Chapter 18
“Mama? Mama. Are ye awake?”
Daphne groaned, pushing her face deeper into the pillow. “It’s too early, lassie. Settle down, eh? Let’s sleep a bit longer.”
“The sun is up. River wants to go running,” Willow insisted, sounding petulant. “Mama.”
Daphne cracked open one eye. She’d gone to sleep immediately after the little supper was over.
For some reason, she found herself exhausted after meeting Hunter’s sister and brother-in-law.
They’d been very polite, but she caught Lady Skye’s eyes lingering on her, thoughtful and knowing.
The sort of woman who couldn’t be easily fooled.
She’d looked at Willow too, glancing at her and then at Hunter, her eyes narrowed.
Usually, back in England, Daphne would get up at dawn. That gave her time to dress, get Willow ready for the day, and break her fast. But here, she could sleep for as long as she liked. Until now, she’d woken up at dawn, as usual, but this was the first time she’d been able to sleep.
“Why daenae ye go and play by yerself, then?” she mumbled, turning onto her side, back toward the window.
Judging by the light streaming in, she guessed it was about eight o’clock in the morning. So, she’d already slept at least two hours past her usual rising time. Two and a half hours, more likely.
Willow let out a long-suffering sigh. “All right, Mama.” She leaned forward, pressing a clumsy kiss to Daphne’s temple.
Smiling, Daphne reached up, sleepily patting her cheek.
“Ye be careful, aye? Daenae stray out of the keep, and daenae go into the servants’ quarters.
I ken ye used to go into the kitchen back at home, but this is a bigger place, and the cooks daenae ken ye.
A kitchen can be dangerous, with boiling water and sharp knives, so steer clear, aye? ”
“Aye, Mama.” Willow began to scramble off the bed, then paused, turning back. “Mama?”
“Hm?”
“Is this our home now?”
Daphne cracked open her eyes. “I daenae ken, love. Do ye like it here?”
Willow nodded. “I do. And River likes it, too.”
“I’m glad.”
At that, the little girl scrambled off the bed. Daphne heard her patter across the floor, before the door creaked open and shut.
Gradually, she drifted back off to sleep. She had just reached the edge of sleep, where the world around her didn’t seem quite real, when she was shocked awake.
Somebody was in the room with her.
A presence stood over her, very close to the bed, watching her.
Fear skittered down her spine, making her freeze.
What should I do?
She tried to get her bearings in order to decide what to do next. Was there a weapon within reach? Could she fling herself backward? Or—
“Ye Gods,” came an amused, familiar voice. “Ye always were a lazy wee lass.”
Daphne’s eyes flew open, and she bolted upright.
“Ceana,” she breathed.
Her sister stood over her, grinning widely. She wore a fine dress in a tartan that Daphne vaguely recognized as McKane tartan.
“Good morning, Daphne,” Ceana laughed, tears welling up in her eyes.
Just like that, Daphne remembered that she hadn’t seen her sister in over five years. With a choked-off laugh, she scrambled out of bed, nearly tripping over her own nightgown, and they both threw their arms around each other.
“What are ye doing here?” she squealed.
Ceana cackled. “What a fine welcome! I’m here for Lady Helena’s cèilidh, of course. I’m Lady McKane, remember? Of course I’m invited. Lady Helena told me to come early. She wrote to me and said that ye were here, so of course I couldnae be kept away.”
“God, the cèilidh,” Daphne groaned. “I forgot all about it. Here, sit down.”
She’d meant that they should sit by the fireside, very civilly, like proper ladies, but Ceana jumped up on the bed, tucking her feet underneath her as if they were girls again.
Giggling, Daphne joined her.
“It’s been so long, Ceana,” she breathed. “I wish we could have seen each other before.”
“Aye, I ken. I wanted to come down, but ye chose to live so bloody far away!”
“Ceana! Language!”
“Settle down. I’m a married woman with a keep of me own now, so I can swear if I want. Oh! Ye must meet me Oscar.”
Daphne grinned. “I remember waiting on a knife’s edge for yer next letter when ye were courting him. If ye can call it courting, of course.”
“Oi!” Ceana cried, nudging her. “Enough of the rudeness! Anyway, Oscar is here, and he’s scarcely less excited to see ye. And Willow! Oh, I cannae wait to see her! I bet ye have told her terrible stories about her Auntie Ceana.”
Daphne nodded sagely. “She might think that ye are the bogeyman.”
Ceana nudged her, laughing. “So, let me tell ye what has happened here in the last year or so.”
Daphne settled down to listen for a while. Ceana was always good at talking. Both of them were, but Ceana definitely had the edge when it came to chatter.
Eventually, she ran out of things to say, and they sat in silence for a few minutes, shoulder to shoulder.
“What made ye come back, Daffie?” Ceana whispered.
