Page 22 of The Highlander’s Virgin Nun (Highlanders’ Feisty Brides #2)
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“W ould ye pass the bread, please, Caelan?”
Alexandra sat beside Rosaline at lunch, chatting sparingly with her brother. She made an effort with Rosaline, but when she received a few words in reply, she left her alone and spoke to Caelan instead. He chatted away as if nothing was wrong, which made Rosaline all the more upset.
“It is a nice day today, Alexandra. Ye should get out in the fresh air—maybe head to the village.”
“I might, indeed.”
Rosaline could not fathom how he spoke so calmly and normally, as if he hadn’t exiled his own wife after she was nearly killed because of him. She clenched her fists under the table, refusing to let others see how upset she was at his abandonment.
While her stomach churned with nerves and her throat tightened with tears, she endeavored to continue to eat while she could. She was still very thin and would need more weight on her bones to properly grow the child inside her. Even though her husband was abandoning them both, she would not abandon her child.
“Excuse me, Me Laird,” a servant called, entering the Great Hall. “Ye have a visitor.”
Rosaline continued to gaze at her food, expecting some merchant or nomad to enter, looking to trade with Caelan. She had witnessed similar interruptions at a few meals in the past, and they had always been quick and pointless, Caelan often dismissing them very early on. It was only when she heard her name that her eyes rose from her plate to the newcomer.
“Rosaline!” Conall gasped from the doorway as he entered.
Her jaw dropped.
Rosaline felt her body rise from her seat, her legs push her chair away behind her, and her feet step one in front of the other, until her brother’s face came into clearer focus. He hurried toward her, too, until the pair stood in front of one another for the first time in years.
There was a pause as they took in the change in each other’s appearance.
Conall was no longer the young man she had known all those years ago. She had watched him grow from a boy to a young man before his face faded further from her memory every day. He had since grown bigger and more muscular, now having longer hair and even a few wrinkles around his eyes and on his forehead. He looked well, but somewhat weathered, as though he had struggled.
She looked down at his kilt and saw her clan’s tartan. The colors instantly brought back memories of her childhood, of the halls of her family home draped in the fabric, and her and her brother running wild around the lands.
Finally, accepting that her brother really was standing in front of her, aged but still the same boy she remembered, they embraced. Conall wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her feet off the floor, hugging her tight. She heard a breath leave his chest, almost a cry, as he buried his face in her shoulder. When he lowered her to her feet, he pulled back quickly, needing her to see his face when he spoke.
“Rosaline,” he croaked. “I am so so sorry.”
Rosaline shook her head and embraced him once again. Overcome with emotion, she knew her words would fail her, and so she showed him what she meant with her affection. Holding him close, his heart pressed to hers, she hoped he understood.
I forgive ye.
Footsteps came up behind her, and Caelan appeared at her side. She pulled back from her embrace with her brother, letting her husband speak.
“Laird MacKinnon.” Caelan bowed his head and offered his hand. “I am glad ye could join us. I am happy to explain everythin’ that has occurred here, and the plan goin’ forward, should ye agree to it.”
Rosaline grew angry again, appalled by the formality of his tone. But Conall spoke for her.
“If ye dinnae mind, Laird Sinclair, I would like some time alone with me sister. As I’m sure ye ken, it has been many years, and we have a lot to catch up on.”
Conall’s words were polite and his posture calm, but his tone was curt. Caelan, unused to being dismissed, took the rejection on the chin this time, gave a curt nod, and returned to the table.
Rosaline looped her arm through her brother’s and left the Great Hall with him, the whispers of the clansfolk drifting after her.
She took her brother to the courtyard and sat with him on a small stone bench under a large oak tree. She continued to study his face, tracing various features back to their younger version, memories growing around them. Although she had so much to say, her words were slow to form.
“Rosaline,” Conall began, taking her hands in his own. “I swear to ye that the letter I received from the Sinclair messenger this mornin’ was the first I have ever had from ye. I sent news of me new address to the Abbey every time I moved, but I never heard anythin’ back from ye. I can see now that they were likely hidin’ our letters from both of us.”
“I believe ye, Conall,” Rosaline assured. “It was better for them if we couldnae talk. They kept us apart so they would continue receivin’ yer payments and I would remain trapped.”
“I am so sorry for how they treated ye. If I had kenned, I would have come for ye immediately. I hope ye ken that.”
