Page 10 of Falling for His Cousin’s Betrothed

“She’ll be back on the property in a few hours.” Lyall smoothed her skirt and clasped her hands. “She had to tend to a few matters at home.”

“And what are you doing with your evening?” asked Abigail, brushing a tress of hair away from her face. “I thought you would be out in the square for the farmers market.”

“I had to take care of a few tasks here. I just completed one of them, and now I’m ready to take care of another that involves your disobedient sister.”

“What?” Abigail’s eyes widened, and she took a seat on one of the high-back cherrywood chairs. “Something has gone awry?”

“Yes. Of course. When do matters not go awry when they involve Laila?” She shook her head, exasperated. “I just wrote a letter to her suitor, informing him of the need to cancel his marriage to her.”

“You did what?” Abigail stood up. “Isn’t that a bit extreme?”

“I find nothing extreme about it.” Lyall raised her brows and walked toward the kitchen. “In fact, I consider it the proper action based upon previous events.”

“I’m utterly confused. Laila is missing? And you contacted her suitor to cancel their marriage?”

“Yes. Abigail, I needn’t explain myself to you, for in truth, you are still a child yourself. You and Laila may think you are seasoned to this world, but you both have a lot to learn.”

“That’s all good and well, madam. But I disagree with your actions here and defend my sister. She often takes to the forest when she’s feeling somber or when she wants a breath of fresh air. Surely, this must be the present case.” Abigail lowered her gaze, recalling one particular evening when Laila left the castle and hiked all the way to the Awbury Cottages. It had been a cool evening, and the sky had darkened over the valley without so much as a moment’s warning. Abigail, concerned for Laila, had pleaded with her to come home soon, but Laila, stubborn as she could be at times, nevertheless went about on her travels, stopping to get a few sundries along the way. She returned home, unharmed, late in the evening, much to the disapproval of both her father and her stepmother. When she finally returned to the castle grounds, Abigail, who had been wrought with anxiety, breathed a much-needed sigh of relief.

“I have little time to ponder whether she is simply out on one of her gallant strolls. I personally do not believe this to be the case.” Lyall, self-assuredly, walked into the pantry, gathered a few wooden bowls, and set them on the table.

Abigail stared at her, unnerved. “You have clearly lost your mind.” Abigail, slack-jawed, shook her head in disbelief, then stormed out of the kitchen and into the foyer.

“You are certainly entitled to your opinion,” called Lyall as she turned to reach for two serving spoons. “But the moral of the story is that your sister’s wedding is off.”

“This is truly blasphemous,” muttered Abigail under her breath.

“And might I add,” called Lyall, following Abigail as she made her way to the door, “that I will no longer be held accountable for Laila’s protection now that she’s run off from the High Castle grounds.” Abigail stopped in her tracks.

“Protect her?” she asked, surprised. “And how is it that you ever protect her?” She placed her hands on her hips and frowned. Surely, Lyall couldn’t believe that she offered protection, other than for the fact that she was now the matriarch of the castle and, because of this one fact, would now excuse her whimsical nature for the way in which it was represented.

“Like I said, Abigail, there are some truths to this world that are not yet revealed. It is only a matter of time and fate that they do.” With that, she spun around on her heels, wooden spoons in hand, and marched right back to the kitchen.

“This is such a travesty.” Abigail stormed outside and into the night. She wished there was a way to get in touch with Laila. Could she call out to her across the dark, desolate valley? Send a smoke signal? Pray? She knew in her heart that Lyall was up to no good. She could feel it in her bones. And yet, there was nothing she could do to stop her from initiating any of her deeds.

“Dear sir, now that we are here together and you want to try and make it out of the thicket, will you at least let me take your hand?” Laila and the injured man were meanwhile, still in the forest. The wolf’s body lay unmoved and beneath the glow of the moonlight; only a faint outline of its head could be seen.

“Yes, dear lady.” The man extended his hand.

“Here. Let’s get one large push underneath you and try to make a small step toward the tree.” Laila, her eyes wide with anticipation, knew that with the right amount of coaxing, she could get the man to move. Generating some momentum right now was the key to their survival, and Laila knew they had to act quickly. With one wolf already on their trail, there was no telling if others lay on the periphery.

“Umph!” The man took one giant step at Laila’s urging, then stopped. He was tired and still in a copious amount of pain.

“That’s it! Keep going!” Laila smiled and waved him forward, but he was too exhausted to move.

“Arrgh!” He frowned, staggered into another footstep, then banged his fist onto the nearest tree, holding on to its thick trunk for support. “I don’t know…” He shook his head, his matted hair shaking with each turn. “I do not know why I am in this wood.” He was confused. Laila suspected a concussion but was no medical expert. How would she know if he had a head injury? She bit her lower lip and looked up at the sky, now dark with night.

“You were hurt, and you fell off your horse. That’s all you need to know.” Laila reached out for his arm as he steadied himself against the tree. “And I…” Laila moved toward him and looked deep into his eyes. “I am a healer. I have learned from many of the greats, and I will do whatever is in my power to help you.” The man grunted and closed his eyes. Right now, all he wanted was to sleep and to find a way out of his pain.

“I want rest,” he said after a long pause.

“I can help you. Let’s try and get you back on your horse, and we can make our way to another town.” Laila’s ambition was evident.

“No.”

“Why?” asked Laila, grabbing his hand.

“I can help you, and we can see a new part of the countryside.”

“I want rest, woman.” The man turned away.

“But we can rest on the other side of the hill.” Laila grew impatient. She wanted to be of assistance but felt like they were going to regret staying in one area for such a prolonged amount of time. She knew from experience that a rolling stone carried no moss, and while the man’s physical state was of the utmost importance, her own safety was also a concern. She couldn’t help but worry about Lyall and her conniving ways.

“Sleep must come first.” The man slid down the tree trunk and rested his head in his hands. Laila crawled next to him.

“I’ll get the blanket off your horse,” she said. “We can make our way out of the forest tomorrow.” The circling owl let out another hoot, and Laila tugged the blue woolen blanket out from beneath the horse’s saddle pad. She draped it over the man’s shoulders, knelt down beside him, and rested her head carefully on his shoulder. Within minutes, they were both fast asleep.