Page 68 of A Virgin for the Icy Laird
Wordlessly, he moved to the sideboard. He had been through worse. An inebriated lass was nothing compared to what he could handle.
“Do sit,” he urged softly.
He busied himself with pouring a finger of Scotch into a tumbler and handing it to her.
Before he rounded his desk, she’d downed the drink and was placing the empty glass on the table. His eyes flicked to the crystal, lingering on the reflection of the candlelight between them, then to her. She wiped the back of her hand over her lips.
“Tell me what happened.” He sat with his back ramrod straight, folding his arms over his chest. He could not believe she had returned from hearing a man’s dying words looking as disheveled as she did.
She shook her head again. “I doesnae matter.” Her expression shifted from alarm to abject solemnity.
He looked at her properly. Only then did he realize that she was truly afraid.
“Lady Isla,” he said in a reassuring tone, “if anyone has hurt ye, ye can tell me.”
“No one has laid a hand on me. In fact, the great evil I am about to speak of has been done to ye.”
Adair sucked in a sharp breath. “Ye have me attention.”
“Me faither isnae who ye think he is.” She raised her hands and clasped them on the desk. “I assure ye that what I say is no falsehood. I’m just repeating what a dyin’ man told me.”
“The man ye called on?”
“Aye. Duncan Morgress. He is—was me faither’s man-at-arms until old age took its toll on him.”
“Go on, I believe ye.”
She swallowed, and he saw emotions flicker in her eyes. When she remained quiet, he thought she had changed her mind.
If she did, he would not pressure her. It was late, and morning was fast approaching. They could continue this conversation when he was better rested.
He did not trust his mental state. He had worried about Isla the entire day, which took more of a toll on him than he had expected. It had been hard not to when he kept catching Callum pacing as the hours ticked by. His brother had been eager to bring her back himself.
Adair was beginning to see her like a sister, which meant he regretted his decision not to immediately chase after her when he heard that she had returned home.
“Twelve years ago, there was an accident that claimed the life of the former Laird Scott and his family.”
His heart stuttered.
“Yer faither was with them the day he died.”
He sat up straighter, furrowing his brow.
Emily had mentioned that his father died trying to save her parents, and from what Isla was saying, he could only conclude that…
Oh. Oh!
Emily and Elize were the daughters of the former Laird Scott.
“I kent me faither died trying to save someone’s life,” he said. “But I didnae ken it was the former Laird and Lady Scott.”
He immediately realized that heshouldn’tknow. No one should have known, not even Isla.
“How did ye find out?” she asked.
“It was a recent discovery. Daenae worry about it.” He waved a dismissive hand, but his heart was thudding against his ribcage.
What did her father have to do with the accident?
