Chapter 3
Halfway down the hall, Daphne came to her senses and began slapping at his thick forearm.
“Let me go!” she hissed. “Let me go, now!”
He ignored her for a moment, dragging her a few more feet until they reached the end of the corridor. They passed the stairs, which led to the bottom floors and the front door, and just beyond the top of the stairs was a circular landing with a large round window and a curved window seat.
Lady Pilbury kept a few books stacked neatly on shelves around the seat, carefully angled to keep the sun off their spines.
Hunter stopped there and released her.
Daphne spun around to face him, glowering.
“I could have screamed for help,” she bit out.
He sniffed. “But ye didnae. Enough of yer whining, lass.”
“I have a mind to go right back into that room and tell yer mother how ye have behaved.”
He folded his thick, muscular arms across his broad chest. “Do it, then. Me mother doesnae command me. I am Laird MacCrimmon, nae her.”
She was tempted to call his bluff. But if she did that, the conversation would end. Lady Pilbury might even feel obliged to put Hunter and his mother out of the house, and that would be unfair.
Besides, it was good for Willow to make new friends. She didn’t get out of the house too much, since Daphne was busy with caring for her employer. Lady Pilbury adored Willow, and it was good for them both to spend time together.
Occasionally, guilt would nibble at the edge of Daphne’s mind, reminding her that her daughter needed friends her age. Willow needed to see more of the world. She deserved to see her home, at least once.
Now wasn’t the time for that sort of thinking, however.
“Well then, what do ye want?” Daphne muttered, scowling.
“Ye have got some cheek, lass. I looked for ye, ye ken. Thought I’d see ye at the festival, at least.”
Her chest tightened.
He looked for me? He wanted to see me?
No, she reminded herself, it wasn’t about that. She could only be a conquest. He probably liked to keep an eye on all the women he bedded.
She thought about asking him that, but decided against it. It was too personal. Plus, she was supposed to be working. Although judging from the laughter and chatter drifting from the bedroom at the end of the hallway, Lady Pilbury was in better spirits than she’d been for a while.
“Why did ye run?” Hunter asked after a moment.
Daphne rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands. “I was supposed to wed a man the day after the festival.”
“I remember that. Which man?”
“It doesnae matter now. I fled, and the marriage never happened.”
“Fled?”
“I thought I could wed him, but I couldnae,” she snapped. “I came to England, and I took a position as Lady Pilbury’s companion. Then I discovered…” she trailed off, biting her lower lip. “I didnae expect to be with child.”
He was silent for a moment. He stared down at her, and she stared at her feet.
The panic and terror of those early months still lingered in her mind. Her courses had always come on time, so when they hadn’t, she’d known at once what had happened.
Fear set in. Everybody knew that the English were much stricter and crueler when it came to moral matters. Unwed mothers were often turned out onto the street, or else forced into hellish workhouses where they were separated from their children.
She’d even heard horror stories of poor unwed mothers being told that their children were stillborn and died before taking their first breath. The babies, alive and well, were given over to orphanages or wealthy couples with no children of their own.
She could still remember the tension thrumming through her gut when she finally stood before Lady Pilbury in the morning room, her fingers laced over her belly, and told her the plain truth.
Lady Pilbury had only blinked at her, her teacup poised before her mouth. Carefully, she’d set down her cup with a clatter.
“Well,” she said, “it certainly has been a while since we’ve had a baby in the house. How exciting!”
And that was it. No reproach, no awkward questions, just excitement and tales of when she’d raised her own children.
The thought that this woman would soon die lodged in the back of Daphne’s throat like a splinter. Tears were never far away, but she never allowed them to fall.
No, Lady Pilbury needed her support now, her strength, not her tears.
She dragged her gaze up from the floor and found Hunter watching her, his eyes narrowed.
“The Wolf once took me mother's sister,” she stated, lifting her chin. “That’s what me mother told me. He takes first daughters, and I am a first daughter. I always believed it to be a myth. But me mother doesnae, nor does me sister. And then I heard all the stories that night, before we met…”
He gave a low grunt. “And ye think I couldnae kill the bastard for ye?”
She flinched. That was unexpected.
Kill him? She wanted to gasp. For me? Why?
Instead, she dropped her gaze and shook her head.
“It wasnae just fear of the Wolf that made me leave. I broke off me engagement, remember? I ran away from me betrothed. I had a bairn. The man I was meant to marry…” She let out a long breath and raked a hand through her hair.
