Page 46 of The Highlander's Twisted Deal
He should be afraid of fire after what had almost happened to him. He’d seen Marcus’s burned, ruined skin afterwards before the healing process began. He’d smelled the smoke and knew what burning flesh and hair smelled like.
Duncan laid a careful hand on his shoulder. Despite himself, Callum flinched.
“Ye arenae yer faither,” Duncan repeated.
Callum had already lost count of how many times his cousin had told him that.
I wish I could believe it.
“Perhaps not,” Callum said. “But in case I am, I willnae risk it. Ava… Ava deserves a good life. She deserves happiness and safety. I promised her money if she went along with this false betrothal. She can have a fresh start. She has her maither and her friend here. I can keep her safe, at least. I willnae condemn her to a life with me or a life without children.”
A long silence unrolled between them. A lump had lodged itself in Callum’s throat, and he felt the mad urge to giggle or cry—possibly both at the same time.
Do I really believe I would hurt her out of jealousy?
The answer was reassuringly quick.
No, I wouldnae. But what madness afflicted me faither in his last years? Could it pass to me? Could it pass to me children?
It wasn’t worth the risk. That was what Marcus had said, and Moira—that the old Laird had gone mad, that he was driven wild by perceived slights and jealousy. In the end, he hadn’t trusted anyone. Not his wife, not his brother. It had been a long and painful death before ever the fire was started.
Callum often wished he could remember more. He didn’t remember any of the madness Marcus described. He remembered his father as stern and a little aloof but kind and as loving as he could be. He remembered toys and outings, remembered his father painstakingly teaching him how to make arrows and shoot a bow. He remembered his mother looping her arm through her husband’s, smiling adoringly up at him.
How long had that been before the old Laird lost his mind? Callum did not remember. He wished he could.
Enough.
He rose to his feet and dusted off his palms.
“I ken ye only want the best for me, Duncan,” he said, his voice shaky. “I love ye like a braither. But ye must let me decide for meself here.”
Duncan bit his lip. “But I think ye are falling in love with her,” he said softly. “I told her that I’d nae judge her, and I willnae judge ye either. Do ye nae deserve to be happy, Callum? Have ye nae earned a good life?”
“No,” Callum replied simply. “I dinnae believe I do. I am the Laird, first and foremost, and a man after. Me clan deserves more. Ava deserves more. I dinnae want to discuss this again.”
Duncan was quiet for a few moments. “As ye wish,” he said, at last. “But dinnae send her away. Nae yet.”
Callum’s heart clenched at the thought of never seeing Ava again.
“I willnae,” he responded. “I willnae.”
14
Ava woke up in the finest bed she’d ever slept in, in a room larger than any home she’d ever had, and stared up at the velvet canopy and wondered why she felt so hollow inside.
It was still early. They would be making breakfast now, setting out the delicious dishes on the long feasting table downstairs. She imagined it, imagined the servant girls stealing a pinch of food here and there, secreting apples and pears in their apron pockets to keep them going until their own breakfast.
She’d never had breakfast made for her in her life, aside from a few of Paisley’s lopsided efforts. And yet, she didn’t have an appetite.
She closed her eyes, wondering if she should try and sleep a little more. No, that wouldn’t work. There were servants to think about now, meek girls and women who would want to come in here and dust and sweep, to shake out her bedsheets even though she always made her bed every morning.
They’d even knock any accumulated dust off the velvet canopy and spread out some fresh rushes on the floor, scenting the room with lavender and Jane Rose. It would be as if Ava had never been here before, and no doubt, that would be to Laird McAdair’s liking.
She squeezed her eyes shut tighter until lights exploded behind her lids.
No use trying to sleep. She was wide awake, and, besides, Elsie and her mother were sleeping in the next apartment and would be up soon.
Feeling as if her body was being moved by somebody else, Ava sat up stiffly and swung her legs over the side of the bed. It was so high up that her feet didn’t touch the ground when she sat on the bed like that, but she could feel the chill from the stone flags drifting up to touch her bare feet.
