Chapter 3
3
T homas froze. His heart pounded as the revelation crashed over him like a wave. The fierce woman before him, with her fiery spirit and defiant gaze, had been driven to desperation—not for herself, but for the small child.
Admiration swelled within him. It wasn’t out of selfishness that Astrid did what she did, but utter loyalty, and that was a cause he understood all too well. The urgency in the child’s eyes, the way Astrid’s body seemed to tense up… it all made sense now. The reason for her eagerness to be punished, her readiness to face whatever he might throw at her, because of her need to return to her daughter.
A flurry of questions bombarded his mind, each one more pressing than the last.
Was she married? Who did the child belong to? Where was the father? Was this their home? Why hadn’t she told him the truth from the beginning? Surely he would have understood her plight… wouldn’t he?
Thomas straightened his back, shoving the guilt off him as quickly as it came.
“And the faither?” he blurted, his eyes fixed on the child. She was so small, so fragile, and so terrified. Her red, teary eyes would haunt his dreams.
His expectant gaze turned to Astrid. Her expression darkened, her eyes flashing with hatred.
“The faither is dead,” she hissed.
Her words struck him like a whip. The fire in her piqued his curiosity.
“Dead?” Thomas echoed.
There was more to the story—he could sense it in his bones. The feisty minx before him had layers he was eager to peel back to understand the depth of her pain and resilience. After all, not every woman dared to jump out of a window to escape him.
And if he was being completely honest, he enjoyed the hunt. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d come across such an adversary. She was clever and, like him, used what assets she had to her advantage. Perhaps she could be a valuable asset to his clan.
He watched as she instinctively hid her daughter behind her—a protective gesture that made him chuckle darkly to himself. She had strong instincts to consider him a threat. He found himself both amused and impressed. Few could see past his imposing exterior to the man he truly was.
“Ye spoke of things ye had to get. Is this all ye wish to collect?” he asked, much to her shock. “If ye think ye’ll avoid punishment just because of the wee one, ye’re sorely mistaken. Now, collect yer things. I dinnae wish to be here any longer than I need to be.”
“What is he talkin’ about, Ma?” Melody whimpered as she tugged on Astrid’s skirt.
Astrid turned and knelt beside her. “Laird McFair wants us to go wit’ him,” she explained as she cast a glance at Thomas.
“But why?” Melody pressed.
“Do ye wish to stay here in the filth?” Astrid asked.
Melody shook her head.
“I didnae think so. He wants to take us to his castle. Can ye believe it?”
“Are ye tellin’ the truth? Is that really where ye’re takin’ us? Nae to the dungeons, but to the actual castle?” Melody asked.
Thomas couldn’t but note how clever the child was—clearly an inherited trait.
“Yer ma will be helpin’ me faither,” he explained. “And in return, ye’ll be safe and well cared for. Does that sound like a fair and proper arrangement to ye?”
Melody studied him for a moment. Her big brown eyes enchanted him, as they seemed to have the power to see into the depths of his soul.
How could such a small thing captivate him? Thomas couldn’t help but notice how calculated she was. She wasn’t like the other children in the village. There was a spark in her eyes that made her seem wise beyond her years.
His heart stopped for a moment. A single memory of his father bestowing the same honor on him as a child flashed through his mind.
There was no denying that there was something about the girl that reminded Thomas of himself at that tender age.
“Well?” he prompted, watching her like a hawk.
She furrowed her brow and opened her mouth—perhaps to argue—but Thomas could see the wheels turning in her head. The spark in her eyes dimmed slightly, replaced by a flicker of hope. She was weighing her options, and he could feel the shift in the air, the fragile thread of trust beginning to form between them.
“Aye,” Melody answered, her face bright and joyful. “We should go.”
“Are ye sure?” Astrid asked as she studied her for a moment.
Melody leaned close to Astrid’s ear.
As much as Thomas wished to know what secrets were being shared, he remained still and watched. Melody’s eyes flicked to him every so often, making it obvious who they were talking about.
Thomas didn’t mind. He found the scene endearing, especially given the child’s bravery. She didn’t cower at the sight of him. Instead, she held her ground.
“Very well, if ye’re sure that’s what ye want.”
Thomas followed closely behind them. He listened as Astrid painted a vivid picture of what their life in the castle would be like. It surprised him how well she understood the inner workings of a castle.
More questions formed in his mind. Where had she come from? How did she know how to get here? Was she the daughter of a laird? How much could he trust her?
“Ye seem to be rather familiar wit’ castle life. Have ye run one before?” Thomas asked, interrupting their chatter.
Astrid gave a little shrug. “Nay, Me Laird. I’ve never run one,” she answered. “Me sister came close to runnin’ a large estate once. I saw how it was done.”
“And how long ago was that?” Thomas inquired as he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. He placed his hand on his dirk instinctively as he listened to her.
“A while ago—maybe a year,” Astrid answered.
As they made their way along the rugged path to the castle, Thomas felt the air grow thicker with the promise of rain. There was an ominous shift in the atmosphere.
“Silence,” he hissed as he closed the distance between them.
“Why? What’s goin’ on?” Astrid asked as several men jumped out of the shrubs, their blades drawn, malicious grins plastered on their faces.
