Chapter 18

18

T he following morning, Hunter moved quickly through the castle’s dimly lit corridors. The scent of parchment and aged leather greeted him as he entered the library, a space he rarely ventured into but had grown fond of since Lily had come under his care.

Calvin was leaning against the edge of a reading table, his arms crossed and a wry smile tugging at his lips. “Nae yer usual haunt, Me Laird. Lookin’ for a new battle strategy in here?”

Hunter shot him a look, but his lips twitched despite himself. “Nay strategy today. Just a book.”

Calvin arched an eyebrow. “A book? For yerself?”

“For Lily,” Hunter clarified, scanning the shelves with purpose.

His fingers trailed over the spines of weathered tomes until he found the one he’d been looking for. The faded title confirmed it was the right one.

He plucked the book off the shelf, its leather cover wrinkled but intact. It had once belonged to his brother, a beloved distraction during their younger years. He ran a hand over it, his chest tightening with nostalgia.

Calvin observed him silently for a moment before speaking again. “Ye are different with her, ye ken.”

Hunter glanced up, his expression guarded. “With whom?”

“I can see why ye would be confused by that. I meant yer niece,” Calvin said. “And yer wife. Though that one’s a different kind of different, is she nae?”

Hunter’s jaw tightened. “This isnae about Erica.”

“Nay, but ye should make it about her more often,” Calvin said with a grin, despite Hunter’s glare.

Hunter ignored the comment, tucking the book under his arm. “I’ll meet ye in the courtyard later. There’s work to be done.”

“Isnae there always?” Calvin muttered, shaking his head as his master left the library.

Hunter strode into the sunlit alcove where Lily usually took her breakfast. His boots clicked softly against the polished stone floor, and he carried the book with a sense of purpose. He’d spent the morning in the library determined to find something meaningful to offer his niece—a connection to her father and, by extension, a piece of her past.

When he arrived, she was already seated, her small hands clutching a cup of milk that she sipped from cautiously. She looked up at him with a wary expression. “Good mornin’, Uncle Hunter,” she greeted politely.

Hunter nodded, pulling the book from under his arm and setting it on the table between them. “Good mornin’, lass. I’ve brought somethin’ for ye.”

Her eyes flicked to the book and then back to him, uncertain. “What is it?”

“It was yer faither’s favorite,” he said, his voice softer than usual. He pushed the book closer to her. “A book of tales. He used to read from it when we were boys.”

Lily’s small hand hesitated over the worn cover, and her brow furrowed. “Faither’s?”

“Aye.” Hunter leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched her. “I thought ye would want to have it.”

Her fingers finally touched the leather binding, brushing over the cracks with a tentative reverence. She opened the book carefully, the pages yellowed but intact. Her eyes skimmed over the words, and her lips parted in a small gasp.

“Uncle Hunter,” she whispered, “did Faither really love this book?”

“He did,” Hunter assured her, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “There’s a story in there about a clever lass outwittin’ an entire kingdom. Reminds me of ye.”

Her cheeks flushed at the praise, and she let out a quiet giggle. “Ye think I can outwit a kingdom?”

“I think ye can outwit anyone if ye set yer mind to it,” he said with a touch of pride.

Their conversation was light and easy as Hunter shared stories of her father’s childhood and their bond as brothers. Lily’s laughter bubbled up often, softening her usually guarded demeanor. For a moment, Hunter felt a flicker of hope.

Perhaps I can give her somethin’ resemblin’ a family, after all.

The sound of light footsteps broke the spell, and Hunter turned to see Erica entering the room.

She looked radiant, wearing a dress that hugged her figure in ways that sent his thoughts to dangerous places. Her wavy brown hair framed her face perfectly, and her green eyes sparkled as they landed on him and Lily. But it wasn’t just her appearance that stirred him. It was the way she looked at them, as though they were something precious.

“Good mornin’,” she greeted, her voice warm as she moved toward them.

“Mornin’,” Hunter replied, his voice gruffer than he had intended.

Lily perked up. “Aunt Erica! Look what Uncle Hunter gave me! It was Faither’s favorite book!”

Erica’s gaze shifted to the book, and her smile widened. “Did he now? That’s very thoughtful of him.”

Hunter shifted uncomfortably under her praise. “Seemed like the right thing to do.”

Erica sat beside Lily, her presence immediately brightening the room. They began chatting about the stories in the book and their plans for the day.

Hunter found himself watching her longer than he should have, his thoughts drifting to the way her dress accentuated her curves, the light in her eyes as she laughed.

