Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
“Keep up, Poppy,” Laura said.
Laura strolled beneath the high pines, her hand brushing along the rough bark as she kept a steady pace.
The air smelled of damp earth and sweet heather, carrying the calm that always settled her thoughts.
Poppy skipped a few paces behind, her small black curls bouncing, her blue eyes fixed on the ground as if searching for something unseen.
Laura slowed, turning to face the girl with a gentle smile.
“See here, lass,” Laura said softly, pointing at a cluster of green leaves with tiny white blossoms. “This is a wood anemone. It blooms when the spring wakes the land.” She tilted her head, coaxing gently. “Can ye say it, Poppy?”
The girl stared, lips pressed tight, and said nothing. Laura’s smile did not falter, though her heart ached for the child’s silence. She crouched low, brushing her fingers against the petals, then raised her eyes again with patient warmth.
“An-e-mo-ne,” she repeated slowly, each syllable stretched as if to help the girl catch them. “Go on now, try it. Just a wee word.”
Still, Poppy stood mute, her fingers clutching at her skirts. Laura sighed softly, though she leaned closer, refusing to give up. “It’s a bonnie word, light on the tongue. Ye’ll like the feel of it once ye let it out.”
Laura rose and continued down the shaded path, pointing toward another plant tucked in the moss. “Foxglove,” she said, lifting the tall stalk between her fingers. “Ye see the way the blossoms hang, like wee bells? Foxes hide their paws in them, they say.”
Poppy tilted her head, her eyes wide with curiosity, but her lips remained sealed. Laura laughed gently, brushing back the mute girl’s hair with a soft touch. “Ah, Poppy. One day, ye’ll surprise me, and I’ll hear the sweetest sound from ye yet.”
Her words faltered as the sound of hooves broke the quiet, steady and sure against the soft earth. She stiffened, her hand falling from Poppy’s hair as she turned her head toward the path’s bend. The rhythm grew louder, deeper, until the rider came into view through the trees.
Laura’s breath caught in her throat, and her words fell away mid-sentence. She knew that face, that dark, unyielding presence, even though years had passed since she had last seen him in that portrait. Bradley Knox rode forward with purpose.
He was taller, broad in the shoulders, and with arms thick as tree boughs. A short beard framed his mouth. His hair, black as night, hung loose in the breeze, wild and untamed as the look in his gaze. Laura felt her heart pound, though she forced herself to remain still.
“Back to the Abbey, Poppy,” Laura said sharply, her tone clipped and unlike her usual gentleness. “Now.”
The little girl startled at the command, her eyes darting between Laura and the towering man astride the horse. Without hesitation, she turned and ran, her small figure vanishing between the trees toward the safety of the Abbey walls.
Laura kept her gaze locked on the rider, her body stiff with unease. Laura’s hands curled at her sides as she forced herself not to tremble beneath his stare. In that moment, she knew, her past had ridden into her present, and there would be no turning back.
Her breath quickened as Bradley swung down from his horse in one fluid motion.
The stallion snorted and pawed the ground while its master strode forward, tall and broad, his steps steady with purpose.
Sunlight filtered through the trees, casting a wild gleam in his black eyes as he stopped before her.
Laura’s heart hammered, but she lifted her chin, unwilling to let him see her fear.
“What are ye doing here?” she asked, her voice sharp though her chest ached with unease. “Ye’ve nay right to be standin’ on Abbey ground. Speak yer reason plain.”
“I’ve come for ye, Laura Gilmour,” he said, his tone low and certain, as if no other answer could be given. “It’s time ye did yer duty and wed me, just as was promised.”
Laura stiffened, her hands curling in the folds of her gown. “Promised?” she spat, her eyes flashing. “I owe ye naught, Bradley Knox. I’ll soon take me vows and belong to God alone.”
She saw Bradley’s jaw tighten, though a half-smirk tugged at his mouth. “Yer faither, Ethan Gilmour, made a bond with me own faither. Four years ago, he gave ye to me, and I’ve come to claim what’s mine.”
