Page 62 of The Highlander's Virgin Nun
She fled from his study, and Caelan was left in the wake of her words.
He was almost entirely sure that he had made the right decision, but Alexandra had voiced the only doubt that niggled at his mind. If he was wrong—if Rosaline was not safer with her brother—then she and their child would die, and it would be entirely his fault.
* * *
The journey, though long, was well-needed. On horseback, Rosaline and her brother took the time to catch up on so many years spent apart. Their final memories of one another, their parents, and their lives since. All of it was discussed at length, and yet there was still not enough time for everything.
“Here we are. Ye can see the new castle now,” Conall murmured as a tall, grey castle came into view, surrounded by early planted fields and rows of cottages.
Rosaline felt her weary bones ache, now that rest was in sight. She longed to rest her head on a pillow and sleep in her new home.
Me new home.
She ran the thought over in her mind, trying to take the village and castle in, trying to commit as much of it to memory as she could so that she would adjust to it as fast as possible. Because, of course, it wasn’t her home.
“It’s nae the castle we grew up in, but I took every measure to make sure it still felt like home,” Conall explained.
After their father died and chaos broke out, so much of the original MacKinnon Castle had been ransacked, looted, and damaged by fighting that Conall simply had to start over.
“I found safer land, and I took what I could. I built it from the ground up with me men. Keep an eye out when ye’re inside; ye may recognize more than ye think.”
As they trotted through the castle gates and dismounted their horses, Conall was greeted by a fairy-like woman with blonde wavy hair and soft brown eyes. She ran to him and leaped into his arms, holding onto him tightly and giggling with joy at his return.
“Eliza, this is me sister, Rosaline,” Conall said once his wife had released him.
Eliza stepped up to Rosaline and took both of her hands in her own. The smile on her face was warm, understanding, ready to listen.
“Welcome home, Rosaline,” she greeted.
Rosaline’s heart almost broke with appreciation.
“Thank ye,” she managed, fighting back tears. “It is so lovely to meet ye, Eliza. Conall has told me so much about ye.”
“Ye must be exhausted. I’ll show ye to yer rooms and perhaps bring ye some food. I dinnae suppose ye’ll be in the mood for a feast?”
Rosaline had to place a hand over her heart to check that it was still intact. The fact that Eliza understood that she would be tired and overwhelmed by meeting so many people touched her deeply.
“That would be lovely, thank ye.”
“Thank ye, darlin’,” Conall murmured.
He gave his wife one final small hug and a kiss on the cheek.
Eliza took Rosaline’s trunk and gestured for her to follow.
As they walked through the castle, Rosaline took it all in. She did, in fact, recognize many items. Bolts of MacKinnon tartan hung from the stone walls, and the long brass rods with eagle heads carved on each side. Highland landscapes, framed in green, yellow, and brown frames, lined the walls. Door knockers and handles sporting heads of various native animals—wildcats, squirrels, deer, and puffins—adorned each door she passed.
All of these items, Rosaline could remember from her childhood. While some looked much smaller, they were sleek and shiny, as if they had never withstood the test of time.
She glanced at each doorknob until Eliza grabbed one and turned it, opening the door to Rosaline’s new room.
“I picked this room for ye. It doesnae get any draft, has a nice view, and is close to the library, which is just down the hall. Conall remembered that ye used to like readin’ as a child.”
“I still do. That’s very kind.” Rosaline smiled.
“Please make yerself at home,” Eliza encouraged, putting her small trunk down by the bed. “I will fetch ye some food and bring it back in just a moment.”
With that, Eliza was gone, and Rosaline was left alone in her new room. Quickly, she unpacked her trunk and hung her dresses in the wardrobe. It was as if the faster she tucked her things in the wardrobe, the faster she would feel at home.
