The Highlander’s Runaway (Blood of Duncliffe Series) (A Medieval Scottish Romance Story)
Page 20
“Yes?” Claudine asked. “Name it. And if it's in my power to give it, you have it.”
“Well,” Prudence looked at her toes, aware, seemingly, that the whole table was staring, waiting for her answer. “Well, begging your pardon, but I want leave to stay here. We've not been here long, but already this place seems home, like.” She looked at Claudine, beaming, then down at the floor.
Claudine laughed. Of all the things she had expected – jewelry, gold, even a cottage – she had not expected something so easy to grant! She shook her head, sighing. “Prudence, of course you may stay. I would miss you far too much if you didn't. But I think we can do better than that.”
She discussed it with Douglas, after Prudence had gone. He agreed to give her a cottage on the estate, where she and her family could live in perpetuity, without rent. Marguerite agreed too.
“It's the least we can do.”
After that was settled, talk moved to other things. Claudine found herself confiding in Brogan and Reid the information Merrick had given her.
“And she thinks Mother can be made well?”
“Yes, Reid,” Claudine nodded, swallowing. “That is what she said. If we do those things. I believe it is possible.”
“Well, then,” Reid said, nodding. “I will take word to her. I'm due to return to England in two months.”
Claudine closed her eyes, not wanting to weep. “Thank you, brother,” she said. “Thank you so much.”
Later, when the guests had all gone and she and Brogan were settled in a chamber – larger and more comfortable than the one she'd occupied here when she'd arrived – they talked quietly together.
“Of course,” Brogan agreed, kissing her hand. “That's easy to do.”
Claudine swallowed, turning to face him. “Oh, Brogan,” she said softly. “Thank you. That means a great deal to me.”
“It's the least I can do,” he said softly.
She turned toward him and they slept.
EPILOGUE
The sky outside the window was soft with grayed sunlight. Claudine looked out on it, feeling content and peaceful. She stretched, feeling cramped where she sat in the chair. It was spring, though the days were still cold. She turned to the doorway.
“You checked the field?”
“I did,” Brogan said, leaning back in the seat, comfortably, settled before the fire. He stretched, a contented smile on his face. “They're growing well. I fully expect shoots to show soon.”
“Oh?” Claudine frowned. She didn't know much about crops, but the new growth of wheat on the fields was promising. The land here on the slope was not known for its yield, and it was impressive that it was starting to grow fruitfully.
“Well, it looks that way,” Brogan shrugged. “It's good to be checking the fields again. Seeing your crops grow...tending the farmlands...it does you good.”
“I imagine so.”
Brogan chuckled. “Well, it's good for the head. But for the heart? There's something I know that nothing can surpass.”
Claudine blushed. His brown eyes twinkled merrily, inspecting hers. She looked down, heart thudding.
“Well, I know that well,” she said. “Seeing you makes my heart sing.”
“Och, lass.”
He took her hand and held it. They sat quietly, the only sound in the small turret room the crackling of the fire. They sat there for a long moment, not speaking. Then he stood and joined her on the wide seat before the fire. Arms around her, he sat, the silence supporting them.
She rested her head on his shoulder, content in the warmth of his presence. She smiled, feeling a real happiness flowing through her. The new life within her was well established, and they had discussed names already. Douglas, for a boy. Ettie, for a girl.
She leaned against Brogan, lost in happy thoughts. As she sat there, planning a new gown to make for the babe, footsteps sounded in the hallway.
“Milady?”
“Bonnie!” Claudine smiled, seeing her friend there. “What is it?”
“Begging your pardon, milady, but I wanted you to come and see. In the garden?”
Claudine frowned, and then nodded, standing. “Of course, Bonnie. And I wanted to ask how the sewing is progressing?”
“Well, milady,” Bonnie nodded. “Though I'm not the best at sewing, milady.”
