Page 40 of The Cruel Highlander's Healer
“I became a Laird how all Lairds do,” he grunted finally. “Me faither died.”
Eliza snorted a laugh again. “Aye, I could have pieced that together for meself. Care to explain any further?”
He didn’t answer right away, but Eliza sensed that it wasn’t an outright dismissal. She remembered moments ago when she had the internal battle with herself, wondering if she should entertain his interrogation.
She got the feeling that he was doing the same.
Apparently, after a moment or two, the Laird arrived at the same decision she had. Because after he took another large drink of ale, he began to speak.
“He was killed on his way home from a neighboring territory,” he explained. “I was shocked. It was nae somethin’ I was prepared for. Me faither, he was someone I looked up to. He was an incredible Laird. Cared for his people and was viciously protective of his family.”
“Sounds a bit like ye,” she said, the words spilling from her lips before she’d even had time to consider them.
His brow ticked up in amusement. “Was that a compliment?”
She chuckled. “I think it was. But it had to be the ale talking. Nae somethin’ ye should be gettin’ used to.”
His smirk widened, the only reward she would get for her joke. She drank again.
“What about yer maither?”
She had noticed the woman’s absence. And, over the years, she’d heard more than a few people talk about how the Lady of MacKinnon castle had not been seen by anyone since her husband’s death.
Eliza had always dismissed the rumors. The last time she had been seen by the public was during the Laird’s wake, at least that’s what the gossipers said. She’d been certain that the woman had just holed up in the castle, not wanting the world to admonish in her grief.
She’d assumed the Lady preferred a quiet life after her husband’s death. But Eliza’s time in the castle had changed all that.
In her days in MacKinnon castle, there had been no sign of the woman. Not just that she hadn’t physically seen her, no. But Eliza hadn’t spotted a single portrait of her. She hadn’t heard staff whispering about having to serve her. She had not heard so much of a whisper of where her chambers even were.
It was something that had been nagging at her. And now that she and the Laird were speaking so openly, it seemed like the opportune moment to get her curiosity satiated.
Laird MacKinnon stared at her, his gaze hardening.
“She is in the dungeons,” he explained simply, the words stilted as they crossed the space between them.
Eliza’s brows shot up in surprise. Of all the possible answers, that was one she had not expected. She opened her mouth to probe further, but he cut her off.
“She was imprisoned after me faither’s death,” he explained, his words clipped as he seemed to rush to get them out. “And me sister, she was sent to a convent. For her own safety.”
Eliza’s heart gave a lurch as she thought what that must have been like. She wanted to know more, wanted to press him for more details. But she didn’t.
Laird MacKinnon’s posture had stiffened, his shoulders and spine straight as he stared her down. Bringing all of this up, it had ruffled him. She didn’t need to know him well to be able to see that.
“I’m an orphan,” she blurted.
She hadn’t meant to say the words. She’d been casting about in her mind for something to say that would break through the hardening exterior that was falling over him. And it had been the only thing that had come to mind.
A shocked look passed across the features. Apparently, the Laird hadn’t been expecting that omission either.
She hid her embarrassment at having spoken so candidly behind another deep swig of her beer. The alcohol had fully reached her now, and she registered that she likely needed to eat more.
Ripping off another hunk of bread, she took a bite and chewed it, allowing the revelation to settle between them.
“Do ye care to provide any more detail?” he asked, and Eliza couldn’t tell if he was amused or confused by her current state.
Perhaps a little of both.
“It’s how I came to live with Marissa,” she explained, still chewing the bite of bread. “I was wanderin’ in the woods when she found me. Ran away from me village when me parents were murdered. I dinnae want to go to an orphanage. I thought I would fare better in the trees.”
