Anne shook her head. "N-nay. 'Twill never be. Though I journey far from home and hearth, I'll always be a MacGregor."
"And journey you shall," Niall's steel-timbred voice intruded. "Your belongings are packed; the horses await. Let us be gone."
Anne glanced toward her father, unable to hide a look of silent supplication. He paled. Remorse surged through her at the expression of pain and regret that crossed his face.
With a determined thrust of her shoulders, she faced Niall. 'Twill do no good to bemoan your fate, Annie girl, she told herself firmly. You're handfasted now, and that's that .
"Aye," she murmured, returning Niall Campbell's glittering stare with a resolute one of her own. "Let us be gone. 'Twill do no good to linger over things that cannot be changed."
She extended her hand to him. "Better to face bravely what life brings, to forget the past and forge onfor the good o' all, MacGregor and Campbell alike."
The lowering sky, heavy with dark, moisture-laden clouds, precluded overlong farewells. For that, at least, Anne was thankful. If she'd lingered a moment longer, she'd have surely burst into tears in front of them all, mortifying both herself and her father, and no doubt adding to Niall Campbell's rising exasperation. But the thought of several hours' ride, in what rapidly threatened to turn into a typical Highland downpour, was enough to put a damper on leave-takings between travelers and well-wishers alike.
They mounted quickly. The huge castle doors swung open. For a moment, Anne stared out upon an assemblage of tartan-clad warriors. Then Niall urged his mount forward. As he cleared the fortress' portals, a cheer rose from the army outside the gate.
"The Wolf! The Wolf o' Cruachan lives!"
At the outcry Niall rose in his saddle, his right arm lifting in a close-fisted salute. "Cruachan!" he shouted,' the harsh Campbell battle cry echoing across the hills.
Urging his horse onward and followed closely by Anne and Iain, Niall rode to the head of his forces. With a motion of his hand, he signaled the journey to begin.
Anne never looked back. She didn't dare or the tears would have surely flowed. Riveting her gaze on Niall's broad back, riding ahead with his cousin, Hugh, and the older man who'd been the spokesman for his return, she steeled herself to the sight of the beloved land she was leaving behind.
The road turned south along the River Strae, its current turbulent with melted winter snow. A fine mist rose from the water-battered stones. Anne inhaled deeply of the scent of rich, damp earth.
The meadows were alive with springtide flowers, gallant little daffodils, delicate snowdrops, and yellow primroses. The milk-white petals of the delicate Star of Bethlehem gleamed among the rank growth of ivy and fern in the nearby woods. Everywhere she looked she saw the heartbreaking beauty of her land. A lump rose in Anne's throat.
"Don't fret so, lassie," Iain Campbell gently intruded as he rode up alongside her. "'Tisn't as if you'll never see your home again. In time, when the feuding cools, I'm sure you can talk Niall into bringing you back for a visit. We're nearly neighbors, after all."
She gave him a misty-eyed smile. "My thanks for your kindness. I don't think
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