Chapter 8

“Remember, be gentle,” Hugo said as he and Domnhall walked through the courtyard. It was a nice morning, warm and sunny, much like the previous day, when Domnhall and Billie had gone on that ride.

It was the first time since then that Domnhall had spotted Abigail alone. He didn’t know where Billie was, but all that mattered was that she wasn’t with her sister in the gardens. Upon spotting Abigail, Domnhall had rushed to get Hugo, and the two of them had pretended to wander aimlessly around the courtyard, as if enjoying the weather before their duties resumed for the day. It didn’t take them long to make their way towards the gardens, where servants were hard at work tending to the flowers and the bushes, their steps taking them to the bench where Abigail sat, reading a book in the quiet.

When she saw them, she placed the book down and stood, giving them a small bow and a smile that wasn’t quite convincing. That was fine with Domnhall; even if she didn’t like him, he could sway her. And if all else failed, she seemed to like Hugo just fine. He could be the one get the information Domnhall needed.

“Good mornin’, me laird, Mr. Buchanan,” Abigail said. “How are ye today?”

“Please… address us by our first names,” Domnhall assured her. “We will be family soon, after all, an’ Hugo is like a braither tae me.”

“If ye so wish,” said Abigail politely. “But only if ye dae the same with me.”

“Have ye found everythin’ tae yer likin’ so far?” Domnhall asked, after nodding, although he would have already heard of it if Abigail had had any complaints. Though he wanted to torture Billie a little, he still wanted to keep his reputation as a generous host, and he had made sure to tell his servants to prepare everything to perfection.

“Och, aye,” Abigail said. “Billie an’ I are enjoyin’ our time here very much.”

Abigail knew how to navigate social interactions in a way her sister didn’t, it seemed to Domnhall. She had none of Billie’s scathing attitude, none of her boldness, but rather the sort of politeness that many noble-born men and women could use as a weapon when needed.

Domnhall himself preferred the directness of Billie’s character. At least with her, he knew where he stood.

“That is good tae hear,” Domnhall said. “I did wish tae ask ye if there was anythin’ ye could tell me tae help me with yer sister. I’m afraid she is still rather… hostile towards me, an’ I would like tae ken what I can dae tae win back her favor.”

He spoke those words so earnestly that Abigail had no choice but to believe him. Her entire face lit up, clearly pleased that Domnhall was making an effort with her sister, and she gestured at him and Hugo to join her on the bench as she took back her seat.

“What dae ye wish tae ken?” she asked.

“Well, I suppose you could tell us what she likes,” Hugo said, as he sat next to Domnhall and leaned forward so he could meet Abigail’s eye. “Flowers, jewels, sweets?”

Abigail laughed, shaking her head. “Me sister is nae that easy tae please. Though she does enjoy books an’ readin’. Ye ken she wishes tae be a healer, so she always has a book an’ some herbs in her hands.”

“Ach, o’ course,” Domnhall said. “I was aware o’ that. Perhaps I could show her the library. We should have some books on healin’ in the shelves.”

“I think she would enjoy that,” Abigail said. “She also enjoys horse ridin’, but ye ken that, too.”

Though there was no mocking tone that Domnhall could discern in her voice, he was certain Abigail was toying with him in the same way he had tried to toy with her sister. He clenched his jaw as he avoided Hugo’s gaze and forced himself to smile, though he was certain it looked entirely insincere.

“I found out yesterday,” Domnhall confirmed. “Yer sister seems to be very skilled at many things.”

“She is,” Abigail said. “She can dae almost everythin’ well from the first try! Except fer cookin’. Nae that she’ll need tae as the lady of a clan.”

Domnhall and Hugo exchanged a quick glance at that, enjoying their triumph. Abigail didn’t seem to know what kind of gem she had handed them, oblivious to Domnhall’s plans.

He knew exactly what he would plan for the following day.

“I’ll make sure tae keep that in mind,” Domnhall assured her as he stood, Hugo following close behind. “Thank ye, Abigail. I’ll think o’ somethin’ tae gift her an’ I’ll show her the library. Enjoy yer day.”

He and Hugo gave her a bow before leaving, heading back to the castle. It was only when he was certain Abigail couldn’t hear them that Domnhall spoke once more, lips stretching into a smile. “Well, I suppose I ken what tae dae now.”

“Dae ye ken how tae cook?” Hugo asked, as if he expected the answer to be a negative.

Of course, Domnhall had no idea how to cook a single thing. “Nay,” he admitted. “But I willnae have tae cook. She’ll be the one doin’ all the cookin’.”

As they got to the castle doors, Domnhall came to a sudden halt. There, by the great hall, stood Billie, talking quietly to Cameron, one of the guards he had assigned to keep her safe. The two of them looked close, too close for Domnhall’s liking.

Bile rose to the back of his throat, and he was about to march up to them when another guard rushed towards him and Hugo, panting as he spoke.

“There has been a sightin’ o’ some men in our lands, me laird,” he said. “They dinnae have anythin’ tae signify their clan an’ they havenae done anythin’ suspicious yet, but there is a fear among yer council that they may be Ferguson’s men.”

With a sigh, Domnhall ran a hand through his hair. He already had so much to deal with, and now this, too.

“Me council?” he asked.

“Already waitin’ fer ye in yer study.”

Domnhall nodded, his ears buzzing with the blood that had rushed to his head. “One moment,” he told the man and Hugo, leaving them by the doors to join Billie and her guard as they spoke.

