Chapter Nine The Other Woman
Chapter Nine
The Other Woman
Molly had been at the doorway when the laird had sprinted past her.
She ran into the main hall where Alice was curled up in her seat, trying to wipe her eyes.
Her lips still felt warm where his had been.
That made it worse, somehow. She kept replaying it, the way he had groaned into her mouth, and then his whole body had gone rigid.
Like something had gone desperately wrong.
Footsteps alerted Alice to Molly’s presence, and she tried to sit straight up and appear presentable.
Even as she did though, her breathing was ragged and uneven.
Molly raced over, taking out her handkerchief. She gently wiped Alice’s cheeks.
“M’ lady,” Molly said. “What happened? Are ye quite alright?”
“I-no,” Alice said, shaking her head.
“I thought everythin’ was ready,” Molly said softly, taking out a handkerchief and handing it to Alice. “Did ye lose yer nerve?”
“No,” Alice shook her head. She opened her mouth, but her voice did not obey her. She screwed her eyes shut, more tears leaking down her cheeks. Molly patiently wiped Alice’s cheeks, giving Alice a chance to recover.
“I kissed him, I thought it was going well,” Alice’s voice cracked. “But then he rushed away. He said he had some business to attend to…”
Molly frowned and looked out the window. The sun had set by now, the sky now a deep indigo, and the first few stars scattering through the skies.
“At this time o’ night?” Molly asked, wide-eyed. She looked back at Alice.
“It would seem so!” Alice laughed bitterly through her tears. More tears overtook Alice, and she whimpered. Molly melted slightly, holding Alice’s hands in her own.
“Oh, m’lady, please dinnae cry,” Molly whispered.
“What else am I supposed to do?” Alice asked through a sniffle. “He shouted at me to stay here. He rejected me. I do not know what I am meant to do when I fail so miserably.”
“I dinnae believe ye have failed,” Molly said gently. “Ye said ye kissed him, did ye nae?”
“I did,” Alice whispered. She swallowed hard as the memories of the heated kiss flickered at the edge of her imagination.
“That is further than before,” Molly said. “And did he kiss ye back?”
“He did,” Alice nodded.
“Then there be somethin’ ye can build from,” Molly said. “And do ye wish tae kiss him again?”
Alice opened and closed her mouth, flustered despite the tears drying on her cheeks.
“I do, but I do not want him to treat me poorly,” Alice replied.
“Good girl,” Molly nodded. “Then ye goin’ tae need tae chase after him again. And when ye see him, ye need tae tell him what ye just told me. And if he keeps threaten’ ye poorly? He ain’t worth ye tears. So. Where did he go?”
“I… I believe he ran out toward the stable.” Alice said, unsure.
“Well why are ye still here then?” Molly asked.
“What?” Alice asked.
“If ye want this tae happen, then ye need tae go after him,” Molly said, practically pulling Alice to her feet. “And if it really be business this late, then would the laird not need his wife at his side?”
“I…” Alice blinked in surprise. “He told me tae stay here…”
“Well… If he is not here, does he get to have a say in how ye act?” Molly asked with a grin. Alice blinked and then laughed weakly.
“I suppose you’re right,” Alice said gently.
“Ye ken I am. Are ye goin’ after him or nae then?”
Alice hesitated. Her mind went back to Evander’s almost angry expression, the way he had pushed her off, and the way he had stormed out.
And yet, her mind also replayed the way he had groaned against her lips and the way his fingers tangled into her hair.
Her cheeks flushed. Her hands twisted in her lap.
Surely I cannot just… Run after him into the night?
She bit her bottom lip… Then, she felt her nerves fortifying and she stood tall.
“Ye are right,” Alice said.
“Go, follow him. And dinnae allow him tae run away from ye!” Molly said as Alice began to run out toward the stables.
She skidded over the grass that was dampening in the night air. She hiked up her skirts in her hands, her knuckles turning white with how hard she was grasping the fabric.
I can’t let him go.
She dug her heels into the grass as she ran, leaving a trail of small imprints in the ground.
The late-night air was frigid, causing her breath to cloud in front of her.
Her eyes were desperately searching for the light of the stables.
The tears that had still been on her cheeks flew off her, and the trails froze on her cheeks.
There was no time for her to handle that though.
She stumbled into the lantern light of the stables.
In the yellow puddle of light, she could see the hoofprints of Calum.
Her heart slammed in her chest, causing her breath to catch in her throat.
That way. That road… It must lead toward the village. I do not know the roads well enough. I… I…
She swallowed hard and shook her head.
I can follow the hoofprints. I can do this. I have to do this.
She ran over to the mare she had claimed as her own, Peggy, saddling up as fast as she could.
Her hands trembled on the buckles as she fought the old leather.
She let out a frustrated sob. Before she could fight the saddle anymore, an old and leathery pair of hands came to join hers on the saddle.
She looked up at the owner of the hands.
The old stablemaster was working away on the buckles, helping her.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“Ye dinnae need tae thank me,” the man whispered. He helped her adjust the buckles until they were stable, and then helped her into the saddle. “He might be at Malk’s Hearth.”
“Where?” Alice asked.
“Tavern. End of the road. Near the entrance of the village. Cannae miss it,” the stablemaster gruffed.
“How… How did you know where he might be?” Alice asked. The stablemaster looked away awkwardly, shifting in place.
“I’ve ‘ad tae drag him outa there before,” he grumbled. “Before you.”
