Page 57 of The Highlander's Runaway Nun
“Failings?” she stepped toward him, her eyes glistening with tears. “I didnae care about yer failings. I only ever wanted to stand beside ye.”
He looked at her as though her words pained him, yet he did not soften. “Ye daenae ken what that would cost, lass. It takes everythin’ and leaves naught but pain. I willnae have ye learn that through me.”
Laura’s tears fell freely now, her voice breaking. “Ye already have,” she said. “Ye’ve torn me heart in two, and ye speak as if it’s mercy.”
He turned his back on her then, as though her tears were too much for him to bear. “It’s decided,” he said gruffly. “Alan will ready the horses by dawn.”
“Nay!” she cried, rushing to him and gripping his arm. “Bradley, please look at me. Ye cannae send me away like this. What kind of life do ye think I’ll have without ye?”
He stilled, her hand trembling against his sleeve. For a fleeting moment, his composure cracked, and his eyes flickered with pain.
But then, just as swiftly, he pulled away from her grasp. “Better a life without me than a life ruined by me,” he said harshly. “Go back to the Abbey, Laura.”
She stared at him through tears, her breath shaking. “Ye ask the impossible,” she whispered. “I’ll nae forget ye. I’ll nae forget any of this. Ye’re me husband, Bradley. Ye’re the faither of me bairn. How could I ever forget ye?”
His shoulders sagged as he stood before the fire, staring into the flames like a man damned. “I’m nae fit to be a faither,” he said lowly. “Me blood runs foul with the cruelty of me line. I’ll nae pass this curse on to the next generation.”
Laura’s lips parted, understanding dawning, but it was too late to reach him through his torment. “Ye are nae yer faither,” she said, her voice gentle but firm. “Ye’ve fought every day to be different from him.”
Bradley shook his head, the firelight glinting off the anguish in his eyes. “And yet I see him in every temper, every dark thought that crosses me mind. If I cannae trust meself, how can I ask ye to?”
She stepped closer, desperation breaking her voice. “Trust that I do! Trust that I see the good in ye, even when ye daenae see it yerself.”
But he turned away again, unable to bear the sight of her tears. “Enough,” he said thickly. “Please, Laura… just go.”
She stood in silence for a long moment, the only sound the soft crackle of the fire and the hollow pounding of her heart. Her vision blurred as her breath hitched, her fingers trembling at her sides.
“Ye’re destroyin’ me,” she whispered brokenly. “I thought I’d finally found a place to belong… and now ye’re takin’ it all away.”
Bradley closed his eyes. Yet he said nothing.
“Cora will come to help ye pack yer things. I’ll have the carriage ready by morn.” Bradley’s expression hardened, and his tone left no room for any more pleading. He turned from her before she could speak again, his cloak brushing past as he strode out the door, slamming it behind him with a thundering crack that seemed to shake her very soul.
The sound echoed through the chamber long after he’d gone, leaving behind a silence so heavy it nearly suffocated her. Laura stood frozen for a heartbeat, her hands trembling at her sides, and then the tears came like a flood she couldnae hold back. She stumbled toward the bed, collapsing upon it as sobs wracked her body, muffled by the coverlet beneath her face. Every memory of his tender smiles, his soft laughter, his warm embrace came crashing through her mind like cruel ghosts mocking her pain.
She couldn’t make sense of how the man who once swore he’d protect her above all else could cast her aside so coldly. It was as though a dark wall had risen between them overnight, and she hadn’t the strength to climb it.
Her heart ached so deeply it felt torn in two, the life within her belly making the pain all the sharper.
Had he only wanted to bed me? And now that I carry his bairn, he’s found nay more use for me? He will find another to fill his bed.
Her sobs quieted into broken whimpers as she stared up at the ceiling, her eyes red and swollen.
The thought of leaving the castle, of leaving him, made her stomach twist in agony. She had come to love this place, but more than that, she had come to care for him with every fiber of her soul, and now he was tearing that love to shreds.
A soft knock sounded at the door, faint but enough to stir her from the depths of her despair. Her heart leapt foolishly, hoping against hope that it might be Bradley, that perhaps he had come to make things right. She rose, wiping her tears, and hurried to the door, pulling it open with trembling hands.
But it wasn’t him. It was Cora.
The maid’s warm eyes filled with worry the moment she saw Laura’s face.
“Och, lass,” she murmured softly, stepping inside and closing the door behind her. “I am so sorry.”
Laura couldn’t speak at first; her throat was too tight with tears. Instead, she fell into Cora’s arms, clutching her as though she were her last tether to the earth.
“He’s sendin’ me away,” she managed between sobs. “He said I’m to go back to the Abbey. Just… ordered it like I was chattel.”
Cora’s arms tightened around her, her voice low and soothing. “Hush now, sweetheart. It’ll be all right, aye? The Laird’s a proud man, and pride makes fools of the best of them. He’s out of sorts just now, that’s all. He’ll come to his senses soon enough.”