Usually, she wore her hair in a neat, demure knot at the back of her head. Companions were supposed to be neat and well-dressed, but not showy. Modesty was the order of the day.
The movement of her fingers through her hair dislodged a few strands. Out of habit, she twisted the strands back, tucking them back into the knot. Hunter’s keen gaze followed the movement, and she felt goosebumps crawl over her skin. A shiver, but a pleasant one.
Enough, lass! Focus!
“Me betrothed was the current Laird Gilmore,” she revealed quietly. “I imagine he’s offended at me absence.”
“I shouldnae fret,” he responded. “I can handle Gilmore.”
“Perhaps ye can, but I daenae wish to cause trouble for anyone. So, I came here, and I stayed here. That’s all there is to it.”
Hunter folded his arms, leaning back. He hadn’t been looming over her too intensely, but even so, Daphne let out a ragged sigh when space opened up between them, feeling as though she’d been holding her breath.
The warmth didn’t retreat from her chest, however. The burning sensation remained.
She cleared her throat, glancing away, and waited for him to speak. He certainly had something to say, that was clear in his tense shoulders and tight jaw, so it seemed better to let him get it out.
“Ye daenae trust me to keep ye safe.”
She glared at him. “Why should I? Why should ye?”
“Because ye are the mother of me child.”
“Ye daenae ken that.”
“Everybody will ken it once they look at her.”
“If I go back, I’ll put everyone in danger.”
“When ye come back,” he corrected, “everyone will be protected. I will protect ye.”
Daphne met his eyes. For a minute, she let herself imagine it.
She imagined hopping onto the back of Hunter’s horse, or however he had gotten down here from Scotland, and riding off into the sunset.
Even though a long trip to the Highlands on the back of a horse would be hellish, and since it was only noon, the sunset was hours away.
In her imagination, Willow was with them. She either sat sandwiched between them on the horse’s back, or sort of floated in the middle distance, because it was a vague daydream, and the ordinary laws of physics and gravity did not apply.
Then she blinked, and everything was back to normal. The warm sunlight streamed in through the window, Hunter was watching her with that intent expression, and the facts were the facts, utterly insurmountable.
“I cannae possibly go with ye back to Scotland,” she said.
He frowned. “Why nae?”
“Why do ye think? I just told ye. Putting the Wolf aside, I cannae bring trouble to me family by returning. And what about Lady Pilbury? She’s sick and will die soon.
The doctor said she only had a couple of days left the last time he saw her.
She’s a fighter, true enough, but I doubt that she’ll see the end of the month.
She’s been good to me, and to Willow. In fact, me daughter sees her as a grandmother more than anything else. ”
“Our daughter,” he corrected.
Daphne flinched at that, taken aback. She considered arguing, and decided against it.
“I willnae leave Lady Pilbury,” she insisted, her voice lowering.
“There is nothing ye can say that would make me leave that woman’s bedside.
She has sons, ye ken? She adored them. Never did a mother spoil her children more.
Me mother always said that spoiling a child ruined them, and I think she is right.
Lady Pilbury’s sons daenae visit her. The eldest inherited the title when their father died, and the estate was mostly shared out between them.
When Lady Pilbury dies, they’ll get the rest of it.
They ken they only have to wait. I’ve lost track of how many letters I’ve drafted and sent on her behalf.
Never an answer. Never a visit. They daenae care about her, but I willnae leave her. ”
She practically spat out the last few words, anger flaring in her chest.
She had met the Pilbury boys once or twice.
In the early days, they had arrived at the occasional family dinner.
Lady Pilbury was always a pathetic mess, desperately showering gifts on her three sons and their indifferent wives.
They treated Daphne like a glorified slave, and of course Willow was not permitted to meet them at all.
“I am not happy when they are here,” Lady Pilbury had confided once, frowning and twisting her fingers together. “But I should be happy, shouldn’t I? A mother should have no greater joy than her children.”
Hunter drew his lower lip between his teeth. “I see.”
Without another word, he turned on his heel and marched back up the hallway. Daphne followed him, wide-eyed, trying desperately to work out what was going on.
He went straight to the door of Lady Pilbury’s room and strode in without so much as a knock.
Lady Pilbury was sitting up in bed, with a few extra pillows behind her. Helena had settled herself on the other side of the bed, with Willow cuddled up between them, dwarfed by the large book.
