Chapter 12
“Where’s the Laird?”
The words burst out of Piper the moment she stormed back through the castle gates, her fury propelling her forward with single-minded determination.
She’d left Connor and Masie with Amara, citing the need to prepare for their afternoon lessons, but that was a lie. She needed to find Elijah. Needed to tell him exactly what she thought of his parenting. Needed to—
Needed to what? Tell a laird how to raise his own children? Are ye mad?
Yes, he'd warned her not to interfere. But that was before she'd spent the morning with his children, before she'd heard the pain in their voices, before she'd seen how desperately they needed him.
It has been a week since they told her how they feel, and the children have been getting more dejected as time passed.
She didn't care if he'd told her to mind her place. She didn't care if he was the Laird. Those children were hurting, and someone had to speak up for them. Piper couldn’t let them be like her – lonely, feeling unwanted, and unloved.
She’d made a promise to those children, and she meant to keep it. Even if it meant confronting their father. Even if it meant risking her position.
Even if it meant facing the man who’d kissed her senseless last night and then fled like a coward.
A young guard looked at her with wide eyes. “The Laird, miss?”
“Aye, the Laird. The man who runs this castle. Where is he?”
“I… I daenae ken.”
“Never mind.” Piper pushed past him and into the castle proper. Someone here would know where Elijah was. Someone had to.
She strode through the corridors, her heart pounding—though whether from anger or nerves, she couldn't say.
Her hands trembled slightly at her sides, but she forced herself to keep moving forward.
Servants pressed themselves against walls as she passed, their curious stares making her skin prickle with awareness.
Part of her wanted to turn back, to remember her place, to be the quiet, obedient girl her parents had beaten into submission. But then she thought of Connor's sad eyes and Masie's anger, and something in her chest tightened.
Those children needed someone to speak for them. And if no one else would... well, she'd already survived being sold, hunted, and nearly killed. What was one angry laird compared to that?
Still, her stomach churned with anxiety as she approached his study.
She turned a corner and nearly collided with a man coming the other way. A large man with dark hair and an amused expression that immediately set her teeth on edge.
“Well now,” the man said, his eyes twinkling. “Ye must be Miss Armstrong. The new governess everyone’s talkin’ about.”
“Yes. Yes, I am. I need to find the Laird,” Piper said without preamble. “Do ye ken where he is?”
“I might.” The man’s grin widened. “But first, perhaps ye should take a breath? Ye look like ye’re about to commit murder.”
“I’m about to commit somethin’ if someone doesnae tell me where Elijah is right now.”
“Elijah, is it?” The man’s eyebrows rose. “Already on a first-name basis with the Laird? How interestin’.”
Piper felt heat creep up her neck. “Laird McMahon, then. Where is he?”
“His study. Down this corridor, third door on the left.” The man gestured. “But perhaps ye should—”
Piper was already moving, her skirts swishing as she marched down the hallway. Behind her, she heard the man chuckle, but she didn’t care. Didn’t care about anything except getting to Elijah and telling him exactly what she thought of him.
The study door loomed ahead. Piper didn’t bother knocking; she grabbed the handle and shoved it open with enough force to make it bang against the wall.
Elijah was behind his desk, quill in hand, papers spread before him. His head snapped up at the intrusion, his green eyes widening in surprise.
“Piper.”
“Ye have some nerve,” Piper announced, striding into the room.
Elijah’s expression shifted from surprise to wariness. He set down his quill carefully. “If this is about last night—”
“Last night?” Piper stopped in the middle of the room, momentarily taken aback. Then her anger reasserted itself. “I’m nae here to talk about last night. I’m here to talk about yer children!”
“Me what?”
“Yer children!” Piper’s voice rose. “The two bairns ye claim to care about but apparently cannae be bothered to actually spend time with!”
Elijah stood slowly, his jaw tightening. “I daenae think ye understand.”
“Oh, I understand perfectly.” Piper advanced on his desk. “I understand that yesterday ye told me nae to interfere with how ye raise them. That their discipline and upbringin’ were none of me concern. Do ye remember that?”
“Aye, I remember.”
“And yet here ye are, ignorin’ them so completely that yer daughter thinks ye hired me just to get them out of yer hair! That yer son pretends he doesnae care about ye because it hurts too much to admit he’s desperate for yer attention!”
“That’s nae—” Elijah started, but Piper cut him off.
“It is! I just spent the mornin’ with them, Elijah. I looked into their eyes and saw the same pain I felt as a child. The same desperate hope that maybe, just maybe, their parent might actually love them. Might actually see them as more than obligations to be managed!”