Her heart dropped, but she nodded.
“Thank you,” Alice whispered. The stablemaster nodded and walked away, giving her as much space as he could.
She tried to sit in side saddle as usual, but looking out at the indigo sky, she knew she wouldn’t catch up to Evander without pushing her horse hard.
“I have to find my husband,” she said, adjusting her seating, and flicking the reins.
The mare whinnied and raced off into the night.
Wind whipped around Alice, pulling some of the looser braids out of her hair, allowing it to flow freely behind her.
Her thighs began to ache as she was astride the horse.
She tried to blink, the wind stinging her eyes.
On the ground, she could barely see the tracks Evander had left. She squinted, pushing her horse harder.
I don’t understand him. One moment he’s kissing me like he needs me to breathe, and the next he panics and leaves.
She clung to the reins so hard that her knuckles went white.
Even if I can’t get what I wanted tonight, I will at least get an answer out of him!
She leaned forward with her horse, urging it to go on faster.
The path was winding, brambles catching at her skirts, and thin branches catching at the ends of her hair.
She ignored them all and pushed on. At one point, Peggy whinnied and nearly stumbled over.
Alice screamed and clung to Peggy’s neck.
The both of them stayed, panting on the edge of the road, their breath mingling together, fogging in the air.
“Alright,” Alice whispered. “Perhaps we need to go at a more steady pace.”
She leaned back into the saddle and had Peggy move at a trot instead of a canter.
Eventually, the lights of one of the small villages came into view. A tavern at the end that she had seen before but never entered caught her eye. At first, she thought it was just because of the bright lights and the laughter coming from inside.
She watched a few people laughing as they entered the tavern. Her eyes scanned over the people.
Then, she saw him.
Evander.
Alice slowed her horse to a stop and watched him for a moment.
What sort of business happens at a tavern?
Her horse trotted toward where she had seen Evander leaving his.
The two animals greeted each other with a gentle nuzzle as Alice clumsily tied the rope around a post. She looked into the tavern.
It was noisy, busy, and the smell of warm bodies and alcohol leached out even to the courtyard.
For a moment, she thought about leaving, about letting Evander handle whatever business had been so important that he had abandoned her.
What if he sends me away? What if he really does not want me here? What if this is because he never wanted this marriage at all or expected me to be different.
She wrapped her arms around herself, her eyes watering slightly. She tried to take a breath, but the cold air made her chest ache.
I… I should go. I should not be here. He told me to stay away. I do not know why but—
Her fingers twitched. She screwed her eyes shut and looked up at the door again. Someone bumped into her, saying something she didn’t hear, her eyes focused just on the door.
I need to pull on this thread…
Taking a steadying breath, she pushed into the tavern.
Her arms were wrapped tightly around her body as she tried to move through the mass of bodies. As she walked through, she caught groups watching her. Some of the men leaned together to whisper to each other, their eyes fixed on her. Some leered. Some of them smirked. Some just looked confused.
“Is that nae the laird’s wife?” she heard one murmur.
“Aye,” another laughed softly. “Looks like th’ little lamb be lookin’ for her master.”
The comment caused the men to laugh. Alice felt sick, but she pushed through them all, her eyes screwed shut. She could practically hear her mother scolding her for being in a place like this.
I need to find him…
Evander had settled into his usual seat, one he had not thought he would need after he was married. He gestured to the barkeep for a whisky, and the man readily agreed. Evander took a breath and closed his eyes.
Just a whisky, and then I’ll leave.
Even as he told himself this though, something warm settled into his lap.
He opened his eyes to find Sorcha in his lap.
She was a sweet-looking lass, her auburn hair braided back from her face, her green eyes fluttering up at him.
He knew her well. Many men in the area did, and she did well from it.
Sorcha always made sure she was paid well for her services, after all.
She’d been the one he came to before. When there was no wife waiting for him, no reason to hold anything back, and no reason to return to the keep before the sun rose.
“I dinnae think we would be seein’ ye here again,” she said, her breathy voice wrapping around Evander.
“I dinnae intend tae stay for long,” Evander grumbled.
“Really?” she asked, her hips grinding against his. “Ye’ve come tae ye usual spot, ye have taken a drink, and ye havenae pushed me off.”
“Ye have nae let me,” Evander said, attempting to sit up. Sorcha giggled.
“My bed is empty tonight, m’Laird. Would ye like tae fill it?” she said, leaning in to whisper in his ear.
“Sorcha—”
Before he could finish, she had moved, her lips on his.
She tasted of whisky and smelled like bluebells.
He told himself to stop. His mind was too late though.
By the time his mind knew what was happening, it was already done.
He tried to take his mind off Alice and what had almost happened at the keep.
But he couldn’t. Each time Sorcha’s lips moved against his, he found himself comparing her to Alice.
Sorcha didn’t fit against him like Alice did.
She didn’t feel like Alice.
She didn’t speak to him like Alice.
In a desperate attempt, he tried to tangle a hand into her hair like he had done to Alice, but his hand snagged on her braid.
“Ye mind is nae here, is it?” Sorcha asked against his lips.
He felt sick.
I cannae.
A sharp gasp pulled him back to his senses.
Alice.
She had walked in and seen Sorcha on his lap, she had seen the kiss. Her big blue eyes filled with tears, and her cheeks were burning with humiliation.
“Evander?” she whispered.
The color drained from his face. How was he even meant to respond?