Page 82 of The Highlander's Auctioned Hellion
“I do not like this,” her mother muttered. “Are you not safe with him? He is your husband now. Have you married into war?”
Lydia’s gut clenched.Husband.
With everything that had happened, she had barely been able to process that their marriage vows had finally been spoken.
He is my husband, and yet he treats me like a fool. Do I not deserve to know what we are up against?
“I will find out, Mother. He cannot keep it from me forever.”
She anxiously twisted her fingers even as she spoke the words. If their marriage was as Callum intended, what opportunity would she have to learn anything?
Am I simply to lie in my bed every night, waiting for a swordsman to slice through my door and kill me?
She looked around, feeling numb. The room was bright and colorful; the crest of the Murray clan emblazoned on the banners on every wall. It should have been a happy place, filled with merriment and laughter.
Instead, there were only the sounds of the children eating, not speaking to one another, the girls timid and hunched in on themselves. Her mother paced before the fire; her brow furrowed with concern.
Lydia lowered herself into a chair, the folds of her dress shimmering in the candlelight.
Some wedding day this has turned out to be.
“How many men should I station in the corridors?” Alexander asked.
“Four along the passage where the girls sleep, and one outside their room. One outside Tommy’s, too, and the Duchess’ just to be safe.”
“Aye, M’Laird. And yers?”
“I’ll take care of me wife,” he growled, noting Alexander’s smirk as the man-at-arms nodded and headed down the corridor to see to the men.
Callum watched him shout to the guards to pay attention as he sent them to their posts, the long dark corridor looking all the more sinister now that the threat was upon them.
I knew there was somethin’ brewin’. I just didnae think McCarthy would be so bold.
Grimacing, he headed back toward the dining hall to collect the girls, listening intently to every footstep, watching for shadows.
He squared his shoulders, an anger like nothing he had ever known running through his veins.
Let them come. I’ll kill them all and more besides.
He burst through the door to the dining hall as Lydia sprang to her feet, the guards on either side of him pointing their swords at Callum’s chest. The fire crackled quietly in the room. Lydia’s mother glared at him with a venomous expression on her face.
“We should get the girls to bed,” he said.
“But, Uncle Callum, it is supper time!” Eilis protested. “Look at all the food to eat.”
“Ye will dae as I say,” he snapped. Eilis froze in place, and there was a sniff from beside her as Amy’s eyes filled with tears.
Sighing heavily, Callum walked into the room, crouching beside them.
“Ye can take two sweets with ye to bed, but that is all, all right? Ye need yer rest. We have all had a hard day.”
He turned to Amy. “How’s me horse rider?”
Amy giggled, the tears forgotten. “It doesnae hurt so much anymore.”
“Good girl.”
A scent wafted over him, as familiar as a Scottish hillside, and Callum turned as Lydia approached them. She bent down to pick up Amy, who was holding two bannocks in her hand like a lifeline.
