Page 53 of Laird of Wrath

The longer she stared at her, though, the more she noticed the differences, subtle as they were. No matter how much Rhea hated to admit it, her sister had changed during their time apart.

For one, Mabel looked a little older, a little more mature. Gone was the baby fat that had once plumped her cheeks. Now, more than ever, she resembled their mother, at least as far as Rhea remembered her.

She looked more like a woman than a girl, and Rhea had difficulty coming to terms with that.

“Did Father nae come?” Rhea asked, craning her neck to glance into the empty carriage. “In yer letter, ye said he might.”

“He wanted to,” Mabel said. “But he’s too weak, Rhea. He’s still so very ill.”

Rhea couldn’t help the pang of guilt that pierced through her. Though her father had been the one to send her to Callum, she had spent most of her life feeling responsible for him after her mother’s death. Without her there, there was no telling how well he took care of himself, and Mabel was too young to carry that burden on her own.

But who else could do it? Mabel was the only one who could take care of him now. After all, she wasn’t so young anymore, certainly not younger than Rhea had been when she assumed the duty.

“It’s for the best, then,” Rhea sighed. “Better that he rests and recovers.”

It was then that Lara finally caught up to her, panting. She bent over, bracing her hands on her knees as she tried to catch her breath.

Rhea turned to look at her with a small frown.

“Forgive me, me Lady,” Lara panted, waving a hand in front of her. “I was… held up… I didnae think I’d lose… sight of ye.”

Rhea chuckled softly. “That’s quite all right, Lara. Ye didnae have to run.”

“Ach, it’s… nae problem,” Lara said, finally drawing in a long, steadying breath and straightening. When her gaze met Mabel’s, she turned a bright shade of red and quickly bobbed a curtsy, unsteady on her legs. “Ye must be Lady Mabel. Welcome.”

“Mabel, this is Miss Lara Hart,” Rhea introduced. “She is me lady’s maid. Lara, this is me dear sister, Mabel.”

“It’s very nice to meet ye, Miss Hart,” Mabel said.

Lara turned an even brighter shade of red. “Ach, ye daenae have to call me that.” She waved a hand dismissively. “Everyone calls me Lara.”

“Lara has never been one for formalities,” Rhea explained as she looped her arm around Mabel’s and began to lead her into the castle. “In fact, ye may find people are far less formal here than they are back home.”

“Is that so?” Mabel asked, sounding amused. “Wait until they meet aSassenach, then.”

Rhea laughed softly, shaking her head. “Let us hope they daenae have to.”

As they walked into the castle, Mabel looked around, taking in her new surroundings. Rhea watched her, wondering what was going on in her head.

She didn’t have to wonder for long.

“Ach, Rhea, it’s lovely here,” Mabel breathed.

Rhea had no doubt in her mind that her sister was being sincere. Mabel couldn’t lie to save her life, nor would she ever feel the need to, so Rhea knew that whatever she said was truthful.

“After everythin’ I heard about the place, I thought ye would be terribly sad here.”

“Sad?” Rhea echoed, surprised. “Why would I be sad?”

But before Mabel could respond, the truth pierced viciously through her.

The fact was that she had been quite unhappy there for a long time. Ever since her wedding and before Callum had returned, she had tried to find a little joy in everyday moments—in Lara, in Sienna, in the friends she had made there, in the people who had come to trust her as their Lady. She had been alone, left to fend for herself and for another young woman. She had had no one to turn to, no one to whom she could open up about all the struggles she had to face. She never wanted to burden Sienna with it all. She didn’t even want to burden Lara with it.

But I’m nae unhappy now. Quite far from it, in fact.

It was a sudden and new thought, one that hadn’t occurred to her before. She had never stopped to ask herself whether she was happy or not. She had never had the time for such things.

“I daenae ken,” Mabel said with a small shrug. “People say a lot of silly things.”