Page 54 of The Highlander's Virgin Nun
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.
