Page 58 of Wedded to the Heartless Highlander
Lily shrugged, her movements careful, as if she still wasn’t sure how to let her guard down. “It was all right.”
Erica poured herself some tea, the rich aroma filling the air. “What do ye say we do somethin’ fun today? Just the two of us.”
Lily tilted her head to the side, curiosity flickering in her gaze. “Like what?”
“How about a ride?” Erica suggested. “We can explore the land, and ye can show me all the places ye like best.”
Lily hesitated, her fingers toying with the edge of her plate. But then she nodded, a small smile breaking through her reserve. “I’d like that.”
“Good! I’ll go up and change into me ridin’ outfit—you should do the same. We can meet back here shortly.”
“All right!” Lily bounced out of the hall and back up to her room.
As Erica pushed her bedroom door open and crossed toward the riding boots she had tucked in a corner, a flash of white caught her eyes.
“Post?” she murmured to herself as she walked tentatively toward her writing desk.
Quickly recognizing the bright red McFair seal, she hurried toward the desk and snatched up the letter.
“Sister…”
She started to read Thomas’s letter aloud, but her eyes moved faster than her lips. Scanning the pages, she absorbed each word.
I hope this letter finds you well, though it has only been a few days since you left us. I know how much you struggled with the entire affair, and I cannot imagine how you have been adjusting.
I wanted you to know that we all miss you terribly—Mother, Father, Reid, Olivia, and even Eileen, if you can believe that. It’s not the same without you here.
Erica lowered the letter slightly, hardly able to contain the ache in her heart. “Eileen, too?”
Her youngest sister was hardly the one to exhibit any change in temperament. She was just too young to understand. Even whentheir eldest sibling, Tillie, got married, Eileen hardly understood the change—she was far more interested in the MacLuther chef’s pastries than the well-being of their sister.
Father has good and bad days. As I write this letter, he’s sitting by the fire in the Great Hall after a long stroll in the gardens this morning with Mother. The illness has taken a toll on him, and although he insists that he is fine, we are trying a new tonic the healer had prescribed. It’s too soon to tell if it will help, but we are hopeful.
I confess I wish to hear your thoughts about this new life of yours. Though, if your heart feels heavy, please know that mine is with you. You have always been stronger than you think, and if anyone can get through this, it’s you. Still, if you ever need an escape, or even a short respite, remember that McFair Keep is and always will be your home. You’ll always have a place here, no matter what.
Oh, and Reid insists that I tell you this strange bit of news before I close this letter. A few days ago, Father sent out a patrol to look into reports about an unfamiliar rider near our borders. The stallion bore no recognizable markings, and the rider didn’t speak when hailed—they just vanished. It’s been on all of our minds, and Father has tightened our security.
Be cautious, Erica. These are uncertain times, and the world is not always as it seems. Look after yourself, and should you ever need refuge, McFair Keep will always be open to you.
“Yours, Thomas,” Erica whispered, a tear slowly rolling down her cheek as she folded the letter with trembling hands and placed it in her jewelry box, next to the notes from Hunter.
Her brother’s words sat heavily in her chest, like a weight she couldn’t shift. She could still hear his steady, calming voice in her head, but instead of soothing her, it only made her ache for home.
The mention of her father’s health, fragile as it had been when she left, gnawed at her.
Does he truly have ‘good days,’ or was Thomas softenin’ the truth to ease me mind?
Erica pressed her palm against her sternum, willing her breaths to slow down.
And then there is the strange rider…
“Just a traveler, surely,” she said to the empty room.
A part of her dismissed it as overthinking. After all, the McFair lands bordered others, and wanderers were not uncommon. But another, much bigger part of her warned of danger, of schemes, of the precariousness of her father’s position without anyone there to offer support.
Nae that I’ll be able to help with that, but still…Maybe I can speak with Hunter, and we can go visit, bring some men along, and help?
Her gaze drifted to the window, where the morning sunlight spilled golden across the estate, deceptively peaceful. Lily would be waiting.
