The Highlander's Woman (The Reckless Rockwoods #3)

by Monica Burns

  “You still have your headache, don’t you?”

  Unable to nod without making his head throb, he simply grunted. Her touch almost tender, her fingers stroked across his temple before she gently urged him to straighten and she wrapped her arm around his waist. Another body on his opposite side provided a similar support, and he recognized Lorne’s silent strength. As his wife and estate manager helped him up the stairs to his bedroom, Julian’s feet seemed encased in lead boots. Jaw clenched, he forced himself to try and ignore the pain in his head. The task was a hopeless one, and when they reached his room, Julian gratefully sank down onto his bed.

  “Lorne, I need lavender water, and rags for compresses.” The soft, clear cadence of Patience’s voice drifted through his haze of pain followed by Lorne’s quiet reply. The door closed behind his estate manager, and Patience returned to his side.

  “I’m sorry, Julian, but you need to sit up. You’ll not rest easy until you’re undressed.”

  The soft steel in her voice said she refused to let him argue with her. When had his wife become as strong-willed as the Scotswomen he’d grown up with? His father had been wrong about Patience in so many ways. He growled in pain as she slid one arm beneath his shoulders to raise him up and remove his jacket.

  He groaned as she eased him out of his coat, and as if understanding any movement was painful for him, Patience moved all the more quickly to help him undress. With his waistcoat and shirt off, Patience helped ease him backward into the feather pillows. Somewhere in the deep recesses of his mind where the pain didn’t reach, he remembered other times when Patience’s hands had lovingly undressed him.

  Her touch was gentle now, but he knew how hot her touch could be. God, he wished he didn’t feel so fucking miserable. He’d have her undressed in minutes so he could bury himself inside her. Eyes closed, he didn’t move as Patience continued to undress him. Somewhere in the back of his mind he found himself wishing he didn’t have a migraine. He wished they were simply a husband and wife making love.

  Sleep must have dragged him out of the conscious realm as the next thing he knew he was naked beneath the sheets. A cool compress lay on his forehead, and the soft scent of lavender water wafted beneath his nose. His hand reached up to touch her fingers as Patience gently removed the compress and replaced it with a new one.

  “You do no’ need to do this, Patience,” he whispered hoarsely. “It will pass.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me you were too unwell to ride?” Guilt echoed in her voice. “I could have gone for help.”

  “It would no’ have made a difference. The only way for me to come back to the castle would have been to ride.” Julian could almost sense the guilt emanating from her, and he sighed. “And do no’ be thinking you should no’ have thought to challenge me to ride. I enjoyed it. It was good to be outdoors again.”

  Her hand clasped his as he closed his eyes. There was a serenity about her taking care of him that gave him a sense of peace. His head still pounded like a freight train, but the fact that Patience was with him made the pain easier to bear. Patience released his hand, and he immediately felt the loss of her comforting heat. A moment later her soft breast pressed into his shoulder as she raised him up slightly.

  “Mrs. Lester fixed you some chamomile tea,” she murmured. “It will help you sleep, and that’s the best thing for you right now.”

  “Aye,” he whispered as he drank the tea she’d pressed to his lips. When he was settled back against the pillows, sleep swept toward him, but not before he expressed his gratitude. “Thank you, mo leannan.”

  He thought he heard Patience utter a soft sound, but it was impossible to be sure as sleep dragged him back down once more.

  Chapter 11

  * * *

  Patience slowly opened the door that connected her room with Julian’s. He’d yet to learn she was in the room next to his, and she was no longer sure what he would make of the fact. Twice yesterday he’d called her mo leannan—sweetheart.

  It could simply be a term of endearment he used without thinking, but it had made her hope Julian still had feelings for her buried just beneath his caustic manner. He was a proud man. Even if he still loved her, she’d sent him away under the pretext she thought him a liar. That alone would injure his fierce pride.