Billie didn’t seem to welcome Domnhall’s presence. Cameron pulled back from her the moment he met Domnhall’s gaze, standing straighter with his hands firmly planted by his sides, expecting orders.

“Find someone else tae guard Miss Robertson. Ye’re dismissed,” he ordered dryly.

The surprise was clear on the guard’s face, but he didn’t dare protest. He only bowed and left, and once he was out of sight, Domnhall turned to look at Billie once more.

He was met with the coldest gaze he had ever encountered in his life. Billie had her arms crossed over her chest defensively, her eyebrows raised expectantly.

“Why did ye dae that?” she asked. “I like him. He is kind.”

Domnhall glanced over his shoulder at Hugo and the other guard, before leaning closer to whisper in Billie’s ear. “I willnae have ye ridicule me like this. If ye truly wish tae be me wife, ye will keep yer talons away from me men. Dae ye understand? I willnae be made a fool because o’ ye.”

His voice shook as he spoke and it took all his effort to stop himself from yelling. If they were alone, he would have surely raised his voice, but he could hardly do that with other people around. A part of Domnhall wanted to drag Billie somewhere else and tell her precisely what he thought about her flirting with his guards, but he had already created a panic in the castle when he had refused to marry her in front of everyone and he wasn’t about to make the same mistake again.

Judging by the way she glared at him, Billie was just as furious as he was, but Domnhall didn’t care. If she thought she could do as she pleased in his castle, she was mistaken.

“What dae ye mean?” Billie asked, though she seemed to know precisely what Domhall meant. Still, he was more than happy to explain it to her, his venom dripping from his words.

“I mean ye willnae sleep with me guards in me own castle,” he hissed. Though he was certain no one could hear them, people could still see them, and it was certainly clear to them that they were arguing. Still, Domnhall didn’t stop. “If ye wish tae have a place here, ye will stop this.”

Billie scoffed, rolling her eyes at him. “What does it matter tae ye? Ye claim tae want naething tae dae with me. I had tae force ye intae this marriage an’ ye care about what I dae? Ye have nae real claim over me.”

Domnhall had to bite his tongue for a few moments, taking a deep breath to control himself. He wasn’t going to lose his composure in front of his people. It would be terrible for morale.

“I dinnae care what ye dae,” he said. “All I care about is that nae one kens how eager ye are tae fall in a man’s bed. Like I said, I willnae allow ye tae ridicule me like this.”

“Ye seem perfectly fine with ridiculin’ yerself right the now,” Billie said, her tone filled with vitriol. Domnhall had half a mind to yell at her right there, consequences be damned, but she beat him to it, raising her voice to a dangerous level. “Ye have nae idea what ye’re sayin’ so I suggest ye stop afore ye say somethin’ ye will truly regret.”

“Keep yer voice down,” Domnhall demanded, glancing over his shoulder in a way that was probably more incriminating than Billie’s sudden volume. “I dinnae care what ye think. Just dae as I tell ye.”

“Shame,” Billie said, her lips stretching into a cruel smile. “He’s a very handsome young lad.”

Domnhall drew in a deep, sharp breath, but before he could say anything else, Hugo materialized by his side, glancing at him awkwardly.

“We must go, Domnhall,” he said. “The council is waitin’.”

For a few moments, Domnhall did nothing but breathe and glare at Billie, but then he decided it wasn’t worth it. She was either going to do as she was told or he would have to force her using harsher methods. Thus, he quietly followed Hugo up the stairs to his study, never once glancing back at Billie to see her reaction.

Once there, he saw that all the men in his council had already gathered, like the guard had told him, waiting for his arrival. He weaved through the small crowd of eight men and took his seat, looking at them expectantly.

“What news did we receive?” he asked.

“There appears tae be a group o’ men in our lands, me laird,” said one of them, Boyd. He was one of the youngest in the council, only a few years older than Domnhall himself. Domnhall had given him the position when it had proven necessary to remove an older man who was still supportive of his father. “We havenae identified them yet, an’ though there has been nae trouble so far, we are concerned they may be Ferguson’s men.”

“Are they suspicious?” Domnhall asked. “Are ye certain there is cause fer concern?”

“We cannae be certain, o’ course,” said Boyd. “But we suggest caution.”

Domnhall sighed, leaning back in his seat as he considered the situation. Men were precious resources and sending even a few after the group would cost the clan, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

“Very well,” he said. “Send a few men after them. They are tae observe only an’ report back by the end o’ the week.”

“Aye,” said Boyd, taking a small bow as he stepped back.

Domnhall couldn’t help but wonder if his council was testing him. He supposed it wouldn’t be surprising. Many of these men had served under his father and they had watched him progressively becoming worse at his duties running the clan. Maybe they were eager to see how he would handle a potential threat. It was well within their power to send a few men after the supposed intruders without consulting him, after all.

He couldn’t be concerned with his council’s opinion of him in that moment, though, not when he had so many other things to consider. As long as they viewed him relatively favorably, he was doing better than his father had ever done.

The sudden appearance of those men, however, concerned him more than he wanted to reveal. Who could they be? Perhaps they were no threat at all, but if there was even a small chance that they were Ferguson’s men, then he had to know. He had to formulate a plan.

Not for the first time, he thought the matter of his wedding had popped up at the most inopportune time.