The Highlander's Destiny (Highland Rogues #2) - Mary Wine Page 0,31
certainly wouldn’t want to linger in a place where she was greeted so coldly. In fact, she doubted Faolan would even have stayed for the night if he wasn’t mindful of the fact that his captain, Gainor, needed to rest.
Cora felt another emotion gripping her. Just like an icy hand closed around her heart. She felt abandoned, left behind, and tears actually burned her eyes.
Tears?
She sat down, completely absorbed in the idea of knowing Faolan affected her so deeply. Her temper started to flare, but she snuffed out the flame. There was something more important to think about than her pride.
Her brother.
Aye, that was what she needed to contemplate. Buchanan hadn’t insisted on sending her to her groom. He’d given her time and freedom. Cora knew the reason why.
Her brother loved his wife.
Against all odds, he’d found love with a woman Fate and circumstance had attempted to separate him from. All of the lectures from her childhood couldn’t hold up to the fact that Cora had seen the way Buchanan looked at his wife.
Love was real.
Are ye suggesting ye love Faolan?
The question stirred up a memory of the way Faolan had carried her over his shoulder.
He could not be the man for her.
She shook her head and stood. What she needed to do was think of the encounter as confirmation of the fact that there was nothing wrong with her. All of the frustration she’d been battling before leaving the Mackenzie stronghold had a purpose. To help ensure she didn’t end up in a marriage that would strangle her.
So ye will go home and never see Faolan again?
That icy feeling was back. This time it was harder to shake off. Cora had walked toward the bed, but by the time she made it there, getting into it felt like a task she just couldn’t force herself to perform.
She let out a little hiss before she turned around and marched toward the door. A glass of warm milk would settle her down. A stronghold the size of the McKay one would have enough milk to last throughout the day.
“Ye are far too impulsive, Cora.”
She yelped.
It was an instant reaction to the way Faolan’s voice came from the darkness just outside the door to her chamber. The landing wasn’t very large, but the end of it was dark. The McKay chief materialized, walking forward on those silent steps of his until the light from behind her illuminated him.
“Christ’s wounds!” Cora exclaimed. “What are ye doing here, Faolan McKay?”
“A better question is, where are ye heading at this late hour?”
The chilly reception Faolan had received from Laird McKay hadn’t affected his confidence. His tone was edged with authority just as it always had been.
“Why are ye here?” she demanded again.
Faolan’s jaw tightened. He wasn’t precisely given to keeping his face in a pleasant expression, but she still noted the way his eyes narrowed with irritation.
“You,” he pointed at her, “have a persistent habit of going belowstairs after dark even though I have warned ye against it more than once. ’Tis the truth, I’m thinking of riding down to Mackenzie land just to have a bit of a discussion with yer brother over how lax his upbringing was of ye. Why he’s allowed ye to ride out with his Retainers is something I cannae understand.”
“Me brother wanted to grant me the chance to meet Rolfe Munro,” Cora said. “It was an act of compassion, to no’ force me to wed a man who has no’ even sent me a single letter in spite of the betrothal binding us together for more than a decade.”
Faolan tilted his head slightly to the side. He appeared to bite back whatever it was he’d been intent on saying. Cora felt her cheeks heat.
“Well, now ye know the truth of the matter,” she mumbled, uncertain as to just why she was sharing such personal details. “Me brother is kind to me.”
“Kindness is no’ always the wisest path, lass,” Faolan remarked. But there was a hint of relenting in his tone.
More like pity…
Cora lifted her chin. “And ye think I am so muddled headed as to not understand the ways of the world?” Cora inquired. “I assure ye, Faolan McKay, I do, and I’ll face them without a quibble.”
Faolan wasn’t put off by her tone. She was being harsh at best, shrewish at worst.
But at least ye are not whimpering…
“If ye truly understood, Cora, lass.” Faolan stepped closer. “Ye would have made certain the bar was secure across the door,