Page 79 of The Laird's Secret Bairn

“He’s gone, then,” Kenna said, not looking up.

“Aye.” Skye sank into the chair beside her, the weight of Dougal’s parting words heavy in her chest. “For the week, he said.”

“He’ll be back before the cèilidh. He gave me his word, and me son doesnae break his word lightly.” Kenna set down the quill, studying her face with open concern.

“The cèilidh?”

She smiled. “I managed to convince him to throw a cèilidh to celebrate Lily’s recovery. He didnae think it was a good idea, but I assured him that it’s the only way to show the world she is one of us—which she is.”

“If ye think it’s a good idea, then I agree with ye.”

“Dougal will be back in time, Skye. Ye neednae worry about that. I ken me son; he wouldnae miss celebrating his daughter’s recovery for the world.” She paused then. “Ye look as though ye’ve swallowed something bitter, lass.”

“I’m only tired.”

“Mm.” Kenna clearly didn’t believe her, but she let it slide. “We’ve a cèilidh to plan and precious little time to plan it properly. Best we set our minds to that, daenae ye think? It’ll do us both good.”

“Aye. What do ye need from me?”

“First, we must think of Lily.” Kenna’s expression softened. “She’s been through a fright none of us can properly imagine, and though the healer says she’s mending well, I worry about her spirits more than her body.”

“She has been quieter than usual.”

It hurt Skye to see Lily clam up the way she had. The girl had always been joyful and talkative since Skye arrived at the castle. She was the reason why Skye had felt at home so soon after arriving. But her spark had dimmed since the poisoning, and it was all that horrid man’s fault, if Dougal’s suspicions were correct.

“Far quieter. Nae so much as a peep about her goat in two days, and that alone tells me plenty.” Kenna tapped her chinthoughtfully. “We need something to bring the light back to her eyes before the cèilidh, something that’s entirely hers, nae just another celebration thrown in her honor that she must sit through and smile for.”

“A gift, perhaps? Something small, just for her.”

“Aye, that’s the spirit.” Kenna’s eyes brightened. “What did ye have in mind?”

Skye mulled it over. “She loves stories. And animals. Perhaps… a book, written just for her. Stories of her own, about Blossom and the goat and all their adventures together. I could write them out, and ye could help me choose which tales she’d love best.”

She could put her skills to use and give Lily a present she would surely remember. The girl loved her stories. She was always begging her to tell her a story, so she would always have a story to read even after Skye went back home.

No. Skye wasn’t going to think about that right now. She wasn’t going to think about leaving. She knew she would be going home sooner than she realized, but right now her entire focus was on Lily, as it should be. There was no one else she would rather think of than the little girl who had captured her heart.

Dougal had also captured a part of her.

Kenna nodded earnestly. “Skye, that’s a fine idea! A book of her very own, filled with stories of her mischief. She’d treasure it above any cèilidh, I daresay.”

“I could start today, if ye think it a good use of me time.”

“I think it’s the very best use of yer time.” Kenna reached over, squeezing her hand gently. “Ye’ve a gift for kenning exactly what the child needs, lass. I hope ye ken how much everything ye’ve done for her these past weeks means.”

Skye’s throat tightened unexpectedly. “She’s easy to love.”

“Aye, she is. And so are ye, though ye seem determined nae to believe it.” Kenna’s gaze turned knowing, though she didn’t press further. “Go on, then. Fetch yer pages, and we’ll set to work. I’ll tell ye every bit of mischief the lassie has caused since she was old enough to walk, and ye can turn it into something she’ll keep forever.”

28

Dougal had everything planned.

He decided he was going to kill the man who had dared to try to take his daughter from him, but when he arrived at Anderson Castle, he found a man unprepared for war.

They were shown into the great hall of Castle Lawson, seat of Clan Lawson since Elsie's own grandfather held it, the stone walls hung with tapestries gone dull with age and dust. The servant led them into the great hall of Castle Lawson without ceremony, a few guards watching warily but making no move to stop them.

Angus was in mourning.