“Am ashamed tae call ye ma sister,” he yelled, making the wee ones stir and fret.
He stormed outside. I took a step after him—panic biting again—but my uncle caught my arm.
“Let him be fur noo,” he said quietly, shaking his head.
By nightfall, nothing had been resolved. Ranald hadn’t looked at me—let alone spoken to me. I spent most of the night shedding silent tears, listening to the children breathe in their sleep.
Through it all, I felt Thaddeus through the bond, thrumming steadily, trying to lift me when I couldn’t lift myself. I eventually drifted off—but only after hearing him howl in the night.
He was close.
And for now, that was enough.
Chapter 27
Thaddeus
I stared blankly at the teapot. There would be no breakfast or tea poured for Euphemia this morning—no flimsy excuse about needing an update on the work completed in the house.
We’d circled her croft last night, raged at the moon, then dozed beneath a tree beside her home.
I lifted my teacup, only to stare at her empty chair, and put it down again.
Wulfric scratched at my chest, urging me to march down there and take her.
It is not that simple, I insisted.
She is our mate, he hissed back.
I felt a pang of sorrow, but it wasn't mine. I rubbed my chest, hoping she could feel me as I felt her.
This was why I dreaded leaving the cottage. The simple answer would have been to whisk her away and keep her to myself. But that would not have made my mate happy. Not without her family.
I wandered the house like a stray until I reached the parlour and saw the packages and wooden crates from my parents. When I opened them up, it triggered an idea.
It was Christmas in a few days' time.
I could win her family over by then.
Before I rushed off to speak to the household staff, I noticed a letter poking out from one of the crates. It wasn't my father’s handwriting, but my mother's. I plucked the cream envelope and instantly smiled as the scent drifted toward me.
Roses.
My mother’s favourite.
God. What an absolute arse I’d been to my parents.
I pried the envelope open and read the contents.
My dearest Thaddeus,
I pray this letter finds you in good health, and that the northern air has not thinned you too terribly. Your father assures me you are well enough, though I know how little stock you put in such reassurances when your mind is otherwise occupied.
He tells me you have found a potential Scottish bride. Pray, do write and tell me about her. I should dearly like to know the young woman who has finally managed to draw you from yourself.
Are you eating properly? I have sent a few of your favourites, along with the tea you requested. You always did forget meals when something had your full attention.
I have also enclosed several dresses I thought might suit Euphemia. They are of the latest fashion the ton is presently enamoured with, though I am certain a local seamstress will make any necessary adjustments. I hope she will not find them presumptuous—only a small welcome from one woman to another.