  As she peeked around the door, she saw Julian was still fast asleep. She breathed a soft sigh of relief. She wasn’t sure she was ready to face his reaction when he discovered she was in the room next to his. Quietly, Patience stepped into Julian’s bedroom and closed the door linking their rooms. Julian had suffered in stoic silence for most of yesterday with the exception of short, harsh snarls whenever he did speak.

  The man abhorred anything resembling confinement. That he’d remained in bed yesterday indicated how bad he’d felt. Last night, she’d added a few drops of laudanum to his chamomile tea hoping it would provide him with some well-needed rest. It had done precisely what she’d hoped as she’d checked in on him twice last night, and he’d not stirred either time.

  Patience crossed the room and sat down on the edge of the mattress. She took Julian’s hand in hers and studied him as he slept. Julian had never looked so vulnerable to her. She knew the loss of his eyesight was far more devastating for him than he was willing to let others see. He’d never found it easy to ask for help. Julian’s independence was something he valued highly. His sister, despite the deep love she had for her brother, had most likely made things all the more difficult for him.

  Muireall’s objection yesterday to Julian riding to the falls was an example of her sister-in-law’s love and concern for her brother. The girl’s reaction had made Patience regret challenging Julian to go riding with her. It had been impulsive and foolhardy on her part to suggest he was afraid to ride. But his gruff expression of gratitude for giving him the pleasure of being outdoors again convinced her that taunting him had been the right thing to do.

  Instinctively, she knew it had been much more than being outdoors that Julian was grateful for. He hadn’t said so, but she was certain she’d given him a small measure of his independence back. But would he believe love had been her motivation in making him realize his lack of vision only hampered him in certain things. It didn’t change who he was, how he loved, or who loved him. Patience bent her head and kissed his fingers then left the room. When she entered the dining room a few moments later, Muireall’s head jerked up to meet Patience’s gaze with a look of worry on her sweet features.

  “How is he?”

  “He’s still asleep, but I’m sure he’ll be fine,” Patience said with a smile of reassurance. “How often has he had these headaches?”

  “Fairly often since the accident, but never one so bad as yesterday. But then he’s no’ gone riding since the accident either,” Muireall said with a faint note of accusation in her voice.

  Patience experienced a twinge of guilt as she met her sister-in-law’s gaze. Perhaps Muireall was right. It was quite possible the ride to Eas Falloch might have been too taxing for Julian. But she knew the ride had also been good for him if only to make him feel free and independent again. She took a seat across from Muireall and placed her napkin in her lap. Patience directed a steady look at her sister-in-law.

  “Riding did not give Julian a headache, Muireall.”

  Patience reached for a piece of toast in the basket sitting close to her plate. She added a thin layer of black currant jam to the crisp bread and bit into the toast. The delicate mix of gooseberry and raspberry on her tongue was delicious, and she debated adding more jam to her toast. She would have to remember to compliment Mrs. Lester on the delectable preserves. She looked at her sister-in-law again.

  “I know how much you love Julian and want to protect him, Muireall,” she said quietly. “But he needs to believe he’s capable of doing things one wouldn’t expect a blind person to do, such as riding.”

  “But it was dangerous. He could have been thrown or worse.”

  “It was no more dange
rous yesterday than it was when he could see. The only difference was he needed someone to go with him as a guide.” The explanation made Muireall frown in contemplation.

  “Tis true.” Her sister-in-law nodded slowly. “But I was afraid for him.”

  “Do you think I wasn’t worried about him too?” Patience said as she dropped her gaze to her plate and her mind flitted back to the memory of Julian sprawled on the ground. “When he stumbled and fell just—”

  “Why did you no’ tell me this before,” Muireall exclaimed. Patience shook her head.

  “The man fell because he was being stubborn and refused to ask for help,” she said between clenched teeth at her sister-in-law’s unspoken condemnation. “The ride isn’t what caused his headache, and even if had, it shouldn’t change the way we must treat him from now on.”

  “But I—”

  “We cannot mollycoddle him,” Patience said sternly before softening her voice. “That is the last thing he needs. From what little I’ve seen, he’s been feeling quite sorry for himself, which means you have borne the brunt of his frustration.”