“Ye daenae ken what ye’re talkin’ about,” Elijah said, his voice hard. “I provide for them. I keep them safe.”
“Ye ignore them!” Piper slammed her hands on his desk. “Ye hide away in this study doin’… doin’ whatever it is lairds do, and ye leave yer children to raise themselves! That’s nae providin’, that’s abandonin’!”
“How dare ye.”
“How dare I? How dare ye!” Piper’s voice rose a little bit higher, all her carefully maintained composure shattering. “Ye hired me to teach them. To guide them. But how am I supposed to do that when their own faither willnae even show them basic affection?”
The moment the words left her mouth, Piper knew she’d gone too far. Elijah’s face went pale, then flushed with anger. His hands clenched into fists on the desk.
“Ye will nae speak of me in that manner,” he said, his voice deadly quiet.
“Why nae? Because the truth hurts?” Piper knew she should stop, knew she was crossing lines that couldn’t be uncrossed, but she couldn’t seem to make herself care. “Yer children deserve a faither, Elijah. Nae a ghost hauntin’ these corridors.”
“I am their faither.”
“Then act like it!”
“I am actin’ like it!” Elijah roared, coming around the desk toward her. “I’m keepin’ them safe! I’m makin’ sure they have everythin’ they need!”
“Ye’re keepin’ them at arm’s length because ye’re afraid!” Piper stood her ground even as he loomed over her. “Ye’re afraid that if ye let yerself love them, if ye let yerself be close to them, ye’ll fail them the way ye think ye failed yer wife!”
“Ye ken nothin’ about what happened with Catherine.”
“I ken what yer children told me! That their faither doesnae have time for them. That he’d rather work than spend five minutes in their company. That they feel like obligations instead of—”
“Enough!” Elijah’s voice cracked like a whip. “Ye’ve been here one day, Piper. One. Single. Day. And ye think that gives ye the right to tell me how to raise me own children?”
“Someone needs to tell ye!”
“Then let it be someone who actually kens them! Who’s been in their lives longer than a few hours!”
“Fine!” Piper threw her hands up. “Let it be someone who’s been watchin’ them suffer for years and never said a word! Let it be yer maither, who’s clearly as frustrated as I am but too polite to say anythin’! Let it be—”
“This is exactly what I told ye yesterday,” Elijah interrupted, his voice tight with barely controlled fury. “Ye’re here to teach them. Nae to fix me family. Nae to interfere with how I choose to raise them.”
“And I told ye yesterday that I cannae just stand by and watch them hurt!”
“That’s nae yer decision to make!”
“Then maybe ye made a mistake hirin’ me!” Piper shot back. “Because I’m nae the kind of woman who can watch children suffer and do nothin’ about it!”
“Then maybe ye’re right. Maybe I did make a mistake.”
The words hung in the air between them like poison. Piper felt something cold settle in her stomach.
“Is that what ye want?” she asked, her voice suddenly quiet. “For me to leave?”
Elijah opened his mouth, then closed it. Some of the fury drained from his expression, replaced by something more complicated. “I want ye to do the job I hired ye for. Nay more, nay less.”
“The job ye hired me for includes carin’ about yer children’s wellbein’.”
“It includes teachin’ them. That’s all.”
“That’s nae all, and ye ken it!” Piper’s frustration boiled over again. “Ye cannae separate teachin’ from carin’! Ye cannae expect me to spend every day with those bairns and nae form attachments! And ye cannae expect me to watch them break their hearts tryin’ to earn yer love and just ignore it!”
“I do love them,” Elijah said, and for the first time, his voice cracked. “I love them more than anythin’ in this world.”
“Then show them!” Piper took a step toward him. “Talk to them. Spend time with them. Let them see that they matter to ye as more than just responsibilities!”
“It’s nae that simple.”
“It is that simple! It’s exactly that simple!”
“Ye daenae understand!” Elijah ran a hand through his hair, his composure finally cracking.
“Every time I look at them, I see Catherine. I see how I failed her. How I wasnae fast enough, strong enough, good enough to save her. And I think… if I let meself get too close to them, if I let meself love them the way I should… I’ll fail them too.
I’ll let them down when they need me most.”
He stopped, seeming to realize he’d said too much.
Piper stared at him, her anger draining away as understanding crashed over her. “Ye think keepin’ yer distance will protect them.”
“I ken it will.”
“But it willnae. It’s hurtin’ them. Can’t ye see that? Yer distance is doin’ more damage than any physical threat ever could.”
“At least they’re alive to be hurt,” Elijah said bitterly. “At least they’re safe.”