Chapter 17
Sorcha marched toward the stable, the wind tearing at her cloak. She didn’t mind it as much as it matched the coldness in her heart, breaking it into a thousand pieces.
The stableboy started as she walked in and she waved him off, scared that if she opened her mouth, the tears would release, and she would be unable to pull them back.
When she had first heard that Liam was back, her heart was bursting with happiness. Sorcha had hurried and donned her best dress, the spurt of energy the first she had in awhile. After a week of being apart, she could no longer wait to see his handsome face and ensure that he was alright.
A servant had directed her to the study, and as she drew closer, the voices were unmistakable. Sorcha had paused as she heard her husband’s voice, her heart hammering in her chest.
But the words that had come out of his mouth was not something she had anticipated.
Liam was still in love with Nelia, and his heart was only meant for her. He had said it himself, that he couldn’t love anyone else but her.
Which meant he did not love her.
Sorcha made it to Iron’s stall and placed her hand on the flank, finding her hand trembling. Now here she was, a fool to think that he could ever love her as much as she loved him. She was pregnant with his child, yet even that could not overshadow his love for his first wife.
She would never hold any part of his heart.
Not bothering to saddle Iron, Sorcha led her out of the stall and into the sunlight, grateful that while it was still cold out, the snow had stopped.
Two days ago, she had said farewell to those that had stayed in the keep, taking her time cleaning her husband’s home so that when he came back, it would feel like a home.
Clearly, she would not be able to do that right either.
Sorcha’s heart twisted painfully in her chest as she slung her body onto Iron’s back, patting the horse’s neck before setting off out of the village.
As much as she thought she was starting to fit in here, that this could be her permanent home, his words had sent it all crashing at her feet.
She could not stay with him if he chose to pine after his first wife and never see the happiness that she could bring him.
No matter how much she loved him in return.
Sorcha pointed Iron toward the moors, the cold wind chafing her face and lips. She was wearing a woolen gown and heavy cloak, her hands in leather gloves, but the wind seemed to still tear into her body and chill her bones.
Well, it was going to be a feeling she had for quite some time. Her husband did not love her. She would never be part of his life, except in his bed, and when he closed his eyes at night, it was not her he thought of.
It was a woman he could not have, one that had shared all kinds of memories with him. And now he pined after her memory, her ghost.
A ghost that would haunt Sorcha and her own measure of happiness.
Once they were clear of the village, Sorcha spurred Iron into a breakneck run, her hair whipping behind her. She had given up everything to come here and try to find a home. She had proffered a marriage of convenience, yet it had not lasted long, and she had lost her heart in the process.
Something she could never get back.
Sorcha drew in a tortured breath, feeling the tears roll down her cheeks as she raced along the moors.
She could not escape this hurt, no matter how hard she attempted to do so, nor could she go back in time and keep herself from choosing this path.
This was her future. She had the laird’s bairn in her belly and nothing more.
What would he do if she never returned? Would he seek her out, tear the keep apart to find her? Sorcha snorted. Not based on what she had heard at the door. He might care for her, yes, but only because she was carrying the heir that his first wife could not produce.
A thought seized Sorcha and she jerked on the reins, causing Iron to nearly buck her in response. Would he separate her from her child once it was born? Would he take the bairn for his own and then move on with his life, leaving her to be his wife in name only?
Would he take another to warm his bed?
The thought was terrifying to say the least. Sorcha knew that Liam was not a shrewd man nor was he cruel, but if he had already decided that he could never love her, then why keep her as his wife?
Shaking her head, she allowed Iron to trot along the uneven ground, lost in her thoughts. Nay, Liam was caring to his people and he would be caring toward her, even if he could not love her completely. He would not abandon her.
But she could not stand the fact that he might take another woman into his bed once he had his fill of his wife. Liam was her husband, her warrior, her light, and there was only room for one person in his bed.
Even if he was living with his wife’s ghost.
Sorcha shivered as the cold wind whipped around her, her cheeks growing cold to the touch even through her leather gloves.
Soon she would have to turn back and face what her life was to be.
Not only that, but she still needed to tell Liam that he was to be a father.
Now the prospect of doing so did not hold the same appeal as it had earlier in the week.
