Page 55 of The Laird's Secret Bairn

Perhaps she should listen to him, she thought as she dipped her quill once more. Perhaps she should keep her distance, the way he’d warned her to from the very start, before whatever this was between them grew roots too deep to pull free without losing something of herself in the process.

She wrote another line, unable to stop herself.

The lass never meant to yearn for the Lion. But some things, she was learning, could not be helped no matter how carefully one guarded against them.

She read the lines back once more, quill hovering, before finally setting it aside for the night. However, sleep felt further away now than it had on any night since her arrival.

Freya was going to be cross that she hadn’t listened to her advice. She had warned her several times before she got into the carriage that day until Skye grew irritated with her and begged her to stop.

“I ken!” Skye assured her.

Freya frowned, shaking her head. “I daenae think ye do.”

It seemed Freya had been right.

Emily had given her similar advice but didn’t repeat it as many times.

Skye set the memory aside, along with the guilt that came with it. There was no undoing what had already been agreed to, and dwelling on her sister's warnings would do nothing but keep her awake longer than she already meant to be. Better to turn her thoughts toward the one thing that had finally, blessedly, come easily to her.

Skye was thrilled that she had finally overcome her writer’s block. She had been struggling with it for so long that she never thought she would be able to finish the latest chapter of her story.

Her readers were going to be surprised by the turn the story was taking. Some might not be thrilled, but she had already written it out, and she was not going to change her mind about the ending.

Not for Freya, who would surely have opinions the moment she read it. Not for the readers who had grown so attached to the cold Lion she had first encountered, the one who bore no resemblance to the man she had come to know beneath the mask.

Whatever rumors ended up following the pages once they found their way into the world was beyond her control. She was going to finish writing, release the pages, and let whatever happened happen.

She’d spent long enough letting other people’s whispers shape her thoughts, tiptoeing around what she truly wanted to write, what she wanted to say.

But no more. If people wished to gossip about the Lion who knelt before children and touched her as if she mattered, then so be it.

20

Dougal was working when his mother found him in the study. He realized he was humming and stopped the second she walked in.

Stephen had accused him of whistling, which he had denied. And now he braced himself for his mother’s remark about his humming. He would deny it until his last breath.

“Stephen was right. Ye are in a fine mood this morning!” Kenna chirped.

He paused. “Ye spoke to Stephen?”

“Aye. He claimed ye were whistling a happy little tune. I didnae believe it when he told me, so I thought,Kenna, why didnae ye see it yerself?”

“And what is the conclusion ye have come to, Maither? I would love to hear yer thoughts.”

Kenna’s smile never wavered. “Stephen was wrong.”

“He was?”

“Aye. Ye arenae whistling. Ye arehumming.”

Apparently, Dougal hadn’t stopped humming quickly enough. If he had, he would have been able to avoid this conversation.

“I wasnae humming.”

Kenna crossed her arms over her chest. “Is that the excuse ye have decided to go with?”

“It isnae an excuse. I wasnae humming.”