Chapter 7
“Well, well, well.”
Elijah looked up from the contract he’d been staring at, unseeing, for the past ten minutes to find Declan Bell leaning against the doorframe of his study. His man-at-arms wore a grin that put Elijah on edge.
“What do ye want, Declan?”
“Just came to welcome ye back, me laird.” Declan pushed off the doorframe and sauntered into the room, his grin widening. “And to get a look at the lass ye brought home.”
“She’s the new governess.”
“Aye, so I heard. The whole castle’s buzzin’ about it.
” Declan dropped into the chair Piper had vacated, stretching his legs out in front of him.
“Curvy thing, isn’t she? Bonnie too. And that fire in her eyes, I saw it when yer maither was draggin’ her past the great hall. That’s a lass with spirit.”
Elijah’s jaw tightened. “Watch yer mouth, Declan.”
“What? I’m just observin’.” Declan’s eyes gleamed with mischief. “She’s exactly yer type, ye ken. All those soft curves, that defiant look, that sharp tongue. If ye had a type, which ye claim ye daenae.”
“I daenae have a type because I’m nae interested in any woman.” Elijah forced himself to look back down at the contract, though the words blurred before his eyes. “Miss Armstrong is here to teach me children. That’s all.”
“Mm-hmm.” Declan didn’t sound convinced. “So ye just happened to bring home a beautiful lass and give her a position in yer household out of the pure goodness of yer heart?”
“Aye.”
“And it has nothin’ to do with the way ye were lookin’ at her when ye rode into the courtyard? Like ye’d fight off an army to keep her safe?”
Elijah’s head snapped up. “Ye daenae ken what ye’re talkin’ about.”
“Daenae I?” Declan leaned forward, his expression shifting from teasing to serious. “I’ve known ye for fifteen years, Elijah. Since we were both lads learnin’ to swing a sword. And I havenae seen ye look at anyone the way ye looked at that lass. Nae even Catherine, God rest her soul.”
“Then ye’re seein’ things that arenae there.”
“Am I?” Declan studied him for a long moment. “Where did ye find her, anyway? Ye left to help Hector shut down that hunt, and ye came back with a governess. That’s nae the whole story.”
Elijah hesitated. He trusted Declan with his life, had trusted him with far more over the years. But Piper’s story wasn’t his to tell.
“She was in trouble,” he said finally. “I helped her. She needed a position, and I needed a governess. That’s all ye need to ken.”
“In trouble.” Declan’s eyes narrowed. “What kind of trouble?”
“The kind that’s none of yer concern.” Elijah’s voice hardened.
“But I vowed to protect her, and I mean to keep that vow. So I need ye on guard, Declan. She has enemies, people who might come lookin’ for her.
If anyone shows up askin’ questions about a lass matchin’ her description, I want to ken about it immediately. ”
“Enemies,” Declan repeated slowly. “Serious enemies?”
“Aye. The kind that would sell her back into slavery without a second thought. The kind that would hurt her just to make a profit.”
Declan’s expression darkened. “Christ, Elijah. What did ye get yerself into?”
“Nothin’ I cannae handle.” Elijah met his friend’s gaze steadily. “But I need yer help. Can I count on ye?”
Declan was quiet for a moment, then nodded. “Aye. Always. Ye ken that.” He paused. “But if this lass is in danger, shouldn’t ye be tellin’ the rest of the household? The guards, at least?”
“I will. But first, I need to make sure she’s settled and feels safe here.
The last thing she needs is everyone treatin’ her like she’s about to be attacked at any moment.
” Elijah rubbed his temples, feeling a headache brewing.
“Just… keep yer eyes open. And yer mouth shut about where she came from.”
“Me mouth is always shut when it needs to be.” Declan stood, stretching. “Though I have to say, this is the most interestin’ thing to happen around here in years. A mysterious lass with enemies, a laird who swears he has nay interest in her, and—”
“Declan.”
“A vow of protection that seems awfully personal for someone ye claim is just an employee.”
“Get out of me study.”
“I’m goin’, I’m goin’.” Declan headed for the door, then paused with his hand on the frame. He looked back, and his expression had lost all traces of humor. “But before I do, I have one more question.”
“What?”
“Is that the only reason ye want to protect her? Because ye made a vow?”
