by Paula Quinn
“My dearest,” he groaned into her ear. “I feared I would never see you again.”
“I feared it as well,” she whispered into his shoulder.
He withdrew and regained his composure.
“Are you unwell in any way?”
She shook her head and looked away. No, save that she was more aware now of the unfamiliar. William had aged much in three years. His skin was tanned from the sun and weathered by taking in the whole world in so short a time. Where had he been? What had he seen, and done, and learned? He hadn’t been home long enough for her to find out before she was taken. There was so much she didn’t know about him anymore. He smelled of tobacco and sandalwood. He’d never smoked before. When did he begin? Where?
His voice sounded the same, concerned, yet clipped. “I’ve been utterly distraught.”
“I’m perfectly well,” she assured him and rolled her arm through his. “’Tis a lovely day. Let’s walk.”
“Were you wed, love? Did your father and the queen truly do it?”
She nodded. “Yes, I was wed.”
He paused and turned to her. “Did he…?”
She shook her head and rested it on his shoulder.
“Thank heavens.” He breathed out a heavy sigh and turned to kiss the top of her head. “I would have had to kill him.”
Just the thought of William and Adam fighting stilled Sina’s breath. William wouldn’t stand a chance against him. He would lose, but that wouldn’t stop him from trying. She knew William’s temper made it possible for him to do the unthinkable. She’d had to talk him out of killing three boys who killed his cat when he was thirteen.
“Don’t say such things,” she gently admonished. “I’m safe and home now.”
“Yes, and soon to be my wife.” He pulled her closer.
“I’m still married until the bishop says otherwise.” She pulled back. “My darling, everything has been so overwhelming. You’ll forgive me for wanting to slow things down a bit, won’t you?”
“Of course,” he said, sounding hurt and shielding his eyes beneath his long lashes. “I want you to know I did everything I could to see you set free.”
Yes, it was William who had told her father about Amelia’s abduction and about Claire…and the pirates. She should feel grateful that he’d gone to such lengths to see her returned. But what might it cost the MacGregors? Her father didn’t know them. He barely knew General Marlow. He’d always thought poorly of Highlanders, and thanks to William, his opinion was validated.
The MacGregors would most likely lose the king’s support in anything, thanks to her.
What could she do to fix it?
“How did you know I was with them?”
He smiled. “The queen.” He told her of his visit to Anne’s bedside before she died, and how she’d repeated the name MacGregor so many times that it convinced him she understood what she was saying—what he was asking. “Your father didn’t deny it when I brought it up.”
“You’re clever.” She patted his arm. He’d found a way to find her. “But how did you know she wasn’t speaking of General Marlow being with the MacGregors?”
“I didn’t,” he confessed. “I didn’t understand most of what she was saying. But she spoke about the MacGregors, her sister, and an abbey—or Abby, as in a person, I don’t know—”
Abby? Sina thought as they walked. Why would Anne call for Abigail on her deathbed? The laird had mentioned something about Abby visiting England. What was it? It had to be about Abby. It made more sense than an abbey. Where had she heard something about an abbey recently? Davina. Davina was raised in an abbey. Did it mean anything? What did it have to do with Anne’s deceased sister Mary?
“I think the three are interwoven,” he said. “I don’t know how, but I will find out.”
Was there something to find out? This felt dangerous deep down in Sina’s bones. She’d felt from the beginning that the MacGregors were hiding something from her, something about them and the queen. Whatever it was, they didn’t want it known. “No, William. Let it go, please. Let me put this behind me. Forget the MacGregors, as I have.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Adam dropped his head into his hands and raked his fingers through his hair.
A pair of weeks.
Sina had been gone for a pair of weeks now. Each day that passed was harder to bear than the one before it. He was weary from denying what was going on inside him. His ears ached to hear the sound of her again. His eyes longed to bask in the sight of her unguarded smile.
