Page 23 of The Laird's Secret Bairn

Neither of them moved. The fire cracked once, sharp in the quiet.

8

The silence persisted until Dougal suggested they play a game.

“A game?” Skye asked dubiously.

“Aye,” he said with a smile. “Truth or dare. It’s a way for us to get to ken each other better.”

She hesitated. “And where do ye propose to play this game?”

“In the drawing room, of course.”

Skyewantedto get to know Dougal. It was essential if she was going to finish her story, or else she would forever be stuck on that page, unable to finish the story that had captivated the Highlands.

She especially wanted to know about that precious little girl Lily.

A man who kept himself locked behind stone walls and rumors, who let people believe him a murderer rather than correct them, had a little girl tucked away who called himDaand begged him for a goat.

It didn’t fit. Or perhaps it fit too well, and that was what unsettled her. Skye was captivated by the story and wanted to find out more, but feared that she might overstep. Dougal was protective of the girl; that much was clear in the way he acted around her.

She thought of the careful way he’d cut the child’s meat into pieces small enough for her little hands, the patience in it, so at odds with the man she had written about. Which one was real?

Both, she supposed, though the thought did nothing to steady her.

Who was her mother? Why the secrecy? Was it because of enemies, shame, or something else entirely?

The questions piled up faster than she could sort them, each one snagging on the last. She thought of her unfinished story, the Lion she’d invented, cold and solitary, answerable to no one.

He’d never once had a daughter in her story. But this had always been more than a story. Dougal was a real man, after all.

Skye pressed her palm flat against the tabletop, willing her mind to settle. It didn’t. Whatever Dougal was hiding behind that mask, she was beginning to suspect it went far deeper than a scar.

They moved into the drawing room. Dougal sat down in front of the flickering flames and motioned for her to follow. She hesitated again, but only for a moment because she didn’t want to end the night quite yet.

“Truth or dare?” she asked, settling onto the rug before the fire, the unfinished story tucked beside her.

“Truth.” Dougal watched her the way he watched most things—carefully, like he expected a trap.

“Lily. Tell me about her.”

The moment Skye had seen the girl, she wasn’t sure what to think. Dougal had never given an inkling that he had a child. So, walking into dinner and seeing him cut the girl’s food had taken her by surprise. Her first thought had been that Lily was a relative, perhaps the child of a deceased sibling he had taken in and decided to raise as his own.

But then Lily had called him Da, and everything she had thought she knew about him—admittedly little—had flown out of her mind.

Dougal wasn’t the least surprised by her question. He seemed to have expected it. Then she remembered his warning never to speak a word of what went on within these walls. It likely had to do with Lily.

For some reason, Dougal was keeping her existence secret. Skye could not fathom why, unless he was trying to protect her. He had enemies, and a daughter could be a target, but even that explanation didn’t make much sense the more Skye thought about it.

“She’s nae mine by blood.” He said it plainly, without flinching. “But she is mine in every way that matters. I took her in when she had no one else, and I’ve raised her since.”

“That’s a kind thing to do for a man so many call a monster,” Skye said gently.

This man, she decided, had never been a monster. How could a monster raise a child that was not his own? He cared for Lily. That was obvious in the way he looked upon her with such love and adoration. He was besotted with her, as a parent should be with their children.

No, Dougal was not a monster. He would insist he was one, that much Skye was sure of, but she wasn’t going to accept that as truth.

“Monsters can still raise children, lass. They do it quietly, where nobody’s watching to ruin it for them.”