Her Accidental Highlander Husband (MacKinlay Clan)

by Allison B Hanson

  “While it’s true there’s to be no public celebration for the holiday, you must be aware that every house on the block is secretly planning private festivities,” Mari said. “Even the duke demanded goose for dinner on Christmas Day.”

  “I forbid it.” The dowager went back to cutting her food into the tiniest of pieces. Cam wondered if she even had a need to chew.

  He said nothing else. He planned to do as he wished, regardless. As for ordering the meal, if he and Mari had to stay in their room to eat it, he didn’t see that as such a terrible idea. Having her near a bed was always his favorite thing.

  But Mari was upset. While she was not usually one to push things with the dowager, she did this time. “I plan to have a proper Christmas meal and share stories in front of the fire tomorrow,” she declared resolutely. “If it’s my last holiday on earth, I’ll bloody well celebrate it the way I see fit. What will they do? Hang me?”

  Cam couldn’t help but smile at her joke. He loved to see his wife all afire. She’d spent too many years being subdued. The fact that she felt safe enough to rant in her displeasure gave him much joy. Especially since, for once, he wasn’t the cause of her annoyance.

  But as she went on, he feared this outburst was more than simple irritation. His wife cried more than normal now that she was with child, but he thought the tears he currently saw lurking in her fierce eyes were something other than a maternal shift in her emotions.

  The dark thing they tried not to speak of still lurked on the edges of their lives, finding small ways to wear them down and destroy their fleeting happiness.

  “I don’t understand why you stay here if you hate us so much.” Mari’s voice trembled as she spoke. “You have the means to go back to Sussex or Chiswick, or lease a different house here in town. Why do you tarry here? You never stayed here before. Not once in all the years I lived here in this hell with the duke.” Mari halted her tirade and looked at the other woman as a bird might examine a worm.

  And then her face cleared, as if she’d had a major epiphany. Which, perhaps, she had.

  “You never stayed here,” Mari repeated as her eyes went wide and accusing. “You never stayed here because he was here. Isn’t that true?” she demanded.

  “I have no idea what you’re babbling about. I’ve been in this house many times.”

  “You occasionally visited for a few hours, but you never stayed. And come to think of it, I cannot help but notice you never once asked me why I killed the duke.” Mari narrowed her gaze on the dowager. “Because you knew all along how he was. What he was.”

  The dowager’s thin lips pursed in displeasure, but she didn’t refute Mari’s claim.

  Was it really possible the woman knew what a violent bastard her son had been?

  Cam reached for Mari’s hand, suspecting she would need his strength to get through the rest of this conversation.

  “Could you not have warned me, so I’d not be put through hell as his wife?” she accused.

  The older woman laughed without humor. “You came here with bright eyes and dreams of being a duchess. I tried to save you. I tried to stop the marriage. But your parents were blinded, too enamored of an alliance with such a prize.”

  “But if you’d come here to help me, maybe he wouldn’t have—”

  “Oh, he wouldn’t have stopped on my account, I can assure you.”

  “But if you’d been here, I wouldn’t have felt so all alone.” With that, Mari burst into tears and fled the room.

  Cam would give her a moment before going to her. For now he needed to deal with the prideful, unfeeling woman before him. So, she hadn’t ever visited while her son was alive. Cam didn’t think it had anything to do with Mari. If so, the dowager wouldn’t be staying here now.

  Something else was the cause.

  Someone else.

  “Did ye fear him?” Cam asked quietly. “Was he so far into evil that he’d raise a hand against the woman who bore him?”

  The dowager said nothing, just sat there looking at him as her eyes glistened. But no tears fell, even as she clenched and released her fingers.

  “I see,” he said and reached over to place his large hand over both of hers. She flinched, but he kept her gaze. Her backbone seemed to be made of steel, the way she sat there so stiffly.

  “Tomorrow Mari and I will gather down here by the fire,” he informed her. “We’ll have breakfast and share stories until the day grows late, and then we’ll eat a wonderful meal. You are welcome to join us or not. It’s your choice. But I will do this for my wife, because she wants it. We’re not blind as to what lies ahead for us. We know we have only a short time. That is why I’ll not lose the chance to make this new memory.”

  He let out a breath and swallowed against the tightness in his throat.

  The dowager watched him carefully, her face a mask of neutrality.

  “Can you give us this?” he asked. “I ken I have no right to ask anything of you. We don’t get on all that well, and it’s true Mari and I have invaded your home. But I beg you to let her enjoy this one day.”

  When she said nothing, he squeezed her hand, surprised she hadn’t flung him off.

  “Next Christmas I’ll be in Scotland with our child. And Mari…”

  He couldn’t finish. The horrible words wouldn’t come out of his throat.

  The frail woman before him pulled one of her hands out from under the weight of his, and to his utter shock, she rested it on top of his hand in a gesture of comfort. She cleared her throat in that regal manner of hers and straightened her already stiff spine. “I suppose we can share a meal. However, I’ll not tell any stories.”

  “Of course,” he agreed, and leaned over to place a kiss on her gnarled knuckles. “Thank you, Your Grace.”

