Page 36 of The Wolf Laird's Obsession
Her gaze dropped to the unfinished turtle, the thought settling deep in her gut. She looked at the door again, listening for footsteps. But she only heard silence.
She sighed, looking back at the wood and continuing to carve.
He will come. He said he would.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Sorcha walked beside Flora to the Great Hall in silence, but her mind was anything but. Her fingers tightened around the small carving in her palm, the wooden edges pressing faintly into her skin.
“Ye shouldnae take his absence to heart. Maybe somethin’ important came up,” Flora said gently, offering a small, knowing smile.
Sorcha huffed in disagreement, shaking her head.
I ken where I stand.
She barely kept herself from voicing that thought, exhaustion overtaking her senses.
She had not slept at all last night. Every small sound in the dark had pulled her upright, her breath catching at shadows that never became him. It was only when the morning light creptin through her window that she fully accepted Rowan was not coming for her.
Heat surged through her chest, sharp and searing.
If he thinks to toy with me?—
“Are ye goin to say anythin’ to him?” Flora’s voice interrupted her thoughts, warm against her cold fury.
Sorcha had played many scenarios in her head. Most of them included her yelling at Rowan, her heart laid bare. But she knew that was impossible, even if he deserved it.
“I daenae ken,” she replied honestly. “But I cannae say nothin’.”
“Aye,” Flora agreed with a sigh. “I wonder what is wrong with him.”
Sorcha had many answers to that question, but before she could speak, the doors to the Great Hall came into view. Warmth spread through her body, her pulse quickening.
All morning, she had been prepared to face him. To question him. And yet as she drew nearer, she found that all the words she had rehearsed were slipping away.
The doors opened, and her heart leaped. But instead of Rowan’s brooding gaze, she was met with a cheerful smile.
“Lady Sorcha! Flora! Good mornin’!” Elspeth greeted them as they entered. Morag greeted them as well, bowing her head slightly.
They were seated at one side of a long table, with an empty chair at the end of it where Rowan should have been. A heaviness settled in Sorcha’s gut as she approached and took a seat across from them.
Why am I disappointed?
Flora gave her a sympathetic smile before turning to Elspeth and bobbing a curtsy. “Good mornin’, Lady Elspeth. Morag.” She took a step back, bowing to Sorcha. “I have to attend to a few things, me Lady, but I will come find ye in the afternoon.”
Sorcha nodded absently as Flora stepped away, her attention already drawn to Elspeth, who was feeding Mr. Turtle a leafy vegetable.
“Good mornin’,” she greeted, “It seems Mr. Turtle is enjoyin’ his breakfast.”
“He was hungry!” Elspeth said, tilting her head and smiling at the turtle. The sunlight streaming in through the high windows caught the soft gleam in her eyes.
Sorcha could not help smiling as well; Elspeth’s brightness easily overtook the darkness in her heart.
She flexed her fingers around the carved piece in her palm. “I have somethin’ for ye.”
Elspeth’s eyes snapped to her, widening slightly. “For me?”
Sorcha held out her hand, uncurling it slowly. The small wooden turtle she had finished carving last night rested there. Its shape was simple but carefully made with a thin piece of cord running through it. The grain of the wood was warm under the glow of the morning light.
