Chapter 18
“Now, Masie, can ye translate this next passage from English to French?”
Piper stood at the front of the schoolroom, pointing to the text on the board. Masie bent over her slate, her brow furrowed in concentration, while Connor worked through arithmetic problems at his own desk.
It had been two days since the incident in the portrait gallery. Two days of stolen glances across the great hall. Two days of Piper’s body remembering exactly what Elijah’s hands had felt like on her skin.
And two days of trying very hard to pretend everything was normal.
“Miss Armstrong?” Masie looked up. “Is this correct?”
Piper forced her attention back to the lesson, moving to examine Masie’s work. “Aye, that’s—”
A knock at the door interrupted her. One of the young maids—Ellen, Piper thought her name was—poked her head in, looking uncomfortable.
“Beggin’ yer pardon, Miss Armstrong, but there’s… there’s someone here demandin’ to see ye.”
“Demandin’?” Piper frowned. “Who?”
“They’re waitin’ in the courtyard. Refused to leave until they speak with ye.”
The blood drained from Piper’s face. Who could it be? She hoped with everything inside her that it wasn’t her parents or one of her captors.
“Miss Armstrong?” Masie’s voice seemed to come from very far away. “Are ye all right? Ye’ve gone all pale.”
“I’m…” Piper’s voice came out strangled. She cleared her throat and tried again. “I’m fine. I need to go handle somethin’. Can ye both continue with yer work while I’m gone?”
“But who’s here to see ye?” Connor asked, his curiosity evident.
Piper was already moving toward the door. “Please. Just continue with yer work. I’ll be back shortly.”
“Should I fetch me da?” Masie asked suddenly, her eyes sharp. “Ye look like ye might need—”
“Nay!” The word came out too fast, too desperate. “Nay, I’ll be fine. I just need to… to handle this meself. ‘Tis a personal matter.”
She followed Ellen through the corridors, her heart pounding with each step. Maybe it wasn’t them.
But when she stepped out into the courtyard, there they were.
Findlay and Paisley Armstrong stood near the gates, looking out of place among the bustle of castle life.
Her father wore the same threadbare coat she remembered, his face ruddy from drink. Her mother had attempted to dress nicely, probably borrowed or stolen the gown she wore, but her gray eyes were as cold and calculating as ever.
Piper stopped several paces away, her hands clenched into fists at her sides.
“There she is!” Paisley’s face lit up with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Our darlin’ daughter! We’ve been so worried about ye, sweet girl! When we heard about that terrible business with those men, we thought we’d lost ye forever!”
“Stay back.” The words came out sharp, commanding. “Daenae come any closer.”
Paisley’s smile faltered. “Now, Piper, is that any way to greet yer maither? We’ve traveled all this way to see ye, to make sure ye’re all right.”
“I said stay back, or I’ll scream.” Piper’s voice rose. “I’ll scream loud enough that every guard in this castle comes runnin’ to toss ye both on yer arses.”
“Piper!” Findlay stepped forward, his expression hardening. “That’s nay way to speak to yer maither. Show some respect.”
“Respect?” Piper let out a bitter laugh. “Ye want me to show ye respect? After what ye did to me?”
“We did what we had to do,” Paisley said, her false sweetness replaced by steel. “We were in debt, lass. What were we supposed to do? Let them kill us?”
“Ye could have worked!” Piper’s voice shook. “Ye could have stopped gamblin’! Ye could have done anythin’ except sell yer own daughter like cattle!”
“We’re yer parents,” Paisley continued as if Piper hadn’t spoken. “We raised ye. Fed ye. Gave ye a home. Clothed ye.”
“Maithers daenae sell their daughters as slaves,” Piper interrupted, her voice shaking with fury. “Faithers daenae hand over their children to pay gamblin’ debts. So nay, ye’re nae me parents. Ye’re just two strangers who happened to birth me and then made me life a livin’ hell.”
Several servants had stopped what they were doing, watching the confrontation with open curiosity. Piper didn’t care. Let them watch.
“How dare ye!” Findlay’s face flushed darker. “After everythin’ we did for ye! After all the sacrifices we made!”
“Sacrifices?” Piper’s voice rose to a near shout.
“What sacrifices? Ye never sacrificed anythin’!
I was the one who went without the barest necessities!
I was the one who worked from dawn to dusk and gave ye every coin!
I was the one who wore clothes that dinnae fit because ye spent all our money at the gamblin’ tables! ”
“We gave ye a roof over yer head.”
“Aye, and beat me bloody under that roof!” Piper took a step forward, shaking with rage. “Do ye think I’ve forgotten? Do ye think I daenae remember every time ye came home drunk and used me as a target for yer frustrations? Every time ye told me I was worthless, ugly, a burden?”
