How to Forgive a Highlander (MacGregor Lairds)

by Michelle McLean

  “But not really.”

  “Aye, they are. And they may wish to remain so.”

  Rose’s slight frown was full of skepticism. “I find that difficult to believe.”

  “Why?” He tried to ignore the burst of anger that statement created. “Is it so hard to believe an English lass would want to marry a savage Scot, as ye seem fond of calling us?”

  Rose chewed at her lip and then sighed again. “Once I would have said yes. But now…” She laughed, but there was little amusement in the sound. “I don’t know, Will.”

  He sat up and cupped her face, drawing her to him for a soft kiss. “Ye dinna believe our two sides can live together in peace?”

  “In peace? No.”

  He laughed and kissed her forehead, pulling her onto his lap so he could wrap his arms about her. “Ye ken well enough what I meant.”

  “Yes, I know what you meant,” she said, playing absently with the hairs on his chest. “But it’s not just the two of us. You and I, if we were alone in the world. Yes. I think we could make it work. I hope we could.”

  His arms tightened about her, though he sensed she wasn’t done with what she had to say. And he knew he wouldn’t like the rest.

  “But we aren’t alone. And me in your world, or you in mine… I don’t see how that works.”

  “Malcolm and John and their ladies are happy enough.”

  “Yes. But they are in a much different station. They are more at liberty to break the rules.”

  Will opened his mouth to argue but she shook her head. “No, Will, you know I’m right. You saw how it is yourself when you were with Ramsay’s men. You were never really trusted, were you? Never quite one of the group. And I’ve seen how people are since I’ve been in Scotland. Even at Kirkenroch. The maids stop laughing when I enter the room. They are polite enough, but they make it clear I’m not one of them.”

  Will frowned, wanting to argue. But she wasn’t wrong. Then again, he didn’t care if she was wrong or not. He cared only about her.

  “They would grow used to ye in time. They’d see ye could be trusted, no matter that ye’re an English lass. Or if ye canna bear to be away from yer home, then I’d find a place there.”

  “In England? Away from your clan, your kin? Philip, John? John can’t ever return to England. And Philip…well, he’s better off not returning, either. If you wish to remain in their service, then your place is here.”

  “My place is with ye,” he said, smoothing her hair back and drawing her in for a kiss.

  “Will,” she murmured against his lips.

  “No more talking, lass. Let’s leave the world behind for a little longer.”

  She threaded her fingers through his hair and held him fast to her. “Make me forget then, Will. I want to think of only you.”

  “Yer wish is my command, my lady.”

  And he spent the next couple hours showing her exactly how wonderful their world together could be.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Will didn’t expect to see anyone for at least another day. Despite Rob’s determination to reach Kirkenroch, the lad had been injured. The journey would take a healthy man the better part of a day. So it was with a great deal of surprise, and disappointment, that he heard the sound of a group of men riding toward them.

  “Ho there!” someone shouted.

  Rose jumped up from where she’d been stirring whatever concoction she’d been planning on force-feeding him and stood, knife in hand, ready to battle whoever disturbed them.

  He smiled, his heart breaking a little at the sight of his fierce lass, ready to defend him despite their troubles.

  “Looks like the lad made it to Kirkenroch after all,” he said, putting a hand on hers to gently lower the dagger.

  She glanced up at him, surprised. “It couldn’t be him already, could it?”

  Will pointed out the door where Rob was pushing through the trees, leading two other men who each led a horse. Will lifted a hand and waved. Then held up a finger to indicate they would be a moment. Rob nodded and conferred with the other men.

  Will moved closer to Rose, his body blocking her from view, and bent his head so only she would hear him. “We could tell them to go away. Stay here the rest of our days.”

  A sad smile touched her lips, and her head bowed. “You would be content with that?”

  “If ye were with me? Aye.”

  She looked at him then, her eyes bright with tears. “Damn you for the devil you are, tempting me with a paradise I cannot have.” Her soft smile took away any sting her words might have bestowed. Then she shook her head. “You wouldn’t be truly happy. And neither would I.”

  He frowned and rubbed a thumb across her lips. “Would we no’?”

  “In some ways, perhaps. In many ways.” That blush he so loved stained her cheeks, and it was all he could do to not pull her into his arms, slam the door, and let the rest of the world be damned.

  “But I have my lady,” she said. “And you have your laird. And I don’t think either of us would rest easy knowing our place should be at their sides.”

  “Aye.” He sighed and hugged her to him. “Well, then. I suppose we should go and let everyone know we yet live.”

  She hugged him tight, sending bolts of pain shooting through him that he ignored. He’d happily stand in a raging fire if it meant he could feel her touch. She pulled away far too soon and went back into the cottage.

  She spent a few minutes gathering up the things she wanted to take back to the manor with them. He stood at the door, simply watching her. If he did nothing else for the rest of his life but watch her, he’d die a happy man.

  When they were ready to go, he helped her mount her horse, and it took all his willpower not to mount behind her. It would be a slow ride back to the manor. One they should probably split over two days, but no one wanted to linger. Even if it meant riding through the night, as long as he could sit a horse, they’d continue on until they reached Kirkenroch’s gates.

  Part of him wanted to take as much time as possible. Feign weakness and insist on stopping. Truth be told, he wouldn’t have to pretend much. His side pulled and burned as if someone were pressing a branding iron to it. But the longer the journey took, the more time he had with Rose before they must part ways for good.

  Then again, it would only mean prolonging the pain. No, they couldn’t know for sure what Philip and Lady Alice meant to do until they reached the manor. And even then…he still didn’t know. His place was at Kirkenroch with John. If John would even have him. And Rose longed for England and her home. Even if Alice were to stay, he didn’t think Rose truly wished to.

  Facing an unknown future was making his mind spin in dizzying circles. The one constant was the very real possibility he would lose Rose forever. He spurred his horse faster, welcoming the pain that shot through his side. It took his mind off the pain that was rending his heart.

  They rode all day, pushing harder than they should. The sun had set hours before and still they’d pressed on. A quarter hour more of hard riding and they would be there. The sooner they reached Kirkenroch, the sooner they could end this torture. One way or the other.

  …

  Rose watched as Will kicked his horse into a run, and she swore under her breath. He’d been keeping them at a brisk pace all day. She would have preferred they take it slow. Savor what time they had left together. And perhaps make it to the manor without undoing all her hard work healing him.

  Yet, he hadn’t spoken to her since they’d left the cottage. And now it seemed he was so eager to be quit of her that he was willing to break his neck to do it. It was all she could do to keep from urging her horse to follow. Mostly so she could throttle him for endangering himself again. The man was insane. He would probably reopen his wound and bleed to death on the side of the road. It would serve him right.

  But the thought still drove a shard of terror straight through her heart. She nudged her horse into a run and followed him, ignoring the startled sho
uts of Rob and the others.

  He turned in the saddle when he heard her coming up behind him, but instead of slowing down, he smiled and spurred his horse faster.

  “Idiot,” she said, her blood racing. She leaned forward and followed, holding onto her horse for dear life. The others thundered behind her but she ignored them. The only one she cared about was Will. She needed to catch up with him. So she could kill him.

  He didn’t slow his speed until the manor came into view. She was right behind him as they cantered into the courtyard. Stable hands came out to help with the horses, and a few others went scurrying into the house, most likely to alert the laird and lady of their return. Rose ignored them all. She had eyes for only William, who was dismounting so stiffly it was as if he had a tree branch lodged up his arse.

  He dropped to his feet, and she didn’t miss the grimace of pain that crossed his face. She didn’t wait for help herself but slung her leg over her horse’s back and slid down in a flurry of skirts and righteous anger.

  His hand held his wounded side as he marched up the stairs leading into the house. He seemed much less steady on his feet than he had yesterday.

