Love Me Forever

by Johanna Lindsey

  “You think I didna try? It nearly killed her tae tell me nay, she couldna go wi’ me, she was married.”

  “Even knowing you’d both been tricked?”

  “Aye, her morals were too strongly ingrained. The deed was done. The vows were for better or worse. Though she loved me still, she’d no’ break those vows.”

  Kimberly slumped back against the sofa. She vaguely remembered a few things from her childhood now, that she had long since forgotten, her mother never staying in the room with her when her grandparents came to visit, or even speaking to them, and she hadn’t gone to their funeral when they’d died together in a carriage accident.

  “If it helps any, I don’t think she ever forgave her parents. I was too young at the time to even wonder why she never spoke to them when they visited.”

  He reached for her hand and squeezed it. “Nothing can help the tragedy of three misspent lives, hinny.”

  “No, I suppose not.” She sighed. “And she didn’t even tell you about me?”

  “’Twas so soon after—I dinna think she knew about you when we last spoke.”

  She blushed slightly. It was difficult to think of her mother making love with this man out of wedlock. Yet they had planned to marry, to live their lives together. That was more than she could say for herself and Lachlan. Yet she and Lachlan had ended up married, but the two who should have, would have, if not for the perfidy of others, didn’t.

  “I know you came home to the Highlands, but did you never go back?”

  “Nay, not once. I knew that if I ever saw her again, I’d be stealing her away against her wishes, and she’d be hating me for it. And if I ever saw Cecil again—well, murder was on my mind for many a year. So I drowned myself in whisky and women and—” He shrugged here. “You’ve met the results o’ my overindulgence.”

  He said that so casually, without a bit of embarrassment. Sixteen bastards he had, well, seventeen, counting her. And he was apparently doing right by them, raising the lot, because they all lived with him. Now, if she could discount the tale about them trying to kill each other for entertainment…

  She smiled. “Yes, you have some fine sons there.”

  “And no’ a single grandchild out o’ them as yet,” he mumbled.

  She almost choked. “Well, none of them are married yet, are they?”

  He raised a bushy brow at her, as if to say, “What has that to do with it?” and in his case, it certainly hadn’t been a necessity. She wondered if all his sons’ mothers were living with him as well, but she wasn’t about to ask.

  “I take it you would like some grandchildren?” she asked instead.

  “Aye, bairns are a pleasure tae have around at my age, but the lass I favor now, she’s barren. You wouldna be breeding yourself, would you?”

  Kimberly’s cheeks filled with heat. “No, I’ve only just married,” she said, which apparently had not much to do with it in her unusual family, of course, but thankfully, he didn’t point that out.

  “You’re happy wi’ the MacGregor, are you?”

  “He doesn’t love me, but we do very well together.”

  Now why had she admitted that? And he was frowning at her because of it, and wanting to know, “Then why did you marry him, lass?”

  A logical question, and her blush must have answered it for him, because he snorted. But fortunately, Lachlan entered the room at that moment…

  “So you dinna love my daughter, Lachlan MacGregor?” Ian demanded abruptly.

  Kimberly’s face went up in flames. She couldn’t believe Ian would actually say that, even if they had just been discussing it. And Lachlan had been smiling when he came in, but he certainly wasn’t now.

  “O’ course I do. Who says I dinna love her?”

  “She does.”

  Those light green eyes came to her and there was surprise in them, then disappointment. He sighed. And then he was bending to her and lifting her over his shoulder.

  Between her gasp and her father’s chuckle, Lachlan said, “You’ll be excusing us, Ian, but I’ve a few things tae be explaining tae your daughter, like the difference ’atween bedding a lass and making love tae her. Apparently, she doesna know there is a difference.”

  “You didn’t just say that to my father!” Kimberly wailed. “You didn’t.”

  Lachlan had carried her just one room away, into their bedroom, and dumped her on the bed there. He was now leaning over her and looking too serious by half, but Kimberly was still too embarrassed to care.

