Page 64 of The Highlander's Runaway Nun
“This is for her own good,” he muttered aloud, as if saying it enough times would make it true. “The bairn will be cared for among the sisters at the Abbey, away from the curse that follows me.”
He shut his eyes, and the sound of her laughter filled his mind—the way she’d smiled up at him by the fire, her hair shining in the light, her voice soft as a summer breeze.
He cursed under his breath and plunged beneath the surface again, holding himself there until his lungs burned. When he broke the surface once more, gasping, he whispered her name.
“Laura…” The sound was swallowed by the wind.
He looked back toward the distant silhouette of the castle, its towers rising dark against the horizon.
“Forgive me, lass,” he murmured, his voice rough. “Ye deserve a better man than I’ll ever be.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
“Lady McCormack?” a soft voice said with a tap at the chamber door.
“Aye, enter,” Laura said, recognizing Cora’s voice on the other side of the door.
Laura turned over in the bed, her arm reaching instinctively for the empty space beside her, and found only cold sheets.
Cora’s kind face peeked in, her voice soft. “Rise, me Lady. ’Tis mornin’. Ye’ve a long road ahead of ye.”
Laura blinked, her eyes swollen from the night’s tears. Cora carried a tray that smelled of a hearty breakfast.
“I thought ye might like somethin’ to warm ye before ye go,” she said, setting it on the small table by the window.
The scent of porridge sweetened with honey filled the air, mingling with that of fresh oatcakes, smoked ham, and a small pot of strawberry preserves.
“I also packed a bundle of breads, cheeses, smoked fish, and a jug of milk for the journey,” Cora said.
Laura sat up slowly, clutching the blankets to her chest. “Ye didnae need to go through the trouble,” she murmured, her voice thick with sleep and sadness.
“Aye, but I did,” Cora replied firmly, placing her hands on her hips. “Ye’ll nae leave this castle hungry, that I promise ye. Now, come sit, lass, and eat while it’s still hot.”
She poured milk into a small pewter cup and handed it to her.
The warmth of the meal helped settle Laura’s trembling hands. She broke a piece of the oatcake, spreading honey across its surface before taking a small bite. The sweetness lingered on her tongue, stirring memories of simpler days before her heart had known such ache.
“Thank ye, Cora,” she said softly, though her eyes remained downcast. “Ye’ve been more of a friend to me than I deserve.”
Cora sat beside her, shaking her head. “Nonsense, lass. Ye’ve a good heart. The Laird may be too proud to see it now, but one day he’ll ken what he’s lost.” Her tone was fierce, but there wassorrow in her gaze as well. “It’s nae right what he’s done to ye. Sendin’ ye away like some unwanted guest.”
Laura’s throat tightened, and she set down her cup before she could spill it. “Please, Cora, daenae speak ill of him,” she whispered. “He believes he does what’s best. For me… and for the bairn.”
Cora’s expression softened, and she reached out to clasp Laura’s hand, giving it a tender squeeze.
“Best or nae, it still breaks me heart to watch ye go. I greatly value our friendship, and I will be hollow when ye leave,” Cora said.
Laura realized that she wasn’t just leaving Bradley but also her good friend. She stood up and hugged Cora for a long time.
“I will also miss our bond,” she said. “Now sit and join me. One last meal,” Laura said, pulling out a second chair.
Cora smiled and joined Laura at the table. They finished the meal in silence, broken only by the faint chirps of sparrows outside the window.
When they were done eating, Cora rose and brought forth a modest grey wool dress and a thick cloak.
“Here now,” she said, helping Laura from the bed. “Let’s get ye dressed proper. ’Tis a cold mornin’, and ye’ll want to be warm onthe road to the Abbey.” The gown was simple but finely made, the fabric soft against Laura’s skin.
As Cora fastened the cloak about her shoulders, Laura caught sight of herself in the looking glass. Her face was pale, her eyes rimmed red from weeping, yet there was still a quiet strength in her reflection. She had been through heartbreak and betrayal, but she would not let it break her spirit.
