“A wage,”Findlay repeated slowly, understanding dawning. “Paisley, are ye thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’?”
“I’m thinkin’that we raised that girl for twenty-four years. Fed her, clothed her, gave her a roof over her head. And now she’s got herself a fine position with a wealthy laird, and we’re still here, scratchin’ by, drownin’ in debt.” Paisley leaned forward. “Seems to me, she owes us. Seems to me, it’s time our daughter started supportin’ her poor parents in their time of need.”
Findlay felta grin spreading across his face, the first genuine smile he’d had in weeks. “Ye’re right. She does owe us. We’re her parents, after all. It’s her duty to help us.”
“Exactly.”Paisley sat back, looking pleased with herself. “So here’s what we’re goin’ to do. We’re goin’ to pay a visit to Castle McMahon. We’re goin’ to have a nice chat with our dear daughter. And we’re goin’ to make sure she understands that family takes care of family.”
“And if she refuses?”
“Then we’ll remindher what happens when she defies us.” Paisley’s expression hardened. “One way or another, that girl is goin’ to give us what we’re owed. Even if we have to shame her in front of her fancy laird to get it.”
Findlay raisedhis cup in a mock toast. “To family reunions.”
“To finally gettin’what’s ours,” Paisley corrected, clinking her cup against his.
18
“Now, Masie, can ye translate this next passage from English to French?”
Piper stoodat the front of the schoolroom, pointing to the text on the board. Masie bent over her slate, her brow furrowed in concentration, while Connor worked through arithmetic problems at his own desk.
It had beentwo days since the incident in the portrait gallery. Two days of stolen glances across the great hall. Two days of Piper’s body remembering exactly what Elijah’s hands had felt like on her skin.
And two daysof trying very hard to pretend everything was normal.
“Miss Armstrong?”Masie looked up. “Is this correct?”
Piper forcedher attention back to the lesson, moving to examine Masie’s work. “Aye, that’s?—”
A knockat the door interrupted her. One of the young maids—Ellen, Piper thought her name was—poked her head in, looking uncomfortable.
“Beggin’yer pardon, Miss Armstrong, but there’s… there’s someone here demandin’ to see ye.”
“Demandin’?”Piper frowned. “Who?”
“They’re waitin’in the courtyard. Refused to leave until they speak with ye.”
The blood drainedfrom Piper’s face. Who could it be? She hoped with everything inside her that it wasn’t her parents or one of her captors.
“Miss Armstrong?”Masie’s voice seemed to come from very far away. “Are ye all right? Ye’ve gone all pale.”
“I’m…”Piper’s voice came out strangled. She cleared her throat and tried again. “I’m fine. I need to go handle somethin’. Can ye both continue with yer work while I’m gone?”
“But who’s hereto see ye?” Connor asked, his curiosity evident.
Piper was already movingtoward the door. “Please. Just continue with yer work. I’ll be back shortly.”
“Should I fetch me da?”Masie asked suddenly, her eyes sharp. “Ye look like ye might need?—”
“Nay!”The word came out too fast, too desperate. “Nay, I’ll be fine. I just need to… to handle this meself. ‘Tis a personal matter.”
She followedEllen through the corridors, her heart pounding with each step. Maybe it wasn’t them.
But when shestepped out into the courtyard, there they were.
Findlay and Paisley Armstrongstood near the gates, looking out of place among the bustle of castle life.
Her father worethe same threadbare coat she remembered, his face ruddy from drink. Her mother had attempted to dress nicely, probably borrowed or stolen the gown she wore, but her gray eyes were as cold and calculating as ever.