  “Och now, I heard the words myself. He did as well. Mayhap you’re the only one who didna hear me say it?”

  “But how could you?”

  “Your da is a lusty mon, Kimber. Proof is the time I’ve just spent scrounging sleeping space for his brood. Only you were embarrassed by what I said, and well you should be, because if you tell me you’ve never heard me say I love you, I’ll be blistering your—”

  “You haven’t. Not one single time, so I defy you to point out even once that you did.”

  “The day we arrived here I told Nessa, and I know you heard me say it. But that is beside the point. How could you no’ realize I love you, darlin’, when every time I look at you or touch you, and especially when I make love tae you, I’m telling you how much I love you?”

  Her mouth opened for another denial, but closed slowly as it sank in, exactly what he’d just said. At that moment, it didn’t matter a bit to her when or how he’d told her before, because he’d just told her now.

  “You love me?”

  He gave her an exasperated look for sounding so surprised. “You still want that blistering, do you?”

  She smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck. “No, but I’ll take some of that loving you were talking about, the kind that tells me things I’m apparently too dense to pay attention to.”

  He chuckled. “’Tis that English blood in you, no doubt. But lucky for me that I’m no’ as dense. I knew long ago that you’ll be loving me forever.”

  “Forever is an awfully long time, Lachlan. Could you settle for fifty years or so?”

  “Nay, darlin’, wi’ you, ’tis forever I’m wanting.”

  52

  “Good God, this is positively medieval. Will you look at that, Megan.”

  Megan peered out the coach window, then leaned back against her husband. “Looks like a castle to me, and what were you expecting, with a name like Castle Kregora?”

  “Just because a bloody name has castle in it, doesn’t necessarily mean—”

  “But usually does.”

  He glared down at her. “If I have to bathe in a wooden tub, I’m leaving.”

  She chuckled. “Will you stop complaining, please. I’ve been looking forward to this visit with Kimberly. You aren’t going to spoil it for me by looking disgruntled the whole time we’re here, are you?”

  “I might.”

  She lifted a brow at him. “Very well, be stubborn if you must. And I might just tell Lachlan that the matched breeding pair we’ve brought along for Melissa’s christening gift was your idea.”

  “Brat.”

  She gave him a really sweet smile. After a moment he laughed and leaned down to give her a brief kiss—well, that had been his intention. But as it happened, they were still kissing when the coach rolled to a stop before the castle doors. And just Devlin’s luck, it was Lachlan who got to the coach first to open it.

  “We’ve a nice drive along the loch if you’re no’ ready tae end your journey,” he offered with a chuckle.

  The Duke and Duchess of Wrothston broke apart, Megan blushing prettily, Devlin scowling. “Perhaps another time, MacGregor. Right now, we’ve a mind to see this relic you call home.”

  “Och now, I’ll be pleased tae give you a tour once you’re settled in. She’s been under extensive repairs this year and is eager tae be shown off.”

  At Megan’s curious frown, Devlin said helpfully, “I believe he’s talking about the castle, m’dear.”

  “Well of
course, I knew that. And you can tour all you like, it’s Kimberly and her daughter that I’m eager to see. Just point me in their direction, if you would, Lachlan.”

  “My ladies are holding court in the parlor just now, entertaining Kimber’s family. They’ve come tae visit again for the christening too.”

  “Cecil’s here?” Devlin exclaimed. “Good God, now I know I’m not staying long.”

  Megan jammed her elbow into his side, saying in exasperation, “I think he means the MacFearsons. I could have sworn I told you about them.”

  “Ah, quite right. Must have slipped my mind.”

  To which Lachlan laughed. “After you meet them, that will never happen again.”

  He wasn’t exaggerating, they were to find. The MacFearsons were a fascinating lot. And all contained in one room, not five minutes could pass that a few of them weren’t arguing about something and coming near to blows. But Kimberly had an amazing effect on her brothers. She merely had to catch their attention, and with a simple look, they would be blushing and quieting down.

