Page 73 of Marry the Highland Villain
Brigid swallowed a momentary feeling of apprehension. “Och, I’m well enough, Emily, and I thank ye for the offer, but there’s nothing I need. I simply…”
“Werenae feelin’ up to talkin’.”
Emily smiled knowingly and gave friend her a gentle embrace. “I ken how it is. I had some similar feelings, just after Devon died.”
Devon. The brother who had been killed by Laird Auchter’s men.
“I still dinnae ken much about that,” Brigid admitted with a frown. “Will ye tell me, Emily?”
“Nae much I can tell ye,” the other woman replied. “Laird Auchter took Devon as a captive. Conall and Oliver tried to save him, but one of Auchter’s men killed him during the fightin’.” Emily’s expression was sad. “Conall retreated into anger at everyone around him, with no exceptions. Oliver’s anger was focused on anyone connected to Clan Auchter—as I’m sure ye ken by now.”
Brigid nodded, though she couldn’t help the sadness that filled her. “I wish Oliver kenned I was never part of Clan Auchter,” she said quietly. “Laird Auchter disowned my mother before I was even born.”
To her surprise, Emily’s smile widened, and the healer hugged her close. “Och, Oliver kens well enough that ye’re nae part of Clan Auchter. He and Conall have been talkin’, and I think he understands matters better now.”
“Ye think so?” Brigid wanted to believe this was true, but it was hard to imagine Oliver ever letting go of the hatred he’d harbored toward her from the moment he arrived.
“I do. Like as nae, he’ll avoid ye for a while out of embarrassment, because he doesnae ken how to repair what his foolishness has done. But he is sorry, and, sooner or later, I’m sure he’ll tell ye that himself.”
Brigid nodded. “I’m nae sure I ken how to mend my own foolishness,” she admitted. “I ken I care for Conall, but…”
“Ye’ll find a way.” Emily tightened her grip once more and then released her. “I have faith in yer ability to find a way to my brother-in-law, and in his ability to find a way to ye. Ye’re both too strong to let a sorrow like this stand between ye for long.”
The words fell like stones in a still pond, and with them, something settled inside Brigid. An understanding, and a truth that she’d struggled to reach for days now.
She loved Conall. She trusted him with her life, and she loved him. Emily was right. She couldn’t bear to let anything separate her permanently from the man she’d married. She loved him too much to let that happen.
She’d fought to love him, held by her mother’s final words and the promise she’d made. But now she remembered what else her mother had told her.
“Dinnae ever lose that smile, that bright and loving nature of yers, my sweet daughter.”
If she left Conall, she would lose her smile. And much of what she loved would go along with it. She would always feel the aching emptiness of loss, but if she left this place she’d come to consider home and the man she’d grown to love…
She returned Emily’s embrace with a tight hug of her own. “Ye’re right.” She stepped back. “And now, if ye’ll excuse me, Emily, I have things I need to take care of.”
She turned and hurried back into the castle, toward her rooms, intent on finding some way to apologize to Conall. Instead, she found herself stopping and staring at her bed.
There was a book there—a book she knew wasn’t hers. And on top of it was a note, written in a hand she was fairly certain she recognized.
She picked up the book first and opened it. Her heart skipped a beat when she realized it was full of poems—a book of poetry, and one she’d never had a chance to read before.
She turned her attention to the note. It was short, but the words went straight to her heart and melted the ice of every uncertainty she’d battled over the past seven days.
My Beloved,
I promised I would not approach you until you sought me out, and I meant it. However, I miss you, and I did not wish you to think that I had forgotten the vows I made to you.
Your sisters told me you love poetry. This book was my mother’s, long ago. She would be glad to know that it is in the hands of someone who can love it as she did.
Conall.
Brigid read the note twice, tears filling her eyes as she did so. Then, she folded it carefully and slipped it between the pages of the book of poetry.
He cared for her. Even after everything, he had made an effort to make sure she knew that he still wanted her here, that he was waiting for her to come to him.
Brigid turned and began to rifle through her journals. At that moment, she wanted nothing more than to show him her feelings in return, and now that the fog that had filled her mind for so long had finally cleared, she knew exactly how to do it.
Her hand found the correct journal, and her fingers leafed through the pages until she reached the entry she wanted.
