Chapter 24
“Only ye would suggest horse rides this early on a day meant for rest.”
Avery’s voice carried sharp sarcasm, but her grin proved she was happy about the idea.
She tugged at her gloves and then adjusted the strap of her saddle, her eyes bright with her usual mischief. “Truly, Sorcha, some of us enjoy sleep.”
Sorcha gave a small smile.
“Anyway, at least it’s better than being trapped inside the castle all day,” Avery continued lightly. “We get air. Space. A bit of adventure.” She tilted her head, studying her. “Aye, Sorcha?”
No answer.
The sisters exchanged a look.
Sorcha stood beside her horse, one hand resting on the warm curve of its neck. Absentmindedly, her fingers drew small circles, her gaze fixed ahead.
“Ahem.” Avery cleared her throat and stepped closer. “Earth to, Sorcha.” She reached out and tapped her arm.
Sorcha started, blinking as if pulled back from another world. “Oh… sorry,” she murmured.
Avery’s eyebrows rose. “Goodness. What have ye been thinkin’ about?”
Sorcha hesitated. What was she supposed to say?
That she was still furious about what had happened at the fair?
That she replayed every word William had thrown at her, every look, every breath between them?
That she hated how deeply it hurt? That William saw her as nothing but his uncle’s wife? An abandoned widow?
She inhaled slowly. She didn’t want to cry in front of the sisters. They would discover too much. Not that she wanted to share, but the matter was just so ridiculous.
“Daenae worry,” she said, forcing a small smile. “It’s nothing.”
She turned and mounted her horse smoothly, as if that ended the conversation.
Rhea snorted as she climbed onto her own. “A greater liar than ye doesnae exist.”
Sorcha huffed out a breath but didn’t argue.
Soon, the three of them take off. They left Dunrath Castle behind, the morning air cool enough to wake the senses.
Nature was in its prettiest state that morning. Sunlight filtered through the trees, and the castle walls could be seen from a great distance.
Rhea rode ahead, looking out for the designated paths. “There’s a hill nae far from here where ye can see the river stretch for miles,” she said. “And a meadow beyond that. One that’s full of wildflowers this time of year.”
Avery nodded eagerly. “We should visit the old stones, too. Faither used to take us there.”
Sorcha merely listened. She did not care where they went. All she wanted was distance.
Distance from the castle. From its walls. From the man who occupied far too much of her thoughts.
She hated how her chest tightened whenever she remembered his voice. Hated how her body reacted when she remembered the way his hand had once held her, as if she mattered more than anything in the world.
Freedom was all she wanted at the moment, even if it was borrowed.
After riding for an hour, the path eventually led them to a meadow. A narrow stream cut through it, the water clear like polished glass. Flowers bloomed in abundance against the green.
With a huff, Sorcha slid down from her horse, her boots touching the grass.
“This place…” she breathed. “It’s beautiful.”
Avery smiled, her eyes warm. “We wanted to show it to ye because ye belong in Dunrath now.”
“Our faither used to say that this place was planted by an ancestor,” Rhea added softly.
The sisters walked together, holding hands. They wandered closer to the stream, kneeling before touching the water.
Sorcha couldn’t deny how tranquil the place was. Still, Avery’s words echoed in her mind.
An ancestor…
Could it be one of the sisters’ grandparents?
Sorcha sighed. As much as William had angered her last night, she still hadn’t forgotten the delicate history he had shared with her.
He had said his parents had been murdered. But what had truly happened to them?
Her thoughts drifted to the former Laird, a man she had married out of duty. What had he known? Had he been part of whatever darkness lingered here?
Too many questions.
She scolded herself inwardly, shaking her head.
“Sorcha?”
She looked up to find both Avery and Rhea watching her, concern written plainly all over their faces. Their eyes were soft, but filled with questions they were holding back.
Avery sighed, then rose to her feet and crossed toward Sorcha. She sat beside her and gently wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
“Ye look awful, me Lady,” she remarked, though her eyes were kind. “As if ye’re waging a battle inside that head of yers.”
Despite herself, Sorcha chuckled. Avery gave her hand a small squeeze, like a little encouragement.
