Page 35 of A Wife for the Highland Wolf
“Hector cannae eat an onion. Twill upset his stomach.”
Finn eyed the onion as Murdoch put it back on his plate, then poked a carrot toward the edge of his plate. “Hector eat ca-ot?”
“Carrot. And nay, ye cannae give Hector the vegetables ye daenae feel like eating, son.” Despite his serious tone of voice, Lydia could see that Murdoch was struggling not to smile. She hid her own laughter behind the rim of her goblet.
Finn pouted a bit, but he did grab the onion and begin to nibble on it. Lydia and Murdoch shared an understanding smile.
Murdoch shrugged. “He doesnae like vegetables as much as other things. Tis the first time I’ve ever seen him try to feed them to a dog though.”
Lydia laughed. “I wouldnae fret. Tis a phase I’ve heard all children go through. Tis when he gets old enough to try and hide what he’s doing that ye need to worry.”
“I suppose ye gave yer sisters some trouble on that front.” He smirked.
Lydia adopted an expression of innocence. “I couldnae say. I was thinking more of Leo’s son.”
“Oh?”
There was little harm in telling the story, and perhaps telling him more about her family would encourage him to reciprocate. Even if he didn’t tell her what she wanted most to know, she could get to know him through stories of his childhood.
“Aye. The boy kept getting sick, and nae one could understand why. Leo was so frustrated he kidnapped me sister to see if she could discern the cause. She’s a healer, and he wanted to ken if she could figure out what was ailing the boy.”
Lydia let her lips twist in a rueful smile. “Turned out, he’d been getting flowers from his estranged relatives, and he reacted badly to some of them. He was hiding them in his room, and his sickly episodes were when he’d received a fresh set of them.”
“And did yer sister figure out what was happening?”
“Aye. But twas a frustrating time for her.”
Murdoch nodded. “I ken some of what ye mean. I love me cousin, but she’s always after sneaking things into the castle, or sneaking away. She’s a passion for old lorecraft, and I’ve lost count of the times one of us has had to go after her, when she took it into her head to go out onto the moors in the middle of the night.”
“She mentioned something of that.” Lydia laughed.
Murdoch snorted. “Did she mention that Gordon and I taught her to swim, just so she’d nae drown herself sneaking into the fairy pools to try and catch water sprites?”
Wilma had mentioned the water sprites, but the mention of the fairy pools brought something else entirely to mind. Lydia lost her train of thought as the memory resurfaced, sharp and vivid in her mind.
She saw the moment Murdoch noticed her silence and divined the cause. She felt her cheeks heat, but she couldn’t find any words to break the sudden, slightly awkward stillness that fell between them.
Finally, the meal was over, and the nursery maid appeared to take the already drowsing Finn to his bed. Lydia watched them go. “Ye daenae wish to accompany yer son?”
“I was of the impression we were meant to use this time to learn more of each other.” Murdoch sipped from his tankard of beer. “After last night, I was expecting a host of questions.”
“I dinnae think ye’d wish to answer them, based on last night. In any case, tis only one question on me mind tonight.”
“And what is that?”
Lydia met his gaze, keeping her own expression as serene as she could manage. “What was it ye were planning to say to me, before the storm caught us unaware at the fairy pools?”
Murdoch’s expression of amusement faded into seriousness as shadows darkened his eyes the color of the storm clouds outside. “Och, that.”
He stood and took her hand to raise her gently from her chair. His hand slid through her hair, and it was all Lydia could do not to shiver deliciously under his touch.
“Truth? Ye asked about me wife. I dinnae commit that crime, for all I’ve been accused of it. But that doesnae mean I’ve nae killed. I have, and enough men that it would likely horrify ye if ye ken.”
She wanted to assure him that he did not need to worry about that. After all, her three brothers-by-marriage each had some darkness in their past, and lives ended by their blades. At one point, they’d thought Hunter had actually killed his brother. Next to that, Murdoch couldn’t possibly have done anything too horrible, especially if he was telling the truth that he hadn’t killed his wife.
However, Murdoch didn’t give her the opportunity to reply. “I daenae want to focus on the past. I daenae want to talk about it, or the death I’ve seen and meted out.”
His hand cupped her chin, tipping it up so he was looking into her eyes. “I want to discuss a future between us. A future builton understanding from this day onward, nay past sins and old scars. Tis all that matters to me.”
