Page 58 of Trapped By the Wicked Highlander
Hunter didn’t reply. He turned on his heel and marched toward the door, Daniel following without question. The heavy thud of their boots echoed through the stone corridors as they made their way down to the courtyard.
Michael had just dismounted when Hunter stepped outside. The older man’s face was drawn, his eyes searching frantically as if he still couldn’t believe what he had heard. Hunter approached him with a measured stride, his face unreadable.
Hunter spoke first, his voice cold and firm. "What are ye doin' here? Last time I saw ye, ye tried to stick me with a blade."
Michael’s breath hitched, and for a moment, he said nothing. Then, his voice cracked as he asked, "Is it true? Is Margaret alive?"
Hunter’s jaw tensed. "Aye, she’s alive."
Michael’s eyes glistened, and he took a shaky breath. "Where is she? I must see her."
Hunter crossed his arms, his expression hard. "She’s within the castle. But ye’ll nae be seein' her until I ken ye will be safe."
Michael let out a heavy sigh and rubbed a hand down his weathered face. "I thought she was dead. I mourned her, Hunter. I buried an empty grave in her memory. I wasnae in me right mind."
"I heard the whispers. A traveler passed through me land, speakin' of a woman at Castle McDougal claimin’ to be Margaret. I couldnae believe it, but I had to see for meself."
Hunter studied him for a long moment, searching his face. "She returned on her own accord. She dinnae send for ye."
Michael straightened, his expression darkening. "She’s me daughter. I have a right to see her."
Hunter’s eyes narrowed. "Ye had a right to ken she was alive long ago. But she dinnae tell ye. That should tell ye somethin’."
Michael clenched his fists, frustration flashing in his eyes. "I only wish to speak with her."
The castle doors burst open, and Margaret rushed forward, her skirts billowing behind her. Without hesitation, she flung herself into Michael’s arms, clutching him tightly.
Hunter crossed his arms, his face unreadable, as he observed the reunion. The older man remained stiff at first, as if unsure this was real, but then his arms slowly wrapped around his daughter.
"Faither, I missed ye so much," Margaret murmured against Michael’s shoulder.
Michael pulled back just enough to look at her, his eyes searching her face. "How… how is this possible?" he asked, his voice raw with emotion.
Margaret sniffled, blinking rapidly. "Come inside. I will explain everythin’," she said, grasping his hands tightly.
Michael hesitated, glancing over at Hunter as if expecting some kind of answer from him. But Hunter remained silent, watching with cold detachment. He knew Margaret well enough to suspect she wouldn’t tell the whole truth. Instead, she would weave a story that painted her as the victim.
Margaret turned back to Michael, tugging him toward the entrance. "Please, Faither. We have much to discuss."
Michael gave Hunter one last glance before nodding. "Aye, lass. Lead the way."
Hunter clenched his jaw as he watched them disappear into the castle. His gut twisted with unease, knowing Margaret’s version of events would be far from honest. He had no doubt she would leave out the part where she had betrayed him and abandonedher own child simply so she would not have shame staining her name.
Daniel stepped up beside him, arms crossed. "Reckon she’ll tell him the truth?"
Hunter let out a humorless chuckle. "Nae a chance. She’ll spin a tale that puts her in the best light."
Daniel exhaled sharply. "The lass always was a fine liar."
Hunter said nothing, his gaze fixed on the castle doors. He should have felt relief that Margaret was dealing with her own mess now, but instead, frustration boiled within him. She had returned, turned his world upside down, and now her father was here, demanding answers she would never give.
Daniel clapped him on the shoulder. "Ye should let it be, Hunter. Whatever she tells him, it doesnae change what we ken."
Hunter nodded stiffly, but it did little to ease the weight in his chest. His thoughts drifted, unbidden, to Cassandra. She would never have lied like Margaret. She had left with her head high, without deception or manipulation.
Later that evening, Hunter was restless. He had some whiskey as he sat at the table. Before long he fell into a slumber with his head on the table fully clothed.
When a loud banging at his door woke him, he jumped and grabbed his dirk.
