Page 62 of The Highlander's Runaway Nun
“He’s a stubborn fool,” she whispered.
She rubbed Angus’s head and smiled faintly. “And now, wee one, ye and I must be strong for the bairn, aye?”
The puppy gave a soft bark, and she took it as his agreement. She tore another small bit of bread for him and finished her milk. Outside, she could hear the faint patter of rain beginning against the stone walls.
“I’ll miss this place,” she said softly. “But perhaps it’s better to remember it like this, quiet and kind.”
She froze when she heard the sound of heavy boots echoing through the corridor beyond the kitchen. The hair at the back of her neck prickled, and she held her breath. The door creaked open, letting in a draft of cold air and the faint glow of a torch from the hallway. A tall figure stepped into the doorway, then stopped abruptly as though startled to find someone there, before quickly turning to leave.
Her heart leaped. She knew that walk, that broad frame, the way his shoulders squared even in the dim light.
“Bradley?” she whispered, hurrying after him. She caught up with him in the corridor, her bare feet slapping softly against the stone.
“Bradley, wait!”
He stopped, his jaw tight, his expression shadowed in the torchlight.
“What in God’s name are ye doing wanderin’ the castle at this hour?” His voice was gruff, though not unkind. His eyes flicked over her, barefoot, wrapped only in her shawl and nightshift, and he exhaled sharply.
“Ye shouldnae be out and about alone, least of all dressed like that.”
Laura’s cheeks flushed with both embarrassment and irritation. “I couldnae sleep,” she said, her tone clipped. “I went to the kitchen for food, that’s all. I didnae think I’d find anyone else awake.”
He folded his arms, looking as weary as she’d ever seen him. “Aye, well… I couldnae sleep either,” he admitted quietly, though his gaze stayed fixed on the floor between them.
For a moment, there was silence, just the faint crackle of a torch and the wind moaning through the arrow slits. Then Laura’s hurt boiled to the surface.
“Why do ye care what I do anyway?” she snapped, her voice trembling. “Ye’ve made yer decision clear. Ye’ve cast me aside like I’m nothin’ to ye.”
His head jerked up, eyes flashing with anger and pain. “Daenae say that, Laura,” he growled. “It’s for yer own good. I’m doing what must be done.”
“For me own good?” She echoed bitterly, taking a step closer. “Ye send me away, out of me home, away from me husband, and call itfor me own good? Daenae lie to me, Bradley McCormack. I’ll nae stand for it.”
He took a step back, his jaw working. “It’s the truth, lass. Ye’ll be safer there at the Abbey. I cannae…”
“Ye cannae what?” she cut in sharply. “Cannae bear to look at me? To see what ye’ve done?” Her eyes filled with tears, though her voice was sharp as glass. “Tell me the truth. Ye used me in yer bed, and now ye’re done with me. Admit it, Bradley.”
He flinched as if she’d struck him. “That’s a false accusation, Laura,” he said tightly. “Ye ken I’d never use ye.”
“Then why?” she demanded, her tears spilling freely now. “Why send me away when I need ye most? When yer bairn grows inside me, and I wake every mornin’ prayin’ ye’ll smile at me like ye once did?” Her voice broke on the last word, trembling with grief and fury alike.
Bradley turned away, raking a hand through his hair. “Because I cannae do this,” he muttered. “I cannae be the man ye think I am. I’ll only hurt ye. I already have. And I cannae promise I willnae do the same to the bairn.”
Laura stared at him, her chest heaving. “Ye daenae get to decide what I can endure, Bradley,” she said fiercely. “I vowed meself to ye, for better or worse, and I meant every word. But ye, ye’vedone nothin’ but push me away since the moment I told ye about our bairn.”
He clenched his fists, his shoulders rigid. “It’s for the best,” he said again, his tone hollow, as though he were convincing himself as much as her. “I’ve made me choice.”
“Stop repeatin’ that it’s for the best,” she said coldly. “I am sick of hearin’ those words. And I see now what kind of man ye truly are. A coward who hides behind excuses and pride instead of facin’ what’s in front of him.”
His eyes snapped to hers, burning with hurt and anger. “Mind yer tongue, Laura,” he warned.
But she didn’t stop. “Nay, I willnae,” she cried. “Because I’ve had enough of yer silence and yer cruelty. Bradley, God help me, I still care for ye, but I’ll nae let ye break me any longer. If ye want me gone, fine. But daenae pretend it’s for me own sake. It’s because ye’re afraid.”
“Afraid?” he repeated, his voice rough.
“Aye,” she said, her chin trembling but her gaze steady. “Afraid of what it means to be in a family of yer own makin’. Afraid of being happy. Afraid of what kind of faither ye’ll be. But I’ll tell ye somethin’, Bradley, ye’ll never be yer faither unless ye choose to be.”
He stood frozen, every word striking deep, but he said nothing.
