“Enough,” he muttered. “I… I need air.”
Before anyone could speak, he shoved past Kenny, past his Council, past everyone, pushing through the doors and out into the courtyard with heavy, unsteady steps.
Davina watched him go, with her heart twisting. She knew that flight. She knew that desperate need to escape the eyes of others, the voices, the judgment. But she also knew just as surely that he should not be left alone.
She drew in a trembling breath. Then she gathered her skirts and followed him out into the night. The courtyard was cold, but she pushed through the wind. She refused to be stopped, as she rushed toward the old well, where Baird was standing, with his back to her.
“Baird,” she said softly.
He didn’t turn. His hands were braced on the stone rim of the well, as if he needed something solid to keep himself upright.
“Davina… ye should go inside,” he rasped. “I… I dinnae want ye tae see me like this.”
“I’m nae going anywhere.”
All she could hear was the silence and the wind.
“It was all true,” he suddenly said. “Every damned word Filib spat.”
Davina stepped closer, careful not to startle him. “Baird…”
“He loved me maither,” Baird continued. “He loved her enough tae kill me braither. He loved her enough tae poison the clan she served. That’s what love made him dae.”
Davina felt his agony like a physical force.
He finally turned to her. His face was pale and his eyes were wild with hurt and fury layered on top of decades of buried wounds.
“Me maither died bringing Malcolm intae this world,” he explained heavily, as if every word cost him a year of his life. “I was eight. Old enough tae understand loss but nae old enough tae bear it. Me faither…” His breath caught. “Me faither blamed both me and Malcolm fer her death.”
Her heart clenched. How could that man blame a child for something like that?
Baird looked away, staring into some distant, terrible memory.
“He said I’d weakened her with me birth, that I’d taken too much from her and left her frail, that she had naething left when Malcolm came.” His voice trembled despite his effort to keep it steady. “He said that if I’d been stronger, she would’ve survived.”
“Oh, Baird…” Davina whispered.
He let out a hollow, broken laugh. “I spent me entire childhood trying tae prove him wrong. Stand straighter. Train harder. Feel naething, need naething.” His fists knotted at his sides. “Every day, I tried tae be the son he wanted, because if I failed even once, he reminded me of what I’d cost him.”
Davina’s vision blurred with tears.
“He forbade anyone tae speak her name,” Baird said quietly. “Tore out the flowers she planted. Closed her garden. Locked away everything she ever touched, because he said her memory made the clan weak.”
“And Filib?” she asked gently.
Baird’s jaw clenched.
“It’s obvious now he despised all of us. Me faither fer winning her. Me braither fer taking her last breath. And me…” He let out a harsh breath. “Me fer being the first-born son of the woman he could nae ferget. He was aware that removing Malcolm would prevent this marriage from taking place, therefore weakening the clan. But we surprised him…”
Davina took a step closer. “And ye’ve carried all that alone.”
“Aye,” he whispered. “Because that’s what a laird daes. Bear it. Swallow it. Lock it away.” He met her eyes then, his own breaking open. “But I couldnae lock it away taenight. I nearly killed him in front of the clan, Davina. I nearly proved me faither right, that emotion makes a man weak.”
Davina reached for him, placing her hand gently over his.
“Listen tae me,” she said, speaking steadily despite her tears. “What yer faither taught ye was wrong.”
Baird swallowed hard, but she continued.