Ah, God help him, he was tired of thinking about her, questioning his decision to let her go, not going with her, allowing himself to be bound to her in the first place.
He looked out over Camlochlin and the vale from a deep crevice high atop Bla Bheinn, his feet dangling over the edge.
“I miss her, Goliath. I’m goin’ mad with it.”
His faithful hound rested at his side on the wide ledge. The only sign that he was awake was his wagging tail at the sound of Adam’s voice.
Adam liked the returning silence. He didn’t want advice. He knew what it would be. He’d refuse it and no doubt have the offer of chief stripped. What else could he do? He had to go get her. Whatever it brought to Camlochlin would be his fault.
So he had to make certain it brought only good things. He’d get her and keep his clan safe. He just didn’t know how yet.
His gaze roved over his home nestled in mountains and mist. Safe, peaceful, and quiet. He often came here to see it from this view when he needed to ponder things.
He realized several nights ago that it was familiar—pondering…alone in a high window, looking down on his home.
No matter where he went, or what he did, he couldn’t escape his past. But now, the things he’d been taught in the room of that high window had life. It was Sina who reminded him of who he’d been raised to be.
Adam found that Sina’s disdain for his name, his clan, and his character was something he’d never experienced before. Defending them sparked his pride in what they stood for. He liked how it felt. He liked spending time with everyone at the celebration, with people he was born to protect.
But the cost was high…it was too high. He wanted her back. He wanted to ride into Kensington Palace and kill anyone who got in his way. But he couldn’t do that.
There were days though, moments when he didn’t give a damn about any consequences.
Later, he made his way with Goliath back to his room for much-needed sleep.
The heather was gone, cleaned up weeks ago and thrown into the fire by Teresa. But the scent was still here, lingering like Sina’s smile—
“Adam.”
He looked at the back of his chair and his aunt Maggie’s head craning around it.
“Come sit. I wish to speak with ye.”
He did as she asked and sat on the edge of his bed. “I should ask ye what ye’re doin’ in my room in the middle of the night, but I’m too tired to care.”
She crinkled her nose at him in a display of affection or annoyance; he’d never been able to tell which. She, the smallest of all the MacGregors, the one most affected by the hatred of their enemies, was sometimes the hardest to read.
“I’ll get straight to it, then. What are ye going to do about yer wife? You’ve been moping around here fer weeks, going off on yer own often. What are ye planning to do?”
Was he that transparent that she could tell he was planning something? Why couldn’t he control his damned emotions? Worse, he couldn’t even mask them! He’d never found it difficult to hide his feelings in the past. He didn’t hide them to be deceitful but to spare the feelings of others—his father’s when it came to his firstborn son not wanting to follow in his footsteps, those of the lasses he’d left behind, who wanted more from him than he wanted to give.
But now, he felt as if his skin were too tight to hold the strong passions building up within. His bones felt too heavy to move.
“Aunt Maggie, I—”
“Yer wife isna dead.”
“What?”
“When I lost my dear Jamie, I thought I would go mad with grief. Even the dungeon wasna as bad as losing him. I would have done anything to have him back, anything. But alas, there was nothing to be done but wait until I too leave this earth.” She leaned forward in his chair with a gleam in her eyes that promised she wasn’t leaving anytime soon. “But yer wife isna dead.”
“What are ye gettin’ at, Aunt Maggie?” he asked, patient with her. She tended to veer off.
“I understand what ye’re going through, my dearest nephew,” she told him gently. “I understand what’s been on yer mind.” She smiled as if he should know what she was talking about.
He did.
Why was she smiling?
“Ye must do it, Adam. Go get her.”
He laughed. “What? Ye’re the one who told me I must give her up—”
“I said she must go back to England. I also said ye should go with her and make friends with the king. Ye never let me finish the rest!”
He held up his hands in surrender when she bounded from his chair.
“Ye love the gel,” she said, satisfied that he was finally considering her words. “’Tis plain to see.”
