Chapter 25
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Laura sat at her vanity, running a brush slowly through her long hair. The rhythmic sound of bristles through strands usually soothed her, but today it only reminded her of the silence that had filled her days since that dreadful meeting with Lady Ophelia.
Bradley had withdrawn into himself again, keeping to his duties, speaking little, and shutting himself behind the walls of his temper and pain. She had grown used to his quiet moods, but this one felt colder, deeper, as if he had vanished into a place she could not follow.
The fire crackled softly in the hearth, casting a warm glow that danced across her reflection in the mirror.
Her eyes, usually bright with life, now looked tired, dimmed by worry.
She laid the brush down and clasped her hands in her lap, whispering a prayer that he might soon find peace within himself.
The creak of the door startled her, and she turned quickly as Bradley stepped into the room.
“Bradley,” she breathed, rising to her feet, a soft smile forming on her lips.
He stood in the doorway, broad shoulders silhouetted against the flicker of torchlight from the corridor. His expression was unreadable, though his eyes seemed gentler than they had been in days.
“Laura,” he said, his voice low but steady. “Ye’ll need to get ready. We’re ridin’ into the village today.”
She tilted her head slightly, surprised. “Into the village? What for?”
“The blessin’ of the well,” he replied. “The villagers requested ye be there. Said they wouldnae have it without their Lady McCormack.”
Her heart lifted at his words, and she smiled softly. “They… requested me?”
“Aye.” He nodded, stepping further into the room. “They say ye bring them peace, that ye remind them of a saint.”
Laura felt her cheeks warm. “That’s kind of them to say.” She turned toward her wardrobe, pulling out a modest forest-green dress. “I’ll nae have them waitin’. Will ye give me but a moment to change?”
Bradley gave a short nod, turning away to give her privacy as she slipped into the dress and fastened her cloak.
Her fingers trembled slightly at the thought of being near him again, close enough to feel the warmth of his body, close enough to remember what it was like before the distance set in.
She adjusted the clasp of her cloak and stepped toward him.
“I’m ready,” she said softly.
He glanced over his shoulder, and his eyes lingered on her, though only for a heartbeat.
“Good,” he said, his tone quiet but not unkind. “The horse awaits.”
Outside, the air was cool, the scent of heather and damp earth filling the morning.
Bradley helped her mount the horse before climbing up behind her, his strong arms steadying her.
Laura’s breath caught slightly as she settled against him, feeling the firm weight of his chest at her back and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.
“It’s been a while since we rode together,” she murmured.
“Aye,” he replied, keeping his eyes ahead. “Too long.”
They crossed the rolling hills in silence, the mist rising from the moor as the sun began to climb higher.
The wind tugged at her hair, and she found herself leaning closer, finding comfort in his warmth.
She could feel the tension in his body begin to ease the farther they rode, as though the open land itself worked to soothe the unrest in him.
When the rooftops of the village came into view, Laura could already hear the hum of excitement. Children ran through the lanes, their laughter echoing, and villagers began to gather near the newly restored well at the square’s center. As the horse drew closer, cheers rang out.
“Lady McCormack!” voices called. “Saint McCormack herself!”
Laura’s cheeks flushed crimson, and she ducked her head shyly. “Saint McCormack?” She whispered to Bradley, her voice filled with disbelief.
He chuckled softly, a sound she hadn’t heard from him in days. “Aye, that’s what they call ye, lass. The people see what I see—a kind soul, pure of heart.”
“Oh, Bradley,” she murmured, looking up at him, her heart swelling. “Ye ken I’m nae a saint.”
“Mayhap nae,” he said, his eyes meeting hers briefly. “But ye’ve a spirit that mends hearts, Laura. Mine included.”
Her lips parted slightly, a rush of emotion welling in her chest. “Ye mean that?”
He nodded once, the ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I do. Ye’ve done what nay one else ever could; ye’ve brought smiles to this torn village again.”
As they reached the square, the villagers surrounded them with smiles and greetings. Laura dismounted carefully, helped down by Bradley’s steady hand.
