Chapter 11 #2
“He doesnae care about us. He cares about his duty, and his honor, and his dead wife, who was apparently so perfect that nay one can ever measure up. He hired ye because a laird is supposed to provide education for his children, and he wanted to check that off his list. That’s all.”
“That’s nae true,” Connor said, but his voice was small. “Da cares about us. He just, he’s busy. He’s got the whole clan to look after, and that’s more important than—”
He stopped abruptly, as if realizing what he was about to say.
“More important than us,” Masie finished for him. “Ye can say it, Connor. We both ken it’s true.”
“I daenae mind,” Connor said quickly. Too quickly. “I daenae need him anyway. I daenae even like him. He’s borin’ and serious and never fun, so why would I want him to pay attention to me?”
The lie was so transparent it hurt to hear.
Piper looked at these two children—Masie with her brittle defiance, Connor with his forced cheerfulness—and saw herself. Saw the girl she’d been, desperate for her parents’ love but pretending she didn’t care when it never came.
It wasn't her business. Elijah himself had told her so.
But maybe she could be something for them. Maybe she could give them what Alexandra had given her—a safe place, a listening ear, someone who actually cared.
Before she could second-guess herself, Piper slid off the rock and knelt in front of the children. They both looked at her with surprise.
“Come here,” Piper said softly, opening her arms.
Connor hesitated only a moment before stepping into her embrace. Masie stayed back, her expression wary.
“Both of ye,” Piper said. “Please.”
“I daenae want—” Masie started.
“I ken ye daenae want it. But maybe ye need it.”
For a long moment, Masie stood there. Then, so slowly that Piper barely saw her move, she stepped forward. Piper wrapped her other arm around the girl, pulling both children close.
They were stiff at first, uncertain. But gradually, they relaxed into the embrace. Connor’s small arms went around her waist. Masie’s hands clutched at Piper’s dress.
“I want ye both to listen to me,” Piper said, her voice thick with emotion. “I daenae ken what yer faither is thinkin’, or why he keeps his distance. But I ken this, ye deserve better. Ye deserve to be seen and heard and loved for who ye are, nae for who anyone thinks ye should be.”
“That’s nae how the world works,” Masie mumbled against Piper’s shoulder.
“Maybe nae. But it’s how I work.” Piper pulled back enough to look at both of them.
“I vow to ye both, right here, right now, I will always be here for ye. When ye need someone to talk to, when ye need help, when ye just need someone who’ll listen without judgin’, I’ll be that person. For as long as ye’ll have me.”
“What if we tell ye things about Da?” Connor asked. “Things we’re nae supposed to say?”
“Then I willnae repeat them to him. What ye tell me stays between us, unless it’s somethin’ that could hurt ye. Do ye understand?”
“Like a secret keeper?” Connor’s eyes were wide.
“Aye. Like a secret keeper.”
“But ye work for our faither,” Masie said, pulling back slightly. Her eyes were bright with unshed tears. “Ye’ll have to tell him things. Ye’ll have to report on us.”
“I’ll tell him about yer lessons. About what ye’re learnin’ and how ye’re progressin’. But yer feelings? Yer thoughts? Yer secrets? Those are yers, and I willnae betray them.”
“Why would ye do that for us?” Masie’s voice cracked.
“Because someone did it for me once,” Piper said simply. “And it saved me life. Maybe nae in a literal sense, but in every way that mattered. So now I want to do the same for someone else. For ye.”
Masie stared at her for a long moment, searching Piper’s face for lies, tricks, or hidden motives. Whatever she saw there must have satisfied her, because she suddenly pressed forward again, her arms wrapping tight around Piper’s neck.
“Thank ye,” Masie whispered, so quietly Piper almost didn’t hear it.
Connor squeezed tighter, and Piper held them both, kneeling there by the loch with the morning sun warming her back and these two broken children in her arms.
She didn’t know how to fix their relationship with their father. Didn’t know if she even could. But she could do this. Could be present. Could care.
She could love them the way Alexandra had loved her.
“Now,” Piper said after a while, pulling back and wiping at her own eyes. “I believe we have some lessons to start. But first, do ye ken any other stories? About this loch, or the castle, or yer clan?”
“I ken one about a ghost!” Connor said, his enthusiasm returning. “There’s supposed to be a lady who walks the east tower at midnight, weepin’ for her lost love!”
“That’s just a story the servants tell to scare each other,” Masie said, but she was smiling now. Actually smiling.
“But what if it’s true? Miss Armstrong said there might be truth in old stories!”
“I said there might be,” Piper clarified, standing and brushing off her skirt. “But I’m certainly willin’ to listen to the story and decide for meself.”
They walked back toward the castle together, Connor chattering about ghosts and Masie adding occasional corrections or embellishments. And for the first time since arriving at Castle McMahon, Piper felt like maybe—just maybe—she’d made the right decision in staying.
Even if it meant seeing Elijah every day.
Even if it meant remembering his kiss every time she closed her eyes.
Even if it meant wanting something she could never have.
Because these children needed her. And that was enough.
It had to be enough.