Page 30 of The Highlander’s Auctioned Hellion (Auctioned Highland Brides #4)

Callum stood at the end of the path outside the castle gates, watching the shape of the carriage dwindle into the distance.

He clenched his fists, his teeth grinding together as he listened to the horses’ hooves fade away.

Damn the woman.

There was no reason for Lydia to have left him. He would get the girls back, and he would bring them home. She had panicked needlessly, making everything more complicated than it needed to be.

In a matter of hours, they would be a family again.

We will be a family again.

Callum’s chest tightened as that thought took hold. But what kind of family would they be?

Throughout her time with him, Lydia had asked what it was he needed from her, and he had told her. He had always been open about their future life together, about their marriage.

And yet none of that seems to matter anymore. All I want to dae is saddle me horse and gallop after that carriage.

But he knew he couldn’t. She had left him to save the girls; if he were to bring her back now, that would all be for nothing.

And yet he knew Moira would not stand by her word. It seemed that all she wanted, even after all this time, was him.

Callum scowled, wishing that he could erase the past and start afresh. He glared at the distant hills and the long road back to London and turned, heading back up the path toward the castle.

Guards flanked him on all sides. Callum wanted to scream, to rip his léine from his shoulders. Frustration, like nothing he had ever felt, began to rise within him.

What should I dae?

He had intended to gather himself and go and get the girls the following day. He needed to plan, to think. The fact that Lydia was gone was a good thing; it meant fewer distractions.

He could continue as before. It did not matter whether she was present in the castle when the girls returned. Callum could care for the twins for the short term and then…

“What you need from me is a nursemaid for those girls. You have made it very clear that we are not together in any real way.”

Callum swallowed, guilt rising in his heart at the memory of those words. Scratching at his chest, he turned at the gates of the castle, looking outward to his lands. He glowered at the horizon.

There was a dark shadow rising over the distant hills—a sure sign that a storm was coming.

Kristen still stood to his left, a silent presence. Her lips were pursed, her gaze fixed on the direction of the carriage. When their eyes met, she did not speak; her brow furrowed, eyes narrowing.

I dinnae have to explain meself. This was Lydia’s choice.

As he walked back through the archway, Alexander appeared at his elbow, walking beside him as they entered the main corridor.

Callum expected his man-at-arms to speak, to give some type of counsel following the events that had taken place, but he remained silent.

They reached Callum’s study and walked inside. Callum headed to the rolls of parchment in a barrel behind his desk.

He would review McCarthy’s castle and the lay of his lands, plan the best approach, and set off at first light. If he could take them by surprise, he was more likely to be able to find the girls without bloodshed.

Callum Lawson did not act rashly. He thought things through and made sure he was prepared before walking into a fight.

He pulled the parchment from the barrel, turning to find Alexander standing opposite his desk, one hand resting on the hilt of his sword.

“What are ye lookin’ like thunder for?” Callum asked him.

Alexander’s only response was to shrug a shoulder. “Are ye plannin’ to go to McCarthy’s tomorrow?”

“Aye. We need the element of surprise. If we go before dawn, we’ll arrive at the changin’ of the watch. I’ll kill every man on the watch if I have to, to get those girls back.”

“Aye, M’Laird.”

Callum laid the map of McCarthy’s lands over the desk. He focused on the pathways that would lead him back to the girls, on the best direction to approach from.

But all he could see as he looked at it was the wrong road to London, and Lydia driving away from him.

I will never be able to hold her again.

Callum scowled, pushing the thought away. Placing a finger on the east side of the castle, he looked to Alexander again.

“I have been to the castle before. The main entrance is heavily guarded, but there is a rear door here where the guards come and go. We can make our way inside from there.”

“And then?”

Callum paused. “ And then I take the girls and bring them back with me. ”

Alexander shifted his weight. “And then?”

Callum blinked, staring into his friend’s eyes.

And what will happen then? If McCarthy doesnae retaliate, things will go back to the way they were before.