The priest began the ceremony, blessing the well with holy water while the villagers bowed their heads. Laura stood beside Bradley, her hand brushing his lightly, a silent connection sparking between them.
Laura stepped forward to the edge of the well, the chatter of the villagers falling to a hush behind her. The morning sun caught in her hair, and the air seemed to still as she grasped the rope with both hands.
“Aye then,” she said softly, lowering the wooden bucket into the cool darkness below. “Let this be the first draw of the new well, blessed by the hands of the folk who’ll drink from it.”
The bucket hit the water with a soft splash, and she began to pull it up, her arms straining slightly against the weight.
“Careful now, me Lady,” one of the old men called with a grin. “Ye daenae want the first blessin’ spillin’ back into the hole.”
Laura laughed lightly, her cheeks flushed. “Nae, I’d never waste a drop meant for good hearts,” she replied, steadying the bucket as it reached the top.
She took a deep breath and then lifted her face toward the sky. “By the grace of God and the saints, may this well never run dry,” she said firmly. “May it quench thirst, wash sorrow, and bring peace to every soul who drinks from it.”
The crowd cheered and praised God. Laura turned to Bradley, and he nodded his head in encouragement.
After the prayers, a small girl with golden curls ran forward and handed Laura a bundle of flowers. “For ye, me Lady,” the girl said shyly. “Ma said ye’re the reason we’ve got hope again.”
Laura knelt down and smiled, taking the flowers gently. “Thank ye, lass. Ye tell yer ma I’m just glad to be among such good folk.”
The villagers cheered again, and Laura looked up to see Bradley watching her, his expression soft, almost reverent. For the first time in what felt like weeks, she saw the man she loved without the shadow of anger or pride clouding his eyes.
When the ceremony ended, they lingered a moment longer, speaking with the villagers and sharing smiles. Bradley placed a hand at the small of her back as they made their way back to the horse, the gesture firm but tender.
“Ye did well,” he said quietly. “The people adore ye, and they’ve a good reason. I found ye at an abbey, lass, and it seems holiness has followed ye since.”
Laura laughed lightly, her eyes shining. “If kindness is holiness, then it’s the same that lives in ye, Bradley. Ye just didnae see it yet.”
He gave a low hum, not arguing for once. “Mayhap ye’re right,” he murmured as he helped her back onto the horse. “But I ken this, without ye, this land would feel empty.”
As they began the ride back to the castle, Laura leaned into him once more, the steady rhythm of the horse beneath them mirroring the quiet peace between them.
The sun broke through the clouds then, casting golden light over the hills, and for the first time in many days, Laura felt as though everything—him, her, the land—was finally beginning to heal.
The following morning, Laura woke with a start, her stomach twisting like the sea in a storm.
She barely had time to grab the wooden bucket by the bedside before she was bent over it, her body trembling as she emptied her stomach.
The sound echoed softly in the quiet chamber, broken only by the faint crackle of the dying hearth.
When she finally sat back, pale and breathless, she wiped her mouth with a trembling hand and groaned softly.
“Saints above,” she murmured, pressing a hand to her brow.
“I must’ve eaten somethin’ spoiled last night.
” She took in the early morning light slipping through the drapes, painting the chamber gold.
The scent of fresh rushes and faint lavender clung to the air, but her stomach turned again at the smell.
There was a knock at the door. “It’s Cora.”
“Enter,” Laura said.
The door creaked open, and Cora bustled in, carrying a basin of warm water. Her eyes widened as she saw Laura hunched over the bucket.
“Och, me Lady, ye’re lookin’ pale as the moon,” Cora said, setting the basin down quickly. “Are ye ill?”
Laura waved a weak hand. “’Tis nothin’, I’m sure,” she said softly. “Must be a bug or something of the sort. It’ll pass soon enough.”
Cora tilted her head, her shrewd eyes glinting. “A bug, ye say? Hm.” She crossed her arms over her apron. “Tell me, lass, how many morns now have ye been wakin’ up feelin’ like this?”