  Knowing she wouldn’t want the attention, he gave a quick bow and left the room to go comfort his wife.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Mari sat in the seat next to the window and tucked her feet under her. It was raining, but even as she sat there, the sound against the glass changed to the faint tinkle of ice.

  Eventually the door opened, and Cam came in to sit next to her.

  “It’s all worked out. She’s agreed to allow our celebration.”

  “It was never about that.”

  “I know.” He pulled her tight against him. “But it’s the one thing I can do, so I’ll thank ye to pretend to be impressed that I’ve done it.”

  She let out a laugh despite not being in the mood for levity. That was Cam. He always knew how to make her happy. Even when she didn’t want to be.

  “You’re going to be a splendid father.”

  “Well, if I’ve managed to win over the miserable old goat, I should have a fair chance at earning the respect of a more reasonable person.”

  “You think a child from your stock would be reasonable?”

  He laughed once and kissed her temple. “Vixen.”

  She placed her hand on his face and looked into those honey eyes. “Thank you. For taking care of it. The day means more to me than it should.”

  “I understand.” He took her hand and placed a kiss to her palm before putting it back on his cheek. “I’ll do anything for ye, love. You have only to ask.”

  “I know. I’m so glad you’re here.”

  He nodded but didn’t say anything.

  She knew he didn’t want to be there. He would rather be back at Dunardry preparing the great hall for the holiday feast. The strength it must take for him to remain silent was more impressive than watching him wield his sword or move a pile of large rocks with his bare hands.

  That night he held her close, and she asked what they would be doing back home. He went into great detail, sharing tales of the preparations at Dunardry, past and present, until she fell asleep.

  The next day they spent as others in the city we
re doing, quietly celebrating the holiday in the privacy of their homes. After a hearty dinner with the quiet dowager, they sat and read stories in the library in front of the fire.

  Mari closed the book she’d been reading, and Cam set something on her lap. It was a horribly embroidered handkerchief that could have only fallen victim to the hands of her sister. “Kenna surely sent this,” she said, overwhelmed with love and amusement.

  He laughed. “Aye. She made the handkerchief, but the thing inside it is from me. I wrote and had her send it to me.”

  Mari unwrapped the bundle to find a silver locket shimmering in the light by the fire.

  “It belonged to my mother.”

  She wanted to tell him to keep it, that it was a waste to give it to her, but she didn’t. There was no place for sadness on this day. Instead, she smiled and happily fastened it around her neck.

  “These are not for you, but for the babe.” He held out a wooden box. She opened it to find an assortment of wooden animals. Some were smoothed and painted. A few were still raw wood, and it was clear they weren’t completed.

  “I still need to finish the cattle. And the wee mouse.”

  Mari picked up a rabbit and smiled at the detail, including a tail and a pink nose. “An elephant!” she exclaimed. “I saw one two summers ago.”

  “Do I have it right? I remembered you telling me of seeing it. I thought it fascinating and wondered if it was a real creature.”

  “It’s just so.” She held it to her chest. “They are wonderful, Cam. Truly.” She placed a kiss on his cheek, and for once the dowager didn’t make a disgruntled sound at their affection.

  He picked up another package and took it over to the older woman. Bending down, he placed it on her lap.

  Mari had never seen the woman so startled. Cam had shocked the perpetual frown right from her face. It brought a smile to Mari’s lips.

  “What are you about?” The frown was back, but Mari could tell the woman was touched.

  “Open it and see.”

  A wooden carving tumbled out into her lap.

  “I know you like to watch the birds in the mornings. You have a special place for the red ones,” Cam noted.

  “It’s a horrible likeness,” she said, though her lips were pressed into an indulgent expression. Cam laughed, unaffected by her words. “Really, you shouldn’t have bothered.”

  “Well, I did, so you’ll just have to like it.”

  The woman tried her best not to, but a slight smile tugged up her lips when Cam bent to kiss the top of her head.

  “Impertinent brute.” She swatted at him.

  “Miserable goat.” He winked at her.

  As promised, Cam launched into the tale of how his father had taught him to carve, and from there the rest of the evening was spent with them sharing stories.

  “Your sister sounds like a hoyden,” the dowager said matter-of-factly.

  “That is a right description, Your Grace,” Mari agreed. “But she is the most wonderful person imaginable. She told me once that when she reaches the end of her days, she will have no regrets, for she will have lived fully.” Mari let out a breath, missing her sister dearly.

  “Would that we could all live in such a way. But some of us have obligations. Duties to fulfill.”

  “Surely you don’t still feel obligated to the Endsmere name?” Cam asked, no doubt insulting her yet again. “’Tis not even a real person, but merely a title. What has it ever done for ye?”

  The dowager turned the little red bird over in her fingers. “It’s not just a title. It’s my very existence.”

  “He didn’t mean to say—” Mari began.

  “No, I heard him clearly. And he’s right. When I’m gone, I’ll be but a portrait in the gallery, whereas your sister will be talked about for ages as the woman who faced down the English army and invited them for tea.”

  Mari smiled at the story she’d just told. The observation was true enough.

