Page 21 of The Highlander’s Virgin Nun (Highlanders’ Feisty Brides #2)

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

“W hat?” Rosalise sputtered, her eyebrows knitting together.

Caelan realized that she thought she had misheard him as they both panted for breath.

“Ye have to go back to yer braither. I am goin’ to send for him.”

Rosaline scrambled to her feet. She took a step back as if to see him from farther away, to glean something she must have missed.

“What do ye mean? I am yer wife.”

“Ye saw what just happened, Rosaline,” he said, his voice rising a little in frustration. “This is goin’ to happen again and again. Especially now that we are goin’ to have a child. Ye arenae safe here.”

“I see the danger, Caelan,” she protested, placing a hand on his arm to make sure that he was listening to her. “But this is how I met ye. I have always kenned ye were under threat, and I didnae think it would just go away. I kenned who I was marryin’.”

“Ye didnae have much choice,” he retorted.

“Caelan, I ken it is dangerous, but I want to stay with ye. We just got married.”

Caelan’s heart raced as much as it did when he fought off the attackers. He stood up, too, and placed a hand on his forehead, trying to resolve the even more complex situation he now found himself in.

He had been so adamant about getting married. The reason he had plucked a random girl from the forest—someone he had no history with, no friendship or likeness, someone unmatched as there was no reason for their paths to cross—was to ensure that his marriage was entirely loveless.

And so far, he had been struggling to maintain that.

He had tried to remain busy, away from Rosaline. He tried to be curt with her, not to spoil her or shower her with compliments. He had tried to hide who he really was so that she would not fall for his softness.

He had tried to convince himself that he did not know her. He had tried not to marvel at her beauty, laugh at her jokes, fall into her stories, and ask questions. He had tried not to fall in love with her.

And yet, I have fallen in love with her.

His body had sustained more injuries than it ever had. He had shoved his limbs in front of their attackers’ swords, just in case they somehow reached her. He had been willing to die if it would have kept her alive, and only because she needed him to stay alive had he been able to save them both.

He had fallen deeply in love with the girl he had plucked from the forest. The marriage that was to be contractual only, a formality to ensure the future of the clan, was in fact one of fascination, desire, and adoration.

Caelan knew now that his feelings for Rosaline had eclipsed his initial plan, and he had to get rid of her before she developed feelings for him too.

Not to mention that he could see now that her safety was severely at risk. He had thought that the assassins would continue to come after him only, and that he would be able to fight them off as usual. But now that she was with child, and that they somehow knew about it already, she was at just as much risk as he was.

I cannot protect her here, and I could not leave me clan. She is as unsafe now as she was in the Abbey, if not more. I am failing her.

Of course, he couldn’t explain it to her this way. She was selfless, thoughtful, and caring. She would see his pain and want to care for him. He knew that the only way to ensure her safety was for her to leave, and to do that, he would have to show her his horrible side.

“Ye are me wife, and ye are bearin’ me child. Once the child is born, ye can return, and then I will care for ye both. Until then, I think it best that yer braither took care of ye.”

Caelan fought to keep his face as straight as possible as Rosaline’s fell. She opened her mouth as if to protest, but found no words. Her face contorted in confusion, and her hands twitched only to go still.

She was dumbfounded by the sudden change in his demeanor. She likely could not believe that the man who had made sure she was comfortable, lay with her, and purchased her a whole new wardrobe could suddenly turn into a cheap, dismissive laird.

He had to try harder.

“He left ye in that place for years. He may nae have received yer letters, but he left ye there. How did he even make sure that ye were alive? Then, ye get swept up by another laird and married within a week, such that he doesnae have to pay for yer upkeep any longer. The coward owes ye at least nine months of care.”

He could barely believe he had managed to speak the words.

Caelan balled his hands into fists to stop them from flying up and covering his mouth. He pressed his lips together and furrowed his brow, preventing his face from showing any of the emotions he was feeling. He had to remain as cold as possible.

“How dare ye,” Rosaline whispered.

His heart almost broke in two. He saw her eyes fill with tears and hope flicker out of her eyes. He had hit her with the thoughts she had never dared to think—that her brother owed her more and had failed her. He could not summon any more words.

“Fine, have it yer way,” she spat out, taking another step away from him, her face contorted in disgust. “I willnae be a burden where I am nae wanted. I will write to Conall and ask him to come for me. I will be out of yer sight as fast as I can.”

She spun around, kicking her skirts out behind her, and marched back towards the castle.

Caelan watched as she swiped a hand across her face.

Did I make her cry?

She marched past the guards, who were now rushing towards Caelan. He saw them try to stop her, to ask if she was all right, but she ran from their questioning and they let her go.

“Me Laird, what happened?” the guards asked as they reached him.

“Attackers, in the trees. There are four dead about ten feet in. Scour the area for more.” His voice was hollow, lacking the panic that had plagued him in battle.

The fight paled in comparison to the hurt he had just inflicted on Rosaline.

“Are ye harmed, Me Laird?” a guard asked.

“I will take meself to Michaela—it is just a few scratches. Away and search!” Caelan dismissed them with a wave of his hand.

The guards darted away, disappearing into the trees.

