Page 10 of Married to the Icy Highlander
“Well, ye ran away so quickly,” Ida noted, clear accusation in her tone. “What were we supposed to think? I had to make up excuses on yer behalf to those who lingered.”
If her mother was trying to make her feel guilty, it worked.
“I didnae mean to leave ye to explain…”
“Well, ye did. Perhaps now ye could tell us what really happened,” Ida urged softly.
Ceana stalled, running a finger over the rim of her teacup, trying to find a way to explain it all away. “I couldnae find Blaine at the castle.”
“Well, we kenned that much,” Ersie said flatly.
Ersie would likely be a lot less forgiving than her mother.
“I met with the Laird, and he made me a deal that I couldnae refuse,” Ceana continued, casting a sharp look in Ersie’s direction. “What was I supposed to do? He offered to marry me, and I accepted.”
Ida sat up straighter. Her eyes widened, and she fidgeted with her hands the way she always did when she was not sure what to do with herself. Any excitement that was too much for her to handle and the frenetic energy inside of her transformed into strange movements.
She rose from the table and quickly moved to the stairs.
“The Laird?!” she gasped, a bright smile on her face. “Me daughter, married to the Laird?”
“Where are ye goin’?” Ceana hissed as if the news was a secret.
“To tell yer braither!”
“He’s sleepin’!”
“He would want to ken!” Ida insisted as she hurried up the stairs. “If I wait till morning to tell him, he will never forgive me!” Then, she paused. “Thank ye, daughter,” she added softly.
When she stopped before Peter’s room, his cat, Myrtle, hissed at her—a warning not to open the door it had been sleeping in front of—and then yowled low when she entered the room regardless. However, almost all sound was cut off when she closed the door behind her.
And thus Ceana was left downstairs with Ersie and the judgmental look on her face.
“The villagers werenae kind with their gossip when ye ran away,” Ersie said softly.
“I didnae mean to leave her to shoulder it alone… I just…” Ceana huffed. “I saw red, I snapped. I couldnae believe that he wouldjilt me at the altar. He’s been me friend since we were bairns, and I…”
The hurt bubbled up. She had been angry this whole time for the humiliation she had suffered. Until this very moment, she had wanted to find Blaine so that she could wrap her hands around his thick neck. She had wanted to confront him and demand answers. She had been seeking closure, and then she had been so sidetracked that she hadn’t processed anything until now.
Blaine had stood her up. He had promised that he would marry her and then chose to leave her. He hadn’t cared about her reputation or the rumors that would follow her. And she couldn’t fathom a single reason why he had done that. He couldn’t be injured. He couldn’t be detained, or else the Laird would have told her. Blaine was far too skilled of a warrior to be injured in a way that would prevent him from attending his own wedding.
The only reason she kept circling back to was that he simply hadn’t wanted to marry her in the first place.
He hadlied.
Ceana’s gaze dropped to her hands in her lap, fidgeting with her skirts and turning the gray fabric over her fingers and back again.
Ersie sighed heavily and pushed a folded piece of paper across the table toward her. The dried wax sealing it was jagged around the edges as if it was hastily embossed.
“It arrived two hours ago. I didnae open it—didnae ken when ye were comin’ back,” she explained. “I didnae show it to yer maither yet—I wasnae sure of its contents…”
“It’s…”
Ceana took the letter and opened it quickly, confirming from the handwriting alone that it was from Blaine. She read it once, twice, and then she crumpled it in her fist. The words bounced around in her head, and she couldn’t make them stop. Nothing made sense.
“Well?” Ersie prompted, finishing the rest of her tea.
Ceana almost didn’t want to tell her what it said. “In short, it says that he’s nae comin’ back.”