Claudine smiled. Since Bonnie and Albert had moved to the manor, the whole outlook of the place had changed. Albert had been shocked by the techniques here, and brought his knowledge of growing things to the slopes. It was under his teachings that the farms were coming back to life. Bonnie had joined the household as a servant and seamstress, but Claudine had, with her skills in mind, brought her up for another reason. She followed her down now to the garden with that in mind.
“Milady, I thought you'd like to be the first to see...and I could scarce believe it..!” she said, sounding absolutely surprised.
“Well, I'm glad you called me,” Claudine replied. “But what is it?”
“Here, milady,” Bonnie said, stepping back into the shade of a tree. “Just stand here.”
Claudine did as she was bidden, stopping beneath the spreading shade of a lilac tree. She looked out across the garden. She stared.
There, under the trees, by the big bench that stood there, was a figure. Not tall, but upright, and gaunt, the figure stood, looking out into the brighter light.
Claudine felt tears streaking down her cheeks. Bedridden for years, unable to walk more than two steps without tiring, her mother stood there, on her own, the sunlight glowing on her.
She caught Bonnie's eye, and her friend nodded, her own eyes welling tears.
Brought here as her mother's nursemaid, Bonnie had been taking careful charge of her, making sure she had plenty of care as well as overseeing the carrying out of Merrick's prescriptions.
Now, Claudine stared in amazement as her mother stood, on her own, in the morning haze. She seemed to sense a watcher, for she turned and saw Claudine standing there.
“Daughter,” she said, her face – older than her years, lined with pain – broke into a smile. “Claudine! How lovely.”
Claudine nodded, swallowing tears, as she walked to where her mother stood.
Her mother walked toward her, one pace, then another, and then they embraced, and around them the morning rose.
Because when we find our hearts, we find the key to many other secrets; and following them sets our feet once again upon our path.
Join My VIP Readers’ Club List
Who Else Wants to New Cover Reveals, Short Flash Fictions, Characters’ Interviews and much more…
Emilia Ferguson invites you to join her VIP Readers’ Club List. CLICK HERE TO JOIN NOW!
ALSO BY EMILIA FERGUSON
Lairds of Dunkeld Series
Book 1 Link -> Heart Of A Highlander
Book 2 Link -> The Highlander’s Challenge
Book 3 Link -> The Highland Hero
Book 4 Link - > The Cursed Highlander
Book 5 Link - > The Highlander’s Dilemma
Book 6 Link -> The Highlander’s Awakening
Book 7 Link -> The Highland Secret Agent
Book 8 Link -> A Highlander’s Terror
Book 9 Link -> Soul Of A Highlander
Book 10 Link -> Courage Of A Highlander
Blood of Duncliffe Series
Book 1 Link -> The Highlander’s Trust
Book 2 Link -> Destiny Of A Highlander
Book 3 Link -> Highland Love Prevails
Book 4 Link -> Love For A Reluctant Highland Lass
Book 5 Link -> Shadowy Highland Romance
Book 6 Link -> The Highlander’s Runaway
.
Acknowledgement
Thank you for taking your time and energy to read “The Highlander’s Runaway”. Without your continuous support, I would not have written this book.
Wherever you are, I appreciate you from the bottom of my heart. I also want to thank my wonderful Facebook fans, my ad
vance copy reviewers and beta readers in advance for making this series a success.
~ Emilia
If You Have Enjoyed This Book…
…. We would really, really appreciate it if you would help us tell other readers how much you have enjoyed this book by leaving us a review. To us, reviews are like little gold pieces and they help persuade other readers to give the novels a chance. More readers will encourage our authors to write more quality novels, and that means we will continue to produce highly-entertaining stories. Please give your unbiased reviews by CLICKING HERE.
Publisher’s Notes
Copyright © 2017, 2018, 2019 by EMILIA FERGUSON
This book is a work of fiction. Any similarities to real or dead people, places, or events are not intentional and are the result of coincidence. The characters, places, and events are the product of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously. All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior written permission from the author/publisher. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.