Chapter 22
Dougal was going mad, his thoughts consumed by Skye. Never did a moment pass by that he didn’t think of her. The way she laughed, the way she smiled, the way she cared for Lily as if she were her own.
Right after that dinner where he nearly broke her rule, he ducked outside to train. He needed to work off his frustration, and what better way than to fight?
The distraction was exactly what he needed. He didn’t hear Stephen approaching or calling out to him. He was far too focused on swinging his sword as he sparred against one of the younger guards.
Stephen drew to a stop two feet away, and one look at his face was enough to make Dougal lower his sword mid-swing. It was rare for his man-at-arms to look so rattled, for he usually remained calm even through the most dire of situations.
Dougal dismissed the guard with a wave and set his sword against the fence.
“Ye’ve a look about ye,” he noted. “What is it?”
“Angus Lawson.” Stephen kept his voice low, glancing over his shoulder as though the man himself might be lurking behind the stable wall. “He’s here, me Laird. Rode in nae ten minutes past with a handful of guards.”
Dougal’s blood ran cold.
“Here? At the gates?”
Elsie’s father had always been a thorn in his side. The man blamed him for Elsie’s death, refusing to believe anything except the rumors that persisted around her disappearance after the fire.
It would have been easy to end the rumors, but doing so would mean tarnishing Elsie’s memory and risk putting Lily in danger.
Angus could never know about her existence, or else he would never stop pursuing her because of her connection to him.
Only God knew what he would do once he had the girl in his clutches.
He might kill her if it meant not bringing shame to Elsie’s memory.
This was exactly why he had been against letting Lily out too often. It put her at risk.
“Aye, he is at the gates,” Stephen confirmed with a wince. “I thought ye ought to ken right away, given the circumstances.”
“Why is he here? Why now, Stephen? It’s been seven years.”
Something had changed, and Dougal had a feeling that it had to do with Lily.
“He said it was about the child and that he means to speak with ye, and willnae leave until he does.” Stephen hesitated, and that told Dougal more than the words themselves.
“He’s got a look about him, Dougal. The kind of look a man gets when he’s finally found something he’s been hunting for a long while. ”
“He found out about Lily.” Dougal hated saying it out loud. It made it too real.
The question was who had told him. Had he hired the wrong people? He made sure to be careful, but it seemed he had made a mistake along the way that cost him his daughter’s safety, the very thing that mattered to him most.
“Dougal—” Stephen started to say but Dougal cut him off.
“Damn it all.” Dougal dragged a hand down his face, the mask shifting slightly beneath his palm. “Seven years, Stephen. Seven years of silence, and now this. I had begun to believe that he might have left us alone for good.”
“I thought death would take him,” Stephen muttered.
“Death couldnae be bothered, apparently.”
Stephen said nothing, which was answer enough.
“Where is he?”
“The gates. I told him to wait.” He fell into step beside Dougal as he started walking, sword still in hand. “Dougal…”
“What?”
“Whatever this is, ye cannae let him see ye rattled. He’ll consider it a weakness, and a man like him will pounce wherever he smells weakness.”
It was the truth, but Dougal didn’t like hearing it.
He was not going to let himself be rattled simply because Angus had shown up at his gates, demanding an audience. That wasn’t the way to handle the man.
“I ken how to handle Angus.”
“Aye, I would never accuse ye of nae being able to handle him.” Stephen’s voice dropped lower still. “Where’s Lily?”
The question stopped Dougal cold in the middle of the path.
“With Skye. In the gardens, chasing that blasted goat, last I saw.”
“Ye should have someone bring her inside. Quietly. Before Angus catches sight of her.”
“He willnae get near her,” Dougal growled. “Over me dead body will he even lay an eye on her.”
“That isnae what I said.”
Dougal exhaled sharply and turned toward the maid hovering uselessly by the stairwell. “Go find Lily. Bring her inside, and daenae let her wander back out, whatever she tells ye.”
The maid scurried off to do his bidding.
Stephen caught his arm before he could continue toward the gates. “Dougal. If he kens the truth, what will ye do?”
It was a question that had plagued Dougal for seven years. He had always known deep down that this day would come. That one day, Angus would show up, having somehow found out about Lily.
He had done so much to protect her. Had it all been for nothing?
His eyes were hard, unreadable, even without the mask concealing half his face. “Whatever I must, Stephen. Lily isnae leaving this castle. Nae for him. Nae for anyone. She is me daughter. She doesnae belong to Angus and never will.”
He didn’t wait for a reply. He strode toward the courtyard, his jaw set, every step measured despite the storm building beneath his ribs. Seven years of silence had bought him nothing in the end, only time. And now that time had run out.
Whatever Angus had come to say, Dougal meant to hear it standing tall, mask in place, giving nothing away. He would protect Lily with his last breath, whatever the cost, whatever truth finally came to light.
He stepped into the courtyard, his chin high, his mask fixed firmly in place. Angus stood waiting near his horse, older than Dougal remembered, grey threading through what had once been dark hair, but his eyes were the same. Hard. Unforgiving.
“Angus.” Dougal stopped a careful distance away. “It’s been a long while.”
The sight of the man made his blood boil, but he pushed down his anger.
“Seven years.” Angus’s voice was rough with what might have been grief or rage. “Seven years I’ve mourned me daughter and buried an empty coffin, and let ye stand at her memorial and lie to me face.”
“I never lied about?—”
“Daenae.” Angus’s hand curled at his side. “I ken the truth now. All of it. Elsie didnae die in that fire. She died giving birth, and ye’ve kept her bairn hidden away in this castle for seven years, letting me believe that me only daughter was ash and bone.”
