Page 31 of Claimed by the Ruthless Highlander (Taming the Highland Devils #2)

CHAPTER THIRTY

" S uch a beautiful mornin'," Maisie said to herself.

She woke with a lightness in her heart she had not felt in many days.

The memory of Caiden's touch upon the stairwell lingered still, making her cheeks warm and her smile linger even as the chill of morning seeped through the stones.

She replayed the way his voice had dipped, rough and deep with yearning, and the way her body had come alive beneath his hand.

It made her pulse quicken anew, though the hour was early and the castle still quiet.

She whispered aloud, her voice soft but certain, "Aye, today's the day I'll tell him. He'll ken I want nothin' more than to be his."

The words tasted sweet, freeing, as if she had loosed a secret chain she had long borne upon her soul. No longer did she feel trapped nor torn; her heart was her own, and it belonged to him. The truth of it set her step dancing, light as the larks outside her window.

She opened it and let the sea breeze rush in. It felt like a whole new world to her in that moment. She hummed a tune and did not realize she was doing it.

Moving across the chamber, she poured cool water into the wash basin, the metal pitcher clinking softly against the rim.

The water shimmered faintly in the morning light, steam curling from it where it had been warmed by the hearth coals.

She dipped the cloth and pressed it to her face, gasping at the freshness, feeling it chase the last shadows of sleep away.

Each stroke upon her skin seemed a new beginning, a way to ready herself for the confession she vowed to make.

Humming a tune her mother once sang, she began to dress, the task familiar and comforting in its rhythm.

The linen shift clung first to her, soft and plain, then the stays that cinched firm about her waist, reminding her of the strength she carried.

She laced her skirts, smoothing the heavy wool, and pulled the sleeves of her gown over her arms. With each layer, she felt both shielded and adorned, a woman preparing not just for the day but for the truth of her heart.

Maisie's heart leapt when she heard the knock at her chamber door. Leslie's voice came softly from the other side: "The laird has summoned ye, me lady."

For a moment, Maisie's pulse hammered so loud in her ears she could scarcely hear anything else. She smoothed her gown quickly and pressed her hand to her breast, willing herself to be calm, though excitement sparked in every corner of her.

She opened the door. "Good day, Leslie."

"Good day, me lady." Leslie curtsied.

"Did he say why I am being summoned?" she asked.

"Nay, me lady. Just to bring ye straight away if ye were awake," Leslie said.

"And if I were nae awake?" she asked.

"He said to rouse ye and wait for ye to dress and then take ye to him," Leslie said.

"I see, then it must be of importance. One moment please," she said.

She closed the door and rushed around the room fixing her hair and taking a good look in the looking glass to see if everything was in place.

She opened the door and stepped into the hallway. "I am ready."

"He is this way, me lady," Leslie said.

Maisie followed with excitement in her heart. What had transpired between them was a turning point, she was sure of that. Perhaps he was ready to confess his true feelings for her, as was she.

"Lady Maisie is here, Laird," Leslie knocked on the door of Caiden's study.

"Let her in and be gone," he commanded.

Leslie opened the door and curtsied, then left.

Maisie entered Caiden's study with her chin lifted, though her steps were light and eager. The room smelled faintly of smoke and leather, and the glow of the hearth lit his face with a golden hue.

He looked up from the desk, and her heart clenched at the sight, as if she had been starving and at last found sustenance. To spend time with him, even in the stern quiet of this place, felt like a gift she had yearned for.

Maisie drew a breath, her voice trembling though she smiled."Caiden, I have so much to say to ye, things I've kept in me heart and…"

He raised a hand sharply, his gaze hard, cutting her words away."Maisie, hold yer tongue a moment. There's somethin' of import I must tell ye first."

She blinked, startled, her lips parting as she searched his face."What is it, then? Ye've the look of a man bearin' a heavy truth."

Caiden leaned back in his chair, his voice measured, though a shadow flickered in his eyes. "It's time ye went home, lass. Ye're nae bound here any longer."

Her breath caught, confusion flashing in her gaze."Go home? What do ye mean by that? Caiden, I daenae understand."

He folded his hands upon the desk, his jaw set firm, though his tone softened slightly. "I mean ye're nay longer me captive. Ye're free to return to yer kin, and I'll see to it ye've safe passage. I shouldnae have taken ye in the first place; 'twas a mistake I'll forever regret."

The words hung heavy in the room, and Maisie stood still as stone, her throat tightening. For a moment, silence wrapped around her like a shroud. Then she drew a deep breath and shook her head, her voice low but steady.

"Ye daenae need to apologize. I'm glad to ken ye'll let me go… but the truth is, Caiden, I daenae want to leave."

She saw it then, the flicker of shock across his face, as if she had struck him where he least expected.

His eyes widened, and for a heartbeat she thought he might reach for her, might tell her the words she longed to hear.

Her heart surged with hope, fragile and trembling.

But instead, his expression hardened like stone, and his voice cut cruel and sharp.

"If ye thought any more of what passed between us, then that's yer own folly. I never gave ye any promise, lass, nor hint that ye were more than a passin' pleasure to me."

The words pierced her chest, each syllable a blade, leaving her breathless and reeling.

Her lips trembled, though she tried to keep her composure, her hands curling into fists at her sides.

