“She’s requested sanctuary,” Theo explained. “And as it happens, I have plenty of room—and a vacancy in a certain… area.”
“If ye’re talkin’ about Amber, I wouldnae worry,” Stephen said. “The lass is doin’ fine. Alice—Cook’s assistant—is teachin’ her the names of the herbs in the garden.”
“Aye, that’s all well and good,” Theo acknowledged. “But she’s the daughter of Laird McGowan, and I’ll have her raised as such. She needs a proper education.”
Stephen tilted his head. “So that’s what this is? Ye’re marryin’ so that ye have help with the bairn? Why nae just send for a tutor?”
“Because ye ken as well as I do that Amber needs more than just a tutor. She needs patience. A softer hand. Someone who can coax her gently, nae force her into books and drills.”
“And ye believe Lavina will do that?” Stephen asked, arching an eyebrow.
Theo nodded.
“So, this really is just about findin’ someone to tend to Amber?”
“It is,” Theo said plainly. “I’m under nay illusions, Stephen.”
But Stephen wasn’t satisfied. He stepped in front of him and pressed a hand to his chest, halting him in the corridor.
“Marriage is a serious contract,” he began, his voice edged with concern. “This isnae something ye should take lightly.”
“I ken what I’m doin’, and I ken what’s best for Amber. This is an arrangement. I have nay expectations, nor does she. Lavina seeks sanctuary for herself and her sister. I can provide that.”
Stephen folded his arms, skeptical. “And ye’re sure that’s as far as this goes?”
Theo paused, his expression tightening. “Again, I’m under nay illusions. Nay one would fall in love with a beast of a man,” he stated, his voice low. “Nay one wants a husband covered in scars.”
His jaw clenched as he turned toward the chamber doors.
“I’m under nay illusions,” he repeated, his tone harsher. “This is duty. Nothing more.”
Stephen eyed him with suspicion. “Do ye think the council will agree to the arrangement?”
Theo reached for the iron handle and pulled in a breath. “I dinnae care what they have to say about it,” he scoffed. “Come mornin’, I’ll be married to Lavina Lewis. And there’s nae a lick they can do about it.”
“This way?” Lavina asked, tapping her finger on her chin as she glanced back over her shoulder.
Her gaze shifted to the small child trailing behind her.
Amber.
The poor thing looked as though she’d been abandoned in some alley, her clothes worn, her eyes hollow. There was a purityin her silence, but also a sadness. It was clear that she hadn’t known even a whisper of kindness in some time.
How could anyone just let the poor thin’ stay in such rags? Is she nae the daughter of the Laird? So help me, if I find out the laird is neglectin’ her… well…
Lavina glanced at Amber as she tried to rein in her aggressive thoughts. It wasn’t her fault; she was built to nurture and protect. She’d been doing it for Maisie ever since their parents passed.
Lavina felt a pang of pity as she wondered how the child had ended up in this keep. Was she a ward? An orphan? Or perhaps the illegitimate child of a scullery maid who’d been sent away in shame?
The thought made her flinch. It was too close to home.
“Or… is it this way?” she asked, hoping to coax the child into speaking. “Ye ken, we could probably find ye something nicer to wear than those old rags ye’ve got on. Wouldnae that be nice? I’m sure the Laird has a dressmaker he can summon.”
Amber didn’t reply but pointed silently to the left as they made their way through the labyrinth of the unfamiliar keep.
“This keep is bigger than any place I’ve ever been,” Lavina remarked, trying to fill the thickening silence. “I think I’d have been lost, were it nae for ye.”
She offered a small smile. “By the way, thank ye for yer help. Ye ken, when we get to the infirmary, you’ll have to meet me sister—if she’s up, that is.”
