Page 113 of The Laird’s Lost Wife

She froze, her back still turned to him. He longed to seize her shoulders and turn her to face him, but he forced himself to wait. Just a little longer.

Gingerly, he released her wrist, and she let her hand drop to her side.

“I kept dreaming that ye would come,” she whispered. “And then I’d wake up to the cold truth: that ye wouldnae come. It’s yer clan or me, is it nae?”

“Aye, I suppose so,” he agreed.

She turned to face him, her eyes heavy and tired. “I daenae resent ye, Hunter. If ye came to ask for me forgiveness, ye daenae need to. All I ask is that ye daenae disappear completely from Willow’s life. She adores ye, and I… I think she would be disappointed to learn that ye were gone.”

An ache bloomed in his chest. “I want to see Willow, I do. But I told ye, I want to see ye first. If ye are willing to talk to me, that is. Lady Pilbury thought that ye might be,” he added. “She mentioned that ye had guests, though.”

Daphne pulled a face. “Nae me guests. They’re gone, anyway. So, um, are ye sure ye daenae want tea? I can still get ye some. Laird MacCrimmon ought to be treated well after all, nay less than an English lord.”

Hunter smiled tiredly. “But I’m nae Laird MacCrimmon. Nae anymore.”

She went very still, staring at him. Disbelief and confusion flashed across her face, and her jaw slackened.

“What?” she breathed. “They cast ye out?”

Hunter gave a short laugh. “Cast me out? Nay, nay, lass! Nay. I just assembled the councilmen and told them I couldnae continue as Laird MacCrimmon. Nae if it meant losing ye. Putting ye in danger because of them. I left. I’m just Hunter Brennan now. A nobody.”

Daphne stared up at him for a long moment.

“Maybe this is because of the English company I’ve been keeping,” she whispered, “but I think I might faint.”

He flinched, reaching for her. “Daphne?”

She shook her head, lifting a hand, and shuffled past him to the sofa. She plopped down, her skirts pooling around her.

“Ye stepped down?” she asked. “Ye are nay longer Laird MacCrimmon? Who will take yer place?”

He shrugged. “Nae me concern. It’s the council’s concern. They didnae stop me when I left. Then again, I didnae give them a chance. Perhaps I made it easy for them. I fear for the clan, of course. I cannae just stop caring, much as I’d like to. But I’m nay longer the Laird, and that’s that.” He shrugged again.

Maybe one day he would feel as careless as he acted. Not today, though.

“So, ye are free now,” Daphne murmured slowly, her eyebrows knitting together.

He nodded. “I’m also yer neighbor.”

Daphne choked. “Ye are what?”

“Oh, I think ye heard me. Besides, I already told Laird Pilbury. I bought the estate next door. See, I’m nay longer Laird MacCrimmon, but I’m still an important man. Got money, too. Some, at least. Enough to buy the estate next door.”

Her eyes widened. “The estate next…”

“Aye. I said neighbor, did I nae?”

Daphne closed her eyes, leaning forward just a little. For a split second, he really was afraid that she was going to faint.

“Daphne?” he whispered, half-reaching forward.

He wanted to touch her cheek, to twist the soft locks of her hair around his finger, but was that too much? Maybe.

It seemed ridiculous to worry about that when they already had a child together. Already nearly got married.

He crouched before her, trying to look her in the eye. Eventually, she heaved a sigh and lifted her head, meeting his gaze.

“Yer vow, Hunter,” she whispered. “Ye broke it because of me.”