Chapter 31
Everyone moved inside into the main hall.
“Now, let’s dance.”
The lessons with Freya had half paid off. Skye managed not to stumble, but if she had, Dougal would have caught her. He would have looked down at her with that charming, roughish smile that had captured her heart from the first time she had seen him at Castle Muir.
This time, no one dared to whisper behind his back. They were in his castle, invited to celebrate Lily. There were stares, yes, but they were different this time.
Skye could feel eyes on them as they danced. She had missed him so much, but hadn’t had a chance to tell him properly, since he had arrived after the guests.
His palm settled warm on her waist, sure even through the fabric of her gown, and the tension between them was so thick that she could hardly draw breath, let alone remember a single step Freya had taught Lily that week.
“Ye’re doing it wrong,” she whispered, missing her turn and nearly treading on his boot for the second time in as many minutes.
It was bold of her to assume that Dougal was doing something wrong. She was the one who needed a guide on how to dance.
Briefly, her foot caught in the skirt of her dress, and she did stumble this time. Dougal steadied her, the corners of his mouth quirking into a smile.
“I’m nae doing anything. Ye’re the one fighting the music instead of following it, same as ye fight everything else put in front of ye.”
Skye frowned. How dare he insinuate such a thing? But when she opened her mouth to argue, the words died on her lips.
“I did warn ye, before agreeing to any of this, that I couldnae dance a step to save me life.”
“Ye did warn me. I didnae listen, just as ye didnae listen to me. I think it’s fair that way.
” His mouth curved, though his eyes stayed serious, fixed on her in a way that made the rest of the courtyard blur soft at the edges—the torches, the fiddler, even Lily spinning somewhere nearby with her skirts flying and her ribbons catching the firelight.
“I missed ye, lass. More than I ken how to express in words. I thought of little else the entire ride home.”
She wanted to believe him. That was the problem. She wanted to believe every word that came out of his mouth these days, no matter how many times she reminded herself of the bargain they’d struck.
Lily had missed him something terrible, crying for him every night.
Skye never let it show that she missed him because once she allowed herself to miss him properly, tears would follow, and there would be no stopping them at that point.
She did not know if she would be able to stop until he came back to the castle safe and sound.
He had promised them both. He would never break a promise to Lily, but in war, there was always a chance. Men in her family had fallen in battle, leaving their wives and daughters heartbroken. She did not want to experience that.
“Ye couldnae have thought of little else. Ye were meant to be settling a war, Dougal, nae mooning over a lass ye left behind.”
“Aye, and even then, ye were at the forefront of me mind the whole while, distracting me from matters that should have had me full attention.”
She shook her head, trying to focus on the steps and failing, her feet betraying her with every turn she attempted.
“I cannae understand half of what happened while ye were gone, if I’m being honest with ye.
Angus arriving here as though he were some honored guest, welcomed through the gates with open arms after everything he did and threatened…
Ye speaking of treaties and poison in the same breath, as though the two belonged comfortably together…
Ye’ll have to explain it to me properly before the night is through, because right now none of it makes a lick of sense to me. ”
“I ken it doesnae. I’ll explain what I can, lass. I give ye me word on that.”
“But nae all of it.”
“Nae all of it. Nae yet, at any rate.” His grip tightened on her waist, just slightly, his gaze flicking past her shoulder toward the crowd gathered near the hearth and narrowing on one face she hadn’t noticed before.
“There’s someone here tonight who kens more than he rightly ought to about what happened to Lily.
I mean to see the look on his face the moment Angus walks through the door as a guest rather than the enemy he expects. ”
"How could ye possibly ken that?"
"Stephen marked him asking too many questions while I was away.
Which servants tended Lily, what the healer had said, whether Angus had been the one behind it.
An innocent man grieves and worries. He doesnae interrogate half the household for details he's got no business wanting.
" His jaw tightened. "I mean to see the look on his face the moment Angus enters this room. "
Skye wished he had given her prior notice. She wished he had told her about his plan, but he would speak on it no further.
The Great Hall had gone quiet, the pipers lowering their instruments mid-note when Dougal raised his hand.
Councilman Ewan stepped closer, beckoning them over to a corner. When he spoke, his voice pitched low so only Dougal and Skye could hear. “Ye cannae mean to welcome him under yer roof,” he hissed. “He tried to poison yer daughter, and ye’re offering him wine?”
“I mean to watch him,” Dougal said evenly, though his jaw was tight as a drawn bowstring.
“Watch him? He should be hanging from the gatehouse by now.”
Dougal did not answer right away, letting the silence stretch.
Then Dougal spoke, careful and slow, as though testing the weight of each word.
“Strange thing. The healer came to me this morning. Said it wasnae poison at all. Some fever going around the area, affecting half the bairns.” He watched Ewan close.
