Page 51 of The Laird’s Lost Wife

Now, though, she wondered briefly how she could ever have forgotten that feeling at all. The sensation was a strange one, going round and round in her body with nowhere to go, making her swallow.

“Hunter…?” she breathed, curling her fingers into fists.

His breath hitched in his throat. “Aye, lass? Speak, come on. Tell me what it is ye have to say. Daenae make me beg. I daenae beg.”

Her eyes fluttered shut. When they opened again, she found his gaze fixed on her face, something almost fond in his eyes.

I cannae.

“I have to go,” she gabbled in a rush. The ache between her legs twinged, and she forced herself to push the sensation away in her mind. Ignoring it was almost impossible, but she could choose not to act upon it, surely?

She didn’t wait to see what he did or how he reacted. She turned on her heel and raced out of the room, plunging away into the darkness.

Children never ceased to be irritating, did they?

Helena seethed quietly as she strode along the hallway. Or limped, rather. Her bones were growing more brittle with every passing year, and her joints often felt like creaky door hinges in need of oiling. She’d left her walking stick in the dining room, and her pride wouldn’t allow her to go back for it. She could send a soldier or a maid back, but that was almost as humiliating as going back herself.

Out of necessity, she slowed her pace and moved closer to the stone wall, resting one hand on it as she went.

I have a grandchild from me son, she thought, excitement bubbling inside her. At last!

Willow was the sweetest, most adorable child she’d ever seen. She almost certainly didn’t know who her father was, and Helena had no intention of breaking that news until Daphne and Hunter were ready.

That raised other questions, such as what the two adults would do about it. The obvious solution was to wed, but Hunter had always refused to do that.

As for Daphne, she clearly had a great deal of pride and independence. That wasn’t a bad thing, but her pride would never allow her to unbend enough to wed the father of her child after five years alone.

Nae without help, in any case.

Helena, on the other hand, had always known when she needed allies. A woman didn’t serve as the lady of a tumultuous clan for as long as she had without picking up a few political knacks along the way.

She could have served as Laird and Lady MacCrimmon at once, in years gone by. That was how much of a ‘knack’ she’d gained at politics. She knew from experience how to tell whether a case needed help or should be left alone.

This was the former. Daphne and Hunter were too much alike. Proud, with deep feelings, and a powerful urge to help those they loved. That urge might bring them together, but not quite the sort of togetherness that Helena would have liked to see.

Not the sort of togetherness that she suspected they wanted.

She paused in a doorway, breathing heavily, almost doubled over.

“Me Lady?” sounded an anxious voice at her elbow, and she glanced over to find a soldier standing over her, clutching his pike. “Are ye hurt? Shall I fetch help? I could get Laird MacCrimmon; he’s just down the hall in the dining room. I could be there in a moment, I⁠—”

“Nay,” Helena interrupted, a little more crisply than she’d intended. “Nay, lad, I’m fine. Daenae disturb the Laird.”

The soldier blinked. “Well, if ye are sure. What help can I fetch ye? I could get Magnus.”

She reached up, patting his beardless cheek. “What a sweet boy. Nay, leave Magnus be. He already has the weight of the world on his shoulders. Or the weight of the clan, at least. If ever a man deserved rest, it’s him.”

The soldier didn’t seem convinced, but he nodded obediently, stepping back and letting her go on her way. That was good. She didn’t want any witnesses for the next part of her plan.

Her sore feet angled her toward the guest rooms, and she limped toward one room in particular. To her relief, a beam of light shone out from under the door. She knocked and waited.

A frail voice came from inside. “Yes?”

“Only me, Edith. Can I come in?”

“Yes, certainly.”

Helena pushed open the door and limped into Edith’s room.