Claiming His Highland Bride. Terri Brisbin
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that was the end of their discussion, he lifted the latch and pulled it open. As he tugged it to close behind him, Arabella called out to him. He slowed to hear her words.
‘My informants have told me that the widow Saraid MacPherson plans to enter a convent on Skye when she leaves here.’
The door was closed with some force so Alan knew there was no chance of saying anything back to her. Or asking her any questions. He walked away, listening to the laughter coming from inside the chamber—his cousin’s and Brodie’s, too. He thought about his experience with women and let out some words that would rival even Rob Mackintosh’s best, or rather worst, efforts.
He’d searched for his cousin and found her, but got captured, too.
He’d fallen in love with Agneis, but lost her to Gilbert.
He’d searched for, found and lost Fia Mackintosh, who then turned down his offer of marriage.
He’d searched for the MacMillan girl and found that she’d died.
Alan shook his head and let out an exasperated breath then as he realised that even showing interest in a woman seemed to move them out of his reach. As Saraid MacPherson would be when she left Glenlui and travelled on to Skye.
A nun.
A bl—
Alan stopped at the blasphemous words he almost thought and laughed at the irony of his situation instead.
The man known throughout the Highlands as the best tracker of all manner of things seemed to lose the women he wanted to find and find the ones he could only lose.
As he made his way to the chamber he used here, he could almost hear the Fates laughing at him.
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