Page 45 of The Highlander's Accidental Wife
Because Sophia brimmed with sweetness, though, she did not seem to hold it against her. If anything, she loved harder and treasured every moment she had with Helena. It made Helena feel an overwhelming, bone-deep gratitude, and the sting of her father’s words faded as her sister’s tiny arms hugged her harder around the neck.
Helena squeezed Sophia back, then drew back and asked, “You called the dog ‘Jolly?’”
“Isn’t that such a good name?” Sophia asked, a smile breaking across her face. “Even though he was cold and alone in the woods, he’s such a happy puppy.”
“I agree,” Helena said, and the dog yipped, causing both sisters to laugh. “How?—”
A shadow fell over them.
“Get up before someone sees,” their father hissed. “Just because we’re in the north doesn’t mean you should act below you, mucking around in the dirt with an animal.”
“Father,” Helena began, but he seized her elbow and hauled her up.
Somehow, he’d managed to grab her in the same place as before, and she had to grit her teeth not to cry out in pain.
He all but threw her away, glaring at Sophia, and Helena’s heart twisted with agony.
Usually, their father doted on Sophia, but it seemed that the edge of his temper could find purchase anywhere.
“Your sister would not stop screaming and crying, driving me out of my bloody mind, until we stopped and retrieved that lump of wet fur. Then, she had put it in my carriage, which I expect your husband’s staff to scrub from top to bottom.”
Helena ran a hand over her sore arm, her temper rapidly rising, and she felt her lip curl as she said in a hard voice, “Why don’t you ask Damien when he returns?”
At that moment, she lifted her head. Were those hoofbeats?
Her father jerked back in surprise. “Look at you, Daughter, becoming a proper wife of the north,” he said in a low, poisonous voice. “Already driving off your husband, too?”
Now Helena faltered, and her stomach twisted. “Wh-What do you mean?”
“Where did your betrothed go?” her father all but snarled. “Where is he returning from? What did you do? I asked you a question, and you ignored me, instead mucking about with a damn dog instead of bringing us inside, acting like a proper lady of the castle.” He stepped closer. “Leave Lady Highbrow behind in England, Daughter. I warn you.”
“Enough,” Helena tried to command, but it was a whisper.
“You need tofocus, Helena. Christ, but you are out here playing with a dog instead of focusing on your wedding. Instead of making children to ensure that the brute does not turn you out,” he scoffed and turned around, glaring around at Morighe. “I only hope that you will not take after your mother.”
Sophia’s arms came around her middle, but she barely felt them. “Wh-What do you mean?”
Was he talking about the long days that her mother had sat in listless silence or refused to eat—or wept? Or seemed strangely hostile? Or afraid, as though she could not trust her own moods, her own self?
“A waste,” her father spat. “Giving me no heir, so I was forced to marry Lady Fanwright to get a son.” He jabbed a finger at her. “Do not condemn Laird MacCabe to a life with two daughters as your useless mother did, girl.”
Is that what you truly think of her?
Helena wanted to scream, even as her arm tightened around Sophia, her chest tight, and her eyes burning. She felt torn apart, on what should have been her doorstep, and nasty fears snarled in her mind.
What if she couldn’t give Damien a son?
“Apologize,now.”
Helena jumped at the low, lethal command, and then sensed a warm, large presence beside her. Slowly, she turned and gazed up at Damien—Damien,who’d appeared next to her. She saw his horse in the distance and realized he must have just arrived—that was the horse she’d heard.
“Pardon?” her father bit out, and she flinched.
Damien’s face went tight with rage even as he lifted a gloved hand and pressed it to her face.
For a moment, they gazed at each other, and she almost felt that she could understand what he was thinking, that he was reassuring her and comforting her. She pressed her cheek against his hand and bit her lip, hoping he could read her eyes.
I missed you.
