“I was readin’ to them,” said River flatly.
“Why are ye askin’?” said Finlay, taking a single step closer to Keir. “It seems to me like ye are accusin’ yer lady of somethin’.”
“Aye, so I am,” said Keir without a moment’s hesitation.
“I never leave this wing,” River reminded him. “Ye ken that.”
“Ye never leave this wing as far as we ken,” said Keir.
“Enough!”
Finlay’s voice was a roar, echoing off the walls. River glanced at him to find his face reddened to the same hue as his hair, his eyes wide and almost popping out of his skull with rage. Next to her, Colby approached and clutched at her skirts, clinging to her.
“Ye accuse yer lady of somethin’ we daenae even ken,” said Finlay. “Do ye take us for fools? Tell us what happened and then...onlythen, we may answer any other questions ye have.”
“Ye’re in nae position to make demands,” said Keir. “In fact, if I were ye, I would shut me mouth.”
It was the wrong thing to say, and River took a step forward as if to place herself between them, but then Colby’s insistent hands reminded her that she was dragging him along, too. It was one thing to put herself in the middle of whatever this was, but she couldn’t drag the children into it.
“How about I shut yer mouth for ye?” Finlay asked. “May I remind ye how much ye and yer Laird have made the Lady O’Douglas suffer? May I remind ye everythin’ ye have done to her?”
“It wasnae me Laird who killed her maither,” Keir spat, and a piercing pain shot through River’s chest. Even now, the memory of her mother’s death filled her with conflicting feelings. There was grief, yes, but there was also bitterness for the woman who had harmed so many innocents—going so far as to kill Arya’s and Colby’s mother.
River was tired of revenge. That was her mother’s game. She was the one who had tried to kill her father’s mistresses and illegitimate offspring, of whom there were many. And all River could do was take these two children, who suffered just because they were born to the wrong man, and care for them as best she could now that they were orphaned.
At the mention of his mother, Colby began to sniffle, the sound soon turning into a sob. Arya was by his side within moments,and River gathered them both in her arms, shushing them quietly.
But then, she turned her gaze to Finlay.
“Get out,” she barked, some of her mother’s sharpness bleeding out of her. “Daenae make me say it again.”
“I’m nae goin’ anywhere before I speak to yer entourage.”
“I wasnae askin’.”
Finlay stared at her silently for a few long dragging moments. Then he turned to the door.
“I will be waitin’ outside,” he said. “I expect the bairns to be available soon for questionin’. Mr. Kirk...follow me.”
Finlay grumbled something intelligible under his breath, then with a final look at River, followed Keir out of the room.
“Are ye alright?” River asked as she fell to her knees next to Colby. She brushed his dark hair out of his eyes to find them filled with tears, but he nodded softly.
“Are ye?” he asked, and River’s heart melted just a little more.
“I’m fine,” she assured them both. “Ye daenae have to speak to Mr. Morrison if ye daenae want to. He has nae right to demand it.”
“We will speak to him if it means he leaves ye alone,” said Arya. Her brows were pulled into a frown, her arms crossed over her chest, anger seeping through her. “I daenae understand...what does he want? Why is he accusin’ ye? Ye havenae done anythin’ wrong!”
With a soft sigh, River pulled Arya closer to her, and the girl wrapped her arms around her shoulders. “It’s naethin’, I’m sure,” she said, but deep in her core, she knew that to be false.
Somethin’ must have happened to the Laird. They think I did it.
Is he...is he dead?
A knock on the door startled River, and the door opened to reveal Finlay once more.
“Me lady...let the bairns come for a wee bit,” he said. “I shall care for them, I promise ye.”
