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“You are welcome to tell the Wakefields that what they have learned today of my connection to Teviot Castle is a lie, but I suspect the MacGregors and Lithgows would be both confused and insulted if you did so.”

The laird’s nostrils flared. “I will not endure this insolence.”

“I had not expected you to.”

Clearly the man had believed the grandson he refused to acknowledge would crumble under his disapproval. “You live at the home farm by my generosity. You will—”

Sebastian held up his hand even as he spoke over the declaration. “I have lived at the home farm as a matter of patience. But no longer. All of my belongings were removed yesterday and this morning. As of this moment, you no longer have a home farmer. I would suggest you secure one.”

He offered a quick bow and offered his arm to Cordelia once more. She accepted. As they walked past the laird, she stuck her plate into the sputtering man’s hand, taking advantage of his confusion. They continued on, making a slow circuit back in the direction of the guests.

“You have already moved out?”

“My father left me a bit of land, free of the entail connected to the castle. It is time I lived there, as my own man, out from under the thumb of the laird.”

“And it is nearby?” she pressed.

His smile turned to a grin. “So much so that you are familiar with it.”

On that mystery, they reached the others, and she lost all opportunity to quiz him. Her curiosity was piqued. But more than that, her heart was at ease. He was nearby. Her parents could not object. The laird could not keep them apart.

There was every reason to live with hope for a bright future.