  “William!” she shouted, her fists clenched at her side.

  He ignored her, and she hurried after him.

  She stopped just inside the doors to catch her breath. Will kept making his way through the Great Hall toward the staircase that led to the family’s quarters.

  “William!” she shouted again.

  He stopped this time and turned, looking at her expectantly as if she hadn’t been chasing him for the better part of an hour.

  “Are you out of your mind?” she asked, marching toward him. “What were you thinking? Are you trying to get yourself killed? I can’t believe you—”

  She stopped short, belatedly realizing she’d stormed past Laird John and Lady Elizabet.

  “I’m so sorry, my lord, my lady.” She dropped a quick curtsy. “I…”

  John had his arms crossed across his chest but looked absolutely delighted with the whole situation, beaming at them both. Lady Elizabet looked just as amused. She simply smiled and said, “Don’t mind us. You and he…” She waved Rose toward William.

  “Agreed,” John said. “By all means, continue.”

  Rose frowned, a bit confused but honestly too worked up about Will’s foolhardiness to focus on them too much. She turned back to Will who scowled at John.

  “Dinna start with me, cousin,” he said. “There’s nothing to be amused at. And there’s certainly nothing to be concerned about so dinna encourage her—”

  That snapped Rose out of her momentary confusion. “Nothing to be concerned about? With you bleeding all over their floor?”

  Will glanced down at his shirt, which was indeed stained with blood. He scowled. “Och, it’s naught—”

  “Don’t you it’s naught me,” Rose said. “I didn’t spend almost a month saving your life so you could kill yourself within two minutes of arriving home. Now sit down,” she said, pointing to a chair near the hearth. Then she pointed at one of the people who had gathered to stare at them, mouths agape. “You, fetch me some water and clean cloths and something I can use for a bandage.”

  He didn’t move until she rounded on him, hands on her hips. Then he held up his hands in surrender, a bemused expression on his face that had her both softening toward him and wanting to throttle him at the same time.

  “Sit,” she ordered.

  He sank into the chair and she got to work tending him, muttering under her breath the whole time.

  She vaguely noticed John and Elizabet sitting nearby, clearly waiting for explanations. But she ignored everyone while she knelt by his side and redressed his wounds. Once she was done, she sat back on her heels and raised a trembling hand to brush a few strands of hair from her face.

  It seemed like the last month was finally catching up to her. She wanted to laugh and cry and scream and curse. And, since she could do none of those things, she sat and trembled, trying to focus on breathing.

  “Rose,” Will said, in the same soft and caring voice he used only when they were alone together.

  She wouldn’t look up at him. Couldn’t. Or she’d lose what little composure she had managed to maintain.

  “Why did you do that?” she asked, hating how small her voice sounded. “Why did you rush so quickly to return that you reinjured yourself? Do you really hate me so much?”

  “Oh, Rose.” He took her chin between his fingers and tilted her face up so she had to look at him. “I could never hate ye. Quite the opposite. I just want the torture to end.”

  She pulled her face from his grasp with a mirthless laugh. “I know we don’t get along, but torture is a bit strong a word, isn’t it?” She shook her head and stood, but he followed and caught her hand before she could leave.

  “That’s no’ what I meant. We couldna ken anything until we got back home. We didna ken how matters stood here, with Philip and his lady, and the rest. So I simply wanted to get here.”

  “Will,” she said, shaking her head. “We’ve discussed this. My place is back in London with Lady Alice, yours with your laird. Even if they choose to remain together…”

  “Aye, ye’ve told me. Ye’re English, I’m Scottish. I dinna care. I dinna think ye really do either. It’s an excuse because ye’re too scared.”

  “Scared? Me?”

  “Aye. You. What would ye say if Lady Alice walked in right now and told ye that she was madly in love with Philip and staying here for the rest of her days?”

  Rose frowned, her heart thumping painfully. What would she say? Part of her would be shouting for joy. But yes, another part was terrified.