Daphne noticed again that Lady Pilbury had a spark in her eyes that hadn’t been there before. Was it the presence of her old friend? Maybe. Or perhaps it was just the excitement of something new.
All three of them glanced up when Hunter entered.
Helena frowned. “Ach, we’re nae leaving yet, son! I’ve only just got here.”
“I have a proposition,” he said shortly. “Lady Pilbury, I understand ye’re seriously ill. Dying, in fact.”
Daphne gave an outraged gasp and stepped forward, but Lady Pilbury held up a hand, stopping her in her tracks.
“That’s true,” she answered mildly. “It’s bad news, but I’ve never had fine health. I have made my peace with it.”
He grunted. “Ye may nae have to. Come back with us to Scotland. Me keep is a comfortable place, every bit as comfortable as this house. We have the best healers; I personally ken many of them. They’d take a good look at ye and see if anything can be done.”
Helena gave a soft, hopeful gasp.
Lady Pilbury’s hand lifted to her mouth, shaking. “Well, I… I have been seen by a great many doctors,” she stammered.
Hunter shrugged his wide shoulders. “I’m sure. So ye ken that there’s nothing further English physicians can do for ye. Give the Scottish ones a try.”
“I couldnae possibly.”
“Why nae?” he countered. “What else will ye do? Sit here and wait to die? Have ye ever been to Scotland before?”
Lady Pilbury gnawed on her lower lip. “Only the Lowlands, when I was a girl. I suppose… I suppose it would be good to have a way to pass the time. This house, this room…” she trailed off, clutching at the sheets.
“It’s always been a home to me, but lately it has felt more like a prison than anything else.
Oh, my dear.” She reached out a thin hand to Daphne.
“I don’t mean to be rude about the care you give me.
I adore you, and of course I adore Willow, but…
well, perhaps a little trip would do me good. ”
Daphne moved wordlessly to Lady Pilbury’s bedside and took her hand in hers. Out of habit, she wrapped both of her hands around the old woman’s fingers, trying to rub some warmth into them.
“That’s the way, Edith,” Helena whispered encouragingly. “One last adventure. Ye and me. What have ye to lose?”
“I’ll do it,” Lady Pilbury answered decisively. “I’ll go with you. Oh, but Daphne…”
“Yer companion is welcome to come too,” Hunter said sweetly. “And her daughter. Bring whatever servants and friends ye like. We can accommodate them all.”
Lady Pilbury turned to Daphne with a widening smile. “What do you say, my dear? Will you come?”
“Say aye, Mama!” Willow hissed, her eyes round at the prospect of an adventure.
Daphne stared down into two earnest faces, and knew right then and there that she could not refuse.
“Of course,” she managed weakly.
Lady Pilbury beamed, and Willow clapped her hands, nearly jumping with excitement.
Lady Pilbury turned to her and winked. “Better go and start packing your things, Willow! Your Mama and I are off on an adventure, and you are coming with us!”
Willow scrambled off the bed and sprinted out of the room. She slowed just a little as she passed Hunter, casting a quick, curious look up at him. He looked back, his expression revealing nothing.
“I wonder, Daphne, could you make a start on packing my things, too?” Lady Pilbury enquired.
There was a glint in her eyes now that hadn’t been there before. She lifted her hands self-consciously to her hair, tucked neatly under a nightcap, and patted a few stray locks into place.
“Aye, of course,” Daphne responded, before slipping out of the room.
At least, she tried to slip away. Hunter stepped in front of her just as she reached the door. A quick glance over her shoulder revealed the two older women already deep in conversation, chattering excitedly like girls and not looking at her at all.
“Looks like ye are having a little adventure of yer own,” Hunter remarked, offering a thin smile.
She sniffed. “Well, if Scottish healers can do Lady Pilbury any good, it’s a risk worth taking.”
“For her? Or for ye?”
She ignored his question. “Let me make something clear.”
“I’m all ears, lass.”
She lifted a finger and jabbed it into his chest. His expression darkened, but he made no attempt to slap away her hand or move away at all. He just stayed still, watching her with those sharp eyes that missed nothing.
“Make no mistake,” she muttered darkly. “Just because we’re coming with ye to yer keep doesnae mean that we’ll follow any other orders ye give.”
He gave a low chuckle and pushed her finger away, his own long fingers briefly curling around her hand. Warmth spread across her skin, and she felt her breath catch in her throat.
Hopefully, he hadn’t noticed.
“We’ll see, lass. We’ll see.”