Before Lydia came. Before he had a confidante and companion to tuck them in at night.

The more he thought through the plan, the more dissatisfied he became with it.

Nothing about this situation was satisfactory. He did not like that Lydia had taken her departure into her own hands, that she had not listened to reason, that she was gone.

Everything was in disarray, the castle too quiet, the future too uncertain.

He wanted the girls back now, not tomorrow, not in a few hours—this instant.

Callum wanted to believe that the reason behind that desire was his loyalty to his brother. His brother had trusted no one else with the care of the girls. It was Callum’s responsibility to ensure they were safe.

But that was not the only reason. He wanted them back so that Lydia would return. He wanted them back so that they could finally be a family again.

Family.

Callum stepped back from the table, meeting Alexander’s eye as shock rippled through him. That word had not meant anything to him for years. Family had meant betrayal for so long that he had forgotten what it meant.

But it was no longer simply about his blood relatives, about duty and responsibility.

Lydia was part of it all. Since her arrival, her presence had become essential to him in a way he had never expected. It was as if she were sewn into the very fabric of the castle, and now that she was gone, nothing felt whole.

I want her back. I have to get her back.

His man-at-arms was entirely still, waiting for his next command.

“Ye think I am a fool, I take it,” Callum said slowly, as Alexander’s eyebrows raised.

“Nay, M’Laird, I have never thought ye were a fool in yer life.”

“Yet I have allowed her to leave. Ye wouldnae have done it.”

Alexander leaned his head to one side. “Ye dae as ye see fit.”

“Stop placatin’ me, man.”

The man-at-arms stepped up to the desk and fixed Callum with a long stare.

“What dae ye want, M’Laird?”

Callum set his jaw. “I want me wife and me children back.”

Alexander gave a slow smile. “Then go and get them.”

“Aye,” Callum said, glancing down at the desk and the papers piled high on all sides. “But before I dae, I need ye to find somethin’ for me.”

Callum left Alexander to manage the castle, guards at every door in case McCarthy chose to attack while he was gone.

With every thundering step of Seamus’ hooves, Callum felt certainty pulsing through his veins. He had two things to achieve—to save the girls and to get Lydia to come home.

She belongs with me.

He felt foolish for not having recognized his feelings before now. Women had only ever been good for one thing—ruining a man and driving him mad.

Yet, little by little, he had begun to see how different Lydia was from the twisted picture he had created in his mind. She was kind, generous, and loving. She had embraced her life in the Highlands, throwing herself into everything she did.

As he rode across the moorlands, he was flooded with moments they had shared, the smiles she had sent his way, her laugh.

He spurred Seamus forward, hands tightening on the reins.

I will get her back. I have to.

But first, he had to save the girls from the clutches of their own mother.

As he galloped across the border of his lands into McCarthy’s, he banked left, sending Seamus into a copse of trees and the edges of the forests.

It was early afternoon, and as evening approached, the storm clouds that had threatened were still looming on the horizon. He welcomed the prospect of rain. It would be more difficult to be seen in the midst of a storm.

He slowed Seamus to a walk, watching the glint of steel along the battlements of the castle as the guards moved about their posts.

Callum assessed their defenses. His plan to arrive at dawn and take them by surprise would no longer be possible—but the other part of his plan was still possible if he was stealthy and careful.

Tying Seamus’ reins to a tree branch, he dismounted, keeping his sword close to his side as he walked through the trees.

There was every chance that McCarthy had men in the woods, and he did not want to give away his position before he was ready.

A smile flitted over his lips as he recalled what Lydia said about women being taught to fight. He did not doubt that if she were given some skill with a blade, she would defeat most of the men in McCarthy’s employ to get to those girls.

He stopped, just at the edge of the tree line, looking up at the high walls ahead of him. The castle was surrounded by a moat, lily pads fanning out across the surface like a carpet of tangled roots and leaves, and tiny, spiked white flowers.

