Page 24 of Stealing a Kilted Heart

Fia didn’t know what had happened to Laird Stuart’s parents, but she did know they were dead. Hearing him talk so fondly about his mother and his memories of her made her chest tighten with grief, her fingers curling tightly around the handle of her chipped cup. She had never experienced anything like that with her mother, but she could tell just how much it pained Laird Stuart to have lost his; how much he cherished those memories.

“How did she die?” Fia asked before she could stop herself, hoping the question wasn’t insensitive.

“They were killed,” said Laird Stuart. “Both o’ them.”

He said nothing more on the matter and Fia didn’t ask. It was not her place, nor did she want to dig up those painful memories for him.

Before she could find something to say to change the subject, there was a knock on the door and it opened to reveal several of her neighbors, who had apparently already noticed her arrival in Duror. There was a chorus of greetings, all of them rushing into the house to ask about her and her new life—at least until they noticed Laird Stuart sitting there, watching them with a pleasant smile on his face.

Fia didn’t know how many of them recognized him, but there was one thing for certain; they all knew he was someone important, dressed in such fine clothes as he was.

Laird Stuart stood and stepped towards the small crowd, the smile never waning from his lips. Fia watched him, wondering what he would do, but she could have never predicted he would simply introduce himself.

“Good afternoon’,” he said. “Laird Knox Stuart, pleased tae make yer acquaintance.”

The room was plunged in a stunned silence. Even Fia didn’t know what to say, as she had expected the laird to step out of the house and distance himself from the crowd, but he had done the exact opposite, drawing all the attention to himself.

Is he mad? Daesnae he ken they will pester him until we leave now?

Just as Fia thought, everyone descended like vultures upon the laird, some with praise and others with demands, but all of them speaking over each other, trying to make themselves heard. Laird Stuart took it with grace, though, bowing his head ever so slightly as though he wasn’t speaking to a group of peasants but rather nobles who had come to see him in his castle.

He moved with a confidence and grace that made even this cottage seem comparable to the great hall of his castle as he reassured them all that he would listen to them, as long as they spoke one at a time. Fia could only stare, dumbfounded, but this was all the confirmation she needed.

Laird Stuart didn’t consider any of this beneath him. He was not like Callum, Fia told herself. He was nothing like the man who had humiliated her.