Page 59 of Wicked Kilted Highlander

CHAPTERTWENTY-FIVE

Lara's heart quickened as she and Darragh approached the imposing stone castle, its towering walls casting long shadows across the land in the fading orange twilight. The air was heavy with a sense of foreboding. She shook off the feeling, reminding herself that this was her home, and she had nothing to fear.

Hastily changing into clean clothes more suitable for dining, Lara smoothed down her skirts nervously, her fingers trembling ever so slightly. Beside her, Darragh tugged at his jerkin, adjusting it over his broad, muscular frame. His black eyes darted like curious shadows, betraying an underlying anxiety. In moments such as these, when they were alone together, Lara found herself fascinated by the boyish beauty of his face, marred only by the scars that hinted at a past filled with pain and loss.

"Ready?" he asked, offering her a reassuring smile. Lara nodded, trying her best to appear composed, and together they made their way to the grand hall, where the rest of the household was gathering for the evening meal.

As they entered, the room seemed to hold its breath, conversations dying away as grim expressions greeted them like unwelcome specters. Lara's stomach twisted with apprehension, her eyes scanning the faces around her for some clue as to what had transpired in their absence. Gil, Quinn, and Elsie were looking at them as well.

"Whatever has happened?" she ventured, addressing the steward who stood nearby, his face a picture of somber unease.

"Me lady," he replied, voice low and measured. "An entire cattle herd has escaped its pen and vanished into the forest. Upon searching, a bloodstained knife was found, just where the beasts' tracks vanish at the edge of the woods. There was some blood, and what looks to be a scrap of torn material from a shirt or shawl. And, we found a handprint in the mud. It was a man's, we think, judging by the size of the palm."

As he explained the facts to them, Gil walked over to them and produced the knife from within the folds of his clothing. As the weapon was revealed, Darragh gasped audibly, his face paling.

"By the saints," he exclaimed, looking at Lara with desperate bewilderment. "That's my hunting dagger. But it wasnae me!” Darragh burst out as he saw how all eyes were looking at him and his dagger.

"Of course, nae, Darragh," Gil reassured. "I am sure there will be an explanation."

"Nonetheless, this is all so very strange," Quinn muttered.

"I'll say," Elsie agreed.

Lara looked at Quinn, who seemed troubled, as if he was trying to solve a puzzle, and he was also looking at her with an unreadable expression.

"Come," he said. "Let us all go and eat."

Lara stared at him in disbelief, her thoughts racing like wild horses. She knew Darragh had problems trusting people and struggled to let people get close to him for fear of losing them. But she couldn't believe he would ever be involved in something so treacherous. The room seemed to close in around them, whispers swirling like vultures ready to pick apart any semblance of trust left between them.

"Ye must ken I'd never dae such a thing, Lara," Darragh said, his voice thick with emotion. "I dinnae ken how me knife came tae be there, but I swear on me life, I had nae part in this. I was with Gil this morning and with ye the rest of the day."

Lara looked into his eyes, searching for the truth hidden behind his fears, and found herself believing him. She swallowed hard, reaching out to touch his arm in a silent gesture of support.

With the weight of all eyes upon him, Darragh's broad shoulders tensed, as if he were bracing against a storm. Lara could see his mind racing, struggling to comprehend how his knife had come to be at the heart of such misfortune.

Then she saw her father advance toward Darragh with clenched fists, and Lara felt her heart tighten in her chest. She could not let the situation escalate further. She had to be the voice of reason amid the tempest.

"There is nae need for us all tae dae something we’ll regret!" she reasoned, stepping between the two men. Her small frame belied her fierce determination as she held up a restraining hand. "Now is nae the time for rash actions. Let us hear what Darragh has tae say before casting judgment."

Laird MacLean hesitated, his knuckles whitening around his balled fists. He glared at Darragh, cold fury smoldering behind his eyes, but finally he reluctantly stepped back. Lara took a deep breath, feeling the weight of responsibility settle upon her shoulders.

It was clear to her that Darragh's word alone would not be enough to sway those who doubted him—she would have to help him unearth the truth.

"Speak then, Darragh," she urged gently, her eyes seeking his. "Tell us what ye ken, and we shall listen."

Darragh looked at her gratefully, the flicker of hope igniting within him. "I cannae say for certain how me knife ended up by the cattle pen," he began, his voice strong and steady. "But I will dae everything in me power tae help find out who is responsible fer letting the animals go free, ye have me word."

"Yer word means naught tae me at this moment," Laird MacLean snarled, his patience worn thin. "Prove yer innocence lad or face the consequences."

Lara bit her lip. Her thoughts raced like wild horses, searching for a way to unravel the tangled skein of events that had ensnared them. She felt the heat of Darragh's gaze upon her, his trust a warm ember in the cold night, and she knew she could not falter.

"Then we shall find the truth together," she vowed softly, taking Darragh's hand in hers. "And may the saints guide us on our path."

With a wary eye on her father, Lara picked at her food when the meal commenced. The tension in the air was palpable and she could feel the weight of Darragh's concern pressing against her leg as he offered soothing caresses beneath the table. She wished she could trust his touch to chase away her fears, but the uncertainty gnawing at her heart refused to be silenced.

"An interesting development," her father said between bites, drawing Lara's attention back to the conversation. "A wandering healer has come tae ask fer shelter, and I agreed, as long as she checks on Lara's child." He paused, a knowing smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "What a timely coincidence, would ye nae say?"

Lara swallowed hard, her eyes darting to Darragh before returning to her father. The mention of a healer should have been a comfort, but instead it only served to heighten her anxiety. As if sensing her unease, Darragh's fingers tightened around her leg, but the gesture did little to calm her frayed nerves.