“We never—” Paisley started.
“Ye did! Ye did all of that and more!” Piper’s eyes burned with tears she refused to shed. “And then, when yer debts finally caught up with ye, when ye couldnae gamble yer way out anymore, ye sold me. Yer own daughter. To men who hunted me like an animal!”
“Now ye listen here—” Findlay’s voice took on a dangerous edge.
“Nay, ye listen.” Piper took another step forward, surprised by her own courage. “I want ye to leave. Get out of this castle, get out of this territory, and never come near me again. That’s yer only warnin’.”
“We’re nae leavin’,” Paisley said flatly. “Nae until ye give us what we’re owed.”
“What ye’re owed?” Piper stared at her in disbelief. “I daenae owe ye anythin’!”
“Ye owe us everythin’!” Findlay’s voice rose. “Twenty-four years we fed ye! Twenty-four years we kept a roof over yer head! Ye think that was free? Ye think food and shelter and clothes just appeared out of nowhere?”
“I worked for every meal I ever ate in yer house!” Piper shot back. “From the time I was ten years old, I was givin’ ye me wages! I had nothin’, nae even clothes that fit properly, because ye took everythin’ from me! Every. Single. Thing.”
“Because it was ours by right,” Paisley said. “Just like yer wages now are ours by right. Ye’re livin’ in a castle, workin’ for a wealthy laird, earnin’ what, ten pounds a month? Twenty? And we’re still scratchin’ by in that village, drownin’ in debt because of what ye cost us all those years.”
“What I cost ye?” Piper’s voice cracked. “I was yer daughter! Ye’re supposed to care for me, love me! But ye never gave me either of those, did ye? All ye gave me was pain and fear and the certainty that I was worth nothin’!”
“Stop bein’ so dramatic,” Findlay sneered. “We gave ye discipline when ye needed it. That’s what parents do.”
“Discipline?” Piper pulled at the neckline of her dress, showing the edge of a scar on her collarbone. “This is nae discipline! This is abuse! And I bear the marks of yer ‘parentin’ all over me back!”
“Ye deserved every one of them,” Paisley said coldly. “Ye were always such a difficult child. Always cryin’, always complainin’.”
“I was a child!” Piper snapped. “I was just a child who wanted her parents to love her! But ye couldnae even give me that, could ye? Ye couldnae spare even a moment of kindness for yer own daughter!”
“We’re done discussin’ this,” Findlay said, his voice hardening. “Ye’re goin’ to give us money. Now. Or we’re goin’ to tell yer fancy laird some things about ye that’ll make him throw ye out.”
“Oh ye! Ye never stop, do ye? I’m nae givin’ ye a single coin,” Piper said firmly. “Nae now. Nae ever.”
“Ye owe us yer life!” Findlay roared. “And ye’re goin’ to give us what we’re owed, or I swear to God—”
“Or what?” Piper challenged, her fear evaporating in the face of her fury. “What are ye goin’ to do? Beat me? Ye cannae touch me here. Sell me again? I’m already under the protection of Laird McMahon. There’s nothin’ ye can do to me anymore. Ye have nay power over me!”
“We’ll see about that.” Findlay’s face twisted with rage. “Ye always were an ungrateful little bitch. Maybe a good beatin’ will remind ye of yer place.”
He took a step toward her, his hand raised, and Piper flinched—couldn’t help it. The old fear was too ingrained, the memory of his fists too fresh despite the years.
But before Findlay could take another step, a voice rang out across the courtyard. Cold. Deadly. Absolute.
“I wouldnae do that if I were ye.”
Elijah had been on alert from the moment one of his guards had informed him that a middle-aged man and woman had arrived at the gates demanding entry. Saying they wanted to see Piper.
He’d known immediately that they were her parents. What they wanted.
And he’d known, with absolute certainty, that he needed to be there when Piper faced them.
So, he’d positioned himself near the entrance to the keep, close enough to intervene if needed, but far enough away that Piper could handle it herself if she chose to.
He’d watched her face go pale with shock. Watched her straighten her spine and face them anyway. Watched her find the courage she probably didn’t even know she possessed.
Pride had swelled in his chest as she’d told them to leave. As she’d stood her ground against the people who’d terrorized her for years. But when her father had raised his hand—when Piper had flinched, that instinctive recoil of someone who knew what was coming—Elijah’s control had shattered.
“I wouldnae do that if I were ye,” he repeated, his voice deadly quiet as he closed the distance between them.
Every eye turned to him, but Elijah only had eyes for the man who’d dared to threaten what was his.
Findlay’s hand dropped, and he turned to face Elijah with a sneer that quickly faltered when he saw who was approaching. “And who might ye be?”