Page 44 of Tempted by a Highland Beast (Tales of Love and Lust in the Murray Castle #9)
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
T he following morning, Constantine found Lilias sitting alone in the library, occupying one of the worn leather chairs, an open book resting limp in her lap like something forgotten.
She stared at nothing in particular, her dark eyes reflecting a stillness that was more unsettling than tears would have been. Her small frame seemed even smaller in the oversized chair, as if the events of the previous day had somehow diminished her.
She didn’t look up when Constantine entered, didn’t acknowledge his presence with so much as a glance. He studied her for a moment, noting the brittle composure that spoke of someone working very hard to maintain control.
Constantine moved quietly across the room, selecting a chair near hers but not so close as to feel invasive. Lilias might be his half-sister, yet there was little closeness between them, and he had no wish to press upon her unease.
Lilias spoke first, her voice so soft he had to strain to hear it. “Dae ye plan tae send me away now?”
“Send ye where?” he asked, noticing the way her hands trembled slightly despite her attempt to appear unconcerned.
“A nunnery, maybe. Or tae one of our cousins in the Lowlands.” Lilias’s voice remained carefully neutral, but her knuckles were white where she gripped the book. “Now that Faither’s gone, there’s nay real place fer me here. I understand the way of things.”
The idea that Lilias might believe even for a moment that he would cast her aside like unwanted baggage was absurd. It made him wonder what kind of fear and uncertainty she must have grown up with under their late brother’s shadow to feel such unease now that their father was gone.
“Nay,” he said firmly, his voice cutting through the morning quiet with absolute certainty. “Ye stay fer as long as ye want. This is yer home, Lilias. It always will be.”
For the first time since he’d entered the room, Lilias looked directly at him, her dark eyes wide with surprise and something that might have been hope. “Ye mean that?”
“Aye,” Constantine said simply. “We may nae share the same blood entire, but ye’re under me watch now. And I dinnae abandon what’s mine.”
The words were blunt, lacking in flowery sentiment, but the promise beneath them was real and unshakeable. Constantine had learned long ago that actions mattered more than pretty words, and his commitment to Lilias was as solid as the stone walls of Duart itself.
Lilias blinked rapidly, her carefully maintained composure finally beginning to crack. “I dinnae want tae be alone,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “I ken it’s weak, but I’m nae ready tae face the world on me own.”
“It’s nae weak,” Constantine said in an attempt to comfort her. “And ye are nae alone.”
“Thank ye,” Lilias said and place hesitantly her hand over Constantine’s. “Ye’ve changed, ye ken,” Lilias added, her voice carrying a note of wonder. “Since the day ye arrived at Duart. The man who walked through those gates seemed... harder. More closed off.”
Constantine considered her words, recognizing the truth in them even as part of him wanted to deny it. “Have I?”
“Aye.” Lilias’s smile was small but genuine. “Ye still have that look that makes grown men step back, but there’s somethin’ else now. Somethin’ softer.” She paused, studying his face with a perceptive gaze. “It’s Rowena, isnae it? She brought it out in ye.”
Before Constantine could respond, Rowena, as if summoned, appeared in the doorway wearing a simple dress of black wool. Her face was soft with concern as she looked between Constantine and Lilias.
“I hope I’m nae intrudin’,” she said quietly. “I heard voices and thought…”
“Ye’re nae intrudin’,” Constantine said, rising from his chair with fluid grace. “Come in. Please.”
Rowena moved into the room with that natural confidence that had drawn him to her from the beginning, but her expression remained gentle as she approached Lilias. She settled into the chair on Lilias’s other side and reached for the younger woman’s hand.
“How are ye holdin’ up?” Rowena asked, her voice carrying the kind of genuine concern that couldn’t be feigned.
Lilias looked down at their joined hands, her throat working as she struggled with emotion. “Better now,” she said honestly. “Constantine’s said I can stay. That this is still me home.”
“Of course it is,” Rowena said with firm conviction. “Ye’re family, Lilias. Naethin’ changes that.”
