Page 67 of The Laird's Secret Bairn

“Nay,” Kenna said firmly. “Anyone wouldnae. Plenty would have frozen, fled, or thought only of their own safety. Ye didnae hesitate. That tells me a great deal about ye, lass, more than any story ye’ve written ever could.”

Skye looked down at their hands, unable to meet the older woman’s eyes for a moment. “I only did what felt right.”

“That’s exactly me point.” Kenna released her hand, though her expression remained soft. “How is yer arm, truly? Shall I have someone bring some ointment for the bruising? I can make it meself. Raising a son meant there were quite a few bruises, bumps, and cuts to tend to. Though Lily gets up to almost as much trouble as Dougal used to.”

“It isnae so bad as that. It’ll fade on its own soon enough. I wish ye wouldnae make so much of it. It doesnae even hurt that much.”

“Mm.” Kenna didn’t look entirely satisfied, but she let the matter lie. “And Lily? Has anyone told her what happened today?”

“Nae yet. Dougal thought it best she believe it was only a stranger passing through, nothing more. But I feel that we havenae seen the last of Angus Lawson.”

Kenna fell quiet, which was answer enough. She believed that Angus was going to come back, and sooner than any of them wanted.

“Best for now, perhaps.” She sighed, gazing into the fire. “Though secrets have a way of coming out, do they nae? We’ve learned that well enough today.”

Skye nodded. “We can only do our best to protect Lily.”

“Aye, we will all do our best. Dougal and I will see to that.”

“And me,” she gently reminded her.

Kenna smiled. “Thank ye, Skye. I truly am pleased to have ye here. Ye’re a breath of fresh air, and the castle has never felt more alive.”

Skye blushed. “Lady Kenna, ye flatter me too much. Ye and Lily keep the castle alive plenty.”

“Aye, but there’s more life here than there ever was. I want ye to remember that, Skye.”

She did not think she would be able to forget.

Before he went to see Skye, Dougal had to see Lily.

He found her curled up on the window seat with her knees drawn up, watching the yard below. She looked up when he entered, her small face still troubled.

“Why did ye send me inside, Da? I wasnae finished playing.”

He sat beside her. The window seat was too small for him, so he had to perch on the edge. “Sometimes, wee one, we must do what keeps us safe, even when we daenae wish to. Even when it means leaving something we love unfinished.”

“But I like the gardens.” She pushed out her bottom lip. “I was going to show Skye the flowers I planted.”

“And ye will. Tomorrow, or the day after, I promise ye that.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “It wasnae about the gardens, Lily. A man that I daenae trust came here today, and until he was gone, I wanted ye where I kent ye were safe.”

Lily considered this with the grave seriousness only a child could manage. “Did he come because of me?”

“Aye,” he said gently. “But ye neednae fret over it. That’s me worry to carry, nae yers.”

She leaned into his side, seemingly satisfied, and he held her there a moment longer than he needed to.

“Da?”

“Aye?”

“Is he a bad man? Truly bad, or only bad the way Cook is bad when I steal sweets before supper?”

Dougal huffed something close to a laugh despite himself. “Nae so simple as either, I’m afraid. He isnae bad the way Cook scolds ye, nay. But he isnae altogether wicked either. He’s a man who’s made mistakes he cannae take back and doesnae ken how to make right.”

“That sounds sad.”

“It is, indeed.” He looked down at her, struck as he so often was by how easily she cut through to the heart of matters a grown man might spend years dancing around. “Ye’ve a kind heart, Lily. Kinder than most grown folks I ken.”