Page 71 of Bound to Her Highland Lord
“Aye. That is how Dudley found me out,” Laura said before she could stop herself.
The words had slipped out of her mouth without realizing what she was saying. Regret surged through her as pain flashed across Taryn’s face.
“I am happy for ye,” Laura told her quickly, trying to cover up her blunder by a change in conversation. “Happy for both of ye.”
She nodded towards James’ retreating figure with a forced smile. Of course, she had always known about Taryn’s feelings for James. It had surprised her for only a moment to find that James returned them, even all these years later.
“Thank ye, Laura,” Taryn said softly. “I never imagined that our dream of becoming sisters would eventually come true. It gives me peace that ye are pleased.”
Silence grew between them again, heavy with all the things left unsaid. It was Taryn who broke it again.
“I doubt ye have had a chance to hear the tale of how we came to be together, or how so many McGregors have joined the Kincaid Clan. It is a story I should like to share with ye soon. But I need ye to ken, I had no idea.”
Laura’s chest grew heavy, her body hot as tears swelled. Taryn slid down the bench until she was less than two inches away. Without hesitation, Taryn gathered Laura’s calloused and rough hands in her own and held them to her chest.
“Had I kent that Dudley had taken ye, I would have returned that verra instant. I was so focused on surviving, on staying hidden from him, that I never sought word—either of Dudleyor of the happenings in the McGregor clan. It was too painful, leaving ye and James behind, so I did my best to put it from my mind. I went back, Laura. As soon as James found me and told me what Dudley had done to ye, I went back to my uncle to give myself up. To trade myself for yer freedom.”
Tears, hot and burdened, streamed down Taryn’s face. One look at her childhood friend and Laura too was shedding her own tears.
“I-I am so verra sorry,” Taryn stammered, fighting to control her emotions. “I will never forgive myself kenning that ye suffered as ye did for me. I am so so sorry.”
On instinct, Laura threw her arms around Taryn and held her close. The two girls cried until their tears had dried and some chasm in Laura’s chest had shrunk.
“I would have done exactly the same thing over again, given the choice,” Laura whispered. “I would have done anything for ye. For that is what sisters do.”
“Och,” Taryn breathed. “I was nae there when ye needed me most. I did nae come for ye sooner. Can ye ever forgive me?”
“There is nothing to forgive,” Laura promised, pulling back. “It is all in the past. Dudley is gone. We need nae think of it ever again. Besides, it was nae all bad.”
Not for the first time that evening, Laura’s eyes glazed over as thoughts of Brandon poured into her mind. She pictured him, standing in the moonlit stables, sending her off. Her hands reached for his gloves that she had shoved into her pocket. He had risked everything for her to escape. And now that she was here, safe, she couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to him.
Had Dudley uncovered Brandon’s betrayal? Had Brandon managed to escape himself? Would she ever see him again?
The questions swirled round and round in her head. Every time his face drifted into her thoughts, she sent up a silentprayer of protection for him, that he would find his way to her. All she knew was that she missed him—desperately.
EPILOGUE
“Are ye crying already? Ye cannae do that. The wedding has nae even started yet.”
Sorcha’s chastisement did nothing to slow Taryn’s tears. Even Aila looked a little weepy.
“What are they crying about, Aunt Sorcha?” Elsie asked, her eyes glued to the mirror.
“I have nay idea,” Sorcha answered, admiring the girl’s reflection.
Aila had been working on combing and braiding Elsie’s hair into a pretty plait that complimented the little ringlets. She had then tucked in a crown of heather that matched the flowers Elsie would toss down the aisle before Sorcha walked down it.
“Ye both are just so bonny,” Aila explained, sniffling.
“I never thought the day would come when we were all as happy as we are,” Taryn said, having finally dried her eyes enough to put the finishing touches on Sorcha’s hair.
Oliver had requested she wore it loose, wanting to see her red curls about her shoulders. His mother had given her several pins encrusted with diamonds that when Taryn used them to pull back just a few pieces out of her face, it made Sorcha’s hair look like there were little dew drops nestled in her mane.
“We were all so, so?—”
“Wild?” Sorcha finished for her.
“Aye. Wild. And too busy running from our pasts to ever contemplate a future. Yet here we are. Sorcha, about to become a marchioness. Aila, a lady of her own castle. All of us, loved by good men. All of us, safe and content with the life we have built.” Tears welled again, making her dazzling blue eyes glitter. “Och, ‘tis a verra good day. And ye really to make the most bonny bride.”
