A Scottish Lord for Christmas

by Lauren Smith

  “I know, laddie.” The gamekeeper’s soft reply was laced with worry. “Keep walking, I’ll help ye.”

  Quinn closed his eyes every time they tried to get past rocky outcrops that required climbing and using his bad shoulder. Each fresh twinge of pain increased that dark haze around the edge of his vision.

  “Douglas, you must…distract me. I need to think on something besides the pain.”

  The gamekeeper huffed as he stepped over a boulder in their descent.

  “What about your bride, milord? Surely you want to get home to see her?”

  Rowena. The name broke through the darkness like a shaft of sunlight. The dagger and the note still pressed against his heart.

  There is a woman who loves me, a woman who wants to heal my broken heart.

  Pain surged back into his awareness and he nearly doubled over.

  Quinn lifted his head slowly and stared across the vast mountains below them. For an instant he thought he saw…No, it can’t be. Maura was dead. Yet he’d sworn he saw her figure running down the distant path, her red-gold hair wild and loose in the wind.

  “Follow me home.” The words were an echo of a distant memory, like the invisible vapors of a fading dream as he woke up, like a thing half remembered yet so familiar.

  Quinn’s eyes burned and he blinked rapidly.

  The sound of Rowena singing, the husky voice of an angel, filled his heart as though Maura’s memory had sought him out, showing him the way…the way home.

  It flooded the crimson twilight like the close of an Angel’s Psalm,

  And it lay on my fever’d spirit with a touch of infinite calm.

  It quieted pain and sorrow like love overcoming strife…

  I have been a fool. A bloody fool.

  It was an injustice to Maura’s memory to think she would be erased by his love for another woman. She would not have wanted him suffering a broken heart. She would have wanted him to be happy, to find a woman who loved him and who loved Blair. And that woman was at his home, brokenhearted for loving him, a man with a stone heart. But his heart wasn’t stone anymore. It felt too soft, wounded and bleeding all over again. Yet he embraced the pain for the first time in a year because the pain meant he was alive. The real ghost in his life was never Maura; it was him.

  I want to live again. I’m tired of the past, tired of the pain.

  Rowena was his salvation. He’d thought he wasn’t able to love, was too afraid to love, but the truth was…he’d been falling in love with her since the moment she’d rescued Blair at the fountain. He’d simply been too blind to see the truth staring him right in the face.

  I must find my way home to Rowena.

  Chapter 12

  Rowena stared at the cold bowl of soup and sighed.

  “Kenna, he’s still not back…” She glanced at Quinn’s sister, who sat across from her at the lonely length of the dining room table.

  “I’m sure he’s all right. Douglas is with him. They’ve been deer stalking together since Quinn was seventeen.” Despite her reassuring words, Kenna’s face was tight with worry.

  “Twelve hours…” Rowena had counted the seconds since luncheon had come and gone. Now dinner was well past, but the servants hadn’t removed her food, not when she continued to stare at it numbly. She’d spent much of the day with Blair, relieved to see Dr. McIntosh was right and that she was indeed feeling better.

  “Why don’t you go up to bed,” Kenna suggested. “He’ll come home after you’ve fallen asleep.” Kenna stood up and waved an anxious footman to clear away the dishes.

  “It’s too late. We should go look for them.” Rowena glanced at the tall clock in the corner of the dining room. Something twisted in her stomach and dread gripped her heart in its icy claws.

  “We could send a few men.” Quinn’s sister finally agreed.

  Rowena was on her feet and waving to a footman. “Please have Mr. Morris meet Kenna and me by the door. I’ll need a heavy coat and mittens. Oh, and a scarf.”

  “Rowena, you can’t go out. You’re not used to the winters this far north.” Kenna gently took her by the arm but Rowena pulled away.

  “I have to go.” How could she explain it to the other woman? Something in her bones was telling her she had to find Quinn and bring him home. She had to swallow down the fear and anxiety that something terrible might have happened. He’s going to be fine. I will find him and bring him home.

  Kenna followed her out to the main hall where Morris, five footmen, and two grooms were all pulling on coats and gloves.

  “My lady, you’d best stay here,” Mr. Morris said, his voice gruff, the scowl on his face disapproving.