  “There’s still time to create some fine stories about your own life,” Cam offered the dowager. “In fact, we’re doing so right now. They’ll all tell tales of the brave dowager duchess who was forced to spend her holiday with a Scottish war chief.”

  If Mari didn’t know better, she might have thought the sound that came from the dowager was a laugh. It was a dry, rusty kind of sound. But the dowager rarely laughed, and when she did, it was never from joy or humor.

  “Just so,” she said, and cleared her throat before calling out for Parkes.

  Mari expected the dowager wanted to return to her room and required assistance, but instead she remained seated as she doled out an order to the butler. “Bring it in now. Hurry along,” she snapped.

  The man left, and a moment later he returned carrying something bulky. It was placed on the floor at Mari’s feet.

  Suddenly, she realized what it was. A gasp left her as she gazed misty-eyed at the beautifully scrolled wood curving into the legs of a cradle. A large M had been carved into the headpiece.

  Even Cam made a sound of surprise.

  “It is indeed lovely. Thank you for such a perfect gift,” Cam said. He must have realized Mari couldn’t yet find words.

  This was beyond anything the dowager had done for Mari in the past. It wasn’t an heirloom brought down from the attic and brushed off. It was new and must have been ordered weeks ago.

  “It’s nothing more than a necessity.” The dowager brushed off her generosity. “The child must have a place to sleep.”

  Mari went to her and offered a stiff hug. The woman patted her shoulder but didn’t give more than that tiny bit of affection.

  Mari had always thought the woman a frigid person, but now she could see there was more to her below the icy layer she’d created…most likely to protect herself from the truth of her son’s evil.

  “Thank you, Mother. It’s wonderful.”

  The dowager opened her mouth, likely to scold Mari for calling her Mother, but she closed it instead and gave a stern nod. “I’ll be off to bed now. It’s been a tiring day.” She stood stiffly on her still-healing foot and shuffled toward the door, where she paused. “Thank you for including me.”

  Before they could respond, she was out the door.

  …

  Cam hadn’t ever expected to spend the holidays in London, but if he couldn’t be at home, he’d be wherever Mari was and like it just fine.

  They’d had a joyful holiday, but he found himself missing Dunardry. Not the castle, but the people in it. One person in particular especially weighed on his mind over the months as winter turned into spring.

  He didn’t know how he would get on with Lach when he returned. Perhaps after Cam ran away, Lach wouldn’t even be willing to take him back. Kenna wouldn’t allow her husband to cast out her niece or nephew, so he knew when he returned with the babe, he’d be granted access.

  But would Cam be able to look on Lach as a friend after what he’d done?

  “A letter has arrived for you, sir,” Parkes announced, and delivered a sealed letter to him with a bow.

  Cam still wasn’t accustomed to the fuss and was about to tell the man to stop bowing when he noticed the seal on the missive.

  Lachlan.

  Rather than open it, he set it to the side to focus on his meal.

  “Who’s it from?” Mari inquired, rubbing her large stomach, where their child grew.

  Since he’d been at Blackley House, he’d not received any correspondence other than the locket from Kenna, so it was natural she’d be curious. Mail was such a rare thing. It was always shared with others unless it was truly to be kept private. But Cam didn’t want to share whatever words the letter held.

  “No one.”

  Her frown spoke of her disappointment. “But you’ll read it before you dash it into the fire?”

  “I haven’
t decided yet.”

  “What if someone is ill?” She gasped in distress. “What if it’s one of the boys—or Kenna?”

  “Bugger,” he grumbled while snatching up the letter and breaking the seal. He’d not be able to finish his meal now until he knew for certain his family was in good health.

  Dear Cam,

  I hope this letter finds ye well. Kenna shared the news of the babe, and I send my heartfelt wishes of happiness to you. Fatherhood is a great blessing. Ye shall make a fine father. My boys love you, and I know your child will as well.

  I must warn you, the rest of this letter will be nothing more than a groveling mess. For I’ve no clue as to how to ask for your forgiveness when I don’t deserve such a thing.

  However, I must also say that I wasn’t wrong. I know this is a sorry way to start an apology. I acted as a laird, and in that, I did what was best for my clan. But I should have also acted as a friend and brother, for that is what you are to me. At the time I wasn’t sure how to unite the two, and I didn’t see any way to be both the laird and your friend when faced with the options I was given.

  I also acted as a brother-in-law to Mari. I’ll not put all the blame on her shoulders, for I was the one who honored her request when I needn’t have. But when I put myself in her place, I knew I would have done exactly the same thing she’d asked.

  What I neglected to do was put myself in your place, for I know if I had, I would have kept trying to come up with another plan.

  I failed you, and for that I feel this whole letter and asking for forgiveness will be in vain.

  As I see it, my only chance at redemption is to offer you what I withheld earlier. My sword. My men. My loyalty.

  If you need us to march on London, you have only to send word and we’ll be there, ready to stand with you in an attempt to save your family.

  Your brother in honor,

  Lachlan James Campbell MacKinlay

  Laird of Clan MacKinlay

  Cam swallowed the large lump in his throat.

  What good would the MacKinlay army do him now, anyway? It was easy enough for Lach to promise things now that there was no need for it. An empty alliance wasn’t worth Cam’s time.