Every part of her wanted to cry out that he lied, that his eyes had told her otherwise.

But she swallowed the pain, holding it close, knowing she could not let him see her break.

Maisie's chest heaved, fury burning through the ache in her heart.

She stared at Caiden, her eyes glistening but sharp as blades.

Every moment she had treasured now felt twisted into something cruel, something she had never wished to believe.

Her voice broke the silence, fierce and trembling all at once.

"So that's it, then? Ye used me, Caiden, wrung me dry of what pleasure ye could steal, and now ye'll toss me aside when ye've grown weary?"

Caiden stiffened, his jaw tightening as though her words had struck too close. He rose from his chair, his height casting a shadow over her, yet his voice held a controlled edge. "Daenae twist this, Maisie. I never promised ye more than what it was. Ye ken I've me duties and me people to think of."

Maisie's laughter came bitter and raw, a sound that scraped her throat. She took a step closer, her hands balled at her sides.

"Yer people? Aye, ye speak of them as if they're chains upon ye. But what of me, Caiden? What of the nights, the words, the touches ye gave me? Were they naught but lies to keep me pliant?"

His eyes darkened, and for a heartbeat, his hand twitched as if he meant to reach for her, then he stilled. His tone grew harsher, though something flickered beneath it.

"Ye think too much of it, lass. I let me desire get the better of me, aye, but that was weakness, nae a vow. Ye should nae read love where there is none."

Her heart clenched, yet her anger burned hotter, refusing to be silenced. She stepped so close that her skirts brushed his boots, her chin tilting defiantly upward.

"Daenae dare tell me there was nay more, Caiden. I felt yer heart pound the same as mine, I saw the truth in yer eyes when ye kissed me. Ye cannae take that back with cold words now."

Caiden's nostrils flared, his hands curling into fists at his sides.

"Ye think ye ken me, Maisie, but ye ken naught of what I carry. Me heart cannae be given, nae when it's bound in duty and regret. Best ye leave before ye lose yerself in what I cannae give."

Maisie's breath caught, but her fury pushed through the sorrow that threatened to drown her. Her eyes shone bright, her voice sharp as steel.

"Lose meself? I've already lost, Caiden, lost to a man who would rather bury his soul than fight for what's before him. If ye cast me off now, it's nae me who's broken. It's ye."

The silence that followed stretched heavy, thick with unspoken truths.

Caiden's eyes locked on hers, storm-tossed and fierce, yet he said nothing.

His breath came hard, his chest rising and falling as though he battled himself.

And Maisie stood tall, refusing to yield, though her heart bled within her.

Maisie stood frozen, her heart twisting as his words sank deep into her chest. Her lips parted, but no sound came, only the tremble of her breath. Caiden's tone had been final, his eyes cold as winter stone, and it shattered what hope she had clung to.

"There'll be guards waitin' in the stables, ready to escort ye home. Supplies have been prepared for the long journey," he said flatly.

"So ye truly mean to send me away," she whispered, her voice cracking with the weight of her pain. "After all that's passed between us, ye'll be rid of me with naught but guards and supplies? Is that what I am to ye, Caiden, a burden to be packed off and forgotten?"

He flinched faintly, but his face held firm, his jaw set. "It's better this way, Maisie. Ye'll be safe with them, and ye'll have yer life back. I should never have taken ye in the first place."

Her tears spilled freely, her cheeks hot with the sting of them.

Anger and heartbreak churned within her until she could no longer bear the sight of him.

She turned sharply on her heel, her skirts sweeping across the stone floor as she stormed out of his study.

Her footsteps echoed in the corridor, quick and furious, until she reached her chamber door and slammed it shut behind her.

Maisie leaned against the wood, pressing her palms to it as though to steady herself.

Her chest heaved, her sobs raw and desperate, filling the lonely space.

Never had she felt so foolish, to give her heart only to have it thrown back with such cruelty.

She stumbled toward the bed, collapsing onto the coverlet as her tears dampened the fabric beneath her.

Her thoughts tangled and twisted, no thread of sense to guide her through.

She had only just begun to admit her feelings, to open herself to the hope that love could bloom in so harsh a place.

The memory of his touch, his kiss, his whispered yearning, seared through her with every heartbeat.

How could he cast her aside so coldly when she knew his passion had been as fierce as hers?

Maisie pressed her hands to her face, muffling the sound of her grief.

She felt foolish for believing there had been more, for daring to hope she could be more than a passing pleasure to a man so bound in his own walls.

Her heart screamed that it had been real, but his words rang louder, echoing cruelly in her mind.

She had been nothing to him but a mistake to be corrected.

The room seemed smaller now, suffocating her with its silence. Her gaze drifted to the small washbasin, the shawl draped across the chair, the belongings that would soon be packed away. The thought of returning home, of facing her family with a hollow smile, weighed heavy on her shoulders.

What story could I tell? What lie could I weave to hide how I've been undone by a man who never wanted me?

Maisie curled onto her side, pulling the blanket over her as though it might shield her from the storm inside.

Her tears slowed but did not stop, falling one by one into the stillness.

She longed for comfort, for the warmth of his presence, though she cursed herself for it.

In her heart, she knew the truth: she had given herself and now she was left with nothing but the ache of being cast aside.