Her Highland Destiny

by Leanne Burroughs

  “When I was little. Why did you hate me?” Although intending to reveal no emotion, Duncan’s voice cracked.

  “Och, son, I never hated ye.”

  “Then why did you send me away?” He raised his hand when MacThomaidh opened his mouth to answer. “I do not wish to hear fostering is normal. I know that. But other families keep in touch with their children. Why did you not visit me?”

  “I...”

  Duncan’s lips thinned when his father didn’t continue. He finally said, “So, even you cannot think of an acceptable reason.”

  “I left ye with a good chief. Believed he would teach ye everything ye needed to learn to grow into a fine man, mayhap become a knight.”

  Duncan choked. “That good chief hated me. Why? What did I do that made everybody hate me?”

  “Duncan, what do ye speak of? Of course Kerr dinnae hate ye. He promised he would train ye well. He—”

  “He trained me all right.” Duncan’s hands clenched in his lap to keep from trembling. “Trained me to hide from him whenever I made a mistake, because if he found me he would beat me. Trained me to eat whatever I got the chance, because I never knew when he would punish me by taking away my food. Trained me to—”

  “Cease!” MacThomaidh shouted. “What nonsense do ye spout? Kerr would never treat anyone like that, let alone a child in his care.”

  “He did.” Duncan rose and paced the room. “It mattered not what I did wrong. If I did not learn fast enough to please him or if I dropped something, anything, he would punish me. Beat me.”

  “I dinnae believe ye. Kerr is an honorable man, would never—”

  Duncan tore off his plaide and pulled his shirt over his head. “Think you I gave these to myself?”

  MacThomaidh gasped. “What happened?”

  “I told you. Kerr beat me on a regular basis. Had Laird Drummond not arrived and taken me to Drummond Castle, I probably would have been dead within the moon’s passing.”

  Duncan watched his father age before his eyes, slump even more in the bed.

  “So that is what happened. I always wondered.”

  “Wondered what?”

  “How ye wound up at Drummond Castle and why Drummond forbade me to see ye.”

  Duncan’s brows furrowed.

  “I received a missive from him informing me ye lived at his home. Said he planned to raise ye as his own and threatened my life if ever I came to Drummond lands to see ye. I wrote and told him that was nonsense, but he answered immediately. Said that would be his last correspondence with me. He called me every name imaginable and reiterated his men had been informed to kill me on sight.”

  A fit of coughing overtook him. Blood stained the cloth after he wiped his mouth.

  “I realized then something had happened, but never learned what. I convinced myself ye were better off without me, probably wanted me nowhere around, so I stayed away.”

  “How convenient,” Duncan muttered.

  “Ye needs must know why I sent ye away.”

  “I know why. You did not want me. I was a mistake in your life and you wished to rid yourself of me.” He fisted his hands in his plaide to keep them from trembling.

  MacThomaidh swore. “Nay, son. Ye werenae a mistake. Ye were one o’ the few true blessings in my life. The day ye were born was one o’ the proudest o’ my life.”

  Duncan could stand it no longer. Tears welling in his eyes, he broke. “Then why?” he choked out.

  “Because I thought myself a failure.” MacThomaidh mirrored his son’s former movement and raised his hand to forestall him speaking.

  “I am clan Chieftain, Duncan. Our people look up to me—as they will ye one day. I helped them, worked beside them, provided fer them. I did everything they needed, but I couldnae help my own son. Every time ye had difficulty breathing I feared ye would die. I felt a failure. Nay, I was a failure. A failure as a man and a father. I thought I needed to be invincible. Needed to do anything to prove I was a good chief. After all, our clansmen needed my support. How could I expect them to trust me when I couldnae do the most important thing in my life? Care for ye—find someone to heal ye.”

  MacThomaidh placed a hand to his chest. Breathing irregularly, he continued, “Pride reared its ugly head. I had to keep our people’s respect. Our clan wouldnae prosper without that. I thought if I removed the one thing I was a failure at, I would keep their respect. And I did—I thought. In the long run everyone but me realized I had done the wrong thing. Took the coward’s way out. Did just the opposite o’ what I tried to do.”

