I crossed the room and kissed her cheek.
She returned the gesture and favored me with a wistful smile. “Christina. You are the one who has grown into a beauty. It would seem marriage agrees with you.”
“Very much.” I returned her smile and felt myself blush. Though Collin and I had been married seven months, it was only recently that some of the finer aspects of marriage had come into play. “This is my husband, Laird Collin MacDonald.” I stepped aside so Collin might greet her. Though Collin’s land and home had been taken from him, never had I felt him more deserving of that title. The way he had led both our people the past months, the many he had saved, had proved him a leader of men.
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Lady Hartley. Katie has told me much about you.” He took her hand and pressed a kiss to it, as any gallant English lord might.
I waited a breath, watching to see what Anna might think of him, his scars. Though largely healed now, and hardly noticeable to me, they had altered his appearance, particularly that of his hands. But if she found them disconcerting, she did not let on.
“Oh dear. I can imagine what tales those might have been.” Her brows rose as she glanced at me.
“Indeed.” Collin released her hand and stepped back. “They were rather astonishing, for what one might believe of well-bred young ladies. Midnight escapades jumping on the bed, fits of giggles, and the like.”
Anna laughed. “All Christina’s doing, I assure you.”
“No doubt,” Collin agreed with a smirk my direction. “She has been rather prone to both adventure and trouble since the very beginning of our acquaintance.”
“Won’t you sit?” Anna indicated the sofa behind us. “I’ll ring for tea.”
“Not tea.” Timothy flung himself backward over a chair. “Boring people come for tea. Christina came to visit, to play.”
“She came because I asked her to,” Anna said, sounding very much like her old, snobbish self.
“I’m with the lad,” Collin admitted. “After hours in a carriage, I think a bit of play, or a walk in your gardens at least, is in order. Will you come with me, Timothy?”
“Yes!” Timothy jumped from the chair and made for the doorway.
Anna called him back— rather more sharply than necessary, I thought.
He stopped where he was, shoulders slumped, head down. “Yes, sister.”
“You did not ask permission to go out.”
He turned and faced her. “Please, may I take Lord MacDonald outside to show him the gardens?”
Anna gave a slight nod of her head. “You may.”
Collin’s mouth twitched as he turned to me. “May I go out as well, milady?”
“Please do,” I said, giving him a playful shove.
He gave a polite nod, accompanied by a wink and rather sultry look that made my knees feel weak. As he left with Timothy I sighed inwardly, counting the hours until Collin and I might be alone together again. Flirting was new to both of us, and I quite enjoyed it and all that came after.
“Your husband is charming.” Anna seated herself on the end of the sofa opposite me. “His appearance might lead one to believe otherwise, but when he looks at you...”
“I love him.”
“He feels the same for you,” Anna observed. “You are fortunate.”
“Yes,” I said, marveling that I felt that way and so gloriously happy when but a few weeks earlier life had seemed anything but.
“You are fortunate as well,” I said, pulling my thoughts from Collin. “You’ve this beautiful home, and a bairn— a baby— shortly to arrive.”
“Let us hope it is shortly,” Anna said, placing a hand over the top of her rounded stomach. “He was supposed to come last week. No doubt Mother is doing her best from the other side to delay his arrival and thus limit the wagging tongues and scandal. I am fair certain it was the shame of it all that killed her.”
My lips parted, but no words came out. I shook my head a little as I looked at Anna. “Scandal? What do you mean?”
“Can you not count, Christina?” Anna snapped. “I have been married barely eight months. From conception it takes nearly ten for a child to grow.”
“Perhaps he is simply a large baby,” I suggested.
“Don’t pretend to be dimwitted. Of course Mother told you everything. Why do you think she had you wed so suddenly, without even meeting your bridegroom before?”
“Mother told me nothing,” I replied, struggling to keep my temper. This was not going as I had planned or hoped. “I was not introduced to Collin because he was coming from Scotland. But I had met him before. We were betrothed when I was only four years old.”
Anna waved her hand. “Well, the circumstances were odd, nonetheless. Though I see you, at least, are not suffering under strain of an early pregnancy. Mother kept telling me that I must pray it stays in as long as possible. But I don’t even care now. I just want it out.”
“Anna.” I looked at her reproachfully. “You are speaking of your baby. A life created by you and your husband.” It was his child, wasn’t it?
“A baby I don’t want,” she said bitterly. She looked down at the swell of her stomach. “Do you know what happens when you give a man what he asks for?”
“He loves you for it,” I suggested.
Anna let out a puff of air as she shook her head. “No. He cares for it— for you— less and only wants what he cannot have even more.”
I frowned, trying to follow her conversation and logic. “Are you speaking of Phillip?”
Anna nodded. “Last April I gave him what he asked for, though it wasn’t— or rather I wasn’t what he really wanted.” Her gaze flickered to mine, with a flash of jealousy. “You were.”
“Me?” I shook my head then laughed. “You are gravely mistaken, sister. Phillip never had any interest in me. Remember, I was the odd daughter, the one who preferred to stay home alone to paint, instead of taking carriage rides to attend social events in the city.”