Elijah glared at him. “What other reason would there be?”
“Oh, I daenae ken. Maybe because ye’re attracted to her? Because ye like the way she challenges ye? Because for the first time in nine years, ye’ve actually shown interest in a woman who’s nae a ghost hauntin’ yer memories?”
“I’m nae interested in her.” The lie tasted bitter on Elijah’s tongue. “She’s me employee. That’s all.”
“If ye say so, me laird.” Declan’s expression said he didn’t believe a word of it.
“Out. Now.”
“Aye, aye.” Declan finally left, pulling the door closed behind him with a soft click.
Elijah was alone with his thoughts again, and he found himself wishing Declan had stayed. At least then he’d have something to focus on besides the uncomfortable truths his friend had spoken.
Damn him. Damn him for seein’ too much.
Because Declan was right, wasn’t he? Elijah was attracted to Piper. Had been from the moment she’d run into his arms in that forest, all wild desperation and fierce determination to survive.
He’d told himself it was just the situation—the danger, the adrenaline, the primal satisfaction of having saved someone. But two days of riding with her soft body pressed against his had proven that theory wrong.
Two days of feeling her curves, smelling her hair, listening to her argue with him, watching the way her gray eyes flashed when she was angry or frightened or defiant—all of it had made it abundantly clear that what he felt wasn’t situation-dependent.
It was Piper-dependent.
And that was a problem.
Elijah stood abruptly and moved to the window, staring out at the darkening courtyard. He could see servants lighting torches, guards changing shifts, the normal evening routine of Castle McMahon playing out below.
This was his domain. His responsibility. Every person within these walls depended on him to keep them safe, to make good decisions, to be the Laird they needed.
And Piper was now one of those people.
She’d been through hell. Been held captive, and hunted like an animal. The last thing she needed was her employer, the man who’d vowed to protect her, looking at her with desire. Wanting things from her that she had every right to refuse.
She deserves better than that. Better than ye.
The thought of Catherine flashed through his mind. Her dying words blamed him for failing to save her. And she’d been right, hadn’t she? He had failed. Had been too slow, too distracted, too focused on the wrong threats.
If he couldn’t even protect his own wife—a woman he’d known for years, who’d borne his children—how could he promise to keep Piper safe?
Because ye have to. Because ye made a vow. Because she has nay one else.
Elijah’s hands clenched into fists on the windowsill, the stone cold and rough beneath his palms.
He would keep Piper safe. Would honor his vow and give her the security she needed to heal and build a new life. And he would do it without letting his inconvenient attraction get in the way.
She was his responsibility.
Nothing more.
Then why did yer blood boil when Declan called her bonnie?
Elijah forced the thought away, but it lingered like a burr under his skin.
Because that had been the moment he’d truly wanted to hit his oldest friend—when Declan had looked at him with that knowing grin and called Piper beautiful.
Called her curvy. Commented on the fire in her eyes like he had any right to notice such things.
The lass is mine.
The thought had come unbidden, fierce and possessive. Had roared through him with such intensity that he’d barely managed to keep his expression neutral and his fists from connecting with Declan’s smirking face.
Which made no sense. Piper wasn’t his. She’d signed a contract that explicitly gave her the freedom to leave whenever she wanted. She was a woman under his protection, nothing more.
But some primitive part of him—the part that had fought for her, claimed her in front of witnesses, carried her away from danger—that part didn’t care about contracts or logic or what was appropriate.
That part saw her as his to protect, his to care for, his to—
Stop. Just stop.
Elijah turned away from the window and paced back to his desk. The contract still lay there, both their signatures dark against the parchment. Proof that this was a business arrangement. Nothing more.
He needed to focus. Needed to review the accounts that had piled up during his absence, speak with his steward about the harvest preparations, and check on his children.
His children.
Christ, he’d barely thought about Masie and Connor since arriving home. What kind of father did that make him?
The same kind ye’ve always been. Distant. Unavailable. Failin’ them just like ye failed their maither.
The familiar guilt settled over him like a well-worn cloak. He should go find them. Should explain about the new governess before his mother got to them with her own version of events. Before they heard rumors from the servants about the mysterious lass their father had brought home.
But even as he thought it, Elijah found himself reluctant to leave his study. Found himself wanting to stay here, where he could think about Piper without anyone watching. Without anyone, like Declan, seeing too much.