Rhea remained by the water, her arms folded loosely over her chest. “We came all this way to lift yer spirits,” she added with a crooked smile. “It would be a shame if ye let whatever is botherin’ ye ruin that.”
Sorcha groaned softly and leaned back on her hands. “I want to pull meself out of this funk,” she muttered. “Truly. I want to.” She exhaled harshly. “But whatever this is… it willnae leave me be long enough to breathe.”
Avery hummed. “A stubborn thought, then. Those are the worst kind.”
Sorcha nodded. They were indeed the worst kind.
She looked at the sisters, wondering if she could tell them everything she had heard.
Ever since William had told her about his parents, she had been researching the family. Something she should have done long ago, before proudly taking their name.
With a tired sigh, Sorcha decided to tell them what she found out about their father. Her late husband, in this situation.
“I think there’s a bad history somewhere. Buried deep…” She hesitated, but then forced the words out. “And I think… William hates yer faither.”
She instantly regretted saying it. The only reason she had told them was that she wanted to swap knowledge.
Their father might have told them a thing or two while alive.
Still, she loved the sisters and didn’t want to hurt them.
Telling them that their cousin had hated their father certainly would not land easy.
Avery and Rhea seemed thoughtful for a moment.
Sorcha expected anger, shock, and hurt. Surprisingly, she got none of it. The sisters did not shout. They did not protest. They simply fell quiet. Too quiet.
“Say something.” Sorcha blinked slowly.
Avery was the first to smile. “Rumors arenae hard to hide,” she said. “Especially when everyone tries so hard to pretend they daenae exist.”
Rhea nodded. “Servants whisper,” she added. “They lower their voices when we pass by, but they forget that we’ve grown up hearing silence speak louder than words.”
“We’ve heard bits and pieces for years. Fragments. Contradictions,” Avery continued firmly.
“And pauses,” Rhea chimed in. “Too many pauses.”
Sorcha’s chest tightened. “So… ye kent already?”
“We suspected,” Avery corrected softly.
Rhea looked down at the grass, sounding uncertain now, as if she were choosing each word with care. “We’ve heard those rumors since we were little girls. That Faither may nae have been the savior history remembers.” She swallowed.
Something about her words was chilling. Could family history really be falsified because of greed?
It made Sorcha wonder which side was right. But deep down, she knew William was a good man. Yes, he could be fierce and all, but he was good.
She wanted to believe his part of the story. She knew him only a little. Far too little. And yet every instinct told her the same thing: William was a good man.
That thought lingered in her mind when they returned to the castle. The sun had already dipped low by then.
The sisters dismounted near the stables before stretching their limbs.
“We should all take a bath,” Rhea suggested brightly. “The water’s been warmed. Herbs and steam and all manner of miracles.”
Avery laughed. “Aye. We smell of horse and regret.”
Sorcha smiled faintly, but it never reached her eyes. “I think I’ll pass,” she said softly.
Avery frowned. “Are ye sure?”
Sorcha nodded. “I just… daenae feel like it.”
The truth was heavier than her tiredness. What she felt now was an urgent, restless need to understand William’s pain. To know what he had lost. To learn the truth he carried alone like a wound that never healed.
The sisters shared another look. Then Avery sighed.
“We ken,” she admitted.
Sorcha froze. “Ken what?”
“That ye went to the fair with the Laird,” Rhea said quietly.
Sorcha’s shoulders dropped. There was no point in pretending. “I see…”
Avery rubbed her arm. “We also ken ye’re moody because something went wrong there.”
Rhea smiled sadly. “Fighting with the Laird was supposed to be yer goal,” she teased lightly. “Yet it seems to trouble ye far more than ye expected.”
Sorcha said nothing. She couldn’t deny it. She couldn’t deny any of it. Everything the sisters had said was true.
Soon, they were gone, but Rhea’s words kept echoing in her mind. She was right. All of a sudden, fights with William bothered her more than they were supposed to.
And then realization dawned on her.
I am in love with William.
It stole her breath, causing her to gasp slightly.
That… is terrible.