Around them, the rain finally started to fall, hitting the leaves with a soft pitter-pat. Emeric took no notice. That hot anger was burning in his stomach again, that dark sense of hurt and betrayal he’d carriedfor so long.
They waited in silence, the rain getting steadily heavier, until finally the door of the mill house opened and two children came bursting out. A boy and a girl, perhaps eight or nine years old, they squealed in delight as they began splashing through the rapidly forming puddles in the yard. They were followed quickly by a blonde-haired woman who shouted at them to come in out of the rain.
“Look at ye!” she called, putting her hands on her hips. “Ye’ll be tracking mud all through the house!”
He heard the low tones of a man’s laugh from inside the house and then a tall, sandy-haired man strode out. Emeric tensed.
“Och! A bit of rain never hurt anyone, Maeve,” the man laughed. He stomped in the puddles with the children and then hoisted the girl off her feet, swinging her around until she laughed in delight.
Anna leaned close. “Who are they?” she whispered.
“They are my half-brother and sister.” He raised a shaky hand and pointed at the sandy-haired man. “And that is my father.”
Chapter 18
It took a moment for Emeric’s words to sink in. Anna stared at him, uncomprehending. She turned to study the family scene below, the laughing couple and their children splashing through the puddles with not a care in the world. Then she looked back at Emeric’s tight, angry expression.
“I...I don’t understand. Your father died. He drowned.”
Emeric gave a sour laugh, tinged with bitterness. “Aye, that’s what everyone thinks. That’s what hewantedthem to think. But as ye can see, he’s very much alive.”
He turned to her and his expression was ravaged. “The day he ‘drowned’ I went looking for him. It was unusual for him to go sailing alone. I normally went with him. It was one of the things we did together on the odd occasions he was home, on leave from serving in the king’s elite. But this day he left without me, before I was even out of bed. So I went to the loch to find him. And find him I did.”
He stared down at the scene below, rain dripping unheeded down his face. “I found him punching holes into his own boat and pushing it out into the loch. When I stepped out to ask him what he was doing, he looked shocked to be caught—shocked and guilty. Then he got angry and ordered me home. I pretended to go but thendoubled back and followed him. He didnae go sailing. He picked up a pack that he’d hidden in the brush and set out towards MacDonald lands. I followed him all the way here, keeping out of sight. At the time I didnae know why I did that. After all, he was my da, wasnae he? Why would I need to keep out of sight? But I think even then I knew something was very, very wrong.”
He ran a hand across his face, staring at nothing, as though memories played before his eyes. “And when I got here, I saw him go down to that mill and be greeted at the door by a blonde woman with a bairn in her arms and another on the way.” He turned haunted eyes on Anna. “He was leaving us. He was turning his back on us all and leaving us for his other family. And here he remains.”
Emeric watched his father, his eyes flashing. “Everyone thinks him a hero. But the truth is that my father is a womanizer, a bigamist and a liar. All those times he was off fighting for the king’s elite? He was really off with his mistress—or mistresses—for I have no idea if there are any others, or how many bastard half-siblings I have up and down the land.”
Anna stared at him, appalled. She didn’t know what to say. So she said nothing. She sat there in the rain-soaked grass, her skirts soaking up the rainwater and the mud, and turned to watch the family below. The children were now racing around the yard, squealing and laughing as they chased one another. The sandy-haired man—Emeric’s father—was still out in the rain with them, egging them on, while the blonde-haired woman stood in the doorway of their home, shaking her head in amusement.
Emeric’s gaze was locked onto his father, an intensity radiating from him that was almost palpable. His hands were clenched into fists, the knuckles white as he watched his father living this second life that none of them had known about.
What must that have been like for him? To carry this secret alone all this time whilst his family grieved for a man who had betrayed them all?
She rested a hand on his arm, a small comfort in the face of his raw pain. “Emeric, I’m so sorry,” she murmured.
Now she understood. Now she understood why he had left Dun Achmore. Now she understood why going back there caused him so much pain. She understood why he pushed his family away.
After a heavy silence, Emeric turned to her. “I meant to confront him that day, ye know,” he said softly. “I was going to storm in there and demand to know why he’d chosen them over us. But when I saw them all together...” He sighed, his shoulders slumping. “I realized it didnae matter. His choice was made.”