  Duncan stopped pacing, again sat beside the bed. His tone incredulous, he said, “You could not heal me so you sent me to die somewhere conveniently out of sight.”

  MacThomaidh roared. “Merciful God in Heaven, son, I loved ye more than life itself. I wanted ye well, but no matter what we tried, naught helped. Ye coughed and had difficulty breathing. I feared ye’d have a spell and stop breathing fer good. I couldnae face that. Couldnae face what yer death would do to yer mam. I dinnae send ye to die. I sent ye to live! Kerr’s wife was a great healer. I hoped in time she might be able to heal ye.”

  Duncan stared, dumbfounded. “You loved me?”

  MacThomaidh nodded. “O’ course. I loved ye then. I love…yeu now. I—”

  Words barely came. “Why did...you not tell me?” Duncan sobbed, now on his knees beside the bed.

  “Ye wouldnae have believed.”

  “I...I...” Tears flowed down Duncan’s cheeks unchecked. “All I ever wanted was your love. I needed...”

  Rising, he faced his father. When the old man raised his arms to him, Duncan threw his large body upon the bed and let his father enfold him in his arms as though still a child. He wept for all the years they’d wasted.

  ~ * ~

  Two days later, The MacThomaidh passed through the gates of Heaven.

  While Tamara and the MacThomas clanspeople mourned, Duncan tried to come to grips with his feelings. Though awkward admitting it, he felt an overwhelming sense of loss and sadness. He and his father could have had so many years together, could have built memories. Instead he had nothing but a feeling of emptiness, regret.

  He and his father had made their peace, but too many years had been frittered away. Why hadn’t they spoken before? If not for his Catherine, they’d not have done so now. He never would have learned the truth. Now they’d have no more time together. He had no happy recollections to fall back on as did Tamara.

  Moving to the castle proved difficult. He and Cat spent the past nights in an empty room. His people removed everything from his father’s solar and thoroughly cleaned the room, but he couldn’t move in. The time would come when he’d be able to do so, but not yet.

  Duncan looked up and saw Catherine was finally back in the Great Hall. Smiling tiredly, she walked toward him, raising her hand to her brow to wipe away a sheen of perspiration. The lass had tired herself trying to comfort their people.

  Only a few steps away, she slumped to the ground.

  Duncan was beside her in a heartbeat, kneeling and patting her face with his hands. “Cat, wake up, my love.” His eyes shot to Tory who’d entered the Hall with Catherine. “What is wrong with her? This is the second time in a sennight she fainted.”

  Tory knelt beside Cat just as her eyes fluttered opened. “Naught is wrong a bit of rest and a few moon’s passings will not take care of.”

  Duncan frowned at the odd words and placed his arms around Catherine, helping her to sit.

  “Do not blether in riddles, woman. What is wrong with my wife?”

  Tory’s eyes danced to her husband’s. When his eyes widened in understanding, she turned back to face Cat and Duncan. With a smile on her face and love radiating from her eyes, she reached out to hold their hands.

  “You are going to be a father. Cat is with child.”

  Laird and Lady MacThomas sat speechless. Finally Cat and Duncan spoke simultaneously, “But that is impossible. The physician said...” and “But C
at cannot...”

  “The physician said he did not believe you could bear a child again. I am pleased to tell you he was wrong.” She smiled into the eyes of her startled friends and started to laugh. “I never thought to see you without a swift comeback, Catherine MacThomas. Are you really at a loss for words?”

  Raising Catherine to her feet, Duncan looked into her eyes. No longer aware of anyone else in the room, he drew her close, lowered his mouth to hers and held her tightly. When he released her mouth, he twirled her around in circles.

  Behind him, Grant said, “That may not be the best thing to do to a woman who just fainted.”

  “Och, you are really irritating when you are right,” he shot at his friend. Ignoring him, he swung Catherine around again, then hugged her to his chest and kissed her.

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Catherine remembered the moment they found out she carried a child. Duncan had thrown his head back and shouted, “I am going to have a son.”

