Free True Love Brides 02 - The Highlander’s Curse by Claire Delacroix

desperation.
    It was like the last time, all over again.
    But infinitely worse.

Chapter Four
    What was happening to Garrett?
    Annelise watched his agitation grow as they walked closer to Seton Manor. His reaction made her doubt that illness was the real reason for his absence. He was clearly distressed about entering the manor.
    She could readily believe he was no longer accustomed to people, if ever he had been. He lived in the forest. He was resourceful and practical, but she could imagine that he was less familiar with the expectations of even a small hall like Seton Manor. He might have been ill, but perhaps his reticence had been the greater deterrent to his visit. She decided that he had not wanted to make a poor impression, so had stayed away rather than disappoint her.
    Her compassion redoubled at this realization. She adored that despite his discomfort, he had intended to come to her on this day. She would see that he managed to speak to Murdoch.
    But Garrett’s breathing quickened, and Annelise saw his agitation sharpen into terror. He truly appeared to be ill, and most oddly, his symptoms worsened the closer they became to the hall. She had never seen the like.
    What illness could overcome a man so quickly, especially a man so young and hale as Garrett?
    He had closed his eyes and stopped talking to her. He did not stride forward with the confidence and surety she associated with him, but moved with hesitation. His grip had tightened on her arm and she could see the beads of perspiration on his temples. Was it her imagination that his hand shook within hers?
    “What is amiss?” she whispered, but he merely shook his head.
    He became pale beneath his tan and shook. He stumbled through the gates like a drunken man, leaning on her more than he had thus far and grimacing as if in pain.
    The sentries exchanged glances, then one came to Annelise’s side.
    “Have you found an outcast, my lady?” he asked, his opinion of that more than clear.
    “A madman in the woods?” asked the other.
    Though Annelise could not blame them for making such a conclusion, she wanted to defend Garrett. “No, he is a hunter. He has only just become ill. I cannot explain it.”
    Garrett moaned and halted, one hand rising to his forehead. He shuddered from his head to his boots and wavered so that she feared he would fall. Annelise spoke to him, leaning closer to him as she murmured his name. He did not reply, only shook his head and clutched at her hand.
    “He does indeed appear to be stricken, my lady,” the sentry said.
    “He was hale but moments ago.”
    “I saw you talking to him in the distance, my lady. He stood taller then.” The second sentry frowned, looking down the road as if the source of Garrett’s affliction might be discerned there.
    “It is most odd,” Annelise agreed. “I must fetch Isabella. She will know what to do.”
    “Most wise, my lady,” agreed the first sentry.
    Annelise pried her hand free of Garrett’s grip and raced toward the hall, concern giving speed to her feet.
    She was shocked to a halt when Garrett screamed.
    Annelise spun, horrified to see him writhing on the ground between the two guards, his hands locked over his head. He moaned in such obvious anguish that Annelise did not know what to do. He muttered to himself but made no sense, then rolled on the ground.
    He might have become a different man.
    A madman.
    “Who is he and what ails him?” Isabella asked, touching Annelise’s shoulder from behind.
    “I do not know what is wrong. The malady came upon him so suddenly.”
    “Do you know him?” Murdoch demanded from her other side.
    “He is a hunter,” Annelise said. “His name is Garrett MacLachlan.”
    “The one you met in the glade,” Isabella said. “Who killed the wolf.”
    “Aye,” Annelise agreed. She realized she still held the pelt and fixed her sister with a look, dropping her voice to a whisper. “This wolf.”
    “This is the man you insist killed the wolf?”