Page 17 of Wedded to the Heartless Highlander (Taming the Kilmartins #2)

17

T he morning dawned crisp and bright, sunlight spilling over the rolling hills of the MacKinnon lands.

Erica had barely slept, her thoughts drifting back to Hunter. He’d left the previous day with Calvin and a group of men to investigate the strange disturbances at the southern border. She told herself he would be fine—he was nothing if not capable—but the nagging worry refused to leave her because he had yet to return.

Pushing her unease aside, she dressed quickly and headed to the dining hall, determined to make the most of the day.

Lily was already seated at the long table, nibbling on a piece of bread while swinging her legs under her chair. Erica’s heart swelled at the sight of her niece’s small frame and wary expression.

“Good mornin’, Lily,” she greeted warmly, taking the seat beside her.

Lily looked up, her gray eyes brightening slightly. “Good mornin’, Aunt Erica.”

“Did ye sleep well?”

Lily shrugged, her movements careful, as if she still wasn’t sure how to let her guard down. “It was all right.”

Erica poured herself some tea, the rich aroma filling the air. “What do ye say we do somethin’ fun today? Just the two of us.”

Lily tilted her head to the side, curiosity flickering in her gaze. “Like what?”

“How about a ride?” Erica suggested. “We can explore the land, and ye can show me all the places ye like best.”

Lily hesitated, her fingers toying with the edge of her plate. But then she nodded, a small smile breaking through her reserve. “I’d like that.”

“Good! I’ll go up and change into me ridin’ outfit—you should do the same. We can meet back here shortly.”

“All right!” Lily bounced out of the hall and back up to her room.

As Erica pushed her bedroom door open and crossed toward the riding boots she had tucked in a corner, a flash of white caught her eyes.

“Post?” she murmured to herself as she walked tentatively toward her writing desk.

Quickly recognizing the bright red McFair seal, she hurried toward the desk and snatched up the letter.

“Sister…”

She started to read Thomas’s letter aloud, but her eyes moved faster than her lips. Scanning the pages, she absorbed each word.

I hope this letter finds you well, though it has only been a few days since you left us. I know how much you struggled with the entire affair, and I cannot imagine how you have been adjusting.

I wanted you to know that we all miss you terribly — Mother, Father, Reid, Olivia, and even Eileen, if you can believe that. It’s not the same without you here.

Erica lowered the letter slightly, hardly able to contain the ache in her heart. “Eileen, too?”

Her youngest sister was hardly the one to exhibit any change in temperament. She was just too young to understand. Even when their eldest sibling, Tillie, got married, Eileen hardly understood the change—she was far more interested in the MacLuther chef’s pastries than the well-being of their sister.

Father has good and bad days. As I write this letter, he’s sitting by the fire in the Great Hall after a long stroll in the gardens this morning with Mother. The illness has taken a toll on him, and although he insists that he is fine, we are trying a new tonic the healer had prescribed. It’s too soon to tell if it will help, but we are hopeful.

I confess I wish to hear your thoughts about this new life of yours. Though, if your heart feels heavy, please know that mine is with you. You have always been stronger than you think, and if anyone can get through this, it’s you. Still, if you ever need an escape, or even a short respite, remember that McFair Keep is and always will be your home. You’ll always have a place here, no matter what.

Oh, and Reid insists that I tell you this strange bit of news before I close this letter. A few days ago, Father sent out a patrol to look into reports about an unfamiliar rider near our borders. The stallion bore no recognizable markings, and the rider didn’t speak when hailed — they just vanished. It’s been on all of our minds, and Father has tightened our security.

Be cautious, Erica. These are uncertain times, and the world is not always as it seems. Look after yourself, and should you ever need refuge, McFair Keep will always be open to you.

“Yours, Thomas,” Erica whispered, a tear slowly rolling down her cheek as she folded the letter with trembling hands and placed it in her jewelry box, next to the notes from Hunter.

Her brother’s words sat heavily in her chest, like a weight she couldn’t shift. She could still hear his steady, calming voice in her head, but instead of soothing her, it only made her ache for home.

The mention of her father’s health, fragile as it had been when she left, gnawed at her.

Does he truly have ‘good days,’ or was Thomas softenin’ the truth to ease me mind?