  “You can no’ expect me no’ to help him, Patience.”

  “Of course not,” she said gently. “But you must not do things for him unless he asks. If we don’t let him try to do things for himself then his spirit will be broken, and neither of us want that.”

  “No, I would never want Julian to feel as though he had nothing to live for,” Muireall said with dismay furrowing her brow. “But riding? It seems…”

  “It might be worrisome for us, and although he’d never admit it, I’m sure Julian must have felt a bit of apprehension himself. But he had no trouble riding yesterday morning at all. He enjoyed himself, Muireall. I’m convinced of it.”

  A thoughtful look settled on her sister-in-law’s sweet features. It was one she’d seen on Julian’s face more times than she could count. In silence, she watched Muireall adjust to the idea that her brother could do a great many things for himself. After a long moment, Muireall nodded her head.

  “I understand. I’m simply no’ accustomed to Julian no’ needing my help.”

  “It's not a question of him not needing your help, dearest. We simply need to help him understand he’s independent and capable of doing most things on his own. But he also has to come to the realization that it's quite all right to ask for help when necessary.”

  Muireall nodded her head in understanding, and Patience applied more jam to another piece of toast. If she wasn’t careful, Mrs. Lester’s preserves would be detrimental to her figure, but the black currant jam was incredibly delicious. The rustle of skirts announced Mrs. Drummond, and Patience looked toward the door as the housekeeper entered the room.

  “Good morning, my lady, Miss Muireall.” The woman smiled at both of them before focusing her attention on Patience. “Might I ask how the Crianlarich is feeling, my lady.”

  “He’s still sleeping, but I believe he’ll be fine when he awakens.” At Patience’s reply, the housekeeper’s worried frown was replaced with relief.

  “That is indeed good to hear, my lady,” Mrs. Drummond said with a bob of her head before she changed the subject. “If I may, my lady, Nurse asked me to see if you would be coming to see Master Aiden—”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Drummond, that will be all,” Muireall quickly interrupted the woman in the same authoritative manner Julian often displayed. “I’ll see to it that Lady Patience finds her way to the nursery after breakfast.”

  Bewildered by the brief exchange, Patience stared at first the housekeeper and then Muireall as she tried to make heads or tails out of the puzzling conversation. Who was Aiden, and why would Mrs. Drummond expect her to visit him in the nursery? Patience looked at her sister-in-law, whose expression was one of worry and apprehension, while Mrs. Drummond appeared thoroughly confused.

  “Aiden?” Patience cautiously asked, and the housekeeper nodded her head as she smiled at Patience.

  “The wee bairn is a bonnie lad, my lady. He looks just like the Crianlarich did when he was a little one. And the bonnie lad has your temperament, my lady. He’s such a—”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Drummond. I said that will be all,” Muireall interrupted the woman again.

  This time her voice was almost icy. It was a tone of voice she’d never heard her sister-in-law use with anyone before. The sharp note in Muireall’s voice was designed to point out the conversation had ended.

  “Of course, Miss Muireall.” The housekeeper flinched as her cheeks became flushed with embarrassment, and with a quick bob of her head the woman left the room.

  Patience’s gaze focused on Muireall who was studying her with an uneasy look on her face. An icy draft blew across her skin as her surprise vanished, and she absorbed Mrs. Drummond’s words. Julian had a child. He’d told her he’d been faithful, and she’d been a fool to believe him. Her chest ached as if someone had torn her heart out. Horror followed on the heels of the sickening pain pounding its way through her. He had a son. A child the housekeeper believed was hers and Julian’s.

  Dear God, Julian had told everyone she was the child’s mother. Suddenly very cold, Patience shivered. Why had he done such a thing? Did he really expect her to claim a son that wasn’t hers. A child he’d had with another woman. The thought made her twist the napkin in her lap into a tight knot. She swallowed hard to suppress the bile rising in her throat.

  “Who is Aiden?” Patience asked in a stilted voice.

  “Tis no’ my story to tell.” Muireall’s reply made Patience’s stomach churn.

