Chapter 28
Dougal had everything planned.
He decided he was going to kill the man who had dared to try to take his daughter from him, but when he arrived at Anderson Castle, he found a man unprepared for war.
They were shown into the great hall of Castle Lawson, seat of Clan Lawson since Elsie's own grandfather held it, the stone walls hung with tapestries gone dull with age and dust. The servant led them into the great hall of Castle Lawson without ceremony, a few guards watching warily but making no move to stop them.
Angus was in mourning.
Stephen stood by Dougal’s side, a hand on his shoulder. “Am I truly seeing what I think I’m seeing?” he asked.
Dougal wasn’t sure how to respond. All he could do was nod.
This was not the Angus he remembered from seven years ago. This was not the man who had consistently accused him of killing Elsie. This man was something else entirely.
“Ye tried to kill yer own granddaughter,” Dougal spat.
Angus glanced at him, but it seemed as if he were looking right through him. “Nay, I wouldnae do such a thing, but I understand why ye think so.”
Dougal laughed bitterly. “Ye expect me to believe ye after everything ye have done?”
“I willnae admit to something I didnae do, but I am guilty. Guilty of caring more for me honor than me daughter,” Angus rasped. “And for that, I am sorry. I want to put this behind us. Let us sign a peace treaty. Perhaps I can even meet the girl.”
Stephen’s jaw dropped. “Me Laird?—”
Dougal shot him a look. “Me man-at-arms has concerns, as do I, which I’m sure ye can understand.”
Angus nodded. “But ken that I didnae poison the child. I would never do such a thing.”
“I daenae want to believe ye. How did ye even find out what happened?”
“Servants talk.” It was as good an explanation as any.
Dougal hated the fact that he was starting to believe him. The man had done nothing but lie for years, deluding himself into believing something untrue. But the devastation in his eyes alone made Dougal think he might be telling the truth.
“But do ye believe me?” Angus asked.
“Aye, and that means someone in me castle tried to kill me daughter.”
That frightened Dougal more than if Angus had done it. Angus being the culprit made sense. As twisted as his reasoning was, Dougal understood why he would take such measures. But what reason would someone in his own castle have to poison his daughter?
They must have done it to get to him. He had made his fair share of enemies over the years, and one of them was living under his roof.
The thought angered him such that his fists clenched at his sides.
“We will leave ye for now,” he muttered, turning to leave.
“Does that mean ye accept the treaty?” Angus called after him.
Dougal didn’t say anything. He just kept walking, not trusting himself to speak until he had considered everything.
“Dougal,” Stephen muttered.
“When we get outside,” Dougal hissed.
Even if Angus was willing to sign a peace treaty, Dougal wasn’t going to talk in his castle. Anyone could be listening.
Stephen found Dougal in his tent that night, having ridden hard for two days only to find their campaign unraveling in ways neither of them had expected.
Dougal had expected Angus to put up a fight, but the man had done the exact opposite. He had proposed to sign a peace treaty.
Had someone told him this was what Angus planned to do, he would have laughed right in their face. The Angus he knew and remembered would never propose a peace treaty, especially not after blaming him for Elsie’s death for years. His rage had been too great, or so Dougal had thought.
He wasn’t sure what to believe anymore. It was like everything had been turned upside down in less than a week, and the blame lay with Angus, treaty or no treaty.
“Ye’re quiet,” Stephen noted, settling onto the stool across from him. “I expected ye to be sharpening yer blade, nae staring into the fire like a man lost in his thoughts.”
“I daenae ken what to make of what Angus said to me.”
“Ye believe him.” It wasn’t a question. Stephen had known him long enough to read the answer in his silence.
“I daenae want to believe him.” Dougal dragged a hand down his face. “A man like Angus showing up at me gates demanding blood one week and weeping over his own failures the next? It doesnae sit right with me.”
“But ye believe him regardless.”
Dougal exhaled slowly. “Aye, I do.”
“Why?”
“Because I’ve seen grief before, and I’ve seen men fake it, and what I saw on Angus’s face today wasnae fake.
” He stared into the flames. “He said that he cared more for his honor than for Elsie. That he drove her to the choices she made, same as I did in me own way. He asked to meet Lily, Stephen. Asked it like a man who’s spent nearly eight years imagining what he lost, nae like a man plotting to steal her away. ”
Stephen was quiet for a long time. “If Angus isnae behind the poisoning…”
Dougal’s jaw tightened, the full weight of the realization settling over him like a boulder. “It means someone in me own castle tried to kill me daughter. Someone I trust. Someone who walks me halls every day, who’s nae stranger but one of our own.”
Stephen’s jaw set. He was as angry as Dougal was. He had been there since Dougal brought Lily home and cared for her. He even considered her his niece. If something happened to her, he would be devastated.
“Ye’re certain.”
“I’m certain enough.” Dougal’s voice was hard, cold in a way Stephen recognized from years on the battlefield together.
“I will offer Angus peace. A treaty and a chance to meet Lily when the time is right, and she’s ready for it.
He accepted without hesitation. A guilty man doesnae accept peace so readily, nae when he could have pressed his advantage. ”
“So we ride home.”
It was not something Dougal would have thought he’d be considering, but everything had changed now.
“We ride home.” Dougal rose, reaching for his cloak. “And I find the bastard who tried to take me daughter from me, and I make certain they never draw breath to try it again.”
“Dougal.” Stephen’s voice carried a warning. “Ye cannae go tearing through the castle and accusing every soul within it. Ye’ll need proof, nae only suspicion, or ye’ll turn yer own household against ye.”
“I ken.” Dougal’s expression didn’t soften. “But I’ll find the proof, even if I must question every servant and guard meself. Lily nearly died. I willnae rest until I ken who’s responsible.”
“Aye, well.” Stephen swung himself up onto his horse, some of the grimness easing from his face for the first time since they’d ridden out. “I’ll nae deny that I’m glad to be heading home to see her. The lassie has a way of making a man forget the whole world’s gone mad.”
“That she does.”
“Nearly lost me mind when I heard she’d fallen ill.” Stephen shook his head. “Ye ken I love that girl like she were me own kin.”
“I ken it well.” Dougal mounted beside him, something in his chest loosening slightly. “She asks after ye more than she asks after most, truth be told. Wanted to ken if Uncle Stephen would bring her a ribbon from wherever we’d gone.”
Stephen laughed, the sound short and genuine. “Did she now? I’ll have to find her one, then, will I nae? Cannae disappoint the lass.”
“Ye spoil her rotten.”
“Aye, and ye daenae?” Stephen arched an eyebrow. “I’ve seen ye deny that child nothing since the day ye brought her home, Dougal. Daenae lecture me on spoiling her.”
“That’s different.”
“Is it?”
Dougal said nothing, only urged his horse forward, though the corner of his mouth had betrayed him with the ghost of a smile.
It would be good to see his daughter again.