Page 98 of The Highlander's Auctioned Hellion
Can we trust that she will keep her word and return the girls if I leave?
The way Moira had looked at Callum made Lydia’s blood boil. It had been predatory, proprietary, as if she had every right to stand before him and make threats.
Lydia rose, dragging the trunk from beneath the bed and throwing open the lid with a loud bang. She stared at the base of it, where her muslin gowns were still folded neatly in place, untouched.
When she left London, she had been eager to cast off the shackles of society, of the world that her father would gladly have forced her to endure forever. She had packed barely anything, wishing to forget the life she had lived before.
Now, she would have liked to pack everything into her case, every gown Callum had bought her. She loved them all.
Love.
The word would have felt alien to her only a few days before, but now it was truer than anything she had ever felt.
How cruel it was to finally be able to realize her feelings for her husband just at the moment when she had to leave him.
Callum had been honest with her, telling her that he did not need a wife and had no use for anything other than a nursemaid for his children. Still, foolishly, she had hoped perhaps…
Lydia sighed, glancing at the adjoining door to Callum’s room. To walk through it in the dead of night had been one of the boldest things she had ever done.
She had not known what to expect or what she wanted. Only that she did not wish to be alone. The pleasure that had followed had been just as unexpected as the safety she had felt in his presence.
Would he really touch me like that if he did not care?
She picked up the wedding dress, holding it close to her body, allowing her eyes to roam over the beautiful embroidery across the fabric one more time.
The dress was inappropriate for the drawing rooms of London. Too ostentatious, too large, and if she had worn it in the drawing rooms of her peers, there was no doubt she would have been sneered at.
But she could not bring herself to leave it behind. It had the scent of Scotland in the threads, the smell of leather that lingered around Callum whenever he was near.
She folded it neatly, placing it into the trunk, almost secretively, covering it over with another dress to hide it away.
In a few days’ time, will this be nothing more than a memory?
Her gut clenched. The marriage was not consummated. If he so chose, Callum could annul it without challenge.
Will he do it? Will he be able to forget me so easily?
Lydia shivered, swallowing around the lump that formed in her throat. She hated the thought of him choosing another woman, for him to rise every morning and not think of her at all.
She moved to her dressing table, collecting her jewelry box and the pins and brooches that she had worn since she arrived.
The castle felt ominously silent. There was no giggling from the twins, no pattering of tiny feet outside the door. Even the wind through the corridors seemed to have died down since their departure.
Sighing, she bundled the rest of her dresses into the trunk, wrapping the jewelry and her spare shoes beneath them, and closing the lid with a snap.
Ringing a bell for a servant, she waited until a young man came to her door.
“Take this down to the carriage, please.”
“M’Lady?”
“I am leaving. Please ensure that the servants who will accompany me are prepared for a long journey.”
He stared at her, eyebrows raised, before he nodded once and dragged the case from the room. There was a low grunt as he lifted it into his arms and took it down the steps. The room looked so empty without any of her things. She hated the sight of it.
Just before the door shut, there was a soft footfall from outside, and Kristen entered, looking about the bare room, her eyes filled with sadness.
“So, it is true,” she said solemnly. “Ye are leavin’?”
