Page 54 of The Wolf Laird's Obsession
Sorcha reached out to tap Elspeth’s necklace. The carved turtle bobbed gently against the fabric of her dress. “And what does Mr. Turtle teach us?”
Elspeth groaned dramatically. “That slow is good.”
“And…?”
“Patience,” she muttered.
Sorcha nodded. “If the earth is kind and the season is gentle, flowers follow in their own time.”
“Grow faster, Mr. Plant!”
Sorcha laughed softly. “Most things worth having take time.”
Her breath caught, short and unsteady, as she realized what she had just said.
“Are ye alright, Lady Sorcha? Are ye sick? Ye’re turnin’ red!”
Sorcha looked down quickly to hide her flush, patting the soil around an herb she’d already finished planting. “Aye, the sun is hot.”
Elspeth looked at her strangely. “But the clouds are coverin’ it.”
Sorcha burst out laughing. “Aye, ye’re right.”
Elspeth frowned in confusion, but was distracted easily as a butterfly landed on one of her plants. She let out a dramatic sigh. “I hate waitin’.”
Sorcha looked up at the sky, closing her eyes as a breeze ruffled her hair.
“Aye,” she murmured. “Most people do.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Rowan did not ride back to the keep so much as drag the road behind him. The pouring rain had not let up as he rode home, his cloak heavy and damp, mud clinging to his skin.
His arms burned from hauling timber with the men. The ache was only driven deeper into his bones while riding home, each mile grinding exhaustion further into his muscles.
But at least the worst of the damage had been contained at the eastern border.
For now.
As the keep came into view, he could not stop his thoughts from going straight to Sorcha. He wondered how she was faring alone.
I should speak to her.
The thought came reluctantly.
He had faced battles with less hesitation, and yet the thought of standing alone in a room with Sorcha again stirred a feeling in his chest that he couldn’t name.
She is yer wife. Speak to her and be done with it.
Coward was not a word he would ever use to describe himself, but it crossed his mind these days.
He exhaled sharply, dismissing his thoughts.
As he rode on, he saw how the storm had left its mark here as well. Sections of the outer fence had collapsed, and men were already hauling new posts in place beside the gate. He slowed his horse as he passed them.
The men nodded in greeting.
“How fares the eastern border?” one of them called.
