Page 199 of Wicked Highland Heroes

“Because you were far away up north and I was too grief stricken to think clearly.”

Elizabeth nodded. “You could have told your grandfather to at least tell me where ye were. I would have written.”

“I was no’ allowed correspondence. Only my grandfather could communicate with me.”

Elizabeth dipped her head to take another sip of wine, but not before Rhoslyn caught the hurt in her friend’s eyes. “What would you have done?” Rhoslyn demanded. “Have ye any idea what is it like to lose a husband and a son in a fortnight?”

“Nay.”

“Then ye cannot judge me harshly.”

Wasn’t that what everyone was doing, judging her? Andreana, Duncan, Elizabeth, probably even her grandfather. He must believe if she hadn’t stayed away so long, she wouldn’t now be married to St. Claire.

“Forgive me,” Elizabeth said. “I didna’ mean it that way.”

Guilt rolled over Rhoslyn. She’d known Elizabeth her entire life. They’d seldom had more than a childish squabble. Elizabeth was one of the kindest women she knew.

“What of your new husband?” Elizabeth said. “I have yet to meet him.”

Rhoslyn shrugged. “He is English.”

“Is he terrible?”

Rhoslyn looked toward the head of the table, where St. Claire and Baxter sat in conversation. “See for yourself.” She nodded in his direction.

Elizabeth turned. “Sweet Jesu. He is very large and very...handsome.”

Frustration pricked. “So everyone keeps saying.”

Elizabeth’s attention returned to her. “Is he cruel?”

Rhoslyn barked a laugh. “Do ye call kidnapping cruel?”

“Are you speaking of his brother?” She laid a hand on Rhoslyn’s arm. “Did he harm you?”

“I am well,” she said too quickly.

It seemed as if Elizabeth would comment, but to Rhoslyn’s relief, she nodded.

“I must speak with my grandfather,” Rhoslyn said.

The hurt returned to Elizabeth’s eyes. “Mayhap we can talk tomorrow? I will be here for another week. ‘Tis fortunate I was here. I would no’ have known of your wedding celebration, otherwise.”

“I told St. Claire there was little time for anyone to attend, but he was determined to hold the celebration immediately.”

Elizabeth smiled. “Men do like to have their way.”

“Some more than others,” Rhoslyn muttered.

Elizabeth frowned. “What has he done, Rhoslyn?”

“Nothing.” And it was true. He’d done nothing—nothing terrible, that was. Aside from waylaying her when she’d fled the convent, he had been kind and even caring. She would rather he had been someone she could dislike. Someone like his brother, perhaps. A chill crept up her spine. Nay, not like Dayton. There was a difference in disliking a man and hating one.

“I must speak with my grandfather. It was good to see ye, Elizabeth.” Rhoslyn turned and pushed through the guests milling about the middle of the room. Her grandfather still stood where she’d last seen him. When she reached his side, he stopped talking and turned to her with a raised eyebrow.

She greeted his companions, then said to him, “Have ye a minute to speak with me?”

“Aye.” He nodded to the men and they left.