Rosaline nodded and placed a hand on her brother’s cheek. “I ken that now, Conall. Dinnae fret.”
“I will never forgive meself for allowin’ me own sister to go through such torture.”
Rosaline saw the pain in his eyes. “Ye didnae ken, Conall. There was nothing ye could have done.”
“And now? Ye are with child?”
Rosaline took a deep breath before explaining. “I fled from the Abbey and found Caelan in the woods. He was bein’ attacked by three other men, and a fourth snuck up on him. I shouted out to warn him. He helped me flee from the nuns and asked me to be his bride. I was on me own and had nowhere to go, so I agreed.”
Conall listened intently. He looked eager to hear every detail after missing so much.
“Everythin’ was well when I came here. He bought me clothes and gave me me own rooms. Everyone was very present. We were married, and I have been told that I am with child already. But after another attack in the fruit garden, he told me that I must go with ye until I have the bairn. He willnae keep me in the meantime.”
Conall nodded, a confused yet curious look on his face. “I will talk to him. There must be more to the situation. But in the meantime, I think it is best if ye come back with me.”
Rosaline exhaled, grateful that her brother was offering to take her in. She knew as little about his life over the years as he did about hers. She did not know if he had a home to take her to, or any money to support her. After all, the last time she saw him, their home was in chaos, with fights breaking out all around.
“Are ye able?” she asked.
“Of course,” Conall replied. “I had to abandon our old castle, but I have a new home now. I have a wife—her name is Eliza. She is a wonderful woman, and she will take good care of ye. The clan’s coffers are full; ye will be safe and cared for.”
Rosaline’s hand rose as if to catch her heart, and her body finally relaxed, her shoulders dropping and her chest deflating. She had somewhere to go, someone to care for her, a place to call home .
Conall saw the relief and emotion overcome her and placed a hand on her back, rubbing soothing circles.
“I willnae let ye go again, Rosaline. And I will make sure that the nuns who treated ye so badly are punished. It isnae right what they did, and they will face the consequences for their actions.”
Rosaline nodded and thanked her brother. “I will go and pack me things. It willnae take me long; I will be ready to leave shortly.”
“All right,” Conall agreed, and they both stood up. “I wish to speak with Laird Sinclair about the marriage and what his plans are for ye and the child. Ye arenae simply a vessel for producin’ heirs. If he wants ye to return, he will have to care for ye and protect ye.”
“Good luck,” Rosaline scoffed and then headed back to the castle.
She wondered which version Caelan would present to him. The kind, careful man he had been since she had met him, or the cold, calculated Laird she had seen a day ago among the trees.
Rosaline headed to her room one final time. She found a small trunk under the bed and removed the two dresses from her wardrobe. She folded them neatly and placed them in the trunk with her undergarments.
She ran her fingers over the books she had been reading. She wanted to take them with her, but they were not hers. They belonged to Caelan’s mother, and she certainly did not want to be in debt to the man any more than he may say she was.
Rosaline considered quickly flicking to the last pages to find out how the stories ended, but it was against her nature. Instead, she took small pieces of parchment from the desk and folded them small and thin. She placed them between the pages she had gotten to and closed the books.
She would return them to the library, and if she did return to birth and raise her child, she would read them then. If not, she would at least be safe in her brother’s home, and would simply wonder about their endings.
She closed her trunk and said goodbye to her room. It had been her first sanctuary after the Abbey, but it had never truly been hers. No matter how much she was told otherwise, she had always been a guest here. She had always been on the brink of banishment.
Her instincts to expect the worst from Caelan had been correct, and she should not have let her guard down so easily. Lairds were so often selfish, and they always wanted to get their way. She should not have trusted him.
She returned the books to the library and descended the rest of the stairs. Then, she walked out of the castle and waited by the gates with her trunk. She did not intend to say goodbye, although she felt bad about leaving Alexandra behind. Her brother would have to explain why her friend was leaving so suddenly, as he was the cause.
So she sat on her trunk and looked out at the village one last time.
The people went about their day, women cooking meals in cauldrons, children running between cottages, playing tag, and men tending to animals in the fields.
She would not allow herself to say she would miss it here. Rosaline should never have considered this life hers. She simply sat and waited for her brother to come and take her back to a life that belonged to her by blood and by name.
It is me time to leave.