Erica pressed her palm against her sternum, willing her breaths to slow down.

And then there is the strange rider …

“Just a traveler, surely,” she said to the empty room.

A part of her dismissed it as overthinking. After all, the McFair lands bordered others, and wanderers were not uncommon. But another, much bigger part of her warned of danger, of schemes, of the precariousness of her father’s position without anyone there to offer support.

Nae that I’ll be able to help with that, but still … Maybe I can speak with Hunter, and we can go visit, bring some men along, and help?

Her gaze drifted to the window, where the morning sunlight spilled golden across the estate, deceptively peaceful. Lily would be waiting.

Erica let out a long, drawn-out sigh. “When Hunter comes back, I’ll bring it up to him,” she muttered to herself.

“Bring what up? Who are ye talkin’ to, Aunt Erica?” a small voice called from the hallway.

Erica quietly shut the lid of the box and turned around slowly. She plastered on her best smile as her eyes locked onto her niece’s. “Och, adult things,” she said simply and winked. “Ready?”

“Aye!” Lily squealed.

The two of them raced each other down to the stables. Their horses had already been saddled and were lazily waiting for them. Erica had chosen a gentle white mare, while Lily mounted a smaller, more sprightly chestnut-brown pony.

The air was cool but promised warmth as the sun rose higher in the sky.

As they rode out, Erica took a deep breath, the scent of fresh grass and wildflowers calming her nerves.

“Ye lead the way,” she said, smiling at Lily.

Lily nodded and urged her pony forward, guiding them down a winding path that cut through the hills. They rode in companionable silence for a time, the only sounds the rhythmic clip-clop of horses’ hooves and the rustling of the grass.

As they crested a hill, Lily glanced back at Erica. “I used to ride here with me faither,” she admitted, her voice soft but steady.

Erica’s chest tightened. “Did ye? What was it like?”

Lily’s eyes grew distant, her small hands gripping the reins. “It was fun. He used to tell me stories while we rode, about knights and dragons and brave warriors.” A faint smile touched her lips. “Sometimes he’d pretend to be a dragon, chasin’ me.”

Erica laughed gently. “That sounds like a wonderful memory. Yer faither must have been very brave.”

Lily nodded, her expression tinged with both pride and sadness. “He was. He used to say that nay dragon or monster could ever scare him.”

Erica’s heart ached for the girl. She wanted to say something comforting, but she knew words could only do so much. Instead, she reached over and gave Lily’s hand a gentle squeeze. “Ye’re very brave too, ye ken.”

Lily glanced at her, surprise flickering in her gaze. But then she gave her a genuine smile that lit up her face. “Do ye think so? Brave, like Uncle Hunter?”

“Aye, just like him, lass,” Erica said firmly.

They rode on, the conversation shifting to lighter topics as Lily pointed out her favorite spots—a cluster of trees she called the ‘fairy woods,’ a stream that glittered in the sunlight, and a rocky outcrop with a breathtaking view of the valley below.

Erica found herself relaxing, her earlier worries fading as she watched the girl’s excitement grow.

She couldn’t help but admire how confident Lily seemed on a horse. The girl’s cheeks were flushed with joy, her laughter carrying on the breeze.

Erica felt a surge of pride, though she wouldn’t take credit for the transformation entirely. Hunter’s presence, gruff as it often was, had done much to reassure Lily.

However, Erica couldn’t fully stop thinking about Thomas’s letter. As they approached a bend in the trail that offered a view of the estate’s borders, her eyes lingered on the woods in the distance. The faint shadow of unease lingered at the back of her mind.

What if something did happen here? What if someone was watching them?

“Aunt Erica?” Lily’s voice snapped her out of her reverie.

“Sorry,” Erica said, forcing a smile. “What were ye sayin’?”

“I only asked if ye think Uncle Hunter would ever ride with us,” Lily repeated, her tone hopeful.

Erica hesitated, choosing her words carefully. “I reckon he would if we ask him the right way. Maybe ye can convince him.”

“I’ll ask him tonight!”

The girl’s enthusiasm was contagious, and Erica found herself smiling genuinely this time. The mention of Hunter stirred more conflicting emotions within her. His absence this morning had given her space to breathe, but her worry and yearning for him were maddening.

How can he make me feel so infuriated one moment and utterly undone the next?

