Everyone stepped back, forming a line, but the gate didn’t go up. Bryce ran up the steps to take a look for himself. By that time the single rider had come close enough that Bryce could see he was wearing McCurdy plaid.
The young McCurdy, Rory, if Bryce remembered correctly from the day of his wedding, held up a piece of paper. “I’ve a message for your laird,” he said.
Bryce could only imagine what bad news awaited them next.
…
Dorie put the finishing stitches on a tiny shirt for baby Aiden in the solar and smiled down at her work. It was nice to sit with Kenna and Mari and do something useful again.
There were many times she felt the urge to speak to them, to share something or ask a question. But she remained silent and felt like a fraud. She’d had good reason for not speaking when she was younger. As an adult living away from the McCurdys, she knew there was no danger in thanking her friends for saving her life and taking care of her. Or for doting over the new babe who slept in his mother’s arms.
The laird burst into the solar with a string of curses trailing behind.
“The children,” Kenna reminded him as two sets of wide blue eyes stared at their father in surprise. Lizzy began to cry and Mari frowned at her brother-in-law before pulling her daughter up into her lap with the babe.
Dorie had not seen Lachlan lose his temper in the whole time she’d been at Dunardry. She could see from everyone’s surprise it didn’t happen often. Dorie tried to make herself smaller in case his anger was directed at her.
“Forgive me, I’ve just gotten word from the McCurdy.” He held up a missive.
“What has happened?” Kenna asked.
“It has been more than two months since Dorie and Bryce wed, and we still hadn’t received word on a ship available to take goods to trade. I wrote to inquire on the delay and the bastard returned this.” He shook the paper again. “The blighter has gone back on his word. Nay, he says he never gave it in the first place.”
Kenna gasped and took the paper from her husband’s fist. Cam and Bryce stepped into the room, the three large men filling it to capacity.
“What is it that has you so angry?” Cam asked, taking Lizzy to calm her.
Kenna’s eyes flashed back and forth as she read the document. She looked up. “He says the wedding was not a true alliance because Wallace did it without his knowledge, and because Dorie is not even his daughter.”
All eyes turned to Dorie. Some with confusion, some with worry. Bryce’s were filled with compassion, for he knew the truth.
“His word is not worth the air he uses to speak it,” Cam said.
“’Tis not a lie,” Bryce said quietly, his gaze capturing hers. “I think it’s time you told them.”
She nodded. It was time they all knew the truth. Time they realized exactly who they’d let join their clan. She was no more than a murdering bastard.
Cam scolded his cousin, smacking Bryce in the shoulder. “Are ye daft? You know she canna tell us anything.”
Bryce’s gaze didn’t move from her. Instead he gave her an encouraging nod and came to kneel next to her. He took her hand, placing a kiss to her palm. “It’s time.”
She nodded.
Turning toward the group, she spoke to them aloud for the first time. “I’m sorry,” she said first, as it was the most important.
Mari gasped and Lach whispered a curse—though Dorie heard it easily enough in the silence that followed her first words to them.
Taking a deep breath, she launched into her story and didn’t stop until she reached the end, revealing how her words had caused her mother’s death and that she’d been secluded in silence until her marriage to Bryce.
“It’s true I’m not the laird’s daughter. I didn’t mean to deceive you. I had no idea he planned to use this knowledge to get out of his agreement. In truth, I wasn’t even aware of the agreement.”
“Of course you didn’t mislead anyone on purpose. No one blames you.” Kenna came to her side and wrapped her arm around Dorie’s shoulders. “Though you could have told me you can talk,” she added in a whisper.
“My sister is not one for secrets,” Mari said with a laugh. “Unless she’s on the side that’s keeping them.”
Dorie looked up at the laird. “I should have spoken sooner, but I was afraid you’d turn me out. And I didn’t want to have to go back there.”
“I wouldn’t have allowed it,” Bryce said sharply.
“Oh? You wouldn’t have allowed it?” Lachlan tilted his head.
“No. I wouldn’t have.” Bryce stared at his cousin in a silent challenge.
Dorie didn’t want to be a point of contention between them and quickly said, “I’m afraid I’m just the bastard daughter of a certain Captain Dorien Sutherland, for whom I was named.” She hung her head and prayed they wouldn’t run her out of the castle. This was the first place she’d felt at home since her mother died. If only she’d remained silent back then, perhaps her mother would still be alive. And the MacKinlays would have their alliance.
A hush followed her confession for only a few seconds. Marian was the first to speak. “My God,” she said with a frown.
Dorie bit her lip. Of anyone, she had thought the kindhearted Marian would be most accepting of her situation. After all, she’d murdered a duke with her own hands.
Cam went to his wife. “It’s fine, love. We’ll find another way.”
“No. It’s not the agreement. It’s— I’ve met Captain Dorien Sutherland.” She looked at Dorie and then broke into a smile. “I know your father.”
Chapter Sixteen
Bryce was glad to be standing close to Dorie, for she looked like she might fall over at Mari’s announcement. “You know him?” he asked.
“I shouldn’t say I know him, exactly. But we’ve met. I was introduced to him and his wife when I lived in London.”
“What… What is he like?” Dorie asked timidly.
“He’s no longer a captain, for one thing. He’s a viscount. Viscount Rutherford. If I recall, he was a second or third son, but the elder brothers passed quite a while ago, so he’s had the title for some time now.”
“My father is a viscount?” Dorie’s voice cracked, and she swayed.
Bryce wrapped an arm around her waist, then guided her back to her seat and settled her next to Marian.
“Yes.” Mari tilted her head to the side, studying Dorie. “You look like him. Now that I know it, I see it clear as day. You have the same coloring. Same eyes.”
Dorie clenched her hands together in front of her chest. “What is he like?” she repeated. “Is he kind or is he…like the McCurdy?”
Mari’s brows creased as she shook her head. “I’ve only met him briefly, but he seemed a nice enough man.” She rested her index finger along her chin. “We could write to him if you wish.”
“Oh, yes. Please.”
Bryce cut in then. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” He crossed his arms.
All eyes in the room landed on him as they waited for him to explain himself. It took a moment for him to figure out why he was opposed to the notion. He was as surprised as everyone else when he answered. “He may not acknowledge you, no matter how much you look alike. I’ll not have you reach out just to be brushed aside. It’s not worth it. You’ve been through enough already.”
She placed her hand on his and squeezed. “I haven’t been accepted by the man I called father for most of my life, so if this man doesn’t want to acknowledge me, I’ll not be any worse off.”
“I don’t want to see you hurt,” he said quietly, despite the other people in the room.
“But I will always wonder.” She gave him a look of longing, and he knew he couldn’t forbid her anything.
He understood why she would be willing to take a risk for a connection. He would want the same thing if he f
ound himself in a similar situation. And someone like Dorie, who had spent years hoping for someone to love her, would not be stopped. Besides, he wasn’t an overbearing arse who would keep a woman from finding her real father.
He gave a nod—not that she actually required his approval.
“Excellent,” Mari said with a bright smile. “We’ll write to him after supper.”
…
Dorie could barely sit still through the evening meal. She was so excited she only managed to eat a few bites.
Bryce spared her an indulgent smile when they were finished eating and she jumped up to head to the solar that had been turned into a nursery. Would she and Bryce have a child here soon? She loved the way the sisters visited while the children played together. They were there when disputes broke out, and to rock the little ones to sleep for their naps. Since there were now more children than mothers, Dorie was happy to lend her arms where needed. But today she silently wished the children would cooperate with bedtime.
It seemed to take forever for Mari to have a moment to collect the things needed to send a letter to Dorie’s father. She tried her best to be patient since her friend had given birth to a rather large baby recently, but still wished she’d hurry. Dorie had so many questions, and so much to say to her father.
“What should we write?” Mari asked, quill poised at the paper.
All the words and questions seemed to flit right out of Dorie’s head as doubt crept in. What if Bryce was right and her father didn’t want to know her? What could she say to make him change his mind? She must think carefully and choose the perfect words.
It took them a few hours and many attempts to complete the letter to her father. In the end, she allowed Mari to take the lead and keep the letter to the facts instead of getting into too many details.
She hugged Mari as the letter was sealed and put aside to be sent out.
As Dorie walked to her chamber, she still couldn’t imagine being related to a viscount. She was still chatting about it when she and Bryce went to bed that night.
“A viscount. Do you think he’ll bother to write back? What if he has other children, and I’m just an annoyance?” She gasped. “If he has other children, then I’m a sister. By blood.”
“We’ll have to wait and see,” Bryce said vaguely, the way he’d answered the last hundred questions she’d asked. She barely noticed when he put Rascal out of the room so they were alone.
“I suppose there’s no harm in trying. If he’s too busy, it would be understand—” Her words were cut off when Bryce’s lips came down on hers. He kissed her until she moaned and rubbed against him, her heart pounding. He nipped at her bottom lip and pulled away to smile down at her.
“Enough talking about the man. He’ll either write you back or he won’t. For now, I will do my best to distract you.”
She laughed as he lowered his head to kiss her jaw and then her neck. He continued lower, as he pulled down her shift, exposing her breasts. He sucked in a nipple and ran his tongue over her tightened flesh while his fingers found their way to that special place just for him.
Soon she felt the familiar tension building in her core. It wouldn’t take much to push her over into that place where she ceased to exist. Where there was only pleasure and light.
Before she reached that place, he stopped. When she groaned her disappointment, the wretch chuckled.
“Steady, lass, I’ll see you’re taken care of, but we have all night.”
She relaxed at the truth of his words. Many nights one of them would wake and reach for the other. They would join in the darkness quietly. Taking and sharing when needed.
He rolled on his back, taking her with him, and she smiled down into his cocky grin. At first she thought it a great honor to be given the position of power, but when Bryce crossed his arms behind his head and settled in, she realized she’d been tricked.
“Ye lazy beast,” she teased as she slid him inside her.
He sucked in a quick breath when she was seated, and then a devilish smile took over his face. “Aye. You’ve found me out. Should I apologize?” he asked while pressing up from the bed to fill her completely.
