Max felt the bands around his chest loosen.
Laird Ewan Oliphant suddenly surged to his feet, and Max had to tip his head back to hold his gaze.
“I met yer mother thirty-two years ago, laddie,” the man announced. “At a party in Mobile. I didnae realize she was married, and she told me she was visiting her sister.”
Slowly, Max rose to his feet. “Her sister was married to a wealthy man in Mobile. Fath—Roy DeVille told me she would run away there after he’d beaten her too hard.”
“She told me the bruise on her wrist was because she’d fallen.” The older man shook his head. “I remember how delicate she was, and I remember how eagerly she responded to me, as if she was desperate for some kindness. At the time, laddie, ye have to ken I was young and full of myself—I thought it wasmeshe was responding to.”
It was more likely she was just looking for an escape from the cruel life her husband forced her to live.
But Max nodded, a bit jerkily, his heart pounding. “I’m glad you could give her some happiness, sir, however short your time together.”
The laird’s expression melted into a smile, and he stepped toward Max. “I think, kenning what we ken, perhaps ye stop with all thissirnonsense.”
Hope was slowly overcoming the fear, and Max found himself leaning toward the older man.
Toward his father.
“I—I want you to know that I didn’t come to the Highlands expecting anything from you or your family.”
Laird Oliphant’s arms rose again, as if welcoming Max. “You dinnae have to, laddie. We’re yer family too.”
Exhaling, Max stepped into his father’s embrace and felt the tension, the uncertainty, draining away.
Roy DeVille had never hugged him, never touched him with anything other than pain in mind. Here was a man who’d only just met Max, and was willing to offer him comfort and acceptance merely because they shared blood.
Hesitantly, Max raised his hand to rest against the older man’s back. He could feel Laird Oliphant’s breaths, and felt his own struggling to match them.
Father.
He had a father, arealfather, one who’d accepted him andhuggedhim.
When the older man pulled back, Max dropped his hold awkwardly, not sure what was expected of him. But Laird Oliphant gripped his shoulders and smiled up into his eyes.
“Ye’re a fine young man, laddie, and yer mother would be proud of ye, if she could see ye.”
Oh dammit, his throat was closing up again. Max nodded jerkily, acknowledging the compliment. “Thank you,” he rasped.
The older man’s grin grew as his hold tightened. “And I’m proud to call yemine, son.”
Hell, here came the tears.
His father pulled him back into a hug, and this time, Max hugged him right back.
“Lady Dumpkins is throwing a house party in a few weeks. The first big event will be her annual Midsummer Masquerade Ball,” the laird announced as he squeezed. “All the locals attend. Ye’ll be officially introduced there.”
A ball? A masquerade ball?
Max remembered the annual Fourth of July shindig back in Everland, and wondered how different this would be.
His father was beaming when they separated, and Max felt as if that hug were still wrapping him in acceptance and support…he found himself grinning in return.
“With my name and yer siblings’ support, ye’ll find it easier to fit in at the factory.”
“Siblings?” Why hadn’t he considered that? “I have—ye have children? Of course ye do.”
“Aye, a randy auld goat like meself?” the man chuckled, holding his thick stomach. “Four fine bairns from two marriages, and ye’re no’ the first bastard I’ve acknowledged and employed either.” He nodded proudly. “My heir, Leonidas—I call him Lyon—rarely leaves the ancestral estate, but we might convince him to show up to the ball to show his support. Ye’ll like my otherlads—Phineas and Lysander. And yer sister Athena is a bit too much like her auldest brother, but if Lyon shows up, she might as well. And there’ll be the Duke of Cashard attending, of course, and plenty of the local gentry. We’ll introduce ye around, and before ye ken it, ye’ll be at home among the Oliphant clan.”