The two of them stopped near a grove of trees to rest, letting the horses graze while they sat on the grass. Lily prattled on about the flower she wanted to pick, and Erica helped her identify the blooms dotting the landscape.

As the sunlight warmed her skin and the birds chirped overhead, Erica’s mind wandered once again to the strange rider Thomas had mentioned in his letter.

What if there were others? The rider, she knew, could have been a scout, but if an attack were imminent, there would have been more of them.

What if danger also loomed over her new home?

“Aunt Erica?” Lily called in an almost whining tone.

Erica blinked, realizing the young girl had been staring at her with a curious expression.

“You’re quiet,” Lily observed.

Erica chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Just thinkin’, darlin’. It’s nothin’.”

But it wasn’t nothing, not really. As they mounted their horses to return to the castle, Erica couldn’t shake the growing feeling that something was coming and that Hunter knew it. Something she couldn’t quite place. But it pressed down on her chest like a storm waiting to break.

She resolved to speak to Hunter about it when he returned—whether he listened to her or not was another matter entirely. But for now, she’d keep her worries to herself and revel in Lily’s joy.

The day had turned into late afternoon when they neared the castle. A figure appeared on the path ahead, and Erica’s smile faded. She instinctively urged her mare between the stranger and Lily.

Was he a rider? A scout?

As if sensing Erica’s concern, Lily whispered, “That’s Struan Wilson, from Uncle Hunter’s council,” before the stranger approached them.

He was a tall man with sharp features and an air of smug self-importance that immediately set Erica on edge.

“Lady MacKinnon,” he greeted with an exaggerated bow as soon as he pulled his horse to a halt. His gaze flicked to Lily. “And young Miss Lily.”

“Mr. Wilson,” Erica returned coolly, pulling on the reins of her mare. “What brings ye out here?”

“Och, just doin’ me duty and inspectin’ the lands,” Struan replied, his voice oily. “Makin’ sure that everythin’ is as it should be.” His gaze lingered on her, a smile curving his lips. “Ye are quite a natural with the girl, Me Lady. So motherly. It suits ye.”

Erica stiffened, tightening her grip on the reins. “That’s a kind sentiment, but I believe yer attention would be better focused on yer duties.”

Struan chuckled, unperturbed by her sharp tone. “Of course, of course. But one cannae help but notice such things. And I must say, motherhood will suit ye even more once it’s yer own child ye are tendin’ to.”

The comment unsettled Erica. She opened her mouth to retort, but the man wasn’t finished.

He gestured toward the delicate necklace she wore. “That’s a lovely piece. A touch of elegance amidst all the practicality of castle life. I do wonder, will ye still wear such things when ye’re with child, or will ye favor more modest jewelry?”

“Enough,” Erica snapped, her voice cold. “Yer remarks are inappropriate, Mr. Wilson.”

Struan raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. “I meant nay offense, Me Lady. Merely an observation.”

Lily shifted in her saddle, her face pale. “Aunt Erica,” she said suddenly, her voice weak. “I dinnae feel well.”

Erica’s focus immediately shifted to the girl. “Are ye all right, lass? What’s wrong?”

Lily leaned forward, clutching her stomach. “I think I’m goin’ to be sick.”

Erica shot Struan a glare before turning her mare around, though the grimace on his face was not lost on her. It gave her a strange comfort, knowing she could discomfit him.

“We’ll continue this conversation another time, Mr. Wilson,” she said curtly. “Lily needs to rest.”

Without waiting for a reply, she urged her mare forward, leading Lily back toward the castle. Struan’s slippery voice called after her, but she didn’t look back.

By the time they reached the stables, Lily seemed to have recovered, though her expression was still troubled. Erica helped her down from the pony and began to untack the horses.

“Are ye feelin’ better?” she asked gently.

Lily nodded, avoiding her gaze. “I’m sorry. I wasnae really sick. I just… I dinnae like that man.”

Erica’s hands stilled on her mare’s saddle. “Ye dinnae have to apologize, Lily. I dinnae like him either.”

Lily looked up at her, her gray eyes filled with determination. “He shouldnae talk to ye like that.”

Erica’s heart swelled with affection for the girl. “Ye’re right. And I willnae let him get away with it.” She reached out and brushed a strand of hair from Lily’s face. “Thank ye for speakin’ up. That was very brave of ye.”

