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Her Reluctant Highlander Husband (Clan MacKinlay)

Page 23

by Hanson, Allison B.

“You are?” She turned to face her father.

  “I hate to see you so unhappy. I thought it best to carry out our plan so perhaps you could find someone else. Someone who can give you his heart.”

  “Bryce hasn’t signed the annulment?” she said, hating the way the words squeaked when she spoke. She tried not to hope. Was there a reason for the delay? Had he changed his mind?

  “I expect it any day,” her father said assuredly.

  “Unless he changed his mind.” She mentally calculated the time she’d been in England at the estate and then in town and now back in Durham. Surely it should have arrived by now.

  “It may have been delayed when we left London.”

  She nodded and felt her shoulders slump as the hope left her once again.

  He let out a breath and pulled her to him. “I’m sorry you’re hurting. I tell you, if he were here right now I’d run him through for breaking your heart. You deserve happiness, and I’ll spend the rest of my days seeing that you find someone who’s good enough for you.”

  She smiled. “Thank you, Papa.”

  While she loved her father and knew he wanted the best for her, the thought of him hurting Bryce caused a flare of mutiny. She didn’t blame Bryce for her pain. He’d been honