Page 89 of The Laird's Secret Bairn

Councilman Ewan stepped closer, beckoning them over to a corner. When he spoke, his voice pitched low so only Dougal and Skye could hear. “Ye cannae mean to welcome him under yer roof,” he hissed. “He tried to poison yer daughter, and ye’re offering him wine?”

“I mean to watch him,” Dougal said evenly, though his jaw was tight as a drawn bowstring.

“Watch him? He should be hanging from the gatehouse by now.”

Dougal did not answer right away, letting the silence stretch.

Then Dougal spoke, careful and slow, as though testing the weight of each word. “Strange thing. The healer came to me this morning. Said it wasnae poison at all. Some fever going around the area, affecting half the bairns.” He watched Ewan close. “No poison. No plot. Just bad luck and worse timing.”

Ewan’s mouth opened and then closed. “But the tremors, the color of her skin… That was surely—” He stopped himself a breath too late.

Dougal’s eyes hardened. “Aye, that’s what I thought.”

Skye’s heart started to hammer in her chest. Her mind was spinning. “Dougal?—”

He lifted his finger to his lips. “Nay, lass, just listen. Everything will be explained.” He turned his gaze back to Ewan. “Councilman, ye seem very convinced that Laird Lawson tried to poison me daughter.”

Ewan swallowed, beads of sweat forming on his brow. “Ye told me yerself that ye believed him to be the culprit!”

“And as I told ye, the healer said it was nothing more than a fever. Yet ye seem to be convinced it’s something more. Why is that?”

More sweat beaded on Ewan’s brow, and he dabbed at his face. All eyes were on him now.

Skye covered her mouth, forcing herself not to utter a word. Whatever Dougal had discovered, he was about to reveal it. Nothing was going to stop him.

Had she been wrong? Had Angus just been nothing more than a grieving father who hadn’t tried to poison his own granddaughter?

It was difficult to wrap her mind around after their encounter. She remembered the anger in his eyes when she had confronted him. But when she thought back carefully, she realized he hadnever shown any hatred towards Lily. There had been confusion and apprehension, yes, but never hatred.

He had been grappling with the fact that he had a granddaughter, whether she was a bastard or not. With the fact that he had lost his daughter because of his own actions, and if he were not careful, he would lose Lily too.

“I ken nothing!” Ewan sputtered.

Dougal tilted his head to the side. “Ye seem very nervous for a man who kens nothing. Perhaps ye should confess. I might go easy on ye.”

“I didnae do anything!” Ewan shouted, backing up until the guards had cornered him, refusing to let him escape.

Angus stepped forward. “Councilman, were ye behind me granddaughter’s poisoning? How could ye hurt a child?”

The dam finally burst.

“Fine, I’ll admit it! I threatened a kitchen maid to add the poison to Lily’s dish, but I did it for ye, me Laird! Ye shouldnae spend time raising a bastard, when ye should be marrying and producing heirs.”

Dougal drew his sword, but the man was not done. He bared his teeth at Skye.

“Andye? What are ye doing, caring for the child instead of sending it away to have yer own? Ye’re nae worthy of becoming our Lady!”

He lunged for Skye. His hand darted for the blade at his belt, but he’d barely touched the hilt before Dougal closed the distance between them. There was no roar, no warning, just a man who had done this before and felt nothing new in doing it again.

Dougal caught his wrist and twisted, the dagger clattering to the stone floor before it ever found its mark. Ewan cried, more from shock than pain, his other hand scrabbling uselessly against Dougal’s chest. For half a heartbeat their eyes met, and something like a plea flickered across the man’s face.

Dougal didn’t wait for the plea to become words. His blade moved once, low and precise, and Ewan’s breath left him in a wet rush. He sagged forward. Dougal let him fall rather than catch him, stepping back to avoid getting blood on his boots.

The hall held its breath.

Dougal didn’t look down at him. He lifted two fingers, and his guards started to haul the body away without a word, as if such things happened every night. Then he turned slowly, sweeping his gaze over every face in the hall.

“Does anyone else share his opinion?”