Chapter 18 #2
Elijah didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he moved with the speed that came from years of training, grabbing Findlay by the throat and slamming him against the courtyard wall hard enough to knock the breath from his lungs.
“I am Laird Elijah Quinn of Clan McMahon,” Elijah said softly, his face inches from Findlay’s. His voice was conversational, almost pleasant, which made it all the more terrifying. “And ye just made a very serious mistake.”
“Let… let go…” Findlay wheezed, his face turning red.
“In a moment. First, we’re goin’ to establish some rules.” Elijah’s grip tightened slightly. “Rule number one: Ye daenae touch what’s mine. Ever. Are we clear?”
Findlay tried to nod, his eyes bulging.
“Rule number two: Ye daenae speak to what’s mine with anythin’ but the utmost respect. That includes tone, word choice, and general attitude.” Elijah tilted his head. “Are we still clear?”
Another desperate nod.
“Good. Now, rule number three, and this is the most important one, so listen carefully.” Elijah leaned in closer.
“If ye ever come near Piper Armstrong again, if ye so much as think about contactin’ her, I will personally ensure that ye spend the rest of yer miserable lives in me dungeons.
And I promise ye, they’re nae pleasant. Do. We. Understand. Each. Other?”
“Aye!” Findlay gasped out. “Aye, we understand!”
“Excellent.” Elijah released him, and Findlay slumped against the wall, coughing and rubbing his throat.
Paisley, who’d been standing frozen in shock, finally found her voice. “Ye cannae do this; this is assault! We’re her parents! This is a family matter!”
Elijah turned his attention to her, and whatever she saw in his eyes made her take an instinctive step backward.
“A family matter?” Elijah’s voice was dangerously soft. “Is that what ye call sellin’ yer own daughter to pay yer gamblin’ debts? A family matter?”
Paisley’s face went pale. “I daenae remember doin’ that.”
“Save yer lies for someone who’ll believe them.” Elijah took a step toward her, and she backed up further.
“We’re her parents!” Paisley insisted, her voice rising shrilly. “The law says children must support their parents! Surely, it’s tradition to expect support from our own daughter!”
“The law also forbids parents from sell their children. But that dinnae stop ye. As laird, me word is final in me territory,” Elijah interrupted coldly.
“And I say ye have nay claim on Piper. None whatsoever. She owes ye nothin’.
Nae a single coin. Nae a moment of her time.
Nae even a kind thought. Do I make meself perfectly clear? ”
“But—” Paisley started.
“I’m nae finished.” Elijah’s voice dropped even lower. “Furthermore, if ye attempt to contact her again—through letters, messages, or any other means—I will consider it harassment of a member of me household. And I deal very harshly with the ones who harass me people.”
Findlay had recovered enough to draw himself up, trying to salvage some dignity even as he continued rubbing his bruised throat. “And who are ye to interfere in this? She may work for ye, but that doesnae give ye the right to—”
“She belongs to me,” Elijah said flatly.
The courtyard went very quiet. Out of the corner of his eye, Elijah could see Piper’s face flush red, but he didn’t look at her. Didn’t dare, because if he did, he might lose his focus. And he needed these people to understand exactly what they were dealing with.
“Belongs…” Paisley’s eyes widened with false understanding. “Oh. Oh, I see. So that’s how it is. Our daughter’s become yer—”
“Choose yer next words very carefully,” Elijah warned, his hand moving to his sword. “Because if ye insult her honor, I’ll forget I’m a gentleman and show ye exactly what happens to people who slander women under me protection.”
Paisley’s mouth snapped shut.
“She belongs to me,” Elijah continued, his voice carrying across the suddenly silent courtyard.
“Because she signed a contract. Because she’s part of me household.
Because she’s under both me protection and me authority.
Which means I can interfere however I damn well please.
And what pleases me right now is tellin’ ye to get the hell out of me castle before I have me guards drag ye out by yer heels. ”
He took another step toward them, and both Paisley and Findlay backed up.
“And if we daenae?” Findlay’s voice shook, but there was still defiance in his eyes. “What then? Ye cannae keep us from our own daughter! We have rights!”
“Ye have nothin’,” Elijah said softly. “And if ye’re smart—which I’m beginnin’ to doubt—ye’ll leave now while ye still can. While I’m still feelin’ merciful.”
For a long moment, no one moved. The entire courtyard seemed to hold its breath, waiting to see what would happen next.
“Guards!”
Two guards immediately stepped forward, hands on their weapons.
“Escort these two off me lands,” Elijah ordered. “And make sure they understand that they’re nae welcome to return. Ever.”
“Aye, me laird,” one of the guards said, moving toward Findlay and Paisley.
Findlay spat on the ground near Elijah’s feet—an insult that had several more guards reaching for their weapons—but he let the guards take his arms.
“This isnae over!” he called back as they were led toward the gates. “Ye hear me, Piper? Ye owe us! And we’ll get what’s ours one way or another! Ye cannae hide behind yer laird forever!”
Elijah watched them being escorted away, but unease prickled at the back of his neck. He'd seen men like Piper's father before—desperate, greedy, and foolish enough to be dangerous.
They wouldn't let this go. Not the money, and certainly not their daughter's defiance
As the guards shoved them through the gate, Piper's father glanced back over his shoulder. Their eyes met for just a moment, and what Elijah saw there made his blood run cold.
Not defeat. Not even anger.
Calculation.
He'd need to keep Piper close. Very close.