Daphne bit her lower lip, considering her answer.
Ceana didn’t know about Willow’s parentage.
She knew about the baby, of course. She’d always known.
Daphne wouldn’t keep a secret like that from her own sister.
But that was all Ceana knew. There was no way that she hadn’t wondered, of course, but such questions didn’t sit well in letters.
She’d probably been waiting for them to meet face to face, and as the years flew by, the questions probably just faded into the background.
“I didnae mean to come back,” Daphne murmured. “I cannae stay. It’s too dangerous.”
“Dangerous?”
“I offended Laird Gilmore. He’ll take his revenge on me, and maybe on me family.”
Ceana was quiet for a while.
“Laird Gilmore is married,” she said. “Happily. Daenae take offence, but I doubt that he’s thought of ye in a long while.”
Daphne bit her lower lip until it stung. “Really? There’s nay danger? No threat?”
“Nae from him. I keep forgetting that ye have missed out what happened. I’ll have to catch ye up soon. Ye will be surprised, I can tell ye that.”
“The Wolf…”
Ceana sat up. “What about the Wolf?”
“Daenae ye remember Ma’s tears? How she told us that he comes for eldest daughters? That’s me.”
“I didnae forget the stories she told us, and I daenae doubt that the Wolf was real. But he’s nae struck in decades. There was a worry a little while ago, when two women went missing from the latest Leanan Festival.”
Daphne blinked. “I heard of that. There was talk that it was the Wolf.”
“I ken. But now it turns out that the women werenae kidnapped at all. They ran away. Together,” Ceana added pointedly.
“They were always close, apparently. There was nay hint that they planned to run away, nae until their families arranged marriages for them. The women didnae want to marry, it seems. They’ve gone to the Lowlands, last I heard, or perhaps even to England and beyond.
I doubt they’ll come back, and I’m sure that they’re happy enough. No Wolf in sight.”
Daphne bit the inside of her cheek, mulling that over.
Laird Gilmore isnae resentful. There’s nay grudge. Nay vengeance to fear. Nay Wolf hovering on the horizon. Does that mean I am safe now?
“Daphne?” Ceana prompted, a crease of worry between her eyebrows. “Ye arenae saying anything.”
“I… I daenae ken what to say,” Daphne confessed. “I suppose I daenae have to go back to England. I didnae think that I would stay after Lady Pilbury died, but I… I daenae ken what life I’ll have here, either.”
“Ye could get married. Oscar has some decent friends that ye might like.”
She shook her head. “I daenae think so. I never imagined marriage in me future. And now that I have Willow… well, few men would marry a woman who is raising another man’s child.”
I’m nae sure that Hunter would let me, either.
She wasn’t sure where that thought came from. It made her jolt and frown, a little angry at herself, but it persisted. She imagined trying to tell Hunter that she was marrying somebody else. How would he take it?
It is none of his business. If he willnae tell me why he made that vow, I willnae marry him.
Of course, the idea of marrying someone else turned her stomach. She had no intention of marrying. She and Willow had gotten on fine before, and they’d manage now. Everything would be fine.
She glanced over to find Ceana looking at her, her expression thoughtful.
“Yer wee lass, Willow, was with Lady Helena and Laird MacCrimmon when we got here,” she noted.
“She’d just left yer room. I daenae think she kent who I was.
Well, how could she? She seemed to want to play with Laird MacCrimmon.
It’s surprising that a man like him takes time out of his day to attend to a wee lassie. ”
Daphne swallowed, glancing sharply at her. “What do ye mean?”
Ceana gave her a long, hard look. “I noticed the resemblance, Daphne. Now, ye daenae have to tell me, but ye ken I have always wanted to ken. Who is Willow’s father?”
Daphne closed her eyes. She considered lying, but only for a split second. She’d never lied to her sister, not ever. It probably wouldn’t even work.
“Hunter is Willow’s father,” she whispered.
Ceana sucked in a breath, her eyes widening. “Willow is Laird MacCrimmon’s heir?”
“Hush, Ceana! It’s meant to be a secret. Did ye ken about his vow?”
“What vow?”
“He swore nae to marry or have children. Willow isnae meant to exist. He willnae tell me why he made the vow. Do ye ken why?”
Ceana shook her head, frowning. “I’d tell ye if I did. So, does he ken?”
“Aye.”
“Well, can ye nae wed?”
“Were ye nae listening? He swore nae to. It’s… It’s complicated.”
Ceana thought that over, frowning. “I see,” she uttered. “So, what are ye going to do? Will ye stay, or will ye go? Does Willow ken?”
“Nay, of course nae. She’ll have to be told sooner or later, but… nae yet.”
Ceana nodded. “I understand. Look, ye daenae have to do all this alone, lass. I’m here.”