  “See?” he said, triumphantly. “Even the mere thought of no obstacles makes ye frown and chew yer lip.”

  “Do you really think we’d have no obstacles even if Lady Alice were to stay? We can’t even go an hour without fighting like cats and dogs.”

  “Aye, and ye love every second of it. Next?”

  “I do not love every second of it.”

  Except, she definitely did. But was that any way to have a relationship?

  He snorted, which she ignored. “And besides,” she said, “Even if Lady Alice remains here, that doesn’t mean she’s staying with Philip, and if she does, that doesn’t mean they will live here. What if they wish to travel the continent or move to London or…?”

  She frowned, looking around. “Where is Lady Alice?”

  Elizabet smiled and waved at them. “As I’ve been trying to say…”

  Rose blushed furiously, only now realizing Lady Elizabet had been trying to say something for several minutes now.

  “My pardon, my lady,” Rose said.

  Elizabet waved her apology away. “I hated to interrupt, but I do have some information that might make a difference. Alice and Philip are staying together. They left here not long ago to sail for London.”

  “London?” Will said with a slight frown.

  Rose turned to him, an icy ball of despair already forming in her heart. Her lady had returned home without her. She should follow. Immediately. Her place was with Lady Alice and to be home again… She missed it dreadfully. But she would miss Scotland, too. And some parts of it—she stared at William—she’d never get over leaving.

  He took a deep breath and straightened, giving her a slow, steady smile that pierced straight through to her soul. Then he took her hand and led her over to John.

  “I pledged ye my loyalty and service, but I must ask yer leave to return to London.”

  John’s eyes widened in surprise, and Rose gasped. “What are you doing?” she asked, pulling on his hand. But he only drew her in to his side and tucked her arm against him, holding their clasped hands up to his lips for a kiss before resting them on his chest, above his heart.

  He pressed another kiss to her forehead and then leaned closer to whisper to her. “I love ye with everything that I am, my darling Rose. Thorns and all.”

 
He looked back to John. “My Rose’s place is at her lady’s side. And my place is with Rose. If she must return to London, then I wish to go with her.”

  “Will,” Rose said, a sob catching in her throat. “You don’t have to do this.”

  “Aye, I do, lass. And I’m glad to do it.” He laughed, genuine happiness beaming from his face. “It’s the first decision I’ve ever made that I’m no’ afraid will backfire in my face.” He stroked a thumb across her cheek. “Ye’ll always be my best decision.”

  Elizabet clasped her hands together and leaned against her husband. “That is the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard,” she said, wiping at her suddenly teary eyes. Then she laughed. “I’m sorry. After the baby, everything seems to make me so emotional.”

  John laughed and patted his wife’s back. “Will, ye’re free to go wherever ye’d like. And I’d be sad to see ye go, certainly, but—”

  Will didn’t let him finish. He turned to Rose. “Marry me, lass.”

  Rose sucked in a breath and then let it out with a laugh. She didn’t know whether to cry for joy or smack some sense into him. “We can’t get married just like that.”

  “Why not?”

  “We’ve known each other only a short time.”

  “Aye. And?”

  She shook her head. “You’re mad.”

  “Well, I love ye, so aye, that seems apt.”

  Her mouth dropped open, and he laughed again. She crossed her arms and shook her head. “If I say yes, we’ll probably both regret it the rest of our lives.”

  “Why? Because we canna go an hour without fighting?”

  “To begin with.”

  He pulled her to him so quickly she yelped in surprise and held onto him for dear life. He nuzzled her neck, whispering so only she could hear. “Aye, but after the fighting comes the loving. The fighting just gives it a bit more passion, aye?”

  That startled a laugh out of her, and her cheeks flamed. She pulled back so she could look into his eyes. “Is this really what you want? Am I?”

  He smiled down at her. “More than anything.”

  “Even if you have to live in London to have me?”