Someone had told him about Lily. For years, Dougal had been so careful. He had made sure that every servant knew as little about her as possible. The only rule he had was to never speak of her existence.
He had not hired new help for years because he was fearful of hiring someone who could not be trusted. But a year ago, two elderly servants had passed, forcing him to hire new ones. It must have been one of them.
They would pay for betraying his trust and putting Lily in danger, but for now, he had to deal with Angus and his demands.
“Who told ye that?” he gritted out.
“Does it matter?” Angus took a step closer. “I want to see her. I want to see me grandchild.”
“Ye’ve no right to her.”
"No right?" Angus's laugh was bitter. "I've had men watching this castle for months, ever since the first whispers reached me that ye were hiding something behind these walls. Some of me men saw her in the gardens and said she was the spitting image of me daughter. I want to see for meself."
“I raised her.” Dougal’s voice lowered to a dangerous growl. “I fed her, protected her, held her the day she was born while her maither bled out on the floor. That’s a claim, Angus. A claim that a man who hasnae laid eyes on her once cannae challenge.”
“Because I didnae ken she existed!”
“Dougal?”
Both men turned.
Skye stood at the edge of the courtyard, one hand hanging at her side, Lily nowhere in sight behind her, tucked safely away as Dougal had ordered.
“Who is he?” she asked carefully, though she had already found the answer in the older man’s face, the line of his jaw, the color of his eyes. Lily’s eyes.
“Skye, go inside.”
Angus’s gaze flicked to her, sharpening. “And who might ye be to me granddaughter?”
“Someone who loves her,” Skye said simply, without hesitation. “Which is more than I can say for ye.”
“Stay out of it, lass.” Angus rounded on Dougal. “For seven years ye kept me granddaughter from me. Ashamed, were ye?”
Dougal held his ground. “I kent what ye’d say about her. That she’s a bastard. I’ll nae have that said about her before she’s old enough to understand it.”
“So ye decided for both of us.” Angus’s jaw tightened. “Ye made me a stranger to spare her a word I’d never have spoken.”
“Ye daenae ken that.”
“And ye never gave me the chance to prove it.”
Skye stepped closer, her chin lifting stubbornly. “If this concerns Lily, then it concerns me.”
“Ye daenae understand,” Angus hissed.
She glared at him. “There is nothing to understand. Ye came here with guards at yer back, demanding a child ye’ve never met, from a man ye’ve hated for years. That doesnae sound like love to me. That sounds like a man wanting to win something.”
“Skye,” Dougal warned, though something in his chest had eased slightly at her presence.
“I willnae apologize for saying it,” she said, not looking away from Angus. “If ye want to meet yer granddaughter and get to ken her, then earn it. Daenae storm a man’s gates and demand she be handed over like property.”
Angus stared at her for a long moment, something shifting behind his cold eyes. “Ye’re bold, lass.”
“Aye,” she said. “I am.”
A hand closed round her shoulder before she’d finished speaking, hauling her back a step, and the world seemed to slow for the space of a breath.
Dougal moved before he’d decided to, his sword hissing free of its scabbard, the sound cutting clean through Angus’s raised voice and the murmurs in the yard. He didn’t shout a warning. He didn’t need to, because the guard who had touched Skye saw his face and knew too late what he’d done.
He drove the blade beneath the man’s ribs and clamped his other hand on Skye’s shoulder, pulling her free before the guard’s grip had even fully loosened.
The guard staggered backward with a grunt, his eyes wide, his hand pressing against his wound as if he might hold the damage in by sheer will alone. He went down hard on one knee, then the other, and Dougal stepped over him without so much as a glance downward.
Then he looked back up at Angus, baring his teeth.
“Daenae touch her,” he warned.
Angus stepped back, his lips thinning. “This isnae over yet, Dougal.”
“Do ye want war? Because if ye trespass again, there will be,” Dougal snarled.
One of Angus's men, pale and shaken by what he'd just witnessed, hurried to bring his laird's horse forward, the reins trembling in his grip
Angus mounted his horse without another word, gathered his men, and rode hard through the gates, leaving the fallen guard behind in the dirt. Only once the thunder of hooves had faded did Dougal turn, sword still in hand, his chest heaving from exertion.
“Skye.” He crossed to her in two strides, his hands hovering over her shoulders as though he didn’t trust himself to touch her, not yet. “Are ye all right?”
“I’m fine, truly.” Her voice wavered.
“Ye’re shaking.” He took her hand gently and turned it over, searching for some mark, some proof of harm he could point to and rage against. “Skye, look at me. Tell me the truth.”
She trembled. “I am a little shaken up, but I am telling ye the truth. I am fine.”
Dougal wanted to believe her, but he couldn’t get the image of her being manhandled by another man out of his head.
“He touched ye.” The words came out low. “I saw his hand on ye, and I—” He stopped and took a deep breath. “I’ll nae let any man lay his hands on ye. Nae Angus’s guard, nae anyone. Do ye understand me?”
“Dougal.” Skye said his name gently. She laid a hand against his chest, as if trying to steady him. “I’m here. I’m nae hurt.”
“Ye could have been.” He finally dropped his sword and drew her against him, one arm banding round her, his chin coming to rest atop her head as though he needed to feel her whole, breathing. “I daenae ken what I’d have done if he’d…”
He couldn’t finish. He didn’t have to.
Skye leaned into him, and he felt the last tremor work its way out of her. “Ye frightened me more. The way ye moved…”
“I’ll move a great deal faster than that, the next time someone thinks to touch what’s mine.
” He pressed a kiss to her hair, some of the tension leaving his shoulders.
“Come. I’ll see ye settled, and then I will go speak with me maither.
She’ll want to ken that everything’s all right, and I’d rather she hear it from me than from some panicked servant. ”