Ye’re pathetic. Hidin’ in yer study like a lad with his first infatuation.
Except this wasn’t infatuation. This was something darker, more dangerous. This was the feeling that had surged through him when Declan called her beautiful—pure, undiluted possessiveness.
The urge to stake a claim, to make it clear that no one else could look at her that way. Touch her. Want her.
The moment Piper had become part of his household, she’d fallen under his protection. Not just because of his vow, but because that’s what a laird did. He protected his people. Provided for them. Kept them safe from harm.
But the feeling that had surged through him when Declan called her bonnie—that hadn’t been about protection. That had been pure possessiveness. Male pride.
The urge to bare his teeth and growl mine at anyone who dared to look at her with appreciation.
She’s nae yers to claim.
Elijah knew that. Understood it on a logical level.
But logic had nothing to do with the way his body had responded to holding her for two days. Logic couldn’t explain why the thought of another man looking at Piper with desire made him want to break things. Made him want to fight.
And logic definitely couldn’t help him figure out how he was going to live in the same castle as this woman without going mad from wanting what he couldn’t have.
Shouldnae have. She’s under yer protection. That means she’s off-limits.
A knock at the door interrupted his increasingly circular thoughts.
“Come in.”
The door opened to reveal one of the maids—young Ellen, if he remembered correctly. She bobbed a nervous curtsy, her eyes fixed on the floor.
“Beggin’ yer pardon, me laird, but Lady McMahon sent me to tell ye that supper will be ready within the hour. She says ye’re to come to the great hall and nae to even think about workin’ through the meal. Her exact words, me laird.”
Despite everything, Elijah almost smiled. His mother knew him too well.
“Tell her I’ll be there.”
“Aye, me laird.” Ellen hesitated, shifting her weight from foot to foot. “And… if ye daenae mind me sayin’… the new lass seems very nice. Sweet and polite, even though she looks dead on her feet. We’re all pleased to have a governess for the young master and mistress again. It’s been too long.”
“That’s good to hear. Thank ye, Ellen.”
The maid bobbed another curtsy and left, pulling the door closed behind her.
Elijah remained at his desk, staring at the contract. At Piper’s signature, neat and careful, the letters formed with obvious care.
He should go to the great hall. Should make an appearance, reassure the household that everything was normal. Should probably check on Piper and make sure his mother hadn’t overwhelmed her too much with her enthusiastic welcome.
But he stayed in his study as the light faded from the sky, watching shadows lengthen across the courtyard and trying to convince himself that what he felt for Piper Armstrong was nothing more than a laird’s duty to protect his people.
He failed.
Hours passed. The castle grew quiet as night fell and the household settled into sleep. Elijah finally forced himself to leave his study, making his usual evening rounds.
The guards were at their posts, alert and ready. The gates were locked and barred. His steward reported that all was well—the harvest preparations were on schedule, the accounts were in order, and there had been no incidents during his absence.
Normal. Everything was normal.
Except nothing felt normal. The air felt charged, as if the moments before a storm broke. As if something was about to happen.
Elijah headed toward his chambers on the second floor, his footsteps echoing in the stone corridors. Most of the household had already retired for the night. A few torches still burned in their sconces, casting flickering shadows on the walls that danced and writhed like living things.
He passed his mother’s chambers—dark and quiet. Passed the rooms his children occupied—also dark, though he paused outside Connor’s door, listening. Nothing. They were asleep.
Good. He’d speak with them in the morning. Explain about Piper properly, without his mother’s romantic notions coloring the conversation.
Elijah continued down the corridor toward his own chambers. He was exhausted; two days of riding with minimal rest had taken their toll, but his mind was still too active for sleep. Still circling back to gray eyes and soft curves and a voice that challenged him even when it shook with fear.
A scream shattered the silence.
High-pitched. Terrified. Unmistakably female.
Every muscle in Elijah’s body went rigid. His hand went to his sword—still at his hip, because he never went unarmed within his own walls, a habit formed after Catherine’s death—and he was moving before conscious thought caught up.
The scream had come from nearby. Close enough that he could pinpoint the direction with deadly accuracy.
From the chambers adjacent to his own.
From Piper.
Nay. Nay, nay, nay.
Elijah ran.