Deep down, she worried he was right. She’d spent five years telling herself that she was enough, but what if she wasn’t? What if she wasn’t enough for Callan…wasn’t enough forherself?
Da must’ve realized he’d upset her, because she heard him clear his throat and lumber out of the chair.
“Athena, ye ken I think he’s a fine lad, but…Callan’s been acting out lately.”
She whirled to glare. “He hasno’. He has been withme.”
No’ all of the time, a traitorous voice whispered.
Her father had the good grace to look awkward, shifting his weight, his hands going to his pockets. “I’m the laird, lassie, and it’s my responsibility to keep an eye on these things. The housekeeper’s been coming to me with complaints of strange thefts.”
Thefts? Athena frowned, hating the way her stomach had clenched. “What do ye mean?” she rasped, her fingersdigging into the edge of the dressing table. “Ye are certain my son has been stealing?”
Her father had the good grace to shift awkwardly and look away. “No’ all of them, nay. Mostly it’s been little things—books from the library, pillows and blankets—that sort of thing.”
Athena felt the blood draining from her face, remembering an instance not very long enough where, when she’d finished reading Callan a book, he’d yanked a pillow from the sofa where they’d been sitting and darted past Phineas, who’d come to speak with her.
So her voice was weak when she whispered, “I see.”
“Did yer brother say anything to ye about his new wife’s eyeglasses?”
Athena’s gaze jerked back to her father. “Eyeglasses? Olive’s spectacles?”
Da shrugged apologetically. “Apparently at the beginning of the summer, the lad stole a pair of them from her, right in front of Phin. I trust him to tell the truth.”
With a sigh, Athena admitted that she did as well. “Aye,” she agreed. “I will speak to Callan.”
“I would no’ bother the lad normally, but…” Her father winced. “A scroll on Oliphant history has gone missing.”
Her eyes widened. “He stole a piece of clan history?” She’d read them all to her son, wanting him to beproudof his family’s past. “I kenned he loved hearing them, but he cannae read!”
“Aye, and…well.” Her father shrugged. “A portrait of my grandfather is missing.”
“Aportrait?” she bleated. “Why would a lad steal a portrait from the portrait hall?”
Da shrugged again. “I cannae imagine it’s anything too wicked. No’ as if he has gambling debts he needs to pay off, eh?”
She huffed, irritation replacing the dread in her stomach. Dread ofso manythings. “I will speak to him. Pillows are one thing, but historical scrolls and a portrait are another!”
“And my books,” Da reminded her helpfully, his good nature reasserting itself as he rocked back on his heels. “Well, I suppose Callan’s new bad habit is problem for another day, eh? Tonight we must get ye ready for Melanie’s party!”
Ah yes. In her irritation, Athena had almost lost sight of that. Huzzah, another reason to be irritated.
“Da, I think it best if I stayed home to deal with my son?—”
“Nonsense!” He was already hurrying toward the door. “I’ll just pop on my formal togs—Melanie likes me in my kilt, ye ken—and I’ll have the carriage brought ‘round for ye.” At the door, he waggled a finger in warning. “I told her I’d have ye there, just in time to dance with her duke.”
Blasted dukes, thinking they can control everyone.
“Fine, Da,” she sighed. “But I will no’ stay for the rest of it, eh? Ye can, I will send the carriage back for ye.”
Beneath his bushy beard, her father frowned. “Ye willnae stay for the dinner?”
Not if she was going to be forced to eat beside a duke she had no interest in. But she merely lifted her chin and waited for her father to come to the same conclusion.
To her surprise, her father sighed and, in a sudden flurry of movement, stomped back across the room to gather her in his arms.
Da always gave the best hugs.
