Page 44 of A Wife for the Highland Wolf
She hurried away from the table, vision blurry with tears that she refused to let fall. She kept walking until she reached the nursery.
To her relief, only the maid was there, along with Hector. Finn was also awake, his face messy with the remains of the porridge the maid had been attempting to feed him. He held out his hands with a smile as she entered. “Lyda!”
“Hello, me bonny lad. And how are ye this morn?”
Finn giggled. “Lyda! Hector!”
“Aye. I saw ye had Hector with ye. Were ye playing with him afore eating yer breakfast?”
“And determined to share, he was.” The maid answered the question with a fond smile. “He’s been in a good mood this morn.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” She smiled at the bairn and took up a soft cloth to wash his face. Once she was done, she stood and took the maid aside. “I’m sorry to say that he’s like to be unhappy in the next few days. Laird Lochlann is sending meself and Hector home.”
“I’m sorry to hear it me lady.” The maid’s eyes were sympathetic. “I’m sure the lad will miss ye both.”
“And we’ll miss him.”
Lydia turned and brushed a hand across Finn’s cheek, before pressing a kiss to his brow. “Fare ye well, Finn. I’ll miss ye.”
She turned away before her tears could escape, and tapped her leg to get Hector’s attention. “Come Hector.” The big dog rose and followed her, his tail low as if he too sensed and mourned their departure.
Back in her quarters Lydia looked at the assembled bags and travel chests piled near the door. It had taken her most of the night to pack her things, but in a way she was grateful for it. It had given her less time to think about the fact that Murdoch was sending her away.
It hurt. She’d finally found her answers and had begun to realize that she had feelings for the tall, taciturn laird who had claimed her as his bride. Now he was sending her away, as if the feelings that had been building between them meant nothing to him.
Worse, he didn’t seem to care about her relationship with Finn or Wilma or anyone else. He’d all but dragged her to the castle, and now that she’d gotten to know and care about its people he was forcing her to leave most of them.
Wilma had come to check on her last night and found her crying while trying to pack her things. The young woman had been outraged on Lydia’s behalf once she’d explained to her what had transpired.
She still wasn’t sure how they’d gone from their teary conversation to Wilma deciding to accompany her home to meet Nora, but Murdoch’s cousin would be coming with her when she departed. Lydia had no idea how long Wilma might stay, but knowing she wouldn’t have to make the journey alone was comforting, nonetheless.
She’d already sent messages to her sisters informing them she would be returning. She hadn’t had the heart to explain why and finished the letters with a simple ‘I will tell ye more when I see ye at our home of Clyde Castle’.
The problem was, she wasn’t entirely sure what had happened or what was running through Murdoch’s mind . Yes, the attack had been sudden and dangerous, but it wasn’t as if such things were unknown amongst the clans her family controlled. She’d lived through far more difficult and dangerous situations.
Perhaps she was as inured to violence as Isobel and Nora, whose particular talents often saw them facing the aftershock of battle, but she wasn’t some helpless bairn either. Before last night, she’d thought Murdoch could see that.
Lydia felt tears stinging her eyes and made an effort to shake them away. She couldn’t afford to let herself think of such things.She needed to begin her journey before Murdoch fulfilled his promise to have her thrown out of his home by force.
She started to turn and call the servants when her eye fell on a book left lying on her bedside table. It was the one Murdoch had purchased for her. After everything that had happened, she’d all but forgotten about it.
Her hand traced the leather cover. She’d been so looking forward to reading it, but now just looking at it made her feel ill. She couldn’t imagine reading the tome, knowing that every turn of the page would remind her of Murdoch and the events of the previous night.
After a moment she turned away and left the book on her bedside table. Murdoch had paid for it so one might argue it was his. She wouldn’t have him accuse her of stealing something he’d spent good silver on. It was a pity such a priceless treasure wouldn’t get the attention it deserved, but it was better than the possible alternatives.
She called the servants to collect the traveling chests and most of her packs, taking only one small pack that held two books and her cloak in case of rain. Then she whistled softly and called out “Hector.”
The big dog, who’d been laying in front of the hearth, came up to stand beside her with a soft inquisitive whine. No doubt he’d picked up on her morose mood. His nose pressed against her hand as if consoling her. Lydia swallowed hard and pattedhis head in reassurance. “Come on, me fine lad, tis time to go home.”
Out in the courtyard, Wilma was busily loading her own things into the carriage that she’d convinced the castle steward to give up for the trip. Lydia was grateful she’d managed to secure it, as traveling without it would have been lengthy and cumbersome.
Lydia greeted her with a strained smile as she approached.
“There ye are. I was beginnin’ to worry about ye. Have ye said yer goodbyes?”
“Aye. I saw Finn this morn, and Hector and I both bid him farewell. I spoke to yer faither and brother at breakfast.” Not that she’d had the appetite to stomach much of it.
“And Murdoch?”