Lily’s lips curled into a small smile. “I just didnae want him to upset ye anymore.”

Erica hugged her gently. “Ye’re a good girl, Lily.”

“Did ye hear what he said when we rode off?” Lily asked.

Erica had all but forgotten that part.

“Until next time, Me Lady , ” she recalled him saying, and her guess was confirmed when Lily repeated those exact same words.

“Dinnae worry, lass. Yer uncle will be hearin’ all about it.”

Satisfied, Lily smiled widely and turned to unbridle her pony. Erica did the same with her mare.

As they finished untacking the horses, Erica’s thoughts drifted back to Hunter.

His stallion isnae back yet, nor is Calvin’s…

She turned toward the castle, hoping to glimpse some sign of him, but the windows of his chambers and study were dark. The worry she’d managed to push aside earlier crept back in.

“Where are ye, Hunter?” she muttered under her breath, her gaze lingering on the horizon before she ducked back into the safety of the castle.

The castle halls were quieter than usual as she made her way toward the kitchens. The soft clicking of her boots against the stone floors echoed faintly, a reminder of how hollow the space felt without Hunter’s presence. The scent of baking bread filled the air, but it did little to distract her from the gnawing worry in her chest.

Hunter had been gone since yesterday afternoon; she had been so sure that he would return by tonight. However, as the sky darkened, it became harder to ignore the questions niggling at her.

What if somethin’ happened to him? What if he doesnae come back tonight?

As she rounded the corner, a flurry of movement caught her eye.

Kara emerged from a side corridor, carrying a stack of folded linens. Her usually composed demeanor was gone. Her auburn hair had escaped her neat braid, her cheeks were flushed, and her steps lacked their usual grace.

“Kara!” Erica stepped forward instinctively, putting a hand on top of the linens before they toppled over. “Are ye all right?”

Kara barely glanced at her. “Fine,” she said shortly, adjusting her grip on the bundle.

“Ye dinnae look fine,” Erica insisted gently, trying to catch her eyes. “What’s goin’ on?”

“One of the maids is sick, and someone has to pick up the slack,” Kara replied tersely. She shifted the pile in her arms and looked over Erica’s shoulder, as though scanning for an escape route.

“I didnae realize,” Erica said, frowning. “Ye have taken on all of her duties?”

Kara nodded stiffly. “It needed to be done. Better to offer than to be told.”

“That’s nae fair to ye, though. Does this have anythin’ to do with how cross ye were the other day? I’m sorry I didnae follow up with ye then,” Erica murmured. “If ye had told me, I could’ve arranged for more help.”

Kara’s lips pressed together into a thin line, and for a moment, it looked like she might argue. Instead, she muttered, “It’s nothin’ I cannae handle, Me Lady.”

Erica blinked at the uncharacteristic sharpness of her voice. “Are ye sure? Ye seem?—”

“I said I can handle it, Me Lady. Nothin’ to trouble ye with,” Kara snapped, her voice rising just enough to echo in the corridor.

The words hit Erica like a slap to the face, and she stepped back, startled. Kara immediately dropped her gaze, her jaw tightening as though she was biting back an apology.

“I’m sorry,” Erica offered softly, even though she wasn’t entirely sure why. “I didnae mean to upset ye.”

Kara’s expression remained tense as she readjusted the linens in her arms again. “Ye didnae,” she said shortly. “If ye will excuse me, Me Lady, I have work to finish.”

Without waiting for a response, Kara brushed past her and disappeared down the hall.

Erica stood frozen for a moment, her stomach twisting. She replayed the exchange in her mind, trying to make sense of what had just happened. Kara had always been kind and composed—this outburst was so unlike her.

Maybe she’s just overwhelmed . Everyone has a breakin’ point.

Still, the encounter left a sour taste in her mouth. She sighed and turned toward the stairs, deciding that some solitude might ease her nerves.

She found herself stirring awake in one of the chairs by the hearth. It had been a dreamless rest. Her bed had been turned down, the fireplace stocked and the fire kindled, and a tea tray lay on the side table—all signs that Kara had been in her chambers.

Erica felt like a terrible burden for her confidante, and she hoped that Hunter would return soon so she could share the odd interaction with him to get his insight.