Above him, windows were facing outward on the McCarthy lands, but no lights glowed there just yet. The sun was fading, and slowly, he moved out from his position and ran, keeping his body bent double as he reached the edge of the moat.

Sliding down the bank, he slipped into the freezing water without making a sound. Keeping his movements slow and controlled, he swam across the short stretch of water. The bottom was barely deep enough to prevent him from standing.

Reaching the other side in minutes only, he pulled himself silently out, keeping watch for any guards patrolling the perimeter.

Staying against the castle walls, he ran around the edge to the east side. By some miracle, the foot soldiers had remained on the opposite wall, and he found the side door without interruption.

It was closed, and he spent a minute or two deciding whether he should storm inside and attack. But then, as he waited, there was a rumbling voice from within, and a servant emerged carrying an empty basket toward the loch.

Callum remained still, holding his breath. He was exposed along the line of the wall and could only hope that the man did not turn and see him. As the door swung shut, the servant continued on his way without looking behind him, and Callum was able to slip inside.

He arrived in some kind of pantry, with hares, rabbits, and grouse hanging from the ceiling. Cheeses and hams were stacked against the walls, and the smell of fresh food made his hunger spike.

Voices were coming from the kitchen, one of them getting closer as he stood in the dark space behind the door.

Stepping to the side, he pushed through an adjoining door that brought him out to the long hallway with doors on every side leading to a long staircase.

The question is, where would Moira have hidden the girls?

It occurred to him that she might have locked them in a chamber somewhere to deal with later. She had never been a natural mother and did not cope well with having the girls around her at the best of times.

The difficulty was not knowing the layout of the castle. If he had been a slighter man, he might have been able to conceal himself without being found, but the chances of that grew slimmer if he wandered from room to room.

Still, he had little choice. Listening and exploring seemed to be the best course of action. If he kept to the rear corridors, there was a chance he would not be discovered.

He had resolved to begin with the staircase at the end of the hall when, suddenly, he heard a cry from the same direction.

Grimacing, he tiptoed along the passage. He recognized Amy’s voice in that cry, scared and unhappy.

If that harpy has harmed me children, I will kill her with me bare hands.

As he reached the staircase, there was a door off to the right, and he opened it a crack to see inside.

It opened onto a large dining hall.

Laird McCarthy was standing beside the fireplace, his arms outstretched, as he gesticulated at someone on the other side of the room.

Callum squinted through the gap and could just see Moira reflected in a large mirror on the wall, but he could not see the girls.

Then he heard them.

“We dinnae want to stay with ye!” That was Eilis, her voice defiant and angry. “We want to go home.”

“Ye would rather live with yer uncle than yer own maither?” McCarthy demanded.

Moira was scowling, her hands stiff, long nails bent like claws as she gestured toward the girls. Eilis came into view, walking toward the fireplace, holding tightly onto Amy’s hand.

So tiny but so fierce.

“They are good for nothing!” Moira shrieked. “They are selfish little wretches who have been spoiled by their father all their lives. I have half a mind to lock them in the dungeons with the rats. That will teach them a life lesson worth learning.”

“Moira, you need to be calm,” McCarthy attempted, but Moira was not listening. Her face was twisted into a familiar snarl.

That is her true face. Behind the beauty, there is only cruelty.

“I dinnae need to be calm, I need me children to obey . That is what I have been tellin’ them me whole life, but they dinnae listen to me. Selfish little ingrates!”

Eilis and Amy were standing perfectly still, Eilis watching her mother with a look of loathing that Callum had rarely seen. She was a sweet, happy child, but now she looked furious, her arm going around Amy’s shoulder, holding her with a white-knuckled grip.

“Ye are the one who wanted to go to the castle,” McCarthy protested, his eyes wide with shock. “I thought ye wanted them back!”

He stepped down from the hearth, his hands still raised as though to defend himself from his daughter’s wrath, and Callum moved before he had thought through exactly what he would do.

He opened the door wide, stepping into the room as they all whirled around to stare at him.

“I would save yer breath, McCarthy. She only cares about herself.”