Page 58 of The Cruel Highlander's Healer
How could she feel such shame over something like that?
But she did. That much was true. Her stomach was going sour with it, bile and regret rising into the back of her throat.
The tears that had been dancing along the edge of her lashes finally fell. Sitting entirely, she wiped the back of her hand across her cheeks angrily.
“Why did ye do it, then?” she asked, her voice filled with rancid bitterness.
Conall simply repeated the words he’d given moments before, each syllable sounding more hollow than the last.
“I was weak.”
It was anger that she felt next, acrid as it washed over her. Anger like she’d never quite felt before.
She pushed herself to standing, snatching the nightgown off of the bed as she did. Her hands shook as she grabbed the garment, lifting it over her head and allowing it to fall around her body.
“I am sorry.”
Conall’s words were bitter as they flickered through the air around her, and she began to shake with rage. She whirled on him, angry tears flowing freely now.
“Aye, ye should be,” she hissed, swiping once more at her wet cheeks. “How dare ye do that to me? Let me guess, ye have nay plans to court me after ye… after we… afterthat?”
She threw a hand behind her, pointing to the bed where he had just feasted upon her. She said nothing else, her chest heaving as she glared at him.
Conall shook his head. Eliza didn’t need him to elaborate further, didn’t need to hear the words that she knew would only to continue to ignite the fury burning her from the inside out. But he spoke anyways.
“I cannae.” There was a note to his voice, something more than regret that Eliza could not place.
But she didn’t care what he was feeling. Not in that moment. Not when a portion of her maidenhood lay soiled on the mattress behind them. Not when she’d given herself to him, and would have done worse.
She would have given herself to him in the way that only a wife should. She would have done it, she knew she would.
Never had Eliza wanted to strike someone. But her hands balled into fists at her side of their own accord.
“Ye are a coward.” She hurled the words at him, announcing each and every syllable so that he would not miss a single bit of what she was saying. “Ye should have been a better man. Ye should have been…”
A low, menacing growl echoed within Conall’s chests. He was in front of her in two quick, strong strides, glaring down into her face.
The fabric of her nightgown was pressed against her thighs as she brushed against the mattress. But that was as far as she could go.
“I should have been what?” he growled, staring down at her with anger and something like shame shining in his own gaze.
“Ye should have nae been a brute,” Eliza hissed, refusing to back down.
They stared at each other, chests heaving and breath mingling. The tension between them was palpable, neither of them daring to move an inch.
Eliza did not know how long they stood like that. It could have been seconds, it could have been minutes. All Eliza knew was that she would not be the first to back down from whatever was occurring within that room.
Finally, his breath left him in a huff and Conall turned on his heels. Wordlessly, he stormed across the room and to the door.
There was a blast of noise as it was opened, letting in the laughter and babbling of the crowd in the restaurant below. And then it was slammed shut, launching Eliza into relative silence once more.
Her tears had stopped flowing, replaced by anger and self-loathing as she sat on the edge of the bed.
The sky beyond the windows was turning dark, the only light to be seen were the last dying rays of the day, streaking the horizon with orange.
It’ll be dark, soon.
She glanced around the room. There was no lantern within it, and soon she would be unable to see.
