Scottish Devil (Brethren of Stone 1)

She swallowed hard. The grief on their faces was far more palpable than Lord Alban’s and some of the younger boys wiped tears from their eyes still. Her heart ached for them, having just experienced a loss akin to theirs.

A few had dark skin and hair like Lord Alban, but some were fair and she wondered if they all were his siblings or relations of another kind. They clearly didn’t live in the village or they would have travelled on with the rest of the mourners.

Lord Alban reached down and picked up the girl, who wrapped her arms and legs about him, resting her cheek on his shoulder. “I ken, lamb,” he said.

His voice was completely different, near soothing. Her insides fluttered again and she cocked her head to the side. Surely it wasn’t fear motivating her feelings now. But what emotion would cause such a reaction to his voice if she wasn’t frightened?

A lump formed in Eliza’s throat, her empathy for the child making it difficult to hold back tears. The girl looked like a little angel. Her long blonde hair cascaded down the dark rough skin of his arm.

“Who will take care of me?” the little girl asked.

“I will, of course,” he soothed. Then his eyes focused back on her and her father. She nearly jumped as their dark blue piecing depths collided with hers. Fringed with dark lashes that accentuated the color, she found herself unable to look away. “Shall we?”

He didn’t wait for a response before he strode past them, still holding the child. Eliza attempted not to huff her breath. How rude. She knew she should make allowances because he was fresh into mourning but it was difficult after all she’d heard. And she mustn’t forget, no matter how sweet he had just appeared, she was dealing with the devil.

Chapter Two

Stone led the way into the house and into a sitting room where refreshments had already been laid out.

He was mildly amazed they still had food to share. The mourners having nearly eaten them out of house and home.

Not bothering with the food, he crossed to the decanter of whisky that sat on its own table. He reached for a glass, poured himself a large snifter, and tossed the drink back in a single gulp. As he turned Allister’s daughter give him a look of disapproval, her lovely pink lips turning down at the corners.

His eyes narrowed and he poured another whisky, chasing down the first. Let the little chit judge. He cared not. Had she buried both of her parents today? Did she find herself to be head of a family and of the surrounding land? Thousands of people depending on her for their very survival?

Damnation, he normally didn’t let people bother him so. Surely the day’s emotional turmoil had to be the reason for his unwarranted reaction.

After setting the glass back down, he waved and signaled for his siblings to line up. “Eliza,” as he said her name, she nearly jumped. Another ripple of irritation passed through him. “I’d like to introduce you to my siblings. This is Blair.” He pointed to his next oldest brother, “William. The twins are Matthew and Roderick. And then our little sister, Delia.” He poured himself yet another glass of whisky. “On behalf of our family, we’d like to extend our condolences for your loss.”

Eliza gave a stiff nod. “And to ye as well.”

“If ye’ll forgive us for dispensing with any more formalities, I think we’d all like to eat.” He gestured toward the food. “Please feel free to join us.”

“Thank ye,” she said, but he ignored it, tipping his glass to his lips.

He heard her huff then. A little sound of disapproval. He dropped his glass back down and glared at her. It had been one of the worst days of his life and he’d endured enough judgment already. He wouldn’t tolerate it in his own home. But as she opened his mouth to speak, Allister stepped forward.

“Thank ye fer yer kindness.” He gave a pointed look back at his daughter. “Refreshments sound lovely.”

Both Allister and his daughter followed his siblings to the buffet of food. As the whisky blazed a trail to his stomach, he couldn’t help but note that his new guest was lovely. Granted she was no better than any of those other letches who had tittered behind their hands at his parents’ funeral, but she was stunning. Her dress cinched at her waist, her curves waiting for a man’s hand.

He gave his head a shake to clear it. He didn’t involve himself with pretty chits who gave him disapproving glares. His mind was surely muddled. A good ride along the sea path, or a swim in the loch would clear his head. Though early in the year for swimming, the cold water might shock him back to normalcy.

He tossed himself into a chair and covered his face with his arm. With Allister here, perhaps the other man could help him with some of the duties so that he might take some time and grieve, perhaps learn his new place in this world.

But for now, he needed some solitude. “Allister, thank ye again for comin’. We can talk more tomorrow, but if ye’ll excuse me.” He didn’t bother with an explanation. He assumed it was understood. He simply rose and left.

Eliza watched him go and tried to refrain from huffing again. Her father wouldn’t approve. The man didn’t seem to have a soft bone in his body. She guessed Stone Alban was truly a fitting name. A lord of is stature should have stayed to entertain his guests.

She had near crossed the country, despite being in mourning, so that her father could help them sort their affairs. She supposed she hadn’t been required to come, but her father had near insisted. With her mother gone, the home that had once been filled with love and laughter now echoed with sorrow and loss. She couldn’t stay in that house alone. Her mother had passed a month ago and it still didn’t feel the same as it had before. It used to be her home.

Much had changed in the past month. She’d changed. Eliza understood much about the world she hadn’t her first twenty years of life, how unjust it could be, how unfair.

And she knew what it meant to be without her mother. A sadness had filled her, sapping the life out of her. She was angry, yes, but with no desire to do a thing about it. It still took her breath away and that grief made her darker than she’d been before.

She nibbled at the food on her plate but her legs were restless after hours in the carriage. Taking a deep breath, she realized it had been weeks since she’d felt this sort of energy. Finally, she turned to her father. “Is it all right if I take a walk?” Even from this room, hints of the river that bent around the castle peaked through the windows.