  Staring at him, fury and fear collided inside of her. This man had no right to order her about. She was the Countess of Forres. It was up to her to make decisions.

  “Mr. Morris, you will remember to whom you are speaking. My husband is out there somewhere and he needs me. I am going.”

  A commotion at the top of the stairs prevented them from arguing further. The nurse was carrying a crying Blair in her arms. The little girl’s eyes were red and puffy and her cheeks were splotched with color.

  “Blair, what’s the matter?” Rowena and Kenna met the nurse at the bottom of the stairs.

  “She’s had a wee bad dream. She wants to see her papa. Where is the master?” The old nurse glanced around and then frowned at the sight of the men grouped in the entryway, all dressed in their outer gear.

  “Where’s Papa?” Blair sniffed and a fat tear rolled down the tip of her little nose.

  “Papa is out hunting.” Rowena took Blair from the nurse and cradled her against her chest.

  “Bad dreams…,” Blair whispered. “Have bad ones. Do you get them?” she asked with such a desperate yet sweet earnestness that it broke Rowena’s heart.

  “I do sometimes. But they are only dreams. You will be safe now that you’re awake. But don’t be frightened. Aunt Kenna is here. She’ll sing you to sleep.”

  The babe’s eyes widened. “You’re leaving, Mama?”

  The hall grew deathly silent as the word Blair had uttered sank in.

  Mama.

  Rowena’s heart grew even more inside her chest, strengthened by that single word. I am her mother and I will bring her father home safe. With every servant watching her with sharp gazes, Rowena kissed Blair’s forehead. The soft scent of Blair’s skin made her want to stay there and cradle the child to her, but she had to leave. Quinn needed her.

  “I must go for a short while, sweetheart. Someone must bring your papa home.” The words came out of her throat raw. She didn’t want to leave Blair behind, not after being called Mama, but she had to find Quinn.

  “Take care of her, Kenna.” Rowena hugged Blair and handed her over; then she grabbed her coat from a footman and pulled it on.

  Morris opened his mouth but she cut him off.

  “You’ve no right to tell me I cannot go out and rescue the man I love. If you try, I’ll send you packing.” She shot him a steely gaze and the older butler nodded in grudging respect.

  “Very well, my lady, but I will insist on going with you.”

  The grooms had ponies ready and Rowena mounted hers quickly. The search party headed north to the low-lying hills, searching for any signs of Quinn as darkness consumed the light inch by inch. The ponies plunged through the heavy snow, trekking farther and farther north.

  “We’re nearly to the mountains.” Morris approached her side, a red scarf covering his face and muffling his voice a little.

  Rowena squinted at the thinning trees and the steep, rocky path half a mile ahead.

  “We have to leave the horses and walk the rest of the way,” Morris added, and to Rowena’s surprise, he aided her in dismounting.

  The clouds overhead began to unleash a wave of fresh snow and the search party had to fight and claw their way to the base of the hills. The wind was bitter and piercing, knifing through her gloves to slash at her hands and suck away any bit of heat he
r body still possessed.

  Quinn, where are you? She squinted through the darkness and the heavy snow, but had to close her eyes. She stopped moving, her body shaking violently as the cold moved through her body. A woman’s face suddenly flashed in her mind. Eyes bright and her lips parted as she drew in a quick breath; then her face was gone, but a faint whisper barely audible above the winds teased Rowena’s ears.

  “Follow me.”

  Rowena jolted awake from the strange trance and glanced around. She could not see any of the others from the search party. She was alone. Oh God, she was going to freeze to death out here…

  A veil of snow parted ahead and a feminine figure appeared. A woman in a cloak, with a solemn gaze. Staring in shock, Rowena couldn’t move or speak. There couldn’t be a woman out here in the snow; she was the only female who’d gone out with the search party.

  “Rowena…” The woman’s voice drew her name out soft and sorrowful like a plaintive call of a nightingale. “Follow me.”

  Rowena moved, step by painful step, toward the figure ahead. She wasn’t sure how long she trudged through the snow. Minutes, hours, it all blurred together.

  “Wait…,” she croaked as the figure began to fade into the night.