For the first time since Constantine had found her in the library, Lilias smiled; a real smile that transformed her face and chased away some of the shadows that had gathered around her. “Family,” she repeated, as if testing the word on her tongue. “I like the sound of that.”
Constantine found himself looking at the two women—his wife and his sister—and feeling something settle into place in his chest. This was what belonging felt like, he realized.
Not just the claiming of title or territory, but this quiet moment of connection, of people choosing to stand together because they wanted to, not because they had to.
“Aye,” he said quietly, his voice rough with emotion he didn’t try to hide. “Family.”
The peaceful moment was shattered by the sound of boots in the corridor, quick and urgent steps that spoke of important news. Constantine was on his feet before Finlay appeared in the doorway, his travel-stained clothes and exhausted expression immediately commanding attention.
“Me laird,” Finlay said, his breathing slightly labored as if he’d been riding hard. “I bring news from MacKenzie territory.”
Constantine felt every muscle in his body tense, his instincts immediately alert to danger. Beside him, Rowena had gone very still, her hand still clasped in Lilias’s but her attention focused entirely on Finlay.
“Speak,” Constantine commanded, his voice carrying the authority of a man prepared for bad news.
Finlay’s gaze flicked to Rowena, his expression troubled. “Alpin has declared ye dead. Killed, he claims, while in MacLean lands.”
Rowena’s face went white, her free hand coming up to press against her throat as if she could feel phantom fingers closing around it. Lilias gasped, her grip tightening on Rowena’s hand in instinctive support.
“Dead?” Rowena’s voice was barely a whisper.
“Aye,” Finlay confirmed grimly. “He’s told the clan that ye were murdered by MacLean warriors, that yer body was found in the woods near the border. He’s positioned himself as the clan’s savior, the only one who can preserve MacKenzie honor and secure their future.”
Constantine felt fury rise in his chest, cold and controlled but murderous. The calculating cruelty of Alpin’s move was breathtaking, not just stealing Rowena’s inheritance, but erasing her very existence from the world.
Finlay stepped forward with a leather satchel. He began pulling out items, scraps of fabric, a broken clan badge, pieces of evidence gathered during his reconnaissance.
“These were found at the sites where Alpin’s men have been spreading their false tale,” Finlay reported. “He’s nae just claiming she’s dead—he’s manufacturing proof. Torn clothing, bloodstained cloth. He’s selling the story tae anyone who will listen.”
“How did the elders react?” Constantine asked, his voice deceptively calm.
“From what I could learn, they are rallyin’ behind him,” Finlay said with obvious reluctance. “They’re desperate and grievin’, and Alpin’s offered them hope. He’s promised a marriage alliance with one of the southern clans, says it’s the only way tae preserve MacKenzie strength.”
Rowena sat in stunned silence, the full scope of Alpin’s betrayal sinking in.
“What cruelty this is,” she said finally, her voice hollow.
“With me dead, he’s nay longer an usurper, he’s a grieving uncle stepping up tae save his clan.
The elders will support him because they think they have nay choice. ”
Constantine moved to stand behind her chair, his hands coming to rest on her shoulders in a gesture that was both protective and possessive. “It willnae stand,” he said, his voice carrying absolute certainty. “I willnae let it stand.”
Rowena looked up at him, seeing the cold fury in his dark eyes, the set of his jaw that spoke of violence barely contained.
“What can we dae?” Lilias asked, her young voice carrying the same fierce protectiveness that Constantine felt. “How dae we fight someone who’s already declared ye dead?”
Constantine was quiet for a long moment, his mind working through the implications and possibilities. When he finally spoke, his voice was steady, resolved. “We prove Rowena’s very much alive,” he said.
“If Alpin wants tae steal her name and her clan, then he’ll have tae face me in the open.”
Rowena stood from her chair and turned to Constantine, her hazel eyes blazing with determination. “I want me clan back. I want me birthright. And I want Alpin tae answer fer what he’s done.”
Constantine’s smile was sharp, predatory, filled with the promise of violence to come. “Then we’ll give ye all of that and more. Anyone who threatens what’s important tae me learns exactly why that’s a mistake they’ll nae live tae repeat.”