Page 28 of The Laird’s Wrong Wife

Oscar then bent his head. Her face lifted, and the space between their mouths shrank to a hairsbreadth. Warm air touched his lips, and his body stirred again as her fingers tightened around his wrist.

Suddenly, the key scraped inside the lock.

Ceana stepped away so quickly that her dress struck the desk. She reached for the abandoned cup, though she did not drink.

“It seems we are free, me Laird.”

The door opened, and Tommy stood on the threshold, wearing a satisfied grin. Paisley hovered behind him, her hands clasped tightly before her.

Oscar straightened. “Tommy, ye will explain yerself.”

“Why did ye lock the door?” Ceana asked, her calm question reaching the boy before Oscar’s sharper tone.

Tommy looked from her to his father. “So ye could finish dancin’.”

“And because ye thought it funny?”

His grin returned. “Aye.”

Ceana approached him and crouched until their eyes were level. “Would ye find it funny if someone shut ye inside a room and took away the key?”

“I wouldnae be frightened.”

“What if ye couldnae open the door and nay one answered when ye called?”

Tommy glanced toward Paisley. His confidence faltered at the simple question.

“I would kick it,” he answered.

“And if kickin’ didnae work?”

His boot scraped against the floor. “I might be frightened then.”

Oscar watched the boy’s shoulders draw inward. He had always punished the locking of doors, removed privileges, and ordered guards to watch Tommy more closely. He had never asked his son to consider the fear of the person left behind.

“Have ye ever been frightened when ye were alone?” Ceana asked.

Tommy shook his head, then stopped. “Sometimes.”

“Would ye like to make another person feel that way?”

“Nay.” His gaze fell to the key in his hand. “I am sorry.”

Ceana opened her arms, and Tommy stepped into them at once. She held him close before drawing back enough to look at him.

“Admittin’ ye are wrong takes courage, sweetness.”

Paisley’s shoulders relaxed. She collected the key from Tommy and carried it to Oscar. “I told him we should come back.”

“Oh well, ye still followed him,” Oscar pointed out.

A faint flush crept up her cheeks. “Aye, Faither.”

He accepted the key. “Neither of ye will keep this tonight. The apology is sufficient. Go to bed.”

Tommy hugged Ceana once more before taking Paisley’s hand. His sister guided him into the corridor, pausing to give Ceana a small smile.

Oscar waited until their footsteps faded before looking at Ceana. “Ye are a witch.”