The hours ticked by, and dinner was a quiet affair. The long dining table felt emptier without Hunter and Lily’s presence, the absence of his steady, brooding energy almost palpable. After pushing her food around her plate for far too long, Erica finally decided to retreat to her husband’s study, hoping the familiar space would bring her some comfort.

When she arrived, she found Lily already there, curled up in one of the sofas by the fire, her dinner tray nearly untouched on the side table. The little girl was staring at the flames, her hands clasped together in her lap.

There she is… I’m glad I came up here. I wonder how often she’s eaten up here alone.

“Mind if I join ye, lass?” Erica asked softly.

Lily looked up and nodded, her expression a little brighter. Erica set down the tray of food she’d brought and handed her a plate.

“Let’s eat here tonight,” she suggested as she sat down next to her. “Just the two of us.”

Lily hesitated for a moment before taking a small bite of bread.

Erica watched her carefully, noting the way her gaze kept darting toward the door. “Are ye worried about him too?” she asked gently.

Lily nodded, her blue eyes wide. “Uncle Hunter always comes back, does he nae?”

“Of course he does,” Erica said with a confidence she didn’t entirely feel. “He’s probably just being thorough. Ye ken how he is—he willnae stop until he’s sure that everyone is safe. That we are safe. Also, Calvin is with him.”

Lily seemed to take some comfort in that, her shoulders relaxing a little as she ate.

“How often have ye eaten in here by yerself?” Erica asked.

“I’ve eaten in here many times,” the young girl said between large bites.

“Have ye eaten in here since I moved here?”

“Only once,” Lily admitted quickly, her eyes darting between her food and Erica. “Why?”

“I’m only curious. Do ye like it in here?”

“It’s cozy, and it gets so warm with the fire. I like to sit on this sofa, and sometimes I fall asleep.”

“Ye do? How often have ye fallen asleep in here?”

Lily shrugged.

Too many times to count.

Erica made a mental note to bring it up to Hunter the next time he claimed he didn’t know why his niece was so standoffish toward him.

“This sofa is comfortable. I can see why ye have fallen asleep here.” Erica patted the soft pelt under them and smiled before tucking into her food.

After they finished their meal, Lily curled up on the sofa with a blanket, her small hand clutching Erica’s sleeve. Erica smiled softly and stroked her hair. The crackling of the fire filled the comfortable silence that fell over them.

“Ye can sleep if ye want,” Erica said softly once she realized that Lily had been struggling to stay awake. “I’ll stay right here with ye.”

Her reassurance was like another blanket that was draped over the little girl.

Lily murmured something incoherent and snuggled closer, her breathing evening out as sleep claimed her.

Erica leaned back, the warmth of the fire and the steady rhythm of Lily’s breaths lulling her into slumber.

She wasn’t sure how much time had passed when she felt herself being lifted. The sensation was gentle but firm, and the faint scent of pine and leather filled her senses.

“Hunter?” she murmured, her voice barely audible.

“Shh,” came his deep, familiar voice. “Go back to sleep.”

Her eyes fluttered open just enough to catch a glimpse of his face. Shadows danced across his strong features, but his expression was unmistakably tender. She tightened her grip on Lily’s small fingers, reluctant to let her go.

“It’s all right,” Hunter said softly. “Calvin’s takin’ her to bed.”

Through her sleepy haze, Erica saw Calvin moving past them, Lily cradled in his strong arms. With a soft sigh, she loosened her grip, though a small whimper escaped the girl’s lips.

Hunter carried her with the same steady strength she had come to rely on, his arms holding her as though she weighed nothing. She wanted to ask him about the patrol, about what had kept him out so late, but her body refused to cooperate.

When they reached her chambers, he laid her down on the bed with an almost reverent precision. Erica stirred slightly, her hand brushing his arm as her eyes opened a crack.

“Stay,” she whispered, her voice thick with sleep.

Hunter hesitated, and for a moment, she thought he might agree. Then, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead.

“Sleep well, Erica,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing.

As he straightened and turned to leave, Erica felt a sleepy smile curve her lips. The faint sound of his chuckle warmed her heart as she drifted back into the embrace of sleep, the lingering feel of his kiss a balm to her restless mind.