  “Help!” A throaty voice broke through the gloom as the snowfall lessened.

  “Here!” Rowena cried as she spied a huddled mass twenty feet ahead at the base of a tree. When she reached the tree, she collapsed to her knees and came face-to-face with Douglas the gamekeeper. He had his arms wrapped around Quinn’s limp form.

  “What happened?” Rowena asked as she started to lift Quinn by one arm but Douglas shouted.

  “No! He’s got a dislocated shoulder. Lift him by the waist.” Douglas threw Quinn’s good arm over his shoulder and Rowena gripped her husband’s waist.

  “Come on, laddie. Wake up,” Douglas growled, and jostled Quinn roughly.

  “Douglas?” Quinn’s voice was low and drowsy as his head lifted. “Are we home yet?”

  Rowena gripped him tighter, hugging him close. “I’m here,” she told him.

  His dazed gaze fell upon her and he smiled through obvious pain.

  “My bold, brave lass.” He tried to kiss her but he didn’t have enough mobility.

  “Hold that thought, laddie,” Douglas snapped. “You can woo your wife when we’re safely home.”

  The three of them hobbled through the snow but their passage was easier as the snowfall stopped and the clouds parted, revealing a nearly full moon. The only shadows around were rocks and trees as they walked back down the hills. Rowena tried not to think about how isolated they were. Will we ever find our way home?

  The wind carried an eerie whine that soon turned into a recognizable shout.

  “My lady?” Morris’s voice boomed out in the distance. “Where are you?”

  “Morris!” Douglas bellowed. “She’s here!”

  Distant shadows moved closer until the search party was surrounding them. Rowena came face-to-face with the butler, and when he saw her holding up Quinn, a flash of shock and relief, then deep, honest respect glowed in his gaze.

  “You found him,” Morris exhaled. “We lost you in the storm but found their garrons by a copse of trees. We got turned around and we would not have found Douglas or his lordship, but you did…”

  The thought went unfinished but Rowena understood. If she hadn’t found Quinn and Douglas, no one would have and they may not have survived the night.

  Morris took Rowena’s place, holding Quinn’s waist as they walked back to the ponies. It took a lot of work but Rowena helped Quinn onto a horse behind Morris and they were able to strap him to the butler using a belt from one of the grooms.

  It took two hours to reach the house and Kenna was the first to rush out to meet them. She caught sight of Quinn’s ashen face and had a groom ride to the village for the doctor.

  Quinn was taken upstairs to his chamber and stripped out of his soaked hunting clothes and put to bed with a roaring fire close by. Morris and Mrs. Stuart marshaled the servants into their chores while everyone waited for the doctor to arrive.

  Rowena stood by the bed, leaning against one post and watching Quinn sleep.

  “My lady,” Douglas whispered as he joined her. “It’s my fault we had an accident whilst hunting. I lost my footing and fell. His lordship saved me.”

  She heard the catch in the gamekeeper’s tone but she could not look away from Quinn’s face to see him.

  “Douglas, can you see if Blair is still awake? If she is, bring her here. If she’s sleeping, let her sleep.”

  “Of course, my lady.” Douglas bowed and exited the chamber.

  Rowena left the bedpost and walked over to sit on the edge of the bed closest to Quinn. Dark hair fell across his forehead and she brushed it back.

  “I found you,” she whispered. The long dark lashes on his cheek, which she’d been counting as he slept, fluttered and his pain-filled gaze settled on her.

  “Rowena.” Her name came out soft, each syllable uttered gently as though he took care in speaking her name. He lifted one hand.

  “You need to sleep.” She placed her fingers in his and he gripped them with surprising strength.

  “I’ve been a fool.” He uttered the words harshly, his eyes darkening as he struggled to continue. “I believed I was not ready, not in my heart. But from the moment I saw you save my child, I knew I would love you. How could I not? Beautiful, intelligent, and compassionate? I did not think fate would be so kind as to give you to me, but here you are.” A smile curved his lips. “I only wonder if I’ll ever be able to earn your forgiveness.”

  Tears coated Rowena’s eyelashes as she pressed his hand to her cheek and fought off the urge to cry.