  Tears of joy had spilled down her face. “Duncan, Tory said we are having a babe. She did not say ‘twould be a son.”

  A broad smile split his face and he placed his hand gently on her stomach. “She does not have to tell me. ‘Tis a son.” He turned to look for Meghan. “Meggie, love, you are going to have a braw wee brother.”

  Now, a fortnight later, she sat busy with her sewing, placing perfect, delicate stitches on a collar she’d been working on for Meghan. The young girl stood beside her, watching her ply the needle in and out of the cloth, a frown on her face.

  “What has you upset, Sweetling?”

  Meghan bit her lip, but didn’t speak.

  Catherine placed her sewing in her lap, giving her full attention to the young girl. “Meggie, is something wrong?”

  “Nay.”

  “Something upsets you. I see it on your face.”

  Reluctantly, Meghan nodded.

  “Can you tell me what it is? I cannot help solve the problem if I know not what it is.” Catherine caressed Meghan’s cheek.

  “I want the bairnie to be a girl and not a boy,” Meghan said so softly Catherine had to lean forward to hear her.

  Catherine had been afraid of this. Duncan was so excited at the prospect of having a son, she feared Meggie might be jealous.

  “Your da will not love you any less,” Catherine assured her. “You shall always be the pride and joy of his life.”

  Meghan’s eyes held a question.

  “That is what bothers you, isn’t it?”

  Meggie shook her head.

  “Then what has you so upset?”

  Meghan scrunched her face up, clearly searching for words. She finally blurted, “I want the bairnie to be a lassie and not a laddie so I can be a big sister and not a big brother.”

  Catherine couldn’t stop herself. She burst out laughing. She rushed to assure her, “Sweeting, I promise your da shall make quite certain you are always a sister, whether it be a laddie or a lassie.”

  When Meghan looked appeased, Catherine went back to teaching her a few stitches, chuckling all the while.

  She couldn’t wait to tell Duncan.

  ~ * ~

  Nearing Catherine’s woman’s confinement, Duncan was in the midst of an argument with Angus. He shouted, “Why did you not tell me?”

  Patiently Angus looked his Chief in the eyes. “You were not here—and at the time stubbornly vowed not to care.”

  “You told me the woman cleaned my home. You could not tell me she fainted when she carried my child?” Glaring at his friend, he stormed into the keep. Now he finds out his wife had fainted when carrying their daughter? Mayhap he should chain her to their bed so she couldn’t get in any trouble.

  Catherine was distracted by Tory and Grant’s arrival, children in tow. She looked at her guests, aghast. “Forgive him. He seems to be—”

  “Upset,” Tory finished. She carried her new son, Andrew, in her arms. She cast a glance at Catherine’s belly. “Good, you haven’t had the babe yet. I assume from the discussion we just witnessed you must have fainted again.”

  Catherine nodded.

  “I have tried to visit for over a sennight now, but things kept requiring Grant’s attention. I finally told him if he didn’t leave immediately, the children and I would come ourselves.”

  Trying to regain his good mood, Duncan turned and slapped his old friend on the back when Catherine escorted everyone inside the Great Hall. “So, you still do not trust her out of your sight?” She’d been Grant’s prisoner when first they met, his men constantly watching her. She’d hated that and rebelled. He knew she still felt closed in if followed too closely. Duncan knew his friend only did it now for her safety, just as he did with Catherine.

  “Not for a moment,” Grant agreed. “The woman gets into too much trouble.”

  Tory rolled her eyes.

  Once everyone settled into their rooms, Catherine showed Tory around the castle.

  “Isn’t it amazing?”

  Tory nodded just as tiny Andrew wailed. “’Tis time for him to suckle.”

  “Let me take you to your room so you can get comfortable.” Catherine led her toward the staircase.

  ~ * ~

  Deciding the weather was too nice to stay inside several days later, Catherine and Tory walked outside the gate. Catherine waved up at the guard on the tower. She raised her basket so he’d know she was out gathering herbs.

