Page 14 of The Highlander’s Hellion Wife (Legacy of Highland Lairds #1)

14

A lison sat with her back against the wall, the chill from its stones seeping through her dressing gown. She listened intently to the sound of the Laird sighing as he left her daughter’s rooms.

I need to be as quiet as a mouse; I dinnae want him to find me watchin’ him.

His footsteps echoed down the hall, growing louder. She held her breath, not daring to breathe. She knew that the quickest way to his chambers would have him rounding a corner well before he reached her, so she should have nothing to worry about.

But what if he doesnae take the shortest route? What if he wants to explore the castle some more?

A flicker of worry skittered across her skin. She pressed even harder against the wall, as if she could become one with it by sheer will alone.

Alison did not know what she would do if her husband discovered her there. Maybe she could tell him that she had simply come to wish Rosie goodnight? That was at least partly true.

After their tryst in the study, Alison had made quick work of pulling herself together. Splashing cool water on her face helped to snap her out of the fog that their activities had placed her in.

She then quickly dressed in her night things. She knew for certain that her daughter would have chattered away with the staff and would have pressured Effie to take her out on their night walk.

Alison rushed out of her room and took their usual route. Running into Effie, the maid told her what had transpired and that she had left Rosie in the care of the Laird. Fueled by curiosity, and worried that Rosie would be terrified of her father despite her bravery, she rushed down the hall.

Now, there she was, eagerly waiting for her husband to exit their daughter’s rooms so that she could sneak in. She thought of the maid who helped Rosie dress for bed, the same one who helped her every night.

Caoimhe didnae seem too frazzled when she left, so it couldnae have been bad.

Alison’s mind raced, trying to figure out what she would say to her husband when he inevitably caught her, but as his footsteps gradually became quieter, she let out a deep, relieved sigh.

Bracing herself, she leaned forward a bit, risking a glance around the corner where she was hiding. The Laird was descending one of the large staircases that connected to the front of the castle.

He was taking the shorter route.

Alison listened intently, waiting for the sound of his heavy footsteps to fade entirely. Once she was convinced the coast was clear, she stepped out of her hiding spot and crept toward her daughter’s door.

Even though Alison felt confident that Duncan was far enough away that he could not hear her, she still did not want to risk being discovered.

Opening the door to Rosie’s chamber gently, she stepped inside. The receiving room, the one in which she read to Rosie every night, was almost entirely silent. The only sound was the crackling of the fire in the hearth.

She glanced across the space. On the other side of the room was the door that led to Rosie’s bedroom. It was ajar, and from where she stood, Alison could see the flickering light of a lantern.

She approached the room on silent feet. If Rosie was already asleep, Alison did not want to wake her. Once she reached the door, she placed her palms on it.

It creaked slightly, and Alison winced at the offending noise. Peering around it, she immediately spotted Rosie’s small body in the center of the massive bed.

The little girl was lying on her side, her shoulder rising and falling with steady, even breaths. Even from a distance, Alison could see the yellow hair of her doll cradled gently against her chest.

“Did ye come to say goodnight?” Rosie asked unexpectedly.

The sudden sound made Alison jump. She pressed a hand to her chest, feeling her heart fluttering wildly beneath her palm.

“I thought ye were already asleep,” she said quickly, no longer worried about keeping silent as she approached her daughter’s bed.

Rosie finally opened her eyes, rolling over to look at her mother.

She shook her head. “Faither only just left,” she explained. “Ye must have missed him.”

Alison nodded, not bothering to let her know that she had not, in fact, missed her father, but had purposefully avoided him.

“Aye,” she said, her voice a little breathy. “I must have. Did he tuck ye in, then? Feelin’ snug?”

Once again, Rosie nodded. “He wasnae very good at it, though.”

Alison snorted a laugh. “I cannae imagine he would be. All that time in the war doesnae allow for practicin’ bed tuckin’.”

Her daughter seemed to consider that, saying nothing as she pondered whatever thoughts were rushing through her young mind.

Alison used that moment to smooth down the skirts of her dressing gown, holding it tight to her legs as she plopped down on the edge of Rosie’s bed.

“He got ye yer dolly, though,” she said, lowering her head to acknowledge the toy still clutched in her daughter’s hands. “That was nice of ‘im.”

“I think Caoimhe gave it to him,” Rosie explained. “He didnae seem to ken what to do. Would that be the war, too?”

Alison nodded. “Aye, I assume so. But he’s here now. So, he’ll have time to learn.”

“If he stays.”

The girl’s words were simple, but they made Alison’s heart clench painfully. She did not know what to say to her child.

She recalled the fight in the study, and how adamant Duncan had been about staying for good, but she still did not know whether she could trust him to keep his word.

“I’m tired,” Rosie said, underscoring her declaration with a loud yawn. “But I’m glad ye came to say goodnight.”

“Me too, love,” Alison said, leaning forward to place a kiss on her daughter’s forehead.

She sat there for a moment longer, watching as the child snuggled back into her pillows. Auburn lashes against her round, soft cheeks, Rosie slowly drifted off to sleep.

Once Alison was certain that her daughter had fallen asleep, she rose from the side of the bed and snuffed out the nearby lantern. The only light that now filled the bedroom came from the crackling fire in the receiving room.

As she walked out of her daughter’s chambers, still light on her feet in case her husband had turned back, she thought of all that had transpired that day.

She did not know what to make of it all. The dinner, their time in the study, overhearing him trying to bond with their daughter during their walk to her chambers… it all felt too much.

“I’ve been on me own for five years,” she said aloud, comforted by the sound of a voice in the hall, even if it was her own. “It willnae just be me who’s hurt if he leaves again, but Rosie as well.”

The thought was a sobering one, pervading her mind as she made her way back to her rooms.

Settling herself in her bed, she knew that sleep would elude her. Even though she had not been in her bed for nearly a week, she knew in her bones that it would be a long, sleepless night.

Mayhap it would be better for us if he left. Then, we might be able to get back to our normal lives.

Although Alison could not quite understand why, the thought filled her with sadness.