Page 88 of The Laird’s Lost Wife

Helena folded her arms tightly across her chest, and for a moment, she looked so much like Skye that he wanted to wince.

“I think we all ken what’s been going on in this room,” she announced tartly. “Or was about to happen.”

“Ye daenae ken what’s happening here, Mother.”

“Lady Helena, if I might just—” Daphne began, but was silenced by a stern look from the older woman.

“Daphne, lass, I’m fond of ye, but now would be a good time for ye to be very, very quiet, aye?”

She reddened, glancing away. “That’s nae fair, Helena.”

That was when Lady Pilbury shuffled into the room and used the end of her stick to push the door shut. At last, they were safe from prying eyes.

But it’s already too late. How many servants saw us? And Laird Gordon? The man’s a bloody gossip. It’s over.

In a matter of days or weeks, the news would spread all over the keep. Other clans would hear it. It was always a matter of interest when a laird was caught doing something shocking, like kissing a guest during a cèilidh. Of course, some lairds were known for their womanizing ways, keeping mistresses, and so on.

But Hunter wasn’t, and that was the point. He found himself thinking of what Magnus would say, how he’d react. Not well, but of course he’d be loyal.

And with the way things were going, Magnus would find out. There was no way the servants would keep their mouths shut. Laird Gordon certainly wouldn’t.

At least he willnae dance with her again, Hunter thought grimly.

Helena took a step toward him. “What were ye thinking, Hunter? Daphne is a respectable woman. She comes from a powerful clan. Her sister is here at the cèilidh, and she’ll nae take kindly to her sister’s honor being besmirched.”

“I have had a child out of wedlock,” Daphne spoke up quietly. “I think it’s a wee bit too late to salvage me honor.”

“Daphne, hush!” Lady Pilbury gasped. “A woman’s reputation matters. Reputation, in general, matters, and yours is a fine one. My darling girl, aren’t you thinking of how this will impact your future and Willow’s?”

That last remark hit home.

Daphne flinched, glancing away, and pressed her lips together.

Hunter bit the inside of his cheek and turned to face his mother fully. “It’s nothing,” he said harshly. “Just a kiss.”

No need to tell her the rest of it.

“It isnae just a kiss,” Helena insisted. “Hunter, lad, what do ye think the McKanes will do? Lady Ceana has been telling anybody who’ll listen how happy she is that her sister is home. She’s already nae pleased that ye didnae speak to her and took it upon yerself to bring her back.”

“She’s said nothing to me.”

“She willnae, because she is clever enough nae to make a fuss about nothing. But this? This isnae nothing.”

“I agree,” Lady Pilbury piped up, her voice sounding stronger than it had in a long time. “Lord MacCrimmon, I must insist you do something to salvage Daphne’s reputation. That is…” She reddened, perhaps a little taken aback by her own gall. “I should like to find a solution that suits everybody. I won’t let Daphne be exposed to harm of any kind. She is… She is like a daughter to me, and I won’t die and leave her alone in the world, certainly not ruined.”

There was a long moment of silence, before she cleared her throat and met Daphne’s eyes.

“You’ll receive a sum when I die, but I’m afraid it’s not much. Most of the money will go back to the family, you see. I…”

“Ye daenae have to leave me a penny,” Daphne said quietly. “In fact, I’d rather ye didnae. I daenae want anyone to ever think that’s why I was with ye, me Lady.”

A long silence fell between the four of them.

Hunter glanced at Daphne and found her staring down at her feet, her lower lip drawn between her teeth.

Lady Pilbury flushed a little, her chin wobbling as if she were on the verge of tears. She adjusted her grip on her stick and lifted her head, meeting Hunter’s gaze.

“You must make this right, my Laird,” she murmured. “I cannot compel you, of course, but that is what I would like to see happen.”