Caelan walked back towards the castle slowly. He had no intention of catching up with Rosaline, and he needed time to compose himself before running into others. He could barely forgive himself for what he had done, although he had to do it.

Her safety was more important than her mood. He had to keep her away from the danger she would face here, and sending her off to her brother was the only way to do it.

* * *

Rosaline rushed up the stairs, her skirts bunched up in her hands so they would not slow her down. A few servants stopped when they saw her.

“Lady Sinclair, is everythin’ all right?” they called as she dashed past.

“Aye,” she blurted.

She did not stop to quell their worries anymore. She could not contain her emotions long enough to chat and had no interest in telling them that their Laird had kicked her out of the castle.

She ran to their bedroom and went straight for the wardrobe. She pulled out two of the dresses Mrs. Milloy had made for her, a few undergarments, and then gathered a couple of books from her nightstand. Arms full of books and fabric, she closed the door behind her with her foot and headed to her old room.

She knew it remained unoccupied since she had vacated it only a couple of days ago, as she had seen the servants cleaning it the day before. She pushed the door open and was relieved to see that the room looked almost the same as when she had first stepped foot into it. It was clean and pristine, and most importantly, it was empty of Caelan’s belongings.

Rosaline dumped her things on the bed and rehung her dresses in her old wardrobe. She placed her books by her bed and then went to sit at the desk.

Opening the wooden lid, she retrieved a piece of parchment, a quill, and an inkpot from the drawer. Then, she laid them out, ready to write. It took her a moment to gather her thoughts and decide how best to ask her brother to come and get her.

But she would do anything to get away from Caelan. She would simply have to ask another man to care for her and hope that his sense of duty overrode any objections he might have.

Dear Conall,

I know ye did not receive my letters from the Abbey all those years, and I do not know if you received the one I tried to send you a week ago, so I will explain everything again.

The nuns, behind their godly disguise, were terrible. They starved me and beat me and used me as their servant and punching post. After many years under their cruel rule, I managed to escape.

I was found by a laird in the woods, and he asked me to be his bride. Left with no other options, I accepted. Laird Sinclair and his people were lovely at first, and I got married and am now with child.

But now, the Laird has decided he does not want to care for me while I am pregnant. I am sorry to ask this of you, but if you could please come and fetch me from Castle Sinclair, I would forever be indebted to you. I may be with child, but I am still a hard worker and will earn my keep. I will be no hassle to you.

With thanks and sincerity,

Your sister, Rosaline.

She waved the parchment in the air a few times to dry the ink and then folded it over and sealed it with wax before she had time to second-guess what she had written.

Rosaline stood up, smoothed her skirts, and checked her face in the mirror. Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes still held tears that she refused to shed.

She dabbed her eyes with a loose bit of fabric from her sleeve and pressed her cool hands to her cheeks to lighten the redness. She took a few deep breaths and lowered her shoulders, fighting to regain her composure. She had been through far worse than this.

This is manageable.

Rosaline took the letter and left her room. She made her way down the stairs and tried to ignore the faces that had seen her rush up. They looked confused, and some even whispered, but not unkindly. The people seemed concerned about her, but afraid to ask again. She was not in the mood to explain, even though she had managed to slow her breathing moments ago.

She walked to Caelan’s study, where she frequently found Jayden, hoping that the door was open so she would be able to peer inside. She did not want to find Caelan there, too.

Thankfully, the door was ajar, and upon peering inside, she saw Jayden studying a map, clearly not yet in the loop about the attack in the woods.

Rosaline knocked.

“Come in,” Jayden called. He rose when he saw her. “Lady Sinclair, are ye lookin’ for Caelan?”

“Nay,” she replied, having to clear her throat once she heard the emotion in her voice.

She took a deep breath and spoke the words she had been rehearsing in her mind on her way here.

“I need to send a letter to me braither. Caelan said that ye found his new address?”

“Aye, Me Lady. I can write it down for ye.”

“Just here is fine,” she said, handing him the folder letter.

“Are ye askin’ him to come visit?”

“Somethin’ like that,” she replied, trying to go over the reasoning without him noticing.

Kicking his wife out of the castle was a story Caelan would have to tell Jayden himself. She would spare herself the embarrassment.

“Caelan asked me to write to him.”

Jayden wrote the address on the letter and handed it back to her.

“I thought since Caelan asked for it to be sent, and since ye have strict rules about the post here, ye might have it sent for me. I am nae entirely sure how it’s done, but I ken that Caelan wants it to be delivered as soon as possible.”

“Of course, Me Lady. I will take it to our messenger right away and have him deliver it personally. He will leave tonight.”

Exactly as she hoped.

“Thank ye, Jayden.”

Jayden left the study with her letter, and she watched him go. She retired to her room afterward, trying to calm her nerves and hoping she would not have to wait long for her brother to come and collect her.

Rosaline could not even bear to consider the possibility that Conall might not come. She would have to run away again and fend for herself, but with the baby in her belly, she did not know if she would be able to keep them both alive.

Once again, she felt entirely hopeless, with nowhere to belong and no one to look out for her. She held her books close to her chest, wishing to be part of one of her fairytales or adventure books instead.

She fell asleep, her body tense and her heart sore, hoping for better news in the morning.