“I worry for this clan that has protected me and become my home,” she sobbed. “I know our people won’t take kindly to this incident. What shall I do?”
He rubbed the back of her hair softly. “Fret not, dear child,” he soothed. “I intend to return to London to ensure there is no retaliation from our people.”
Violet pulled back in shock. Her eyes searched his questioningly to see if he truly meant what he had said. He had a small smile on his face and nodded.
“I understand the role I played in this entire ordeal, and I intend to make amends by proving Laird McLeod’s innocence,” he continued. “It may be too late for me to begin protecting you, but I intend to make up for my past mistreatment of you. That is, if you’ll let me.”
“Oh, Father,” she cried, hugging him again.
Her heart swelled in her chest as she considered his actions. He was seeking to earn her forgiveness, but this singular act of bravery had washed away the years of hurt and disappointment.
“Thank you,” she said, finally releasing him.
“You do not need to thank me, Violet,” he insisted. “Ruaridh is part of our family now, and I will do everything it takes to ensure he doesn’t suffer for my foolishness.”
“I want you to return after you have settled the matter, Father,” she said, earning a surprised look from him. “I don’t want us to be apart anymore.”
He nodded and hugged her again, and everything in the world seemed to finally make sense.
30
“Why are ye still weeping, Keira?” Grannie Ava laughed from the settee she had commandeered in Ruarid’s chambers.
They had all gathered without any prior plans to check up on his well-being and had found themselves sharing late-night tea as Keira wept over her father’s injuries.
They had assured her in turns that he was alright, but the lass was scarred by the violence she had seen, and Violet couldn’t help but understand her predicament.
She, too, had been thoroughly shaken by the ordeal and wondered how she would sleep with the image of Lord Westall choking on his own blood branded behind her eyes.
The man they had all come to see was sitting, despite all their protests that he should be in bed, on one end of another settee with Violet at the other end and Keira in the middle, weeping.
“Me da was hurt,” Keira sobbed, “and that bad man almost killed Violet as well.”
Ruaridh took her into his arms and kissed her hair. The scene was soft and stirred a warmth in Violet’s heart.
“Me lovely lass,” he said, patting her hair. “I am well, and me injury was a mere scratch. I ken ye’re frightened, but ye must put today behind ye. I have put that bad man in a place where he can never hurt us again.”
“Indeed,” Violet piped up, coming to their side. “He won’t hurt us again, Keira. We are safe now.”
Ruaridh gave her a look that was heavy with emotion and stole her breath, but she forced her gaze back to the girl, who was now looking at her with watery eyes.
“Come, Keira,” Grannie Ava said. “Ye can stay with me tonight.”
The girl nodded and went into her grandmother’s arms.
“I will help her get some sleep,” Grannie Ava added. “You, too, should get some sleep.”
Violet nodded and rose to her feet as she watched them leave. Her heart rate quickened when Grannie Ava sent her a wink before closing the door behind her, and her face flamed, wondering what the woman was trying to imply.
Now alone with Ruaridh, her heart thudded, but she swallowed her fear and turned to him. The faster she escaped, the better.
“I bid you a good night as well, Ruaridh,” she offered.
But as she turned to leave, he stilled her with a hand on her arm.
Eyes wide, she turned to him, swallowing past the lump in her throat. The air between them was charged dangerously with a maelstrom of emotions and unspoken words, and Violet couldn’t trust herself not to say anything untoward.
“Please stay,” he murmured. “I would like to speak with ye.”
