Page 8 of Wedded to the Twisted Highlander
“Dead?” Thomas echoed.
There was more to the story—he could sense it in his bones. The feisty minx before him had layers he was eager to peel back to understand the depth of her pain and resilience. After all, not every woman dared to jump out of a window to escape him.
And if he was being completely honest, he enjoyed the hunt. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d come across such an adversary. She was clever and, like him, used what assets she had to her advantage. Perhaps she could be a valuable asset to his clan.
He watched as she instinctively hid her daughter behind her—a protective gesture that made him chuckle darkly to himself. She had strong instincts to consider him a threat. He found himself both amused and impressed. Few could see past his imposing exterior to the man he truly was.
“Ye spoke of things ye had to get. Is this all ye wish to collect?” he asked, much to her shock. “If ye think ye’ll avoid punishment just because of the wee one, ye’re sorely mistaken. Now, collect yer things. I dinnae wish to be here any longer than I need to be.”
“What is he talkin’ about, Ma?” Melody whimpered as she tugged on Astrid’s skirt.
Astrid turned and knelt beside her. “Laird McFair wants us to go wit’ him,” she explained as she cast a glance at Thomas.
“But why?” Melody pressed.
“Do ye wish to stay here in the filth?” Astrid asked.
Melody shook her head.
“I didnae think so. He wants to take us to his castle. Can ye believe it?”
“Are ye tellin’ the truth? Is that really where ye’re takin’ us? Nae to the dungeons, but to the actual castle?” Melody asked.
Thomas couldn’t but note how clever the child was—clearly an inherited trait.
“Yer ma will be helpin’ me faither,” he explained. “And in return, ye’ll be safe and well cared for. Does that sound like a fair and proper arrangement to ye?”
Melody studied him for a moment. Her big brown eyes enchanted him, as they seemed to have the power to see into the depths of his soul.
How could such a small thing captivate him? Thomas couldn’t help but notice how calculated she was. She wasn’t like the other children in the village. There was a spark in her eyes that made her seem wise beyond her years.
His heart stopped for a moment. A single memory of his father bestowing the same honor on him as a child flashed through his mind.
There was no denying that there was something about the girl that reminded Thomas of himself at that tender age.
“Well?” he prompted, watching her like a hawk.
She furrowed her brow and opened her mouth—perhaps to argue—but Thomas could see the wheels turning in her head. The spark in her eyes dimmed slightly, replaced by a flicker of hope. She was weighing her options, and he could feel the shiftin the air, the fragile thread of trust beginning to form between them.
“Aye,” Melody answered, her face bright and joyful. “We should go.”
“Are ye sure?” Astrid asked as she studied her for a moment.
Melody leaned close to Astrid’s ear.
As much as Thomas wished to know what secrets were being shared, he remained still and watched. Melody’s eyes flicked to him every so often, making it obvious who they were talking about.
Thomas didn’t mind. He found the scene endearing, especially given the child’s bravery. She didn’t cower at the sight of him. Instead, she held her ground.
“Very well, if ye’re sure that’s what ye want.”
Thomas followed closely behind them. He listened as Astrid painted a vivid picture of what their life in the castle would be like. It surprised him how well she understood the inner workings of a castle.
More questions formed in his mind. Where had she come from? How did she know how to get here? Was she the daughter of a laird? How much could he trust her?
“Ye seem to be rather familiar wit’ castle life. Have ye run one before?” Thomas asked, interrupting their chatter.
Astrid gave a little shrug. “Nay, Me Laird. I’ve never run one,” she answered. “Me sister came close to runnin’ a large estate once. I saw how it was done.”
