The laird didn’t shake her off. He only placed a calming hand on her arm, stilling her. Their gazes fused. Kylie’s warm brown eyes glittered with tears.
“Ye can all stop looking at me as if I’m a beast,” he growled, gently extricating himself from her. He turned back to Ailean, lip curling. “I will not disown him … or cast him out without a penny to his name.”
He crossed to his desk, where an iron strongbox sat amongst his papers and ledgers. Grabbing a key from his belt, he unlocked it, reached in, and withdrew a pouch heavy with coin. The metal clinked as he carried it back.
He seized Ailean’s wrist, yanked his hand open, and slammed the purse into his palm.
“Take this,” he grunted. “It’s all ye’re getting, so make it last. Ye are to leave here tomorrow. Go north to Ardnacross. Recall that ruined tower on our border? I charge ye with rebuilding it, stewarding those lands. It’s more than ye deserve. But ye are my son, after all. I won’t leave ye with nothing.”
Nothing.
The word rang in Ailean’s ears.
He stared at his father, reeling.
Everything had moved so swiftly downstairs. Ailean had watched Fiona flee, knowing she’d never forgive his silence. He should have spoken, and yet, he’d stood there like a tongue-tied daftie while his father humiliated them both.
And now, he was tearing away his birthright.
His son wasn’t just a reckless hothead who couldn’t keep his rod in his braies. He wasn’t worthy of inheriting this castle.
To make matters worse, the accusations struck home. He did chafe against the constraints of being firstborn. But he’d never expected this. Not from his father.
His fingers clenched around the purse.
He wanted to fling it back in the bastard’s face. To tell him he could stick it right up his arse. How dare he?
He could leave tonight. Travel to the mainland. Find work as a mercenary. Live a warrior’s life.
Or he could go south to Duart. The clan-chief would take him in. Loch needed fighting men, especially with trouble brewing with the MacDonalds of Sleat.
The future yawned open before him.
But something stopped him.
Something leashed his tongue.
His anger burned hot behind his ribs, but he swallowed it down.
“Get out of my sight,” Rae said then, voice rough with the same incinerating fury. The air was thick with it.
Lyle had edged forward, body coiled as if ready to spring between them.
But Ailean held himself back.
He could see it in his father’s eyes—the expectation of an explosion. Proof that he’d judged him right.
He’d deny him that.
Wordlessly, Ailean turned and made for the door.
PART TWO: REDEMPTION
21: UNDER THE COVER OF DARKNESS
THE CASTLE STILL slept as Fiona padded her way down the spiral staircase. Across her front, she carried a bulging woolen bundle stuffed with her belongings. She’d arrived at Dounarwyse with little, and she would depart the same way.
The laird had bid her to wait for Lady Kylie’s decision at dawn, but she wouldn’t.