  Linking arms, the two women strolled along. The sun shone and a soft breeze whispered through the trees. Walking slowly, they chatted amiably, taking in the splendor of the sun-kissed mountains.

  Busy pointing out local herbs, Catherine said, “There is a little patch of herbs on the other side of that copse of trees, but we have already come too far. Should we take a quick look or turn around?”

  Tory assessed the area. “It should not take long to go there and head right back to the castle. I shall gather a few herbs to take home with me and then we can return. I do not think our guard will mind too much.” She bent, but grabbed her back and stood up.

  “Are you with child again?”

  Tory threw back her head and laughed. “Nay, not yet. My back just hurts from time to time. Probably from wee Andrew kicking me all the time before he was born. What about you? Would you like more?”

  “Oh, aye.” Catherine spoke earnestly. “But I do not believe that will happen. I thank you for the herbs you made me drink, although I never tasted anything so nasty.”

  Tory watched her expectantly. “Too horrible to take now you know what it was for?”

  Catherine’s eyes widened with hope. “You think it might help again? Oh, if I thought there was a chance I might bear Duncan another child, I would drink that horrid taste the rest of my life.” Her eyes twinkled. “How long must I wait before I can try it again?”

  “Naught in the herbs will harm a babe, but you should probably wait six moons.”

  A thought instantly struck her. “Will you use a milk mother?”

  “Nay.” Catherine looked aghast at the suggestion.

  “Not many Chief’s wives nurse their children. Grant told me most have milk mother’s living in the castles. I didn’t care. ‘Twas the one thing I was adamant about. I almost died birthing Jamie, but as soon as I recovered, I nursed. I wanted him looking at my face and hearing my voice crooning to him, not another woman.”

  Cat smiled in understanding. “Duncan suggested we get one, but I waited too long to have a child to relinquish any of the joy.”

  Standing straighter, Catherine gasped and grabbed her back. A crippling pain shot through her.

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Catherine leaned against Tory as they walked upstairs and turned toward the master bedchamber.

  “Why did you not tell me you were having back pains?” Tory frowned as she helped Catherine out of her outer tunic and into bed.

  “Because you would not have gone with me and I needed to walk. I did not want my confinement to start so soon. I wish to wait as
long as possible.”

  Tory moved pillows around Catherine, then sat on the edge of the bed. “What can I do to make you more comfortable?” She reached out to hold Catherine’s hand.

  “Nothing, I...” She stopped, unable to go on.

  “Cat? Tell me.”

  Catherine’s eyes met and held Tory’s, imploring her to listen. “I do not wish to start my confinement yet. I spent so much time alone when I hurt my back and leg. I do not want to do that again. I...”

  Tory squeezed her hand. “I shall stay with you. ‘Twill be a long time yet since your pains just begin in earnest, but I will stay until you have your babe.” Looking at her friend, she smiled. “’Tis all right to be frightened you know. You needn’t hide it. For now, just rest.”

  “I did not tell Duncan my pains began. I feared he would panic.”

  Tory laughed. “Your husband fought in many a battle, came close to dying many times. You believe he would panic just because you have his bairn?”

  Catherine shrugged, uncertain what to say.

  Tory kept laughing. “Of course he will, silly girl. Grant falls apart every time I give birth! Duncan trains in the list with Grant now and will be busy for quite some time. Do not worry about him.”

  A sound from the far side of the room drew Catherine’s attention. “Did you hear that?”

  The scratching sound continued.

  “Aye, I do.” Tory got up and walked toward the wardrobe. “But I see naught.”

  Without warning, the wardrobe door banged open, knocking Tory to the floor.

  A man stepped out, reached forward and grabbed Tory as she scrambled to her knees to stand. Jerking her up against him, he slid his dirk along her neck. He turned to Catherine and warned just as she opened her mouth, “Scream, Lady MacThomas, and your friend dies.”

  Shaking with fear, Catherine closed her mouth without making a sound.

  The man drew Tory closer to the bed. She twisted and tried to scratch his face. “Let me go, Erwin MacComas. How did you get in here?”

  Catherine gasped. “You know him?”