Lily’s sudden comment pulled him back to reality. “Och, Uncle Hunter, we saw one of yer councilmen yesterday when we were ridin’.”

Hunter raised an eyebrow. “Ye were ridin’?” His voice was sharper than he had intended.

Erica stiffened, tilting her head in a challenge. “Aye, we went ridin’. Around the lands. Is that a problem?”

His jaw tightened. “Depends. Which councilman?”

“Struan,” Lily said innocently. “He was rude to Aunt Erica. Said somethin’ strange about her necklace and bairns.”

Hunter’s expression darkened. “Rude how?”

Erica cut in before Lily could respond. “It’s nothin’ worth gettin’ angry about. He made a comment and I responded appropriately.”

“Ye shouldnae have been out there. If ye were so far into Struan’s patrol area, then ye were too far?—”

“What exactly do ye think we were doin’ out there, Hunter?” Erica cut him off, her green eyes flashing. “Plottin’ to usurp ye? Visitin’ enemy clans? I took yer niece on a ride, that’s all. We werenae far at all. Just there…”

She reached across him and pointed stubbornly out the window toward the woods, but he didn’t budge. Her scent assaulted every single one of his senses.

The tension between them crackled like a storm. Lily and Calvin busied themselves with the book, clearly trying not to get involved.

Hunter’s hand flew up instinctively and gripped her arm, pulling her close. “I didnae mean for that to come out as an accusation. Struan is?—”

“I can handle Struan. Just like I can handle ye and handle takin’ care of Lily when ye are away for days on end without notice.”

Her final comment struck him hard. “I told ye I was leavin’.”

“Och, aye, but this isnae war, Hunter. And ye arenae alone anymore. Ye have Lily to think of, and yer wife. Ye cannae just disappear for days on end without a word,” Erica insisted, but her voice cracked.

Hunter’s grip on her arm loosened as she continued, her bottom lip trembling slightly. “Ye should have sent word. We were both worried.”

“I was fine. We were on the southern border.”

Erica dropped her arm and straightened. “Just because ye think ye have to take care of us, doesnae mean we are burdens. Dinnae dare go out without a care for the consequences. We are here. If we are yers, ye are ours.”

Her frankness knocked the air out of his lungs—an effect that used to be foreign to him but was growing more and more common whenever she was around. He didn’t have time to formulate a response when she threw her hands up in exasperation and let out a short laugh.

“First Kara, now ye,” she muttered under her breath.

Hunter furrowed his brow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Calvin, who had been flipping through the book with Lily, froze. He shifted in his seat, squaring his shoulders as if preparing for something. Hunter noticed the change immediately, his instincts honed from years of battle. His eyes flicked to Erica, who had turned to face his man-at-arms, her eyes sharp with suspicion.

“Calvin?” she prompted, her voice edged with curiosity. “What is it?”

Calvin hesitated, then squinted slightly as if he was deep in thought. “Nothin’, Me Lady,” he replied. “Just remembered somethin’ I need to tend to.”

Without waiting for a response, he closed the book and excused himself, rushing toward the door.

Hunter watched the man’s retreating figure, unease coiling in his gut. Something wasn’t right. He started to rise, intent on following his man-at-arms.

“Uncle Hunter.” Lily’s small voice stopped him in his tracks. “Can ye read this story with us?”

He froze, torn between his growing concern and the hopeful look on her face. She held the book up to him, her expression so hopeful and so eager that it made his heart ache.

He felt his stomach twist as he gave her a reassuring pat on the head. “I’ll be back shortly, lass,” he said, masking his concern with a smile. Turning to Erica, he gave a quick nod. “Ye two stay here. I need to check on somethin’.”

Erica’s eyes narrowed slightly, but she said nothing. Instead, she crossed her arms in a way that suggested she was mulling over his answer.

Hunter didn’t linger—he had to find Calvin.

Stepping out into the brisk air of the courtyard, he spotted his man-at-arms pacing near the stables, his brow furrowed.

Calvin had been rattled earlier, and Hunter intended to get answers.

“Calvin,” he called, striding toward him.

Calvin looked up, his expression tightening before relaxing into a guarded mask. “Me Laird,” he returned, his tone neutral.

Hunter folded his arms over his chest and gave him a pointed look. “What was that back there? Ye looked ready to jump out of yer skin.”

Calvin sighed, leaning against a post. “It’s… It’s likely nothin’. I’ve been tryin’ to make sense of the odd activity on the border. The tracks, the timing—it feels deliberate, but there’s nay clear connection. Kara’s outbursts crossed me mind for a moment, but it’s a stretch to tie her to this.”

Hunter frowned, leaning in slightly. “Kara? Explain.”

Before Calvin could respond, a voice rang out, drawing both men’s attention.

“My, my, isnae this a serious discussion?” Struan emerged from the shadows, his smirk barely hidden under his otherwise polite facade. “Laird MacKinnon. Calvin Turnbull. Good mornin’.”

Hunter’s back stiffened immediately. Of all his councilmen, Struan had always been the most opportunistic, always angling for influence and power.

He turned to fully face the man, his arms now hanging at his sides but ready. “Struan,” he said, his voice clipped. “What brings ye out here?”

Struan’s eyes darted between them—he was clearly enjoying their discomfort. “I thought I’d check on the young Miss Lily. I heard she wasnae feelin’ well after yesterday’s ride. I do hope she’s feelin’ better now.”

Hunter’s eyes narrowed. “Lily wasnae feeling well?” He turned his glare on Calvin. “Why wasnae I told?”

Calvin, to his credit, stayed calm. “She seemed much better when I saw her earlier. Must have just needed a nice supper and a good rest.”

Struan’s smirk widened, his voice oozing false concern. “It’s a shame, really. Such a spirited lass. And yer wife, too—such a sharp tongue on that one. She didnae take too kindly to me comments yesterday. Ye would think she’d appreciate a little friendly advice.”

Hunter balled his fists, but Calvin stepped in before he could respond.

“Perhaps yer advice would have landed better if it wasnae laced with snide undertones, Struan,” Calvin said coldly. “But then again, subtlety was never yer strength, was it?”

Struan’s expression faltered, his smirk dropping as he straightened. “Ye have always been quick to speak, Calvin, but ye would do well to remember yer place. I’m a councilman, after all.”

“And I’m the Laird’s man-at-arms,” Calvin shot back, his voice steely. “So, if ye have nothin’ useful to say, perhaps ye should see yerself back home.”

Hunter let his man-at-arms take the lead, but his glare didn’t waver. Struan’s arrogance was grating on his nerves, and the councilman seemed to sense it.

Struan adjusted his coat and cleared his throat. “Very well,” he said. “If ye would rather talk business, let’s. I’ve been hearin’ complaints from some families livin’ on the eastern border. With the recent… let’s call them intrusions , shall we? They’re worried about their safety. They’re askin’ how ye plan to allocate resources, especially if this continues.”

Hunter clenched his jaw. “The borders are being fortified,” he replied firmly. “We’ve patrols in place, and any further threats will be dealt with accordingly.”

Struan raised an eyebrow. “Ye are sure? The MacGee family, for example, has reported hearin’ strange noises at night. If we dinnae act swiftly, they may begin questionin’ yer leadership.”

Hunter took a step closer to him, his tall frame casting a shadow over the man. “I hear their concerns, Struan. But it isnae their place to question me leadership, nor is it yers.”

Struan held his ground, though his smugness faltered. “Of course, Me Laird. I only wish to support the clan.”

But he was only met with Hunter’s silence.

After a moment, he inclined his head and backed away. “Good night, Me Laird. Turnbull.”

As soon as Struan disappeared into the castle, Hunter let out a breath through his nose, his temper barely in check.

Calvin exhaled as well, shaking his head. “That man’s as slippery as an eel. I dinnae trust him.”

“He’s been on the council since before I was born. Somehow the man still breathes. I have to trust that me faither kenned how to manage him,” Hunter muttered. He started walking toward the barracks, motioning for Calvin to follow him. “Though it’s clear that he’s sniffin’ around for any signs of weakness.”

Calvin nodded, his expression dark. “And usin’ the MacGees as leverage. If he had his way, half the clan would be doubtin’ ye by sunrise.”

Hunter’s lip curled. “Let him try. Struan’s issue with me has always been about power. He’d rather see himself leadin’ than supportin’.”

They reached the barracks, where the men were sharpening and loading their weapons and preparing for their next patrol.

Hunter paused, his mind racing with possibilities. Struan’s mention of resources, Kara’s strange behavior, and the unsettling signs at the border… they all felt connected, but the pieces didn’t fit yet.

“I’ll be damned if I let him sow discord,” he said finally. “Tomorrow, we’ll double down on the investigation. If there’s a threat, we’ll find it—and Struan will have nay ground to stand on.”

Calvin clapped a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll handle it, Me Laird. Whatever it takes.”

Hunter nodded, his resolve hardening.

Struan can play games, but I willnae let him win.