Page 53 of A Virgin for the Icy Laird
If this squalor and hunger were all she and her sister had known, it was a marvel she was still so strong.
He would have liked to see the master hanged for his crimes against the children, but he couldn’t make any hasty decisions without a trial. Justice would be served in due course, and he would enjoy it then.
Hilda watched him with fearful eyes, as though she expected him to punish her too, but he had nothing against her.
“Will ye sit?” he asked.
She started, but made no move to sit.
“I believe I should remain standing, me Laird,” she answered.
“I would rather ye sit.”
She swallowed and sat gingerly across from him on the sofa, folding her hands in her lap in a way that reminded him of Emily.
Adair lifted his hands to his neck to remove his necklace. She watched him carefully as he placed it on the table, her eyes widening when she saw the pendant. Her hand flew to her throat, and she produced an identical pair and placed it beside his.
His eyes widened, and he felt rooted to the spot as he saw the two pendants side by side. Indeed, it was his father’s pendant.
“Where did ye…” he began, but the lump in his throat stole the rest of the words.
“I received it from a lass who used to live here,” she answered softly. “I have worn it since she and her sister left us a few weeks ago.”
Adair picked up the pendants and put them together, the clicking sound making his heart race. The pair had belonged to his parents, but after his mother died birthing Callum, his father gave her pendant to him.
“How did ye meet them?” he asked.
“They came to us as children,” Hilda answered, a wistful look in her eyes. “Such frail things. The man who brought them said he had found them by a crack in the frozen loch and had brought them here so they didnae die. They were half-frozen when they arrived and silent, clutching this between them.”
“What happened then?” he pressed, desperate for more information. “Did he ken who they were? Did the man ken where they came from?”
She shook her head, her eyes wide. He had been unable to keep the desperation out of his voice.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “Please continue.”
“Alright, me Laird.” She nodded.
Her kind grey eyes were warm and filled with understanding, and he understood then that she had cared for Emily and hersister like a mother would. Even he, who had learned to cope with the loss of his mother, found himself wishing he had someone as warm and dependable in his life.
“He kent nothing about them when he brought them, and their clothes, though of fine quality, betrayed nothing,” Hilda elaborated. “We thought that if they were highborn lasses, someone would come for them, but no one ever did.”
Adair motioned for her to continue, barely reining in his emotions.
“I watched the girls grow up for twelve years. The older lass, Emily, often told me about her dreams,” she said. “I have wondered every day about the man who died for them.”
Adair stiffened, knowing he needed to leave now. For the first time in a long time, he had a full picture of what had happened that fateful day.
“I need ye to do something for me, Hilda,” he said, sitting up.
“Anything, me Laird,” she answered.
He separated the pendants and placed his father’s flat on the table between them. “I need ye to hold on to this just a little longer,” he requested. “I will be sending some men in a few days to repair this building and bring provisions for ye and the children.”
“Ye’re too generous, me Laird!” she cried.
“Nay,” he said. “I am only righting a wrong. It should have been done long ago.” He rose to his feet and handed her a pouch of money. “Use this to care for yerself and the children until the men arrive. I will make sure that no one disturbs ye anymore. Ye’ll want for nothing.”
Hilda jumped up and curtsied.