“No poison. No plot. Just bad luck and worse timing.”
Ewan’s mouth opened and then closed. “But the tremors, the color of her skin… That was surely—” He stopped himself a breath too late.
Dougal’s eyes hardened. “Aye, that’s what I thought.”
Skye’s heart started to hammer in her chest. Her mind was spinning. “Dougal?—”
He lifted his finger to his lips. “Nay, lass, just listen. Everything will be explained.” He turned his gaze back to Ewan. “Councilman, ye seem very convinced that Laird Lawson tried to poison me daughter.”
Ewan swallowed, beads of sweat forming on his brow. “Ye told me yerself that ye believed him to be the culprit!”
“And as I told ye, the healer said it was nothing more than a fever. Yet ye seem to be convinced it’s something more. Why is that?”
More sweat beaded on Ewan’s brow, and he dabbed at his face. All eyes were on him now.
Skye covered her mouth, forcing herself not to utter a word. Whatever Dougal had discovered, he was about to reveal it. Nothing was going to stop him.
Had she been wrong? Had Angus just been nothing more than a grieving father who hadn’t tried to poison his own granddaughter?
It was difficult to wrap her mind around after their encounter. She remembered the anger in his eyes when she had confronted him. But when she thought back carefully, she realized he had never shown any hatred towards Lily. There had been confusion and apprehension, yes, but never hatred.
He had been grappling with the fact that he had a granddaughter, whether she was a bastard or not. With the fact that he had lost his daughter because of his own actions, and if he were not careful, he would lose Lily too.
“I ken nothing!” Ewan sputtered.
Dougal tilted his head to the side. “Ye seem very nervous for a man who kens nothing. Perhaps ye should confess. I might go easy on ye.”
“I didnae do anything!” Ewan shouted, backing up until the guards had cornered him, refusing to let him escape.
Angus stepped forward. “Councilman, were ye behind me granddaughter’s poisoning? How could ye hurt a child?”
The dam finally burst.
“Fine, I’ll admit it! I threatened a kitchen maid to add the poison to Lily’s dish, but I did it for ye, me Laird! Ye shouldnae spend time raising a bastard, when ye should be marrying and producing heirs.”
Dougal drew his sword, but the man was not done. He bared his teeth at Skye.
“And ye? What are ye doing, caring for the child instead of sending it away to have yer own? Ye’re nae worthy of becoming our Lady!”
He lunged for Skye. His hand darted for the blade at his belt, but he’d barely touched the hilt before Dougal closed the distance between them. There was no roar, no warning, just a man who had done this before and felt nothing new in doing it again.
Dougal caught his wrist and twisted, the dagger clattering to the stone floor before it ever found its mark.
Ewan cried, more from shock than pain, his other hand scrabbling uselessly against Dougal’s chest. For half a heartbeat their eyes met, and something like a plea flickered across the man’s face.
Dougal didn’t wait for the plea to become words. His blade moved once, low and precise, and Ewan’s breath left him in a wet rush. He sagged forward. Dougal let him fall rather than catch him, stepping back to avoid getting blood on his boots.
The hall held its breath.
Dougal didn’t look down at him. He lifted two fingers, and his guards started to haul the body away without a word, as if such things happened every night. Then he turned slowly, sweeping his gaze over every face in the hall.
“Does anyone else share his opinion?”
Silence.
Eyes dropped to the floor, to tankards, to anywhere but him.
“In that case…” He nodded to the musicians, who scrambled to lift their pipes again, the tune stumbling back to life. He then crossed to Skye, bent close to her ear, and murmured, “I want to see ye when the cèilidh is over.”
“Dougal—”
“After the cèilidh,” he purred, his breath tickling her ear.
She shivered, watching him walk off towards Stephen.
She shivered, watching him walk off toward Stephen, who stood waiting near the edge of the hall.
Dougal reached him and stopped, leaning in close, his voice too low for her to catch.
The two of them were talking to each other, likely about what had happened.
Freya sidled up to her, linking their arms. “Are ye all right?”
Skye nodded, but it was difficult to hide the tremors racking through her. “I didnae ken, Freya. It’s quite a shock.”
“Dougal clearly cares for Lily and ye.”
Her cheeks heated. “Freya?—”
“Oh, daenae try to deny it. It’s obvious from the way ye blush like a maiden.”
“He killed a man tonight,” Skye said in a low voice, though there was no bite in it.
“Aye, to protect ye and the bairn.” Freya’s eyes softened. “There’s a difference between a monster and a man who’ll do monstrous things for the people he loves, Skye. Ye ken that better than most.”
Skye said nothing, but she didn’t argue either, and that, more than anything, seemed to satisfy her sister.
It was not the first time Dougal had killed someone to protect her, and she doubted that it would be the last.