  And they all doted on Kimberly’s baby, named after her mother. Kimberly had written to Megan, telling her something of that tragic story, and that this Melissa was going to have the happiness her grandmother had been denied. Megan had no doubt of that. The little darling had sixteen uncles. She was going to be positively spoiled.

  “I hate to say I told you so, but I did,” Megan whispered to Devlin, nodding toward Kimberly who was smiling at Lachlan. “Have you ever seen a more happy woman?”

  “Hmmm, possibly you?”

  Megan appeared thoughtful before she answered, “Yes, I do suppose I make an exception.”

  “Suppose?”

  “Well, I can’t have you thinking you can stop working at it. It requires a lot to keep me happy, you know.”

  “Does it indeed?” he growled by her ear.

  She grinned. “But you do manage, indeed you do.”

  “I told you it wouldn’t be so bad,” Kimberly said as she joined Lachlan in bed that night. “Admit it. You and Devlin actually enjoyed each other’s company today.”

  He pulled her to his side as he did every night, waiting for her head to settle on his shoulder. They usually spent time talking before going to sleep—or doing other things. It had become a nightly ritual they each savored.

  “I suppose he’s no’ such a bad sort, when he unbends a wee bit,” Lachlan allowed grudgingly.

  “Well, there must be something there to like, for Megan to love him so much.”

  Kimberly stiffened, wishing she hadn’t brought Megan up—but then again, she’d been meaning to broach the subject for a long time, she’d just never gotten around to it.

  “What?” Lachlan asked.

  She smiled. He was so sensitive to her moods. She rather liked that.

  “I was just wondering—I know you love me—”

  He drew her onto his chest for a hug. “Wi’ all my heart, darlin’.”

  “—but do you have any feelings left for the duchess?”

  He was quiet so long, she finally leaned up to look at him—and found him silently laughing. “You’re a silly lass sometimes, Kimber. You havena been worrying yourself wi’ that notion, have you?”

  “Well, no, actually, but I used to.”

  He shook his head. “Darlin’, even when I was telling the bonny Megan that I loved her, ’twas you I was thinking about, you that had already stolen my heart. She put it best herself. ’Twas no’ real, what I felt for her, when I didna even know her. And she was right. It wasna real, just an infatuation wi’ her beauty. But you, on the other hand, drive me tae distraction, I love you so much. Will you be admitting it now?”

  “What?”

  “That you’ll love me forever? I want more’n one lifetime wi’ you, darlin’. Forever may no’ even be long enough.”

  She smiled at his whimsy. “On one condition—”

  “Nay, unconditionally.”

  She stared at him for a long moment before she allowed, “Oh, very well, but—”

  “No buts, darlin’.”

  “But—you have to promise I’ll be able to find you in this forever of yours. If I had to live even one lifetime without you—”

  “Nay, never, Kimber,” he said emphatically. “You’ll always be by my side, and I by yours. And that’s the MacGregor telling you that.”

  She laughed. That, of course, meant she could believe it would be so.

  We are pleased to share Johanna Lindsey’s

  SAY YOU LOVE ME

  from Avon Books.

  It wasn’t such a bad place, this place that was going to witness her sale to the highest bidder. It was clean. Its decor was quite elegant. The parlor she had first been shown to could have belonged in the home of any one of her family’s friends. It was an expensive house in one of the better sections of London. It was politely referred to as a House of Eros. It was a place of sin.

  Kelsey Langton still couldn’t believe that she was there. Ever since she had walked in the door she had been sick to her stomach with fear and dread. Yet she had come here willingly. No one had carried her inside kicking and screaming.

  What was so incredible was she hadn’t been forced to come here, she had agreed to—at least she had agreed that it was the only option available. Her family needed money—and a lot of it—to keep them from being thrown into the streets.

  If only there had been more time to make plans. Even marriage to someone she didn’t know would have been preferable. But her Uncle Elliott was likely right. He had pointed out that no gentleman with the wherewithal to help would consider marriage in a matter of days, even if a special license could be obtained. Marriage was simply too permanent to be jumped into without careful consideration.

