Page 26 of The Laird's Secret Bairn

It had never been love. The match had been purely political, but he had cared for her in a way. She was a good woman. Then the fire broke out, and he was forced to tell the clans that she had died to save her honor. He felt he owed her that much. After that man killed her, he decided he would never reveal the truth for Lily’s sake. She was the reason why he did anything.

She was his world. He’d never do anything to put her in danger. That much was clear.

He eventually went to bed, though sleep never came. He lay staring at the ceiling, replaying the stubborn set of Skye’s jaw when she spoke and the flash of hurt beneath her anger when he told her to go to her room as if she were a child rather than a woman with a mind of her own.

He was still awake when a soft knock sounded at his door.

“It’s me,” Kenna called from the other side. “I saw yer light still burning and thought I would check on ye. It isnae like ye to be up so late. Ye tend to sleep like the dead.”

He rolled out of bed and opened the door, inviting her in without a word.

“Ye should be asleep, Maither,” he accused, though he was close to chuckling at how alike they were.

“So should ye, and yet here we both are,” she said, settling into the chair near his hearth. “What has kept ye up?”

“Nothing.”

He did not even bother to try to hide the fact that it was a lie. No reason when his mother saw through him so easily

“Dougal, ye can tell me ye daenae wish to speak of it. I will accept that over a blatant lie.”

He chuckled weakly. “I said something to Skye tonight. She pushed, and I pushed back perhaps harder than I needed to.”

“What did she push about?” she asked, curious.

“Elsie.”

Kenna went quiet after that.

She was one of the few who knew the truth. Once, she had tried to get him to speak about what happened the day Elsie died. He had recounted the story once, omitting parts to spare her the horrid details. She was a strong woman who had been through her own fair share of trauma, but this was not a story he wanted anyone to hear.

The details he had told her were enough to make her stagger and cry. She had gone right to Lily’s room, scooping up the baby girl into her arms and cooing gently when she started to stir. Lily had hushed immediately, snuggling into her grandmother’s arms.

Dougal had stood in the doorway, watching them, his throat tight, and decided in that moment to never speak of it again to anyone. Not the blood on the floor. Not the sound Elsie made when the blade found her. Not the weight of carrying her death on his conscience alongside a newborn in his arms, both in the same breath and on the same day.

His mother had asked, once or twice in the years since, whether he wanted to talk further about it. Whether the silence he keptabout the subject was doing him more harm than the truth ever could. But he always told her the same thing—some truths were better carried alone. He did not want to put that burden on anyone else.

She had not asked for three or four years now, allowing him to keep the full truth of that day to himself. It was one Lily would never discover. His dear, sweet little one had no reason to find out. As far as he was concerned, he and his mother were her family, and that was all she needed.

“What did ye tell her?”

“Nothing. I merely told her to stop talking about things she doesnae understand and to go to her room.”

“Ah,” Kenna said, studying him. “I imagine that went over well.”

“It didnae.”

“Ye cannae snap at a lass for being curious about a wound ye’ve never let anyone properly look at, Dougal. Nae even me,” she reasoned, reaching over to pat his hand. “Perhaps it’s time ye decide how much of that truth ye’re willing to carry alone and how much ye could finally let someone else help ye hold.”

With that, she left him to his thoughts and to attempt to get some sleep that night.

He lay back down, his thoughts drifting to Elsie. The memory of her sitting in front of the hearth, having just delivered her child, would forever be seared into his mind. It was how Lily had come into this world: cruelly and violently.

But he was never like that with her. Lily was a gentle girl who deserved no such treatment. And she was his.

Always would be.

Ultimately, he hadn’t protected her out of love for her mother. He had protected her because no child deserved to inherit the consequences of two clans too proud to admit their own failures.