Page 48 of The Laird’s Lost Wife

Hunter’s face gave nothing away. He cleared his throat, shifting.

He’s uncomfortable. Did he think he could hide this from his mother forever? Maybe.

Now she had a choice. Did she stay silent and wait for Hunter to decide how to answer his mother?

Helena glanced at them both, making it clear that Daphne was still very much part of the conversation.

Or should she speak up? After all, she had a reputation for honesty. Such a thing was hard to earn, and very, very easy to lose.

Daphne cleared her throat, and Helena glanced at her.

“It’s true,” she admitted. “Hunter is Willow’s father. I daenae expect anything from him. I can take care of me own daughter.”

“And ye did nothing to support Daphne and yer daughter?” Helena hissed, shooting her son a reproachful look.

“It’s nae his fault,” Daphne interjected quickly. “It’s mine. I never told him, and he couldnae have found me. He had nay way of kenning about her. I could have told him at any time, but I didnae.”

Helena shifted to face her. “Well, why nae?”

“It’s complicated.”

“We have time.”

“Mother,” Hunter murmured, a warning note in his voice. “Leave it.”

Helena ignored him.

“I have questions,” she said firmly. “And I want answers.”

“Nae now.”

Once again, Helena shifted away. Her eyes narrowed, missing nothing.

“Do yer parents ken about this?” she pressed. “Yer name is familiar. Who are ye? Have we met? Do I ken yer kin?”

“L-Lady Helena, I⁠—”

“Oh, call me Helena. Ye have birthed me granddaughter, after all! We’re practically friends already. Tell me, who are yer kin? What clan are ye from? Nae from ours, I think. I’d have remembered. How did ye come to meet Hunter?”

“Mother,” Hunter gritted out.

She waved her hand at him, almost irritated. “Well, lass? Speak!”

“That is enough, Mother.” Hunter rose abruptly to his feet. “If ye have eaten enough, leave. If ye havenae eaten yer fill, I’ll have food sent to yer rooms. But ye will leave this room now.”

Helena scowled. “Ye cannae send me away. I want to⁠—”

“I am Laird MacCrimmon,” Hunter interrupted, his voice tight. “I am Laird here, nae ye. Remember yer place. Out.”

A long silence fell over the table.

Helena paled, just a little, her lips pressing tight together with disapproval. Wordlessly, she rose to her feet and flounced out of the room, never once looking back.

The atmosphere grew tenser after she’d gone. Daphne let out a ragged breath. She hadn’t even realized she was holding her breath.

And then, with a slightly delayed realization, she glanced up at Hunter and noticed that they were completely alone.

CHAPTER 11