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“I am.” Matthew let out a shuddering breath. He had not realized until talking to Jonet just how bothered he was by the event.

He looked up to the Laird, who did not seem aware they were speaking. “I dinnae think I would see a day when Laird MacLagain wasnae shoutin’ the entire Castle down.”

Jonet looked over her shoulder at her father and grimaced. “He is tryin’ to understand all that’s happenin’ quickly. That’s how he gets when he’s concentratin’. It’s also how he gets when he’s angry.”

“That’s how he is when he’s angry?”

Jonet nodded. A quick smile appeared on her face. “So, daenae be bothered too much if he shouts. When he’s quiet like that, that’s when ye should be worried.”

Matthew let his gaze wander back to the pacing Laird, welcoming the distraction. At that moment, the door opened, and the physician walked in. The Laird stopped pacing, and Matthew and Jonet stood to their feet.

“He will be fine,” the physician assured. He was a rather old man, coming from a long line of Gaelic physicians who had served the Laird for many years. He rested his weight on the back of an armchair. “Thankfully, there arenae any broken bones. He’s a strong one, it seems, but he’ll need to stay in bed for some time. With the help of some of the guards, ye can have him moved—”

“Nay,” said the Laird. “He will remain here under yer care. He has saved the life of me daughter’s betrothed. He deserves more respect than that.”

“As ye wish, Me Laird.” The physician nodded, looking a bit weary.

Before he could turn to leave, Jonet asked, “Is he awake? Can he see us?”

“He isnae awake right now, but there is a chance he could open his eyes at any time. If ye wish to go see him, ye can.”

With that said, the weary old man left the room. Jonet hurried after him, not wasting a second. Matthew trailed behind her all the way to the room where they had taken Georgie.

The boy was swallowed within the large bed. His skin was pallid, with a faint sheen of sweat coating his brow. Jonet gently wiped it away as she sat next to him, her eyes sad.

Matthew said nothing. He stood by her side with a hand on her shoulder, looking down on the boy who had saved his life. It brought into perspective that they were not alone. That they had others fighting by their sides, others that would be drawn into the danger that was closing in on them. The longer they took to find that person, the more likely someone else could get hurt.

Matthew would not allow that to happen to his new family.

He tightened his grip on Jonet’s shoulder, drawing her attention. His eyes were on Georgie’s serene face, so peaceful in sleep. Unaware of the pain he would experience when he awoke.

“We must find him,” Matthew murmured. For all the convinction in his voice, he might as well have shouted the words. “We cannae allow this to happen again.”

“I agree.” Jonet nodded slowly, turning her attention back to Georgie. “Before else someone else will get hurt. Or worse.”

Chapter 24

When Freya slipped into the bedroom, it was dark, save for a single spot of starlight. The room seemed to have been bathed in a deep blackness that could not be returned to light. Briefly, Freya’s heart trembled at the sight, wondering if it was the manifestation of those evil thoughts that had brewed in this very room.

She cast the feeling aside instantly, closing the door behind her. She had let her hair loose, but now she felt odd. All day, she wore it how she should, acted how she should. Now, her blond hair was free from that restrictive braid, just as how she would free herself from the confines of her position.

She took a few steps further into the room, willing her eyes to adjust. Finally, she made her way to the bed and reached forward, expecting to feel someone under her fingertips. Yet her hands sank into mattress and she found the bed empty.

“Why are ye here?”

Freya jumped at the soft voice from the corner of the room, whirling to face it. It took her a few moments to see the dark shape sitting there. It did not move, but it waited for its response.

Her heart was beating rapidly. Only on rare occasions could she ever feel so flustered. “I came to speak with ye. To see ye.”

“Why?”

“What do ye mean ‘why’?” She blinked, frowning a little. “There is much we need to talk about.”

The dark figure moved a bit. Freya was rooted to the floor, watching it. “I have little to say to ye.”

She tightened her lips, clinging to the anger she had felt earlier. Hopefully, it would dispel her nervousness. “I heard what ye said about the culprit being in the Castle.”

“Ye were eavesdroppin’ on a private conversation with the Laird?” She heard humor in the voice. His voice. “That may be grounds for suspicion, ye ken?”


Tags: Lydia Kendall Historical