  “I’ve heard those words before,” she said bitterly. Quickly rising to her feet, she flung her napkin onto the table.

  “Patience, if I—”

  “Don’t, Muireall. The fact that Julian didn’t mention he had a son the day I arrived at Crianlarich indicates how important he feels it is to explain anything to me,” she bit out in a frigid voice. A small twinge of regret nipped at her as a pained look crossed the girl’s face.

  She didn’t wait for Muireall to argue with her, she simply walked out of the dining room her entire body knotted with pain. Fool. You were a fool to be taken in again, Patience MacTavish. He’d lied. He’d fathered a child with another woman. An image of Una holding a baby popped into her head, and she uttered a soft cry of grief.

  Patience swayed on her feet from the pain of Julian’s betrayal and reached out to cling to the newel post of the stairs. Una had been telling the truth after all. Nausea swirled in her stomach, and she dropped her head in an effort to quiet the nasty sensation.

  After a moment, the sickness ebbed away, and Patience slowly climbed the stairs in a state of shock. When she reached the second floor, she turned toward her room then stopped. Numb with pain, something perverse inside her made her turn around. Patience tried to fight the urge, but her feet carried her in the direction of the nursery.

  When she’d visited Crianlarich after she and Julian were married, he’d shown her the nursery. She still remembered the deep rumble of his voice against her neck as he’d teasingly asked if she wanted to work on filling the nursery at that moment. Her heart skipped a beat as she recalled the passion that had followed.

  The hopes and dreams she had then were little more than ashes now. If they’d ever even existed. As she entered the nursery, a matronly woman emerged from a room off the main suite. Her expression warm and cheerful, the nurse greeted her with a smile.

  “Good morning, my lady, I’d hoped ye might come tae see Master Aiden this morning,” the woman said in a pleasant voice. “Let me fetch the young master for ye. He’s just had his bath.”

  The nurse quickly disappeared back into the room she’d come from and returned almost immediately with a happy-looking baby. As the nurse handed the boy to her, Patience tried not to flinch. The baby came willingly and looked up at her with eyes that were just like his father’s with the same full, sooty eyelashes. He was beautiful. He was just like the child she’d longed for from the first moment Julian ha
d possessed her body and soul.

  She would never have children of her own. She would never have Julian’s children. The knowledge that everyone believed Aiden was her son only emphasized the bitter truth of her barren state. Worse, how could Julian been so cruel to propagate such a lie? Patience fought back tears at the acute pain scraping at her insides. The baby reached up to touch her face and grinned at her. She’d always loved children, and before she realized what she was doing, she sank down into the well-worn wood seat of the rocking chair at the window.

  Patience didn’t know whether to laugh at the baby’s happy jabbering and smiles or to cry because she was holding Julian’s child by another woman. Julian and Una’s child. She grew still at the thought. As the aunt to almost a dozen children, she could tell Aiden was somewhere between nine and ten months old. The realization made her stiffen in consternation.

  Una couldn’t be the child’s mother.

  The realization sent a rush of relief spiraling through her. If Una had been Aiden’s mother, the woman could never have been able to bring Patience’s world crashing down around her that terrible day. Either the woman’s girth would have revealed she was with child or she would have been lying-in to regain her strength and nurse her baby.

  Hope suddenly unfurled deep inside her as she quickly calculated dates. It was more than possible Aiden had been conceived a short time before she and Julian had met. Men had dalliances all the time. It was more than possible Julian and she had been married before he’d even known he’d sired a son. She could easily forgive him such a discretion. But where was Aiden’s mother? Had she died in childbirth, and Julian had done the honorable thing bringing his son home?

  The memory of Julian not coming home the night before her marriage fell apart made her draw in a quick breath. He’d refused to tell her what had happened that night. His only defense had been that it wasn’t his secret to tell. Was that what Muireall had meant a short while ago? Had something changed and Julian could tell her where he’d been that night? She wasn’t sure she’d be able to believe him. But most of all, she wasn’t sure she had it in her to forgive him for his cruel lie.