Page 32 of To My Scot, With Love
He blinked, owl-eyed at her, his mouth slack.
“What a lioness you are, Lyddie,” he murmured. He drew in a shaky breath. “I had always thought Felicity got her fire from me. But I see now I had it completely wrong.”
She lifted her chin, setting her jaw. “The most foolish thing a man can ever do is underestimate a woman. And a mother at that.”
“I see that.” He studied her quietly for a beat. “I couldn’t have picked a better mother for my children. I know fate threw us into a less-than-ideal situation. But I believe fate knew exactly what it was doing.”
She lifted her brows expectantly, and a rumbling laugh escaped him. “You have nothing to fear, Lyddie. I love Felix. Nothing will change that. Yes, this changes the…trajectory of things. But I am aligned with you. We will pave a path for him, one where he is protected.Ifwhat you believe does come to pass. It won’t be easy for him, and he will always have to hide this part of him outside these walls. But here, he will always be safe.”
She nodded succinctly. “Excellent. I expected nothing less.”
He chuckled, his lips twitching. “Lioness.” He clawed the air and winked at her. And she rolled her eyes, but finally, a smile broke free again.
She treaded to the armchair and sank into it, the tension from their argument and the sweet relief of resolution draining the strength from her limbs.
Freddy walked over to her and squeezed her shoulder. “My sincerest apologies, Lyddie. I am not proud of my reaction. But you cannot deny it was the most common one.”
“Just because it is common,” she replied softly, throwing his words from a few weeks ago back at him. “Doesn’t make it acceptable.”
“Indeed. Those are wise words. A wise man must have said them.” He waggled his brows, and she rolled her eyes.
A knock sounded on the door.
“Enter,” Freddy called out.
The Jennings butler stepped into the chamber. “An urgent missive has arrived for you, my lord.”
Freddy’s brows drew together, and he swiftly retrieved the missive, opening it and scanning the contents. His chin jerked in, forehead lining the further he read.
Lydia stood and padded over to Freddy. “What is it?” She tilted her head questioningly at him.
His gaze met hers. “This is from the Duke of Devonford. He says he has one of our servants. A groom. Unconscious.” He glanced down at the note again and then back at her. “He has his doctor tending to him for now. But thought we would want to know.”
The blood leeched from Lydia’s face, acid turning over in her stomach.
“Lyddie?”
“Malcolm,” she said faintly. “It has to be Malcolm.”
Freddy shook his head, his amber eyes clouding. “Why would Malcolm Campbell be at Devonford Castle?”
“There is something else I need to tell you, Freddy.”
21
Lydia
Freddyhurrieddownthestairs, and Lydia rushed after him. “We’ll have the carriage readied immediately.” He paused at the bottom of the stairwell. “Mrs. Smith!” he bellowed.
Their housekeeper came bustling into the entry a moment later, puffing and holding her chest. “Yes, my lord?”
“Have a trunk packed for Lady Bentley. A sennights’ worth. I need it done an hour ago. Just the essentials.”
“It’ll be done,” Mrs Smith said, determination etched on her face as she headed up the stairs.
“Are we leaving for Devonford Castle?” Lydia asked, hurrying after her again striding husband. “You are. And Mr. Porter. I have a feeling he’s going to want to see the boy nearly as badly as you.”
Lydia’s heart swayed in her chest like a pendulum. She couldn’t put into words how badly she wanted to see Malcolm. The fear that had dug its dirt-filled talons into her chest and latched on. Unconscious. No other information. God, why had she let him go through with it?
