Bypassing all the swaths of fabric, Emilie reached toward the back of the armoire. She knew exactly where what she was looking for was lying.
The white novice’s habit was folded neatly at the bottom of the armoire, resting in the farthest corner exactly where she had left it.
Emilie had felt silly when she had brought it here. But the sight of it had brought her comfort in those early days. And now, it appeared, it would come in handy.
The habit was the only thing that Emilie grabbed, holding it tight to her chest as she turned and walked from their room.
Other than the habit and the clothing on her back, Emilie would be bringing nothing back to the abbey with her. It wouldn’t do her any good there.
Plus, she didn’t want the physical reminders of everything that she had left behind.
Stopping at the door, Emilie turned one final time to let her eyes rake over the room. They lingered on the bed, imagining all the nights that she had spent in it, sleeping side by side with Archer.
So many squandered moments. So many times when she could have rolled over and touched him, she had been afraid to do so.
She was regretting it now. And Emilie couldn’t help but wonder if things would be different if she had seized those moments.
“I cannae think of that now,” she whispered to herself, forcing herself to turn her back on the room.
She walked down the corridor, the sound of her boots echoing off the stone floor. Each footstep sounded like the chime of a clock, counting down the final moments in Castle McGregor.
Counting down the final moments in what had become her home.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
“Ye’re makin’ a mistake,” Marcus hissed, but Archer refused to listen to him.
He walked around the carriage once more, ensuring that the straps that secured the massive thing to the horse were sturdy. He’d checked them three times already, and each time he’d not found anything wrong with them.
Archer knew he should get inside. He didn’t want to be here when Emilie came out. He didn’t think he could bear to see her leave, as much as he knew it was the right thing to do.
“What about all the things ye’ve been talkin’ about?” Marcus continued badgering Archer, following after him as he went round and round the carriage. “What about the way ye look at her? Or the way she looks at ye? What about…”
“Enough,” Archer hissed, finally whirling to face his cousin. “I willnae be hearin’ anythin’ else about this, Marcus. Me mind ismade up. She’s been tryin’ to get me to annul the marriage the entire time she’s been here. I’m just givin’ the lass what she wants.”
Immediately, Marcus began to shake his head.
“I daenae believe that,” he said stubbornly. “I’ve seen the two of ye together. And I’ve seen her with the bairns. There is nay way that she’d want to leave all that behind.”
“Well, believe it,” Archer growled.
He couldn’t rationalize checking the straps to the carriage another time. So, he turned and began walking back toward the castle.
“How do ye ken?” Marcus called after him.
The sound of boots on gravel filled the air, and a moment later, a hand landed on Archer’s shoulder, forcing him to turn.
Marcus was standing behind him, glaring at him with hard eyes.
“How do ye ken?” he repeated, staring at Archer and imploring him to speak.
Archer shook his head. “Ye remember me tellin’ ye all about her bein’ daft, how she told me that she was tryin’ to teach a chicken to whistle?”
Marcus took a step back, blinking at Archer for a moment before finally nodding.
“I remember,” he admitted. “But what does that have to do with anythin’?”
“She was tryin’ to annoy me,” Archer explained gruffly. “She thought that if she made me believe she was daft, if she made me believe she was too foolish to be trusted with me bairns, that I would annul the marriage.”