Laura’s cheeks burned, her anger rising swiftly. “I am nae some cow to be bartered like coin, nor am I yers to claim!”
“I’ll nae turn back empty-handed. Ye’re bound to me, whether ye stamp yer feet or nae,” he said.
Laura’s breath shook, but her defiance held.
“I’ll nae go with ye, Bradley. I’ve found peace here, and I’ll give me life to somethin’ greater than a man’s pride.
Me faither’s word is naught but ash to me.
He gave me away as if I were less than flesh and blood.
I’ll nae let his bargains chain me now.”
Bradley’s lips curved into something between a smile and a snarl. “Ye speak boldly, lass, but bonds of blood and clan are nae so easily broken. Ye’ll learn that soon enough, when ye ride at me side.”
Laura’s throat tightened, but she forced the words through gritted teeth. “Over me dead body. Ye’ll drag a corpse to yer keep afore I ever go willingly.”
He leaned closer, his voice a low growl that sent shivers along her skin. “We’ll see about that, Laura Gilmour. I always get what’s mine.”
“I am nae yers,” she said.
He stepped closer, his voice hard as stone. “Either ye come with me, or I’ll burn yer precious Abbey to the ground.”
The words rang through Laura like a blade, each syllable a cruel reminder of the power he held.
Her chest rose and fell quickly, fury warring with dread as she held his stare.
“If I go with ye, ye must swear to leave the Abbey in peace,” she said, her tone unyielding though her hands trembled. “Swear it, Bradley Knox, or I’ll stand here and let ye strike me down afore I take one step.” The silence was heavy, broken only by the sound of his horse’s restless shifting.
His lips curved into a half-smirk, but his eyes were cold. “Fine, lass. Ye have me word. I’ll nae raise a torch to the Abbey if ye come with me now.” The promise was thin as smoke, but it was all she could cling to.
Laura drew in a sharp breath, her heart sinking as if weighted with chains.
She nodded once, her jaw tight, and forced her feet toward him.
The world around her blurred as she let him take her arm and lead her to the waiting beast of a horse.
She kept her chin high, though every step felt like surrender.
Moments later, Laura sat pressed against him, his arms firm around her as the stallion surged forward.
The warmth of his chest at her back unsettled her, his strength undeniable and suffocating.
She should have been numb with terror, but an unbidden shiver of strange thrill coursed through her veins.
She hated herself for feeling it, hated him for making her feel it more.
The forest blurred past them, green and gold streaks in the setting sun.
She tried not to notice the rhythm of his breath against her hair, steady and certain, as if he had already claimed victory.
Her fingers clenched the folds of her skirt, digging into the fabric until her knuckles whitened.
She prayed silently that God would give her strength to endure what lay ahead.
Hours passed, the sound of hooves echoing through valleys and across rugged paths. Laura’s body ached from the ride, yet her mind spun faster than the horse’s pace. She thought of the Abbey. The thought of leaving them cut deep, but she clung to the knowledge she had spared them from his wrath.
At last, the land began to change, opening wide to a stretch of glistening water.
There, rising proud and commanding on its isle, stood Castle McCormack.
Its stone towers reached skyward, weathered by centuries yet strong, and its walls gleamed faintly in the fading light.
A wooden bridge stretched across the water like a lifeline to the mainland.
Laura’s breath caught as she stared, awe battling with dread in her chest. It was beautiful, rugged, and wild, surrounded by greenery that seemed to guard it as fiercely as the waters below.
She had seen many places in her short years, yet nothing compared to this sight.
Her heart whispered fear, but her eyes could not help but marvel.
Bradley leaned down slightly, his breath hot against her ear.
“Aye, lass. This will be yer home now.” The words were heavy, final, spoken like a man who never lost what he claimed.
Laura swallowed hard, her gaze fixed on the castle looming ahead, knowing her life had changed forever.