Page 92 of The Laird’s Lost Wife

“Aye,” Daphne lied.

She wasn’t sure if her sister believed her or not. Anyway, it was something they could discuss later.

The betrothal couldn’t be broken off, not now that it was all over the castle. All over the clan, most likely.

It’s going to happen. I’m going to marry Hunter. I daenae ken how to feel about it. Thrilled, or terrified. Perhaps both.

A hand curled around hers. Ceana’s, of course.

“Daffie?” she whispered gently. “Ye are pale.”

“Here, sit down,” Skye instructed, pulling up a padded chair. “Sit. Come on.”

Daphne hadn’t meant to sit, but she found herself plopping down anyway. Ceana crouched before her, and Skye bent down, placing her hand on her shoulder.

“If ye are having second thoughts…” Skye began.

Daphne shook her head. “It’s complicated.”

Skye and Ceana exchanged confused looks.

“Do ye love me brother?” Skye asked gently.

Daphne closed her eyes. “It’s complicated,” she repeated.

Ceana took her hand. “Daffie, lass, ye can be honest with us. Tell me more about Willow.”

Daphne nodded tightly. “One of the reasons I came here—the main reason, if I’m being honest—is that I wanted Willow to ken her father. And she adores him already. He… He loves her, I can tell. He’s the father I hoped she would have. But things between us are so odd, so… I cannae describe it.”

“Distant?” Ceana suggested.

“Nay, nae distant. As I said, I cannae describe it. I cannae trust him. I want to trust him, I want to so badly, but I just… I cannae.”

“Me brother is good at keeping secrets,” Skye acknowledged. “But never harmful ones. He’s nae a spiteful man.”

“Nay, never that. But without trust, how can we marry? Our match is doomed from the very start. Marrying Hunter isnae an awful idea. It’s just…” Daphne trailed off, biting her lower lip.

Did Skye know about the vow? She must.

I could ask. Would she talk about it here, in front of Ceana? Once Ceana kens about it, she’ll be like a dog with a bone. She just willnae let go.

No, it was better to leave it. She’d find out one way or another. Wouldn’t she?

“Tell us how ye feel, Daphne,” Skye said firmly, kneeling down beside her. “We’ll have some food and drink brought up to ye. But ye must be honest with us, lass. Two days isnae a long time to plan a wedding, is it?”

Daphne let out a shaky breath. “Nay, it’s nay time at all.”

The party had ended a few hours ago, shortly before dawn broke.

Hunter had stayed awake for all of it. A laird was expected to stay awake for his own party, especially now that it had turned into a betrothal celebration.

He stood on top of the keep wall, leaning on the stone parapet, watching the last of the guests leave. As a matter of courtesy, he had offered the lairds and ladies who’d traveled from further away rooms for the night. Some had accepted, some hadn’t. Laird Gordon, for example, hadn’t accepted.

Horses and carriages trotted out through the gate, far beneath him. Some only had a few hours to travel, but most of them had longer journeys ahead. Hopefully, some would be able to sleep in the carriages on the way back.

They would be back in a few days for his wedding.

Me wedding, Hunter thought, shivering. I am getting married.