  But this…well, gentleman did frequently acquire new mistresses on the spur of the moment, knowing full well that those mistresses would be every bit as costly as a wife, if not more so. The great difference was that a mistress, though easy to acquire, could also be easily disposed of, without the lengthy legalities and subsequent scandal.

  She was to be someone’s mistress. Not a wife. Not that Kelsey knew any gentlemen personally she could have married, at least none who could afford to settle Uncle Elliott’s debts. She had had several young beaux courting her in Kettering, where she had grown up, before The Tragedy, but the only one with a large income had married some distant cousin.

  Everything had happened so swiftly. Last night she came down to the kitchen as she did each night before retiring, to heat a bit of milk to help her sleep. Sleep was something she’d had difficulty with ever since she and her sister Jean had come to live with their Aunt Elizabeth.

  Her insomnia had nothing to do with living in a new house and town, nor with Aunt Elizabeth. Her aunt was a dear woman, their mother’s only sister, and she loved both her nieces as if they were her own daughters, had welcomed them with open arms and all the sympathy they had desperately needed after The Tragedy. No, it was the nightmares that disturbed Kelsey’s sleep, and the vivid recollections, and the ever-recurring thought that she could have prevented The Tragedy.

  Aunt Elizabeth had suggested the warm milk all those months ago when she had finally noticed the dark smudges beneath Kelsey’s gray eyes and had gently prodded her for the reason. And the milk did help—most nights. It had become a nightly ritual, and she usually disturbed no one, the kitchen being empty that time of night. Except last night…

  Last night, Uncle Elliott had been there, sitting at one of the worktables, not with a late repast before him, but a single, rather large bottle of strong spirits. Kelsey had never seen him drink more than the one glass of wine Aunt Elizabeth allowed with dinner.

  Elizabeth frowned on drinking, and so naturally didn’t keep strong spirits in her house. But wherever Elliott had obtained that bottle, he was more than halfway finished. And the effect it had had on him was quite appalling. He was crying. Quiet, silent sobs, with his head in his raised hands, tears dripping d
own onto the table, and his shoulders shaking pitifully. Kelsey had thought it was no wonder Elizabeth didn’t want strong drink in her house…

  But it wasn’t the drink that was causing Elliott such distress, as she was to discover. No, he’d been sitting there, with his back to the door, assuming he wouldn’t be disturbed while he contemplated killing himself.

  Kelsey had wondered several times since if he would have had the courage to actually go through with it if she had quietly left. He’d never struck her as being an overly brave man, just a gregarious, usually jovial one. And it was her presence, after all, that had presented him with a solution to his troubles, one that he might not have considered otherwise, one that she certainly would never have thought of.

  And all she’d done was ask him, “Uncle Elliott, what’s wrong?”

  He’d swung around to see her standing behind him in her high-necked nightgown and robe, carrying the lamp she always brought downstairs with her. For a moment he’d appeared shocked. But then his head dropped back into his hands and he’d mumbled something she couldn’t quite make out, so she’d had to ask him to repeat himself.

  He’d raised his head enough to say, “Go away, Kelsey, you shouldn’t see me like this.”

  “It’s all right, really,” she’d told him gently. “But perhaps I should fetch Aunt Elizabeth?”

  “No!” had come out with enough force to make her start, then more calmly, if still quite agitated, he added, “She doesn’t approve of my drinking…and…and she doesn’t know.”

  “Doesn’t know that you drink?”

  He didn’t answer immediately, but she had already assumed that was what he meant. The family had always known that he would go to extremes to keep Elizabeth from unpleasantness, apparently even that of his own making.

  Elliott was a large man with blunt features and hair that had gone mostly gray now that he was approaching fifty. He’d never been very handsome, even when he was younger, but Elizabeth, the prettier of the two sisters, and still beautiful today at forty-two, had married him anyway. As far as Kelsey knew she loved him still.