Laura frowned, confused. “This is the first time,” she admitted. “Truly, Cora, daenae fuss so.”
But Cora stepped closer, lowering her voice with a knowing smile. “Forgive me sayin’ it plain, me Lady, but it sounds a fair bit like more than just a wee sickness. Could it be that an heir is on the way?”
Laura’s breath caught, her eyes widening. “An heir?” she whispered, her cheeks blooming red. “Cora, I, I daenae ken. I havenae thought…” She suddenly went still, her hand flying to her stomach.
Cora’s grin widened, her voice soft but teasing. “Aye, it seems the thought’s strikin’ ye now. Tell me true, has yer moon come this month?”
Laura blinked in confusion, her face flushing even deeper. “Me moon?”
Cora sighed dramatically and perched on the edge of the bed. “Och, lass, ye were raised by holy women, were ye nae? Tell me ye at least ken what that means.”
Laura bit her lip and looked away, embarrassed. “I… suppose I daenae ken much,” she confessed quietly. “The nuns didnae speak of such things in detail. They said a lady shouldnae dwell on the matters of the body, only on prayer and duty.”
Cora chuckled under her breath, shaking her head. “Well, prayers willnae tell ye when ye’re carryin’ a bairn, that’s for certain. Let me ask ye plain, me Lady, have ye bled at all since the Laird took ye to be his wife?”
Laura’s lips parted, but no words came. She thought back. How many days had passed since her last bleeding? Her heart thudded harder as realization began to creep in. “I, I cannae remember,” she stammered. “It’s been… a while now.”
Cora clapped her hands together, her eyes bright with delight. “Then I’ll wager ye’re with child, me Lady! Oh, the Laird’ll be over the moon when he hears of this!”
Laura’s pulse quickened at the words. “With child?” she repeated faintly, resting a hand on her stomach again. “Saints preserve me, I… I daenae even ken what that means for me now.”
Cora laughed kindly, the sound filling the room like sunshine. “It means, dear heart, that ye’ll be bringin’ a wee bairn into this world, a child of yer own and the Laird’s blood. A McCormack heir!”
Laura’s throat tightened. “But I daenae ken how to do this,” she said softly. “The nuns never taught us what happens when a woman carries a child. Only that ‘tis a sacred duty between husband and wife.”
Cora’s smile softened into one of maternal warmth. “Ah, well, ye’re learnin’ now, lass. There’s nothin’ to fear. Ye’ll have me and the healers to guide ye through every bit of it.” She reached out, resting a hand on Laura’s shoulder. “Ye’ll be just fine, I promise ye that.”
Laura looked up at her, her blue eyes full of uncertainty. “But how will I tell Bradley?” she whispered. “He’s been so distant these days, ever since his maither came. What if… what if he doesnae want this?”
Cora snorted. “Och, nonsense! The man will be burstin’ with pride. Every laird dreams of an heir, and he adores ye, whether he says the words or not. This’ll bring him joy, I promise ye.”
Laura managed a weak smile, though doubt still lingered in her heart. “Aye, perhaps ye’re right,” she murmured. “He has wanted an heir. Maybe… maybe this will make him happy again.”
Cora nodded firmly. “It surely will, me Lady. And ye must rest now. Nay strainin’ yerself, ye hear me?
I’ll fetch some tea to settle yer stomach.
” She rose briskly, but before she left, she paused and looked back at Laura with a grin.
“Oh, and daenae fret, soon enough, everyone will ken that the Lady of McCormack Castle carries the future of the clan in her belly.”
When Cora left, Laura sat very still on the edge of the bed, her hand once more drifting to her abdomen. The thought felt strange, wonderful, and terrifying all at once. A child. Her and Bradley’s child.
Her heart swelled with emotion, a tear slipping down her cheek. “A bairn,” she whispered to the quiet chamber. “Aye… perhaps this is the Lord’s blessin’ after all.”
Outside, the wind swept softly against the stone walls, carrying the promise of new beginnings. And for the first time since her marriage, Laura truly felt she was part of something greater, something that might just heal all wounds between her and her Laird.