  “There’s nothing to forgive. You love her still and I understand. Not all hearts can be mended. All I ask is that you let me love you, let me be with you.”

  Quinn shook his head. “No, you don’t understand—”

  The bedchamber door opened and Dr. McIntosh entered, followed by Kenna. He stroked his mustache and shook his head.

  “My lord, I heard you’ve put your shoulder out. Three visits in as many days, perhaps I ought to move my clinic to the castle.” The doctor set his black leather medical bag at the foot of the bed and nodded to Rowena in greeting. “My lady.”

  “I’m afraid we seem to be quite helpless without you, Dr. McIntosh.” Quinn’s wry chuckle turned into a moan as the doctor helped him to sit up. Rowena watched in fascination as the doctor lifted Quinn’s injured arm and with a series of slow gentle motions, he worked the shoulder back into place. Rowena held Quinn’s other hand and kept her eyes locked with his.

  “Ahh…” Quinn hissed, then his features softened and he released a slow breath.

  “Better?” McIntosh asked.

  “Much,” Quinn replied, a little breathless, but the pain in his expression was quickly fading.

  “Good.” The doctor used a strip of white cloth to make a sling and gave Quinn a tiny bit of morphine for the pain that would help him sleep.

  “Thank you, Ian,” Kenna murmured, blushing as she took the doctor’s arm. “’Tis late. Why don’t I get some tea and biscuits and have a room readied for you?”

  The doctor smiled sheepishly at Kenna. “Er…yes, that would be wonderful.” He leaned a little closer to Kenna, smiling.

  Rowena watched them go and Douglas reappeared. “The wee bairn is asleep.”

  “Thank you, Douglas. I’ll tell her about her papa in the morning.” Rowena closed the door behind him and sagged against the wood.

  “Is Blair all right? When I left this morning, McIntosh said she was fine. I wouldn’t have left if she’d been…” Quinn’s face was strained with fear and pain.

  “She is fine,” Rowena assured him. “She merely had a bad dream and was wishing you were here.”

  “I’m sorry I left,” he whispered. “I shouldnae have left you, either of you.” His brogue thickened as the morphine he�
�d been given began to take hold. Soon he would be resting and she could warm up. His eyelids closed and he exhaled deeply as he sank into sleep.

  She was still in her soaked clothes and the tingling in her limbs was settling in. She glanced at Quinn, now sleeping on the bed. Surely he would not mind if she used his bath in the adjoining room. She tugged on the bell cord and Gwen appeared.

  “Mr. Morris thought you might need me, my lady. I was preparing a bowl of hot beef stew and some fresh bread.”

  “That would be wonderful. But first, could you draw me a bath and help me undress?”

  “Of course.” The maid helped her strip out of her wet clothes after a hot bath was ready.

  Rowena sank into the deep tub of hot water, relieved at the way her bones stopped trembling with such force that her teeth had been rattling in her skull. The night’s memories came rushing back to her. How she’d struggled through the cold and dark, her heart starting to die with Quinn. Wanting to save him even when she knew he’d never love her…Then she’d heard it. That ethereal voice through the veil of snow. And she’d seen that figure beckoning to her.

  A ghost? A phantom leading her to Quinn so she might save him? Her skin was covered with goose bumps and she rubbed her arms. Whatever it had been, it had helped her find him and bring him home.

  She sank below the water, running her hands through the silken strands of her hair before coming back up for air.

  “Wife, I have more I need to say.” Quinn’s rough, low voice echoed through the bathroom and startled Rowena. He was leaning in the doorway, resting against his good shoulder, his lips curved in gentle amusement. Her heart leapt inside her.

  “I thought you were asleep. The morphine…”

  Quinn barked out a laugh. “You’ve got a lot to learn about a Scotsman. A wee bit of that won’t keep me down for long.” He adjusted the sling on his arm and walked over to her, a lazy grin spreading on his face.

  “What are you doing? You should stay in bed and rest.” She sank deeper into the tub, a little shy after what had last happened between them and how exposed she still felt after having given him her heart and not being loved back. She needed time to adjust to living with him and not being loved by him. Being close to him like this would not help her heal her broken heart.