Page 38 of Here in Your Arms
She was hardly surprised by this response.
Then, after several minutes, another thought nagged at her, one she just recalled, one that had kept her awake for part of the night—or rather it had beenoneof the thoughts that had made sleep hard to come by.
“The men from last night,” she ventured. “The ones who...” She trailed off, not wanting to put words to the bullying she’d been subjected to. “Their punishment... it wasn’ttoosevere, was it?”
The laird’s gaze flicked toward her, his brow furrowing slightly, as though surprised she even cared.
“They were dealt with,” he said simply.
Rose sighed. That wasn’t an answer.
He must have sensed her dissatisfaction, because after another pause, he added, “They’ll live. They’ll heal. And they’ll ken twice before disobeying an order again.”
That, at least, was a little more reassuring.
Strangely, as they walked on, the wind cooler against her face as the sun ducked behind scattered hazy clouds, the silence between them no longer felt quite so awkward.
Chapter Nine
“We leave for Dunmara in the morning,” Emmy said to Rose as they sat at the table for supper.
Rose inhaled sharply, blinking as she turned to Emmy, caught off guard. “Right. Good.”
Emmy went on, “Personally—and I’m sure you agree—it was a mistake to stay even as long as we did.” She continued, saying that her husband was anxious to return to Dunmara, listing several things that needed Brody MacIntyre’s attention at home.
Rose only half-listened, digesting the first part—they were leaving Druimlach. Truth be told, she’d have thought she would—or should—feel an instant wave of relief.
She didn’t want to be here, at Druimlach, where too many eyes still watched her with suspicion, where whispers followed her in corridors and through the courtyard, and where Margaret’s mother clung to her like a drowning woman grasping at air, looking at her with a love that had nothing to do with Rose.
She should have felt nothing but relief.
And yet... she didn’t.
Some unsettling thing shifted inside her, a small, nagging hesitation she didn’t quite understand.
“... and Brody’ll want to get going first thing in the morning,” Emmy was saying. “Not that you and I have much to pack, but just so you know to be ready.”
“Nae!”
The gasp, directly behind them, turned both Emmy and Rose around.
Leana stood there, behind the chairs of the dais, her mournful gaze fixed on Emmy. “Ye canna take her.” She turned her attention to Rose. “Ye canna leave,” Leana pleaded, shakingher head, her silver-threaded hair trembling slightly with the motion. “Nae yet, nae now. Ye’ve only just come back.”
The murmur of conversations within the hall seemed to quiet, Leana’s plaintive beseeching having caught the attention of many.
Ignoring the weight of too many eyes aimed at her, Rose looked up at the pitiful woman. “Lady Leana, I am Rose,” she reminded her gently, though her tone was painted with an undercurrent of pleading, begging her to finally see it. “I’m not Margaret. I’m sorry.”
Possibly her words went unheard, the sheer force of the woman’s sorrow making reality an elusive thing.
Leana hands trembled as she reached for Rose, fingers sinking into her shoulder.
“Stay,” she implored softly, her voice thick with emotion. “Please, my love. If nae for me, for him.” She sent a fleeting glance down the length of the occupied chairs, toward the middle of the table, where sat the MacRae laird, Brody, and Leana’s husband, among others.
Rose’s heart stuttered.For him? Margaret’s father?He’d barely given her the time of day. Rose hadn’t spoken two words to him since coming to Druimlach. She swallowed hard, shaking her head. “For your husband?” She asked, wrinkling her brow.
Leana frowned, “Nae, for yer husband. For Tiernan.”
Rose blinked. Tiernan? Who was—?
