He swallowed, and Violet knew what he was about to say still hurt him to remember. She squeezed his hand, and he gave her a small smile.
“We were going to visit her cousin when we were ambushed by some English soldiers looking for sport,” he sighed. “Mary was killed, and I couldnae do anything to the men, so they escaped.”
“How old was Keira then?” she asked.
“Less than a year,” he answered.
Violet clapped a hand over her mouth. It was why the girl didn’t remember anything about her mother or even the incident.
Thank God. Violet didn’t want to imagine the trauma the poor girl would have had to carry had she witnessed her mother’s death.
She now understood Ruaridh’s hatred for the English and how frightened he must have been when he had learned Lord Westall had taken Keira. If he were any other man, she wasn’t sure she would have been treated so kindly.
“I am sorry,” she murmured. “You shouldn’t have suffered so much because of my people.”
“I have made me peace with it long ago,” he returned with a small smile. “I had to, for Keira’s sake.”
“And you’ve done a great job of it,” she praised.
He smiled almost shyly then.
Violet felt her heart warm at the sight of such a strange look on him. It wasn’t very often that she got to see such an assured man looking uncomfortable.
“I almost feel bad for thinking my problems are worse than yours,” she muttered, wrapping her arms around herself.
He eyed her, an eyebrow rising as if asking her to continue.
“I’m talking about my life in England,” she explained. “I used to hate it there.”
Her words escaped her with a heavy breath, and she realized that was the first time she had ever truly expressed how she had felt all those years.
Whenever her father had asked why she had wanted to stay home rather than attend balls or events, she had always made flimsy excuses, unable to say exactly what she wanted because it wouldn’t have changed anything.
“Why?” Ruaridh asked.
“You know my father now and see how weak he is to confrontation,” she said. “He has been that way all my life, and I learned early not to expect him to protect me.”
“What did they do to ye?” he asked, looking as though he wished to kill someone.
She giggled softly. “Do you worry for me, Ruaridh?”
“Aye,” he answered.
She didn’t know what to say to that, so she just smiled.
“I’m sorry I interrupted yer tale,” he sighed.
“I don’t mind,” she assured. “There’s not much left to tell. The ton, as you know, don’t take very kindly to people they think beneath them, and my father’s rank ensured that I was treated as an outsider. On good days, it was with cold detachment, but on bad days, I found myself the butt of many unkind jokes. My father never once stood up to them because he wanted to remain in their good books. It was a most frustrating way to grow up, but I survived.”
“Aye, ye did,” he said, shaking his head. “I did find it odd ye didnae fight as hard to return home or to Westall. Now I understand why ye didnae protest much.”
“I would rather have died at the hand of a wild beast than return to him,” she huffed, shivering. “I was actually glad you interrupted my wedding. I did not, however, like how you carried me like a sack of potatoes or how my reputation was tainted as it was.”
“I apologize for doing that,” he offered, looking chagrined.
“It is not as though it could have been helped.” She shrugged. “And you never once asked what I wanted.”
“I assumed me handsome looks would win ye over easily.”