To her horror, Daphne felt tears prick her eyes, threatening to well up. She sniffled, wiping her nose with the back of her hand.
“Aye, but for how long? Ye have a husband and a clan to run. Ye are a lady, a proper one. I ken ye cannae stay here, Ceana. This is all me fault. I ruined everything. I slept with bloody Laird MacCrimmon and ran off, and now I’ve missed so much of yer life.
I didnae see yer wedding. Ye didnae get to see Willow when she was a baby. I’ve ruined it all.”
“Hey, hey, enough,” Ceana soothed, taking her hand and squeezing it. “Enough talk of ruining everything. Nothing is ruined, do ye hear? We’ll work this out together. And like I said, ye are safe. Nay Wolf, nay angry laird after revenge. Everything is fine.”
Daphne sighed. “It doesnae feel fine.”
Ceana squeezed her hand again. “Let’s just focus on enjoying the cèilidh tomorrow, aye?”
“Aye.”
Pattering feet echoed in the hallway outside. Daphne knew those footsteps better than she knew her own.
“Willow, love,” she called. “Come in here. There’s somebody I want ye to meet.”
The door slowly slid open, revealing Willow standing there, wide-eyed.
“Willow.” Daphne waved her over. “Come and meet yer Auntie Ceana. She’s wanted to meet ye for a long, long time.”
“Good day, Auntie Ceana,” Willow mumbled, dragging the toe of her shoe across the floor. “Would ye like to meet me pet fox, River?”
A slow smile spread across Ceana’s face. “Aye, pet. That would be lovely.”
The Next Day
“It’s too much,” Daphne announced, scowling at her reflection.
“Ye worry too much; that’s all it is,” Ceana sighed.
She was sitting on one of the seats angled toward the fire and had her feet propped up on the opposite chair. Her dress was simple, another McKane tartan gown.
Daphne’s dress felt far too ostentatious. Lady Helena had given it to her. As a present, she said.
It was a blue and yellow striped gown, heavy with embroidery on the skirts and around the bodice.
The embroidery was in a glittering red thread, standing out against the colors.
There was lace at the throat and around the neckline, expensive stuff that Daphne would never have been able to afford herself.
The neckline itself was pretty low, enough that if she didn’t keep tugging it up, it would show the swell of her breasts.
Once again, that would hardly be permitted in England, certainly not for a mere companion. And yet it was the most beautiful dress Daphne had ever worn. It fit her perfectly, tailored to her form.
For the first time in a long time, she was wearing a dress that hadn’t been darned or patched, not even once.
Willow had a new dress too, a pretty little green piece with lace around the hem.
The hem was thoughtfully lifted a few inches higher than normal, so that it wouldn’t drag in the mud.
Her hair had been brushed out and plaited, and a new doll was tucked in the crook of her arm.
River, of course, was curled up on her lap, sleeping.
“Ye look like a princess, Mama!” Willow chirped.
The door opened, and in came Helena and Skye.
Helena gasped, clapping her hands. “Oh, Daphne, ye look beautiful! Does she nae, Skye?”
For a moment, Daphne froze. Her recent experience with young women her age hadn’t been good.
None of Lady Pilbury’s young friends seemed to like her.
When her older friends brought their daughters, the women looked down their noses at her, scowling whenever Lady Pilbury’s back was turned.
It was probably jealousy, if they thought she looked better than them.
Skye only stood there for a moment, eyeing her thoughtfully. Then she nodded approvingly.
“She looks exquisite,” she pronounced. “The dress is perfect, Mother. How do ye like it, Daphne?”
“I like it,” Daphne confessed, “but it feels too fine.”
“Too fine? Why?” Skye asked bluntly.
Daphne cleared her throat, glancing away. “I’ve been a companion for years. Companions are meant to blend into the background. This dress makes me feel very noticeable.”
Skye considered that, pursing her lips. Then she stepped forward, taking an amber pendant on a silver chain out of her pocket.
“This was mine when I was a girl,” she explained.
“I loved it. It was gifted to me by a friend, so I suppose I should pass it on now. Consider it a present.” She looped the chain around Daphne’s neck and fastened it.
Afterward, she glanced up, meeting Daphne’s eyes in the mirror, and gave her a wink.
“Sometimes it’s good to be noticeable, eh? I think it’s yer turn, lass.”
She stepped back, and Daphne inspected her reflection once more with burgeoning confidence.
“Ye are right,” she murmured. “It’s beautiful, this dress. Thank ye, Lady Helena.”
“Think nothing of it. Ye deserve it.”
Willow heaved a sigh, scrambling down from her chair. The fox bounced down after her. “Can we go downstairs now? The Laird said there’d be dancing.”
“Aye, and we’ll dance with ye,” Helena promised, taking the little girl’s hand. “Come on, ladies. Shall we?”