She didn’t think an apology was necessary.
She rocked her body on top of his, sometimes moving quickly, sometimes moving so slowly he groaned in frustration and pushed up. In the end, when he’d finished with play, he grabbed hold of her hips and thrust into her, causing her to reach her pleasure and cry out.
She crumpled on top of him, her ear over his heart where it beat so fast she feared it might burst. “Am I a good lover?” she asked, curious to know.
He chuckled, the sound echoing through his chest to her ear. “You are better than good. You are the greatest of lovers.”
The greatest? She didn’t say anything as his body tensed under hers. Perhaps he had just realized what he’d said. For it sounded as if he was saying she was somehow a better lover than Maggie.
Surely that couldn’t be true. No doubt Maggie was great as well. That must have been the case. It seemed as such to hear him speak of her. The way she haunted him still. Dorie didn’t let that bother her. She held on to the compliment with joy in her heart.
“Thank you, Bryce. I think you’re the greatest as well.”
…
Had Bryce just told Dorie she was the greatest lover he’d had? He rubbed his temple as she lay sprawled across his chest in bliss, and thought over his words.
He hadn’t said it exactly that way, but he understood what his words implied. He’d said Dorie was the greatest. What was worse, it was true. From a purely physical way, at least.
His heart would only ever belong to one woman, but his body stirred even now for Dorie.
For a moment he thought he’d spoken hastily because he’d not been thinking steadily, but that wasn’t the case. He knew as he held her while his breathing came back to normal that what he’d said was true.
Dorie was an uninhibited and responsive lover. He’d not had a partner long enough to learn what pleased her since Maggie. So discovering Dorie’s hidden pleasures excited him. She touched him where she pleased and cried out in desire when he touched her.
He refused to compare his wives. It wasn’t fair to either of them and served no purpose. Dorie was the wife that was here with him now, so he would do her the honor of being with her and her alone while they were in bed together.
He kissed her hair and then her temple. She raised her head to smile at him and slid her leg over his, pressing her hips against his thigh.
“I have been blessed with a lustful wife,” he uttered as his hand trailed over her back to grasp her buttock.
“And I am blessed with a dutiful husband.” She giggled against his neck, the sound stirring him to action.
Over the following weeks, Bryce allowed himself to be happy. The pain of Maggie’s loss was still there, strong and unrelenting, but he was able to see past it to the life he had before him.
Dorie was a kind woman, beautiful and funny. He would take her treats he wrangled from the kitchen or look for her in the hall, hoping to catch a glimpse of her smile. She was always smiling these days. And when he got her alone in their room, they came together as if they were made for each other.
He thought if he had met her first, he would have easily loved her. Occasionally he even thought he might now.
Thanks to poor weather, he wasn’t able to travel to the Campbells yet, so it was an easy thing to stay inside with his wife as the snow piled up outside in the hills.
She only left the safety of the castle when she was with him. They’d seen no sign of a McCurdy on their lands. Yet he continued to use the excuse to go with her when she went to visit Mari and Cam and to exercise her giant hound. It seemed the mutt had finally stopped growing when his head reached Bryce’s waist.
One afternoon when they’d left Cam
and Mari’s place it started snowing again. Their feet squeaked in the wet snow on the ground. Bryce swiped a snowflake from Dorie’s top lip, making her laugh. He loved to hear her laugh, even now when it was muffled by the snow falling around them.
He bent to steal another snowflake from her skin, but she squealed and ran. He chased after her and fell on top of her when she tripped in a drift. Once she was thoroughly trapped, he kissed her relentlessly while she squirmed under him.
She held him back by his ears, a wide grin on her face when he finally gave up and stilled.
“Thank you for marrying me, Bryce,” she said, the smile fading into seriousness.
The moment would have been perfect for him to respond in kind, but he said nothing. He was frozen, and not from the snow.
But from terror.
He was happy.
Which meant any day now, fate would come to take everything away.
…
Dorie put on her best gown and fixed her hair into a design Mari had shown her. Bryce was clean and in his best shirt and kilt. His blond hair was still damp and curling on the ends. Fortunately the new year had brought warmer temperatures, so he’d not have icicles.
“Are you sure my gift will do?” she asked as she fretted over the tied bundle.
“It’s beautiful. They will love it.”
She had worked hard on the embroidered pillow covering she’d made for Mari and Cam’s new home. Bryce’s words of praise put her mind at ease, and his following kiss had her wishing they could stay in their chamber rather than go to the other couple’s new home for supper with the whole family.
Bryce helped her up on his horse and nuzzled her neck most of the way.
She’d come to love the trip between Dunardry and the manor house. Bryce was usually unable to keep his lips off her for the entire journey.
“Stop it, or I’ll arrive flushed and they’ll wonder what we were doing along the way.”
“They won’t wonder.” He laughed. “But rest assured, I won’t risk wrinkles to your pretty gown, though I make no promises on the way home in the privacy of the trees.”
Her Reluctant Highlander Husband (Clan MacKinlay) Page 13