“How?” Elijah asked, genuinely curious. “What would it take to make ye believe me?”
Piper was quiet for a long moment, her gaze searching his face. “Vow it.”
“I already did.”
“Nae properly.”She straightened her shoulders. “Vow on yer life that ye’ll protect me. That ye willnae touch me without permission. And that I’m free to leave yer castle anytime I choose, for any reason, and ye willnae stop me.”
Elijah feltsomething twist in his chest at those words. The thought of her leaving, of watching her walk away from Castle McMahon and never seeing her again—it shouldn’t bother him. He barely knew this lass. Had only met her yesterday.
But it did bother him.More than it should.
Daenae be a fool. She’s nae for ye.
“All right,” he said. “I, Elijah Quinn, Laird of Clan McMahon, vow on me clan’s name and honor that I will protect ye, Piper Armstrong, to the best of me ability. I vow that I willnae touch ye without yer permission. And I vow that ye are free to leave Castle McMahon at any time, for any reason, and I willnae stop ye or pursue ye.”
Piper’s eyes widened slightly. She clearly hadn’t expected him to actually do it.
“That… that’s a bindin’ oath,” she said quietly. “If ye break it…”
“Then I dishonor meself and me clan.” Elijah nodded. “Aye, I ken what it means, lass. That’s why I made it.”
She studiedhim for another long moment, and he could practically see her mind working through the implications.
A laird’s vow was sacred; everyone knew that. To break one was to invite ruin not just on himself but on his entire clan.
No man would makesuch a vow lightly.
“Why?” she finally asked. “Why would ye bind yerself like that for someone ye barely ken?”
Because ye deserve it. Because ye’ve been hurt enough. Because somethin’ about ye calls to me in a way I daenae understand and cannae ignore.
But he couldn’t sayany of that.
“Because it’s the right thing to do,” Elijah said instead.
Piper let out a breath that might have been a laugh. “Ye’re either the most honorable man I’ve ever met or the most foolish.”
“Maybe both.” He tilted his head, studying her. “So. Now that I’ve made me vow, what do ye say? Will ye come with me to Castle McMahon? Or are ye still determined to take yer chances out here alone?”
She looked around at the empty countryside, then back at him. He could see the war playing out across her face—pride versus survival, stubbornness versus practicality.
“If I go with ye,” she said slowly, “ye must give me the opportunity to pay be back. In some way. I willnae accept yer charity otherwise. Ye daenae expect me to just… sit around bein’ grateful.”
There’s the spirit.
“Nay, I daenae expect that,” Elijah paused, an idea forming. It was risky—bringing her into his home, into his children’s lives, but something about it felt right. “What if I offered ye a position?”
“A position?” Suspicion crept back into her voice. “What kind of position?”
“The kind with a contract. Official terms. A proper wage.” He watched her carefully. “Would that make ye feel better about acceptin’ me help? If it were a business arrangement instead of charity?”
“That depends on what kind of business ye’re talkin’ about.”
“The legitimate kind.”Elijah almost smiled at her wariness. Almost. “Tell me, lass. Can ye read?”
The question seemed to catch her off guard. “What?”
“Can ye read? And write?”
