Page 129 of Bride of Fire
How Morgan could expect her to have pity on him when he wasn’t willing to send away one pesky maidservant on her behalf was astonishing.
“I…we…lost ye once already,” he said. The memory of suffering shadowed his eyes.
“’Tis your decision,” she repeated with growing confidence. “The maidservant or me.”
He stared at her a long while, weighing the consequences. His delay angered her. But Morgan was a practical man. She had no doubt he’d ultimately see reason. He had to realize how foolish it would appear to choose a common servant over his own wife, who’d been miraculously returned to him from the dead.
Finally, he nodded and let out a long sigh of surrender.
The melancholy in his eyes was like a balm for her wounded pride. She felt the pleasure of triumph, knowing she’d won at last.
Then he spoke.
“Go then, if ye must.”
Alicia’s look of utter shock gave Morgan no pleasure.
He didn’t need her confession to figure out what had happened. Her guilt was obvious from the alarm in her eyes.
She hadn’t been taken from her childbed by Lord Lionel.
She’d run away to him. Willingly.
It had been no secret that Alicia hated living in his home. The English lord must have promised her wealth, position,andan escape from the Highlands.
But even knowing she’d abandoned him to run off with her lover, he’d held out hope that she’d somehow be repentant. If not for his sake, at least for the sake of their child.
Unfortunately, she was not. Whatever shred of remorse might have slipped into her gaze was obliterated by fury. Her face, contorted by hatred, disfigured by rage, was that of a stranger.
She spat vile curses at him, words he’d never heard her utter before. Then, with a scream of outrage, she bolted past him, shoving him aside, and threw open the door to flee.
The slam of the door shook the whole keep and startled a whimper from Allison.
Miles, he corrected. He murmured reassurances against the bairn’s soft, warm head. From now on, he’d call his son Miles.
He could stop Alicia, he thought. He could summon the guards to prevent her from leaving.
But he knew where she was going.
She was returning to her lover.
A day ago, Morgan had sent young Danald as a scout to locate Lord Lionel’s keep. The lad would report back soon. Should he need to find Alicia, Morgan would know where to look.
At the moment, however, he had no desire to do so.
By right, he could punish her for her sins—adultery and desertion.
But he had no will to hurt the mother of his child. His thirst for justice was tempered by a deep melancholy for his poor abandoned son.
Self-preservation propelled Alicia forward as she crossed the courtyard. She didn’t know if Morgan would have her stopped. But she didn’t dare take the chance he might wish to seek vengeance for her crimes.
She couldn’t afford to linger. She had to go—now—before things got any worse.
Before that evil wench could convince Morgan that she’d tried to kill their son.
Before he could find out about what she’d done to Edward.
Even if it meant leaving without a single possession to her name and not a morsel in her satchel.