He shook his head. He’d made his choices. If he looked hard enough, he was sure he’d find other paths he could have taken. He could have refused to marry her, not given a damn if she was forlorn and afraid. He could have abandoned the codes he’d been taught, refused to try to make her happy, ignored her vigor and vibrancy. But he hadn’t. He let her in, believing it was his duty to share his life with her.
He’d let her go without a fight because he didn’t know if he could win.
He shook his head, then rubbed his tired eyes. “What aboot the clan, Aunt Maggie? Are ye tellin’ me to ferget the consequences? Because I canna do it. I’ve thought aboot it. Och, believe me I have. But I need a plan.”
“Good.” She took him by the hand and gave him her widest smile. “Get some sleep, and tomorrow I’ll teach ye all about the Duke of Hamilton and how ye can sound more like a Lowlander.”
“Who?” he asked.
She waved over her shoulder as she went for the door. “Hopefully the man who will help ye get back Sina without a war.”
Sina closed her eyes and counted to ten while her friends Ladies Poppy Berkham and Eloise Warwick argued over who was more handsome, Lord Roderick Newton, Viscount of Nottingham, or Lord Henry Fitzsimmons, Viscount of Ipswich.
It was Sina’s fifteenth day home, the twenty-first day since she’d left Camlochlin, and her third ball. The first two were hosted by Poppy’s and Eloise’s families to celebrate their birthdays, which were four days apart.
Tonight’s grand ball was a celebration of her betrothal to William. They should be hearing from the bishop any day now about the annulment, but William didn’t want to wait to make the announcement.
Why should they? Her life with Adam was over.
None had been told of her marriage to a Highlander, or that she’d been sent to the Highlands. Residents of the palace were told that the queen had sent her off to visit friends. Only William and Poppy knew the truth.
Tables had been elegantly arranged throughout the vast hall for anyone who preferred dining over dancing. Large, ornately carved chairs were set in two rows, facing each other with the dance floor in the center. Master musicians played various instruments while stately lords and ladies moved with graceful precision to the latest dance. Everything was subdued, so unlike Camlochlin.
It was everything Sina had missed during her first few days with the MacGregors. Now, tired of smiling, exhausted from dancing, and unable to sit because the hoops in her gown were wider than some of the staircases, with her hair pinned up and stuffed tightly under a lace cap, she questioned what was so wonderful about it.
“Did you both see that?” Eloise perked up. “Lord Ipswich just smiled at me.”
“Oh no, I missed it?” Poppy asked, setting down her glass, then rolled her eyes at Sina.
“Stop it, Poppy,” Eloise huffed. “Can I help it if he prefers me over you?”
Poppy slashed her painted lips and slanted her glittering green eyes behind her fan. “I already turned him down yesterday.”
Eloise narrowed her eyes and tightened her lips. “But you think him handsome.”
“So? That doesn’t mean I want him in my bed.” Poppy’s smile faded when Eloise stormed away.
“I’ll have to coddle her for days now,” Poppy sighed, then snapped her fan shut and leaned in to speak close to Sina’s ear.
“Tell me, is your Adam as handsome as those two?” She pointed her fan at the viscounts.
Sina blushed and rounded on her. “You promised never to bring it up.”
“In public,” Poppy pointed out. “I’m whispering.”
“William will be here any minute.”
“But he isn’t here now. So, darling”—Poppy gave Sina’s sleeve a little tug—“is he? More handsome than those two?”
In the old library, Sina had told Poppy everything about Adam, and the MacGregors, and Camlochlin. She’d wept with her when she realized, after more than three weeks without a word from him or the MacGregors, that she’d been forgotten yet again.
She understood why he let her go, but still felt hurt and angry over it.
She closed her eyes now to see Adam’s face in her mind. “Yes. He is more handsome than ten viscounts.”
“Poor little bird.” Poppy took her hand and squeezed it. “What will you do?”
