Page 12 of The Highlander’s Auctioned Hellion (Auctioned Highland Brides #4)

“We have had word from Lady Moira’s father, Lord McCarthy.”

Callum’s shoulders tensed.

“Has he finally declared war? It didnae take her long to get her claws into him again.”

Alexander shook his head. “Nay, M’Laird, that’s just it. He has denied that he sent those men to attack ye. He has even wished ye well on yer weddin’.”

“That bastard,” Callum muttered as they made their way down the long corridor to his study.

Pushing through the door, he marched to his desk, throwing aside the papers that he had piled there the night before.

He rummaged through some rolls of parchment that had been neatly placed in a barrel beneath the window and drew out the plans of the castle, laying them out for them both to see.

“We will need to increase security; there is every chance that she will try to penetrate our defenses.”

“Dae ye think she will come for the girls?” Alexander asked.

Callum’s heart was thudding wildly. “Either that or she will target Lydia. Moira was mad before. There is every chance she is still obsessed with the idea of us bein’ together.”

Alexander shifted his weight, tugging awkwardly at his sleeve.

“I am sorry I ever believed her lies, M’Laird.”

Callum scowled. “We have repaid that debt, or dae ye need me to remind ye?”

“Nay, I think once was enough,” Alexander said, rubbing a hand over his chest.

“We’ll station guards at the gates and above through the night. I want a twenty-four-hour watch, and runners stationed here and here. If anythin’ unusual is sighted, I am to be told. I dinnae wish to have anythin’ held back from me, is that clear?”

“Aye, M’Laird,” Alexander said, as Callum stood up, assessing the points of the castle that might be the most vulnerable to attack.

“Dae ye think she will come?” Alexander asked, his left hand moving subconsciously to the handle of his sword.

“I dinnae ken. But I dinnae believe she really wants her children back. She just wants to punish me for takin’ them from her.”

“Moira was never a good mother to those girls. They ran riot around the castle, and she never checked on them, or knew where they were half the time.”

“They dinnae behave like that now,” Callum muttered. “I suppose with a monster in their midst, they’re too scared to misbehave.”

“Ye are nay monster, M’Laird.”

Callum continued to stare at the map of the castle, even as a touch of warmth spread through his chest at his friend’s words.

He had missed Alexander’s counsel. There was a time when he had thought of him as a brother— but those days are over.

“I want a list of every guard on me watch. Every wall must be manned at all times, every entrance covered. We cannae be sure what Moira will dae, but I dinnae believe she wishes me well on me weddin’ day.”

Alexander leaned over the table as they began plotting out where the guards should be placed and how the shifts would be managed.

Callum didn’t want to take any chances.

He paused as he heard rapid footsteps outside the door. Frowning, he strode over to it, jerking it open to find Lydia on the other side staring up at him in shock.

“I am sorry,” she said, turning in place and looking up and down the corridor. “I don’t know how I ended up here. This place is such a labyrinth.”

Callum crossed his arms over his chest— was she listenin’ at the door?

“And where were ye tryin’ to get to?” he asked.

“I’m not sure.”

“How can ye nae be sure?” he asked, his suspicion mounting with every breath.

“I agreed to play hide-and-seek with the girls. But I didn’t realize how much of the castle I don’t know yet. I have gotten lost thrice already, and there is no sign of them anywhere!”

“That is hardly yer fault, M’Lady,” Alexander said from behind him. “Someone should give ye a tour.”

Callum looked back at him, glowering ferociously, but Alexander just grinned.

Turning back to Lydia, Callum stared up the long, winding corridor with the passages and doorways coming off it on all sides.

Now that he came to think of it, he had taken for granted how big the castle was. He had been walking these halls since his youth, but to someone who had never set foot in it before, he could imagine it being just as Lydia had said—a confusing maze.

“All right,” he said reluctantly. “I can show ye around. It is important ye ken the layout of me castle.”

To keep ye safe should someone penetrate our defenses.

He turned back to Alexander. “Dae as I said and report to me when it is done.”

“Aye, M’Laird.”

Callum stepped into the corridor, looking down at Lydia’s upturned face and clenching his jaw.

The last thing he wanted to do was spend more time with her. Particularly when, every time he saw her in that dress, his body seemed to forget that it was meant to stay away from her.

“Where exactly did the wee girls go?”

“Well, they left through the side door of the dining hall, but I followed after them and then ended up here.”

“Ye have gone round in a circle.”

“Oh.”

“Come on, I’ll show ye the way back, and we can retrace yer steps. If they get lost, we have bigger things to worry about. They ken this castle better than I do, and they’ll be jumpin’ out on us for the rest of the day.”

Lydia followed Callum’s wide back through the corridors, still unable to believe how large he seemed in the huge space.

Every time she was around him, it was becoming a little harder to draw a full breath. She was addicted to his scent. It was difficult to place, but it reminded her of the wild wind on a moorland and the leather of a horse’s saddle.

He seemed to spend most of his time just wearing a thin léine over his torso, and she was mesmerized by the play of muscles across his back.

In a few minutes, they reached the dining hall, and Callum turned to her, crossing his gigantic arms over his chest and fixing her with a piercing stare.

“Well? Where did ye lose them?”

“I didn’t lose them. They are hiding.”

“Did ye play hide-and-seek with yer braither?” he asked. “Because ye are nae very good at it.”

“Actually, I was very good at finding Tommy because he always hid in the same places. Our house was quite a lot smaller than this castle, too.”

