Page 95 of The Highlander's Auctioned Hellion
“But if I stay…” Lydia’s voice was small. “We both know she will not give up the girls willingly.”
Callum stared at her, the despair in her eyes plain to see. She swallowed, wringing her hands in front of her.
There were many things that Callum intended to say.
Please dinnae leave me… I cannae dae this without ye… I am sorry this has happened to us….
But instead, he said something quite different.
“Are ye really goin’ to abandon those girls when you promised to care for them?”
Lydia’s spine straightened, her eyes turning cold.
“I am doing what I can tosavethem,” she said, her voice devoid of emotion. “And you have made it clear that you do not need a wife. You don’t really want me here. I was just a convenience. I’ll leave, and then you won’t have to worry about me anymore.”
That was it, then. Callum spun on his heel, wrenched open the door, and slammed it closed behind him.
CHAPTER 26
Callum kickedopen the door of his study. He would have ripped it from its hinges if it hadn’t been as thick as it was.
Cursing loudly, he stormed through the room, kicking whatever was in his path, hurling the chair at the door, and listening to the satisfying splintering sound as it broke apart.
He walked across the room, throwing his papers and documents from the desk. They scattered across the floor, blanketing the area around his feet.
Am I truly to lose everythin’ in one day?
It should not have hurt so much that Lydia was planning to leave him. Her words should have been exactly what he wanted to hear—they were partners in name only. If she left, now that the girls were gone, it should have no impact on him.
But seeing her so upset, hearing her telling him she had to do what was best for the girls only compounded the very reason he had brought her here.
She began as a convenient mother for those children, but what is she to me now? What has she always been?
Running his fingers through his hair, Callum left the room, slamming the door behind him and marching to Angus’s study.
The servants who had gathered outside the room to listen to the chaos he created scattered like minnows as he marched past them.
He strode along the corridor of the castle toward a familiar door he had not walked through since the first day he arrived.
Angus’s study was in much the same state as it had been. The room was dark, musty, and stale. Dust swirled about his feet as he entered.
The fire had not been lit in some time, and papers and scrolls were lying across every surface. How many hours had he spent in this room in his lifetime? Hundreds, maybe thousands—strategizing with his brother, discussing what was required for their people.
And if ye hadnae loved that harpy, maybe ye would still be here and we wouldnae be in this position.
Callum walked to the mantelpiece and ran a hand along the surface, throwing the oddments to the floor. The clock that had sat there for decades fell onto the flagstones with a loud clanging sound, cogs and gears flying everywhere.
Looking at the desks, at the years he had spent sitting in front of it, leaning over it, trading strategies with his brother, his fury exploded.
Crouching onto his haunches, he gripped the thick wood in his hands, his fingers curling around the edge of the wood, nails digging into the grooves.
The heavy mahogany was good quality and had been built with strong wood, but it was no match for his rage.
With a mighty roar, Callum lifted the desk, his muscles straining as he turned it upside down.
Drawers and inkwells shattered as it rolled against the window. If he had been able to throw the thing through the glass, he would have done so.
Breathing heavily, he cast his eye over the mess, staring angrily around at the papers all over the floor until an envelope caught his eye.