With Agnes’s help, she had planned to have his favorite meal delivered to him in the chamber, where they would sup together, and she would deliver the news.
Her thoughts of his reactions ranged from surprise to anger, but Sorcha knew that whatever he thought about her pregnancy, it was not going to matter much. She was still having his heir.
Unbeknownst to anyone, Sorcha had sought out the grave of Nelia and her son, finding it high on a hill facing the sunset. It was a lovely place for Liam to have buried the woman he loved.
Sorcha wiped the snow from the small cross, noting the carving on the wood as she did so.
It was peaceful where she was standing, the village and keep stretching out to her right.
“Well,” she said, her voice carrying in the wind, “’tis time for us tae meet, I suppose.
I dinnae know if Liam has told ye about me, but I have married yer husband. ”
Only the faint rustling of the wind past her ear was her only answer, and Sorcha chuckled. She was speaking to a grave, but it was necessary so that she could close this chapter in her life.
“I love him,” she continued, sinking into the snow.
“And I know ye did as well. Liam is a fine man and he has not stopped in his grief since the day ye left him.” Sorcha touched the cross with her fingers, tracing the name carved into the wood.
“I know he misses ye something dreadfully, Nelia. I wish he could have had yer happiness with him and that yer son would have survived.” She drew in a breath.
“I too am increasing with his bairn, and I feel as if I am torn on whether he will be pleased or not.” Had Nelia felt the same before she had told Liam?
Surely, even in their love for each other, there had been a question of if they were ready for children, just as she was questioning herself.
Sorcha felt the snow start to wet her knees through her layers of dress, but she did not move, wanting to say a few more words to the woman who had first held Liam’s heart, who had taught him how to laugh, how to love fiercely.
“Dinnae worry about him, Nelia. I am going tae take very good care of him. I hope that one day we can have the same sort of love that ye had for each other and that I might bring him a measure of happiness in his life. I dinnae wish tae take his memory away from him, but I do wish tae make it a mite easier tae breathe, tae live again. I know ye would want the same if ye genuinely cared for him the same as I do now.”
Sorcha did not stop there. She told Nelia about her upbringing and her way of meeting Liam, including the parts that had led to their wedding and wedding night.
She wanted no secrets with the woman who had given Liam his first taste at love and happiness, wanting her to know that her spirit could rest easy.
She had every intention of taking care of the man they both loved.
After a while, Sorcha rose from her perch, touching the cross once more. She would not come back to disturb this place, nor would she tell Liam of her meeting.
“I will care for him until the day I take mah last breath,” she whispered. “Rest easy, Nelia.”
Now Sorcha knew the truth, and Nelia was always going to hold a part of Liam that she would never.
Perhaps the most important part of him, at that.
Sorcha wiped the tears from her eyes and urged Iron forward, further away from the keep.
She wasn’t doing it to make people worry about her.
She just needed some time to sort through her newfound feelings and what she was going to do now that she knew the truth about where Liam’s heart lay.
Could she continue to love a man who did not love her in return?
The answer was difficult. Sorcha had no means to leave McCallum land, but if Liam was not going to be completely happy with her, then perhaps she should leave.
Or perhaps she should be happy with what she had and leave it at that. She had a home, a clan that seemed to accept her as their lady, and a husband that could grow to care for her as well. Why would she wish to give up the smallest amount of hope that one day he could love her as well?
One thing was for certain: she could love him enough for the both of them.
Sighing, Sorcha looked out over the moors, watching as the sky started to darken around her. Was there another storm on the horizon? It certainly was cold enough for it.
And by the looks of it, it would be upon her before she could make it back to the keep. Biting her lip, Sorcha turned Iron back the direction she came, finding that the keep was not in sight.
How far had she ridden? Before her stretched endless rolling fields, now barren from the winter weather and covered in snow. She could not even see Iron’s hoofprints in the snow drifts.
Alarmed, Sorcha felt a frisson of fear snake down her spine. If she could not find her way back, she would likely freeze to death before anyone found her.
And then she and her bairn would be dead.
“I wilnae allow it,” she whispered, gripping the reins tightly in her hands.
She would find her way back to the keep and to her husband, and the rest be damned.
After all, she had to be alive to be able to have a future with him, and if she could not find her way back, he would never know about the bairn or the fact that she loved him more than life itself.