Free Bound by Wish and Mistletoe (Highland Legends, Book 1.5) by Kat Bastion Page A

Brigid’s massage, Susanna sighed and settled back against the tub.
    “Susanna, where are you from?” Brigid asked.
    The muscles in Susanna’s back stiffened, a line of instant tension shooting from her spine into her shoulders. Unable to stop the sudden emotional reaction, her heart raced like a rabbit’s.
    “Shhh ...’tis fine, Susanna. No one cares if you doona tell us. I dinna mean to pry.” Brigid urged her back against the tub with gentle pressure until she relaxed once again.
    “Hmmm ...” hummed Isobel while keeping her eyes shut. “You’re very curious when it comes to others, but you and your brother are the best secret keepers I know, when it suits your amusement.”
    “Or need,” Brigid huffed. “Some details are shared only when the time is right.”
    Isobel opened one eye again, arching her brow as she peered at Brigid. “Funny how need is subjective—viewed differently from the secret keeper and the one who would most benefit from said secret.”
    Brigid’s tone softened. “Close your eyes again, Susanna.”
    She did as instructed and held her breath as warm water flowed over her head. A second pour came down, streaming back and forth over both sides of her face.
    “You’re no worse for wear, Isobel. You’ve become happy as a fat cat now,” Brigid said.
    “Hey! Watch the fat commentary, or I promise to be merciless when it’s your turn to be with child,” Isobel said.
    Brigid snorted. “Go ahead and stand, Susanna. I’ve a wee bit of water left to rinse, if you’d like.”
    Susanna stood in the tub while reflecting on the playful teasing between the two close friends—on what Isobel had said about relying on the kindness and strength of others—and she began to believe in the tempting promise of the unanticipated notion. She still found the thought of trusting strangers difficult to grasp with everything that a lifetime of self-preservation had ingrained in her. But for whatever short time she had with the two compassionate women, she wanted to be a part of their special connection in whatever small way she was granted.
    While Brigid poured the last of the water in the pitcher over her body, Susanna took a deep breath, readying to pour her heart out to her new friends. “I’m the daughter of Broc MacEalan. I’ve run away, and I’m never goin ’ back,” she blurted.
    Isobel’s eyes popped open, but no other muscle in her body moved; she remained slouched in the chair. Brigid wrapped a warm linen towel around her from behind. Neither woman uttered a word in reply to her outburst.
    Susanna took a second deep breath as her nerves calmed by a minute degree. “They dinna treat women right there, especially Mama. Laird Broc ripped her from the arms of her father in England, when she was just sixteen summers...against her will. By the time he removed her bindings and set her free to walk around, she’d become a prisoner in his castle.”
    Brigid gasped.
    Isobel’s hand flew over her mouth. She lowered her fingers to her chin, whispering, “Did she try to escape, to return back to England?”
    “Nay,” Susanna replied. “Broc learned how much her family meant to her and used it against her. He promised that if she ever tried to run away, it would matter not whether she succeeded. He would send his men to kill her papa, her mama, and all of her five younger brothers and sisters. Because she loved her family, she gave him her word that she would never attempt escape. She never did.”
    Susanna stepped out from the tub with the towel wrapped around her and turned to face them. Her friends’ faces were furrowed with pain and concern.
    “After he repeatedly ... raped ...her, I soon took shape in her belly. I’ve grown up in that castle as a prisoner in my own home. Mama and I have been subjected to his cruel barbs, and she’s suffered his physical mistreatment. ’Tis all I’ve known.”
    “Oh, you poor thing.” Isobel stood from the chair with a grunt and some effort. She