Beloved Stranger

by Patricia Potter

  Rory grinned. “Aye,” and he rode back to the Charltons.

  Lachlan turned to her. “I love you, and Audra. I captain a ship. If you are not happy in Scotland, we can go anywhere. We can even come back here if you wish.” He hesitated, then plunged on. “I have never known what being happy was—of belonging someplace—until I met you.”

  Lachlan paused, then said slowly, “There is something I should tell you first,” he said. “My family was cursed many years ago. A hundred years ago. One of my ancestors, another Lachlan, chained his wife—a Campbell—to a rock in the sea, hoping the tide would kill her. It did not. Some fishermen found her. But she died of a lung sickness, or a broken heart soon after. A curse was made by a Campbell: ‘No bride of a Maclean will live long or happily, and every Maclean will suffer for it.’”

  He paused. “And no wife did live long, and all Macleans did suffer,” he said. “Then Rory, who had lost two wives, fell in love with a Campbell and they wed.”

  “Felicia?” she said in a small voice.

  “Aye. The curse may not be broken. I cannot say. It is one reason I wanted to be a priest. I did not think I could ever take a bride. But I believe Rory and Felicia, in their marriage, broke that curse. I cannot be sure. Nor can I be sure whether I will hesitate when I am needed.”

  The story was heartbreaking. She realized the courage it must have taken for Rory’s Felicia to wed. Not only because of the curse but a hundred years of hatred. Could she be less?

  She held out her hand to him. “You have always been the brave one of the two of us, whether you realized it or not. You will now have to be brave enough for three.”

  “I love you, Kimbra. And Audra.”

  The words—spoken softly and lovingly—curled around in her heart.

  He leaned over and kissed her long and tenderly as shouts broke out among the Charltons.

  Then, together, they rejoined the Charltons.

  The Charlton grinned. “We will have the wedding at the tower, though I will sorely miss Kimbra’s potions, and her remedies.” He hesitated, then added, “I might invite my daughter and her barbarian of a husband.”

  Kimbra grinned at him. She was bubbling inside with joy. Then she turned to Lachlan with a question in her eyes.

  “Aye, love,” he said, then turned to the Charlton. “We accept with thanks.”

  She looked startled, then pleased, at the endearment.

  He planned to use it often.

  How odd that war had brought him peace. Enemies friends. And a future he’d never dared dream.

  He looked at Rory and thought he saw a tear there, but that was nonsense. Not Rory.

  Not when his own heart was singing. Looking at Kimbra’s face, he knew she had a song there as well.

  He reached out and took her hand. Home, he knew, would be wherever she and Audra were.

  He’d finally found it.

  Epilogue

  AUDRA bobbed with excitement.

  Kimbra knelt beside her. “You look beautiful. ” “I know,” Audra said with confidence. “I have never had such a pretty gown.”

  “’Tis not only the gown,” Kimbra said. “As Lachlan says, you are a very bonny lassie.”

  “He says it about you, too. ‘My two bonnie lassies,’ ” Audra chanted.

  “Aye,” Jane said. She had just finished braiding Kimbra’s hair and twisting it into a knot at the back of her head. Jane had been ecstatic at being asked to be in the wedding, to stand up with Kimbra.

  A knock came at the door of her tower room, and Felicia Maclean walked in.

  She wore a blue gown, the only one she had with her. But it brought out the blue of her eyes. To Kimbra’s surprise, they’d taken an immediate liking to each other. They’d sensed in each other similar spirits.

  There had not been the slightest censure of her, only a warm embrace when Felicia had appeared at the tower just hours after she had arrived with Lachlan. Apparently Felicia had arrived at the Armstrongs just after the kidnapping and had defied every Armstrong warning not to travel to the Charlton tower.

  Felicia heard Lachlan’s story with amazement and gratitude and told Kimbra she would always have a place in her home and heart for saving Lachlan. Then she gave her such an impulsive hug that Kimbra believed her.

  Kimbra had even confided her fears to Felicia. That sometime Lachlan would come to despise her.

  “Lachlan never judges,” Felicia replied. “At least no one but himself. He is the kindest, gentlest man I have ever met, and if not for Rory, I would try to take him from you. Not,” she added, “that it would be possible, not the way he looks at you. And he adores Audra. I hope you have more children. Mine would love to have cousins.”

  Felicia was like a boulder rolling down a mountain. Nothing could get in the way of what she wanted, or she rolled over it.

  Now her future sister-in-law eyed her with approval, then stepped back. “You and Audra are bonny,” she said. “Thank you for making Lachlan happy.” Felicia gave a brief hug. “Time to go.”

  The wedding was in the chapel. Kimbra wore a gown that had belonged to the Charlton’s wife. She and Jane had worked a day to make it fit. They had taken another dress and used the material for Audra’s gown. There had been no time for more.

  They wanted no invasion of English soldiers, and the wedding was to be small and quick. Under the circumstances the priest, not altogether happy with the situation but dependent on the Charlton for his living, waived the bans.

  A knock on the door. It was time to go. For a moment, Kimbra’s legs trembled. She still worried something might change Lachlan. He might realize her complete unsuitability for him. They had talked about where to go and decided first to Inverleith, then she and Audra would accompany him on the ship to Paris.

  If Audra liked shipboard life, he would continue to master a ship. If not, they would decide then where to go.

  But she could not really believe he did not want to return home to Inverleith.

  She went down the tower steps to the small chapel in the tower. The door was open. Audra went first, fairly dancing down the aisle. Felicia and Jane followed.

  She passed the Charlton who sat with his daugher, son-in-law, and their three children. He beamed at her.

  When Audra reached the altar she went to Lachlan and put her small hand in his. He leaned down and said something to her, which caused her to giggle.

  Then it was Kimbra’s turn.

  Lachlan was waiting for her. Rory and Jamie stood next to him. But she gave them only a passing glance. Her eyes went directly to the man who would be her husband. To the auburn hair and blue eyes, and straight body, and the smile that made her ache inside.

  He would love both of them. And any children they were blessed with.

  She reached the altar and put her hand in his, and unconditionally gave him her heart and accepted his. Warmth spread over her. Warmth and wonder that this man could be hers.

  Unafraid, she turned to the priest.

  In 1988, Patricia Potter won the Maggie Award and a Reviewer’s Choice Award from Romantic Times for her first novel. She has been named Storyteller of the Year by Romantic Times and has received the magazine’s Career Achievement Award for Western Historical Romance along with numerous Reviewer’s Choice nominations and awards.

  She has won three Maggie awards, is a four-time RITA finalist, and has been on the USA Today bestseller list. Her books have been alternate choices for the Doubleday Book Club.

  Prior to writing fiction, she was a newspaper reporter with the Atlanta Journal-Constitution and president of a public relations firm in Atlanta. She has served as president of Georgia Romance Writers and board member of River City Romance Writers, and is past president of Romance Writers of America.

 

 

 
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