“Well, which door did they go through?”

“That one,” she said, pointing to the side where a heavy door led outward toward the lower halls.

She watched, fascinated, as that same little smile flirted at the corner of his lips. He smothered it quickly, clearing his throat.

“Aye, I have a feelin’ I ken where they’ve gone. Those girls could eat me out of house and home, and they’ll be aimin’ for the kitchen.”

“Won’t the cook be angry if they interfere with her kitchen? We were never permitted to go near ours. She was a gorgon.”

Callum scoffed. “Accordin’ to me housekeeper, they’ve had me cook wrapped around their little fingers since they were tiny. One of the first things she told me when I returned was that they were demons and stole every cake they could get their hands on.”

“When you returned from where?” Lydia asked eagerly, but his expression became closed off again.

“Come on. Are we lookin’ or talkin’?”

Lydia followed behind him, but his angry tone didn’t quite ring true today. It almost seemed to her as if he changed the growl in his voice to end conversations, rather than being truly angry.

His shoulders were relaxed, his stride languid as he made his way along the passage.

She felt a little thrill rush through her as she realized he was actively helping search for the girls rather than simply giving her a tour.

“The kitchen is up ahead of us, and this door leads to the main hall. The doors in this castle are a map. If ye see the dark wood with three bolts through the center, those are the passages to the main entrance halls. If ye ever need to get out of the castle, follow those bolts to the outside.”

And why would I need to escape the castle?

“This corridor leads to the kitchens, ye can tell with the copper brackets in the stone. Once ye’re out in the rear corridors behind, ye’ll find stairs to yer right and left. If ye are ever lost, they’ll lead ye back to yer bed chamber.”

He opened the door to the kitchen, and a flurry of noise and activity rushed out toward them.

Three or four women were working busily inside. One throwing a large circle of dough onto a wooden table and kneading it roughly with her hands.

One was cleaning, the other standing over a pot of boiling potatoes. An older woman with wiry, flyaway hair was decorating a beautiful fruit pie.

As Callum entered, she looked up at him, putting her hands on her hips and reminding Lydia of her mother.

“And what are ye doin’ disturbin’ me in me kitchen, M’Laird? I have had enough trouble with the little critters today.”

Before he could answer, a man carrying a large barrel of wine came through a side door without looking.

The gigantic barrel swung around alarmingly, about to hit Lydia full in the face, when she found herself lifted off her feet and deposited behind Callum as he stepped in front of her.

“Look where ye’re walkin’, man,” he snapped, as the man spun in place, almost toppling over in surprise.

Callum plucked the barrel from his hands effortlessly, holding it up until the man had righted himself, and then handing it back.

“Sorry, M’Laird,” he said, his eyes widening as he took in the scars on Callum’s face before he scurried away.

Lydia stepped around Callum, holding out her hand to the cook.

“I am Lydia Turner,” she said with a smile. “I have misplaced the girls and am looking for them.”

The cook’s eyes twinkled as she shook her hand.

“Aye, they get ‘lost’ in this place quite often. Usually, when I have made scotch pies.”

“What are those?” Lydia asked.

There was a weighted silence.

“Ye dinnae ken what a scotch pie is, M’Lady? I shall have to make them for tonight. Ye cannae live yer life and nae try a scotch pie. What dae they feed ye in England?”

“Well, I have had chicken pie before.”

“Tsk, chicken pie,” the cook said derisively. “Scotch Pies are spiced mutton, sweet and moist, and much better than any other pie you’ve ever tasted. I am changin’ the dinner tonight, M’Laird. We need to feed this wee thing and get some fat on her bones.”

Lydia laughed as the cook began to busy herself with her task.

“Come on,” Callum said firmly. “The girls arenae here, and I think we should leave before she starts plyin’ ye with food to eat.”

They left through a small rear door and emerged into a long corridor with stairs leading away from them, and as they ascended, they came up to a long room lined with portraits.

Small windows ran along the left-hand side, casting light over the paintings.

Callum looked as if he was keen to move through as swiftly as possible, but Lydia lingered, looking up at each one with interest.

She paused as she came across a large portrait of Callum standing beside a beautiful blonde-haired woman. Her stomach dropped, staring up at her face, amazed at how painful it was to see him standing beside another woman.

Callum had reached the door at the other end of the corridor but sighed with exasperation when she didn’t immediately follow him, coming back to stand beside her.

Lydia swallowed, composing herself as she glanced at him. He was gazing up at the portrait almost wistfully, and her stomach clenched.

“Were you betrothed before?” she asked, the words tasting like ash in her mouth.

Callum grunted, a vein throbbing in his temple.

“Dinnae trouble yerself, lass. That isnae me.”

Lydia stared at him, then back at the portrait. The man in the painting was identical to Callum, save for his scars.

“You were twins?” she asked. “Like the girls?”

“Aye. That’s Angus. Me braither. But he’s dead and gone.”

Why is it that I prefer Callum more with scars than without?

Sensing the atmosphere in the air, Lydia gave a cursory glance around the long space and shrugged.

“Well, it doesn’t look like the girls are in here, either.”

Callum took hold of her elbow, leading her out of the room and closing the door decisively behind them. They were next to a long spiral staircase that Lydia had not seen before, and she glanced upwards, turning to him curiously.

“Where does this lead?”

Callum’s eyes followed the line of the stairs. “Come with me and I’ll show ye.”