“’Tis nae devilry, but a game of tag,” I said, keeping my voice deliberately light despite the rapid beating of my heart. I gently extricated myself from his grip and turned slightly, placing one hand on each girl’s shoulder. “The lasses were showing me the castle.”
His eyes narrowed, flicking from me to the children who peeked out from behind me. “I told ye to keep them away from me,” he growled, though his voice had lowered somewhat.
Bess trembled beneath my hand, and her fright at her own da, caused my temper to surge. I straightened my spine, meeting his gaze steadily. “Ye should nae bellow so around the wee lasses,” I said, my tone gentle but firm. “Ye’re frightening them.”
Surprise flashed across his face, as if no one had dared to correct him in a very long time. His mouth opened, then closed, his brow furrowing as he looked down at his daughters. For a moment, something like regret shadowed his features, but it vanished as quickly as it had appeared.
The silence that followed was thick with unspoken words. The girls remained half-hidden behind me, their small fingers clutching at my skirts. Munro stood rigid, his face a mask of discomfort as he regarded his daughters with the wariness of a man facing unfamiliar terrain. And there I stood between them. I was a stranger caught amid a family broken by something I didn’t yet understand.
“Guinn, Bess,” he finally said, his voice strained as if their names were foreign on his tongue. “Ye should nae be running through the castle like wild things.”
“We were just playing,” Guinn said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.
Munro flinched as if her words hit him. He looked at me, then back at his daughters, a man clearly caught in a situation he had no idea how to navigate.
Retreat flashed in his eyes before he even opened his mouth to make his excuses. His body tensed, shoulders drawing back as he no doubt prepared to dismiss both his daughters and me in one breath. I could not allow it. If I were to fulfill Morgana’s charge to make this man feel again, I needed to create moments when he and his daughters could begin to know each other once more, no matter how uncomfortable they might be.
“I’ve matters to attend to,” he muttered, already taking a step backward. “James will be looking for the lasses.”
“Actually,” I interjected quickly, offering him a smile I hoped appeared guileless rather than calculated, “I was hoping ye might show me around the castle. I’ll need to ken where to take the lasses during our daily activities. Where they can play safely, where they should nae go.”
His eyes darted, searching, I was certain, for an escape or excuse. Before he could find one, Guinn peered around my skirts, her green eyes bright with sudden hope.
“Can we join the tour, Da?” she asked, her voice hesitant but eager.
Bess, emboldened by her sister’s bravery, stepped out from behind me entirely. “Please? We can help show Murieall where everything is.”
His face tightened, the refusal evident in his jaw’s set. I knew I had only seconds before he shattered the fragile hope in his daughters’ eyes.
“Aye, that’s a fine idea,” I rushed out, as if the matter were already decided. “We can all learn about each other better. After all, I’ll be looking after the lasses for a month, and I should ken what places they favor in the castle.”
His gaze met mine, a flash of annoyance evident there. I stared back steadily, silently challenging him to refuse in front of his daughters. After a tense moment, he gave a curt nod, though the rigid set of his shoulders spoke volumes about his reluctance.
“Verra well,” he said, his voice flat.
He turned abruptly and walked away, leaving us to follow in his wake. I took each girl by the hand, giving them a reassuring squeeze as we hurried to catch up with his long strides. He maintained a careful distance ahead of us, his back straight as a pike staff, shoulders set with tension that seemed to radiate from him in waves.
“We’ll start with the nursery,” he said without looking back. “I imagine the lasses have spent some time there since returning.”
He imagined? He didn’t know where his daughters had been spending their time in his own castle. A knot of sadness for him and the girls lodged in my throat.
“Where were ye lasses before ye returned home?” I asked.
“At Gunn stronghold with our aunt and uncle,” Guinn said.
As we walked, I deliberately asked the girls more questions. I hoped their answers would soften something within Munro. “Did ye like it there?”
“Aye,” they answered in unison.
“We missed Da, though,” Bess said. “And Mama, but she’s dead.”
Munro’s step faltered at that, but only for a moment. I had suspected his wife might be dead, given there’d been no mention of her from him, but the child’s confirmation of their loss made my heart squeeze. Grief explained why he’d closed his heart off.He must have loved his wife deeply, and I imagined the lasses were painful reminders of her.
“I missed my bed at first,” Guinn said, drawing my focus back to her, “but then I forgot how comfortable it was until I returned home.”
“How long were ye there?” I asked, wishing I knew when their mama had died so that I could put the pieces of information neatly in their places.
The girls looked at each other, their expressions both helpless.