“There is nothing to be done. Even if Adam wanted me back, my father is dead-set against any alliance with the MacGregors.” Sina mourned and looked into her trusted friend’s eyes. “He let me go. I am letting him go, as well. ’Tis getting easier. I am betrothed again to William. He has been doting and wonderful, and he has even been trying to be more passionate since I mentioned it. Now, I do not wish to speak of Adam anymore.”
Her gaze swung to the entrance where William had just appeared, fashionably late. He entered the hall dressed in a wide-skirted coat of red with heels to match. A wide-brimmed hat above his periwig shadowed his steady gaze as he took in every face until he found hers.
When he reached her, he greeted Poppy before she ran off, then dipped his head to kiss Sina’s hand. She wished he wouldn’t wear that overly scented wig. Her nose tickled and she tried to swallow the sneeze threatening to erupt. It was coming. She had no kerchief or napkin to cover herself—bad enough she was sneezing in public. Her body involuntarily drew in a short breath.
She remembered the lace cap on her head. She reached up, tore it from her head at the last moment, and sneezed into it. William looked slightly amused and equally mortified.
In her effort to cover her sneeze, she’d torn away two pins, releasing a long curl down her temple. His gaze was fixed on it.
“You are beguiling, my dear,” he said softly and reached down to pick her hairpins off the floor. “But I would rather you beguile only me.” He handed her the pins and waited for her to make herself presentable again.
She didn’t.
He constantly did his best to reach some enormously high standard he wanted her to live by as well. She’d always been satisfied to do it to make him happy. She took her lessons with more seriousness until she knew every rule of etiquette. Every ridiculously useless rule. She was tired of following them all. “I was thinking of wearing my hair loose on occasion.”
He visibly paled but then managed a smile. “Whatever you want, my love.”
She smiled at his effort to please her. “You are a good man, William.”
“It means everything to me that you should think so, Sina. You saved me from myself and became my reason to never give up. I regret that I wasn’t here to save you from being bound to a barbarian.”
“What could you have done?” she asked on a breath. “’Twas the queen’s order. There was nothing to be done without risk of the noose.”
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“Yes,” he said, finally smiling. Sina liked seeing it. “You’re right, but it still plagues me. You know I would do anything, risk anything, for you.”
Whatever she had with Adam was over. She had to move on. Take what she was offered by the man she’d loved all her life.
His eyes blinked away from her for a moment. “If you will excuse me, my love, I need a word with my cousin Roderick. I will return to you shortly.”
“Of course,” she said, letting him go.
She looked around for Poppy. It was going to be a long night—since William had just now arrived.
She spotted her friends huddled in a corner with the Desmond twins, Lords Henry and Freddy. What would they say if they ever saw Braigh and Tam MacGregor? Or if Braigh and Tam ever saw Poppy? What if Adam ever saw her?
She waved the ladies over when she caught their attention. They disengaged immediately and hurried over on their heeled feet.
Her friends made it halfway to her when they stopped in their tracks, their wide eyes on the entrance.
Sina’s gaze followed. Her lips fell open and her heart threatened to leap from her mouth.
Adam.
Was it Adam? The massive hellhound at his side proved that it was.
He didn’t wear his plaid but a black coat with buttons from neck to hem. None of them were fastened. But then, he didn’t look like the kind of man who would be restrained by buttons. The coat’s deep cuffs were pushed back from his wrists to expose his frilled shirt falling over long fingers. Instead of hose and garters, he wore black breeches and high boots. Around his neck, a white cravat was elegantly knotted and tied. His raven-black hair was tied away from his face into a slick tail, secured at his nape with a black ribbon.
His beauty was otherworldly, elegant, and dark as he stepped forward with Goliath at his side.
Chapter Twenty-Four
He’d come.
Sina’s heart thundered in her ears. Could others hear it? Dear God, everything…everything she’d tried to forget, to deny, came washing over her like a wave.