“Fancy seein’ ye here,” one of the men said as his attention shifted right to her.
There was no questioning Astrid’s beauty, with her blond locks and enchanting cat-like features. She was stunning and a grand prize for any man.
“McFair, take Melody with ye,” Astrid said through clenched teeth. “Dinnae look back. Just go.”
“Well now, there’s a smart lass,” another man drawled as he picked his teeth with the tip of his blade. His beady eyes roved over her and the innocent child clinging to her leg.
A dark fire ignited within Thomas, and he stepped forward. “Ye think these lads can best me?”
Before he could utter another word, Astrid’s expression shifted. In a swift motion, she lifted her skirt, revealing a tantalizing, milky thigh.
The sight was enough to send a bolt of heat through Thomas. But he didn’t have time to linger on such thoughts, not when she had unsheathed a dagger and hurled it at the leader of the bandits. Her blade struck him with precision.
Thomas’s eyes widened as he drew his dirk and sword, ready for the attack. Astrid had made the first move, but he would be the one to make the last.
“Ye wish to meet yer maker? Then come at me,” he growled.
Before his threat could fully sink in, he charged forward, his instincts honed by years of hardship and survival. The fight was almost too easy as he dispatched the men with calculated, swift movements. His anger fueled him. Each strike was a silent vow to protect his charges.
As one man fell and another escaped into the night, silence fell over them. Thomas moved to the slain man and knelt beside him, searching his pockets. He could feel Astrid’d eyes on him. Uncertain whether he was ready to see the disappointment on her face, he stalled.
“Are ye all right?” she asked.
A smirk tugged at his lips as he rose to his feet, as if he knew she’d ask him that question.
“Aye,” he answered as he turned around, only for shame to wash over him.
Astrid’s question wasn’t directed at him but at Melody. The child’s eyes were wide with horror. He watched as Astrid pulled her into her arms and cradled her to her bosom.
“Hush now, the castle isnae that much farther. And thanks to the Laird, we’re safe,” Astrid cooed as she put Melody down. “Close yer eyes, me love.”
Thomas watched as Melody closed her eyes.
Astrid planted a kiss on her head and then turned to retrieve her dagger. She didn’t glance at Thomas or acknowledge him. It was almost as if she didn’t see what he had done for her.
“I’m sorry,” she said, breaking the silence.
“Are ye talkin’ to me now?” Thomas asked, his body still coiled tight.
Astrid wiped her dagger with the hem of her skirt as she walked over to him. She was a sight to behold, with her wild locks and steely eyes. It was as if she were the warrior goddess Artemis in the flesh.
Images that taunted, teased, and tormented him flashed through his mind. She was a fierce protector.
“We shouldnae linger,” Thomas added.
As they continued along the path, he couldn’t help but steal glances at Astrid. There was clearly more to her than met the eye, and he found himself enchanted by her.
The doors of McFair Castle moaned as Thomas pushed them open. He pulled in a long, deep breath. The scent of smoked meat and ale permeated the entrance hall. Warm air swirled around them, chasing away the chill of the evening.
“What is goin’ on? Who dares to barge into the castle at such an hour?”
Thomas rolled his eyes at the sound of his sister’s voice. He shook his head and made for the stairs as she rushed down toward him.
“Thomas? Who is this? What is goin’ on?” she asked, her eyes lingering on Astrid.
“See that they take one of the available rooms in the west wing,” Thomas instructed as he started up the steps. “This is Astrid and Melody. They’ll be stayin’ wit’ us for a spell.”
Olivia didn’t ask any questions—a quality that Thomas appreciated deeply.
Without missing a beat, she reached her hand out to Melody. “Ye must be hungry. Would ye like to come to the kitchen wit’ me? I’m sure I can find ye something to eat,” she said in a sing-song voice.
Thomas watched Astrid.
After a long pause, she gave a sharp nod. “We’ll be safe here,” she reassured her daughter. “Ye need nae worry.”
“Aye, ye have me word, wee one,” Thomas interjected as his gaze flicked to Olivia, before returning to Astrid. “Go wit’ me sister. She’ll take good care of ye. Astrid, I’d like a word.”
Astrid exhaled and nodded reluctantly, the tension in her shoulders easing ever so slightly.
As she fell into step beside him, he felt a surge of determination. While he didn’t know what had happened to put them in such a situation, he was determined not to let any further harm come to them. Not when they had finally found sanctuary within the formidable walls of McFair Castle.
Thomas stole glances at Astrid. Her beauty was far more striking in the soft glow of the torches. She stirred something within him.
Reaching his study, he walked inside, Astrid hot on his heels.
“Would ye like something to drink?” he offered.
“Are ye tryin’ to get me tipsy?”
“Nay,” Thomas answered honestly. “Just tryin’ to ease the tension in yer shoulders. I ken ye have nay reason to believe me, but yer daughter is safe here. Olivia will keep her entertained. She’s good wit’ the little ones.”
“I ken how the world works,” Astrid said as he poured her a dram.
“Aye, I’m sure ye do,” he answered as he handed her the glass. “I wasnae questionin’ that. But I want to ken why ye’re here. Who are ye, really, Astrid?”