“That is why he fancied you,” Anna said. “You weren’t like all the other girls, and you shared his passion.”
I thought suddenly of all the paintings hanging in the foyer.
Anna nodded, perhaps reading the revelation on my face. “Why do you think we spent our honeymoon in Paris admiring and acquiring artwork? It wasn’t my idea,” she said bitterly.
I sat speechless, unbelieving and uncertain what I might say to make this visit gone horribly wrong turn out better. “I’m sorry, Anna. I didn’t know.” Little wonder she had been so angry with me when I had taken a turn with Phillip at a dance we had both attended.
“No need to be sorry,” she said with a false air of cheerfulness. “I gave him what he asked for, and we both got this.” She rubbed her hand over her stomach. “I don’t even care anymore what the gossipmongers make of it. The child is Phillip’s, and Phillip is mine.”
“I am— happy for you?”
“Excellent,” Anna said. “Someone in this equation ought to be, and it certainly isn’t Phillip or me. Now then, if you’ll be so kind as to ring for the servants.” She indicated a rope behind me.
I pulled the tassel, though my appetite for tea or anything else had fled. I didn’t understand Anna but felt only miserable for her or perhaps with her at the moment, as her misery seemed to permeate the very air around us.
A maid appeared, not with tea but carrying two suitcases. “Master Timothy’s belongings are packed.” She set the suitcases down and curtsied.
“Thank you,” Anna said. “You may go now. I don’t think we are feeling up to tea after all.”
“Where is Timothy going?” I demanded as soon as the maid had left. “You can’t ship him off to a boarding school somewhere. Losing both Father and Mother has to have been hard enough on him.”
“He’s not going to school, silly, though that would have done as well, I suppose. But Phillip wouldn’t have been pleased about the cost. This is much better. Timothy is going with you, of course.”
>
“Anna, we have no home. We are preparing to sail to the Colonies.”
“So? Take him with you.” She smiled, then stood as if the matter was decided.
“I can’t take him from his homeland. You’re here, and so is his grandfather.”
“Grandfather is old. He won’t be around long, and I’m going to have enough to deal with when this child comes. I have no use for Timothy here, and he is an annoyance to Phillip. I don’t want Timothy around, and neither does he.”
“How can you say that?” I stood, feeling my temper rise as well. “Timothy is your brother. You have everything here. You can provide him with a home and family, an education and opportunity.”
“Timothy doesn’t care about any of those things. He only wants someone to love him, and I can’t give him that,” Anna said. “I can’t even love myself right now.” She turned away from me, head bent.
I felt both terrible for her and angry with her selfishness. But if this was to be the last time I ever saw my sister again, I didn’t want to leave on a bitter note. I moved closer and put my arm around her.
“I’ll take him.” It seemed both a wonderful surprise, and blessing. Collin will understand— I hope. “What can I do for you? I want you to be happy too, Anna. How can I help?”
“Oh, Christina.” She turned in my arms, and I held her close, letting her weep on my shoulder. “I’ve made such a mess of things.”
For the first time since I’d walked into the room it felt like the old Anna was back, the one who used to share secrets and fears and laughter.
“There’s nothing that cannot be fixed,” I said. “This baby is yours and Phillip’s. He will love it as he will love you for giving him a child.”
“I don’t know.”
I detected the faintest trace of hope in her voice.
“I do,” I said vehemently. “A baby is a miracle. The most beautiful miracle that happens between a husband and wife.”
“You sound like you’ve experience,” Anna remarked drily as she wiped her eyes.
“I do.” I told her of Lydia and how Collin and I had loved her, though she was not even ours. “You’ll see,” I promised. “Phillip can love you both. He will.”
“What if I cannot love him?” Anna asked, startling me once again.
“What do you mean? You loved him when you married, did you not?” I thought back to all of the preparations for Anna’s wedding and realized very little had included anything to do with her fiancé.
“I wanted him, and wanted him to want me,” Anna said. “I wanted this.” She swept her hand before her, indicating the beautiful room. “Truly I have everything I ever wished for, so why am I not happy?”
* * *
Much later, I sat in the carriage, beside Timothy with Collin across from us, as I thought sorrowfully of my sister. With so much hardship in the world already, why did some people choose to make their own, to make even more? It occurred to me that what we want is not always what is best. I had wanted the life of an artist, to be wealthy and well received, or at least enough so to support Mother, Timothy, and myself.
I had not wanted a husband, particularly one who was a Scottish laird. I had not wanted children, or an extended family who expected so much of me. I’d not wished for weeks of harsh travel by land and more to come by sea. I’d not wished to leave my homeland forever to build a life in a new one.
I had attained nothing of my girlhood dreams. Aside from not having achieved fame and fortune, I had not even a jar of paint or a canvas at present. I had no home and scarcely a material possession to my name. Yet I could not deny the happiness bursting within my soul. I had Collin and now Timothy. And not too many months from now I would hold the baby Collin and I had created. I pressed my hand against my flat stomach as I smiled. Collin glanced at me, his own mouth curved with a joy I’d not seen there in months past. We had very literally nothing but our love for each other and the promise of a home in a new land. In that moment I was certainly the happiest woman alive.
Chapter Two
Aboard the Ulysses, the Atlantic Ocean
Ian
“Don’t you dare die. I forbid it. Do you hear me?”
“Aye,” Ian murmured, the rasping sound of his own voice strange to his ears. Fingers pried at his lips, parting them, and a foul liquid trickled into his mouth. He tried turning his head away and found it held fast.
“It’s all we’ve got. I’m sorry.” The woman’s voice was gentler this time.
We? Ian tried to place the voice, tried to imagine a woman who would wish him alive instead of dead, and one who would willingly tend him. He couldn’t even remember why he needed tending or where he was.
She was wiping his face now, dabbing at the sides of his mouth where the broth— or whatever it was she’d poured down his throat— had trickled out at the sides. He forced an eye open and met only darkness. A black so deep... Have I gone blind?
“Where—” His voice gave out, but she seemed to understand.
“We’re in the hold of the ship. That’s why it’s so dark. The English soldiers wanted to throw you to the sharks, but I snuck you down here before they could. The crew said you weren’t long for the world and wouldn’t survive the journey. The English have a terrible habit of sending men to their deaths before they have earned them.”
Her voice slipped, and Ian felt her hand trembling as she pressed a cool cloth to his forehead. He felt an inexplicable urge to comfort this stranger.
“My father— the man whom you helped to walk, when the Redcoats would have beaten him for being slow— wasn’t dead when they threw him into a burning barn. They barred the door, so he couldn’t escape, and he was left to suffer a terrible death.”
Ian summoned enough strength to grope through the dark until he found her hand. He clasped it, offering the only comfort he could. Not much of what she’d said made sense. He couldn’t recall how he’d come to be here, let alone who she was or having helped her father. But he understood sorrow. And loss.
“Name?”
“Mine or yours? You haven’t forgotten who you are, have you?”
Have I? If so, it was probably better. Without trying to recall specifics, he seemed to know the past as a blur of misery. And pain. Lots of pain. Like he was in now. Everything hurt, from his head to his chest to his legs and feet.
“You’re Collin MacDonald, laird of the MacDonald clan and husband to the heir of the Campbells’. Your wife is a seer. You escaped to return to her, but then for some reason... You came back. You allowed yourself to be taken.”
Collin. Ian remembered. My ruse worked. Amidst everything that hurt, both inside and out, he felt a small morsel of joy. The Redcoats had believed he was Collin and put him on the ship for the Colonies. Which left his twin, the real Collin, free. God willing, he’d found his wife alive and well and had rescued her.
“My name is Elizabeth,” his unseen companion said.
“Eliza—” Ian managed before his voice gave out.
“You may call me that if you’d like.”
He heard the hint of a smile in her voice and grasped onto that. In the bleak existence he had awoken to, there was a bit of good. God had not left him wholly alone this time. Not like those other years with the Munros, when there had been no light in his life. He had survived then, and he would now. If for no other reason than to someday see the smile that went with her voice. Eliza’s.
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A final note,
Thank you for reading A Promise for Tomorrow.
I continue to appreciate those who take the time to read my stories and those who post reviews as well. You make it possible for me to continue doing what I love.
If you would like more information about my other books and future releases, please visit www.michelepaigeholmes.com. You can also follow me on Twitter at @MichelePHolmes.
Happy reading!
Michele
About Michele Paige Holmes
Michele Paige Holmes spent her childhood and youth in Arizona and northern California, often curled up with a good book instead of out enjoying the sunshine. She graduated from Brigham Young University with a degree in elementary education and found it an excellent major with which to indulge her love of children’s literature.
Her first novel, Counting Stars, won the 2007 Whitney Award for Best Romance. Its companion novel, a romantic suspense titled All the Stars in Heaven, was a Whitney Award finalist, as was her first historical romance, Captive Heart. My Lucky Stars completed the Stars series.
In 2014 Michele launched the Hearthfire Historical Romance line, with the debut title, Saving Grace. Loving Helen is the companion novel, with a third, Marrying Christopher, followed by the companion novella Twelve Days in December.
When not reading or writing romance, Michele is busy with her full-time job as a wife and mother. She and her husband live in Utah with their five high-maintenance children, and a Shitzu that resembles a teddy bear, in a house with a wonderful view of the mountains.
You can find Michele on the web: http://MichelePaigeHolmes.com
Facebook: Michele Holmes
Twitter: @MichelePHolmes
Acknowledgments
A Promise for Tomorrow was months (years, in some ways) in the making, and I have many people to thank for their help in getting it from the initial ideas in my head to its final form on paper.
I am grateful to Brekke Felt for the beautiful photography for the covers of Yesterday’s Promise, A Promise for Tomorrow, and the upcoming The Promise of Home. Her ability to capture the Highland countryside (right here in Utah!) was much appreciated. I am also grateful to Rachael Anderson for her continued talents producing each of the beautiful Hearthfire covers. Thank you for putting up with my pickiness!
Cassidy Wadsworth Sorenson and Lisa Shepherd have become two of my favorite editors. They are both so thorough, and they excel at finding mistakes and ways to improve my stories. I am so grateful to each of them for making me look better than I am.
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