The Devil of Helburn by the Sea by Rebecca Ruger

Author:Rebecca Ruger [Ruger, Rebecca]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Rebecca Ruger
Published: 2024-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

The two armies departed Byres House three days after the wedding. Julia learned that the Earl of Airth, though diminutive in stature and nature by her reckoning, was the voice and mind behind the decision. Apparently he outranked the MacFayden laird and of course, Sir Reginald had no say in the matter though he did make his frustration known, that the newly wedded couple had so little time to properly acquaint themselves with each other.

Despite a night spent together in heretofore unimagined intimacy, Julia wasn’t under any illusion that she knew the inner workings of Caelen’s mind. And yet, her constant if surreptitious study of him revealed several things in the days following his nuptials. The same strained expression he wore on his wedding day stayed with him the day after and the next. Yet, on the day of departure, while the de Lindsay household gathered in the yard to send off the MacFayden laird and his army and while Julia watched mutely, lost in a crowd of well-wishes and whiners—the latter being Marjorie and Aunt Beatrix—Caelen’s mien was decidedly less gloomy. Julia had no choice but to imagine the idea of going off to war suited the northern laird far better than any notion of remaining and advancing his relationship with his bride.

It pained her to watch Caelen give his farewell to Marjorie, even as Julia believed his darkest scowl came at that moment, when he was obliged to kiss Marjorie, who then clung to him, wailing as if he were made dead by war already. Caelen had been compelled to wrench Marjorie’s hands from around his neck, while his mouth was tight, though Julia couldn’t say if he found public displays unpleasant or merely his bride.

Naturally, he had not given any singular farewell to Julia, which would have been both unseemly and astonishing. Despite what they’d shared, that which he recalled and all the glory that he did not, Julia understood she should have no expectations about any sort of kinship or connection with him. Still, her heart had not heeded her mind and hope fluttered in a feathery fashion so that she knew some disappointment when his last look upon her could at best be categorized as thoughtful and stoic but not much more. He’d mounted his massive destrier, as impressive as he ever was in the saddle, a commanding figure radiating power and ease, and had glanced around the yard one last time as the dozens of mounted men around him began to exit through the slim opening of the gate. To this day, Julia would never believe in those few seconds that Caelen hadn’t been specifically searching for her face in the crowd, but then his abbreviated glance and bare nod of acknowledgement might have only been a figment of her imagination. She was nearly devastated that she couldn’t be sure, and she wondered often if she hadn’t simply imagined that his fleeting parting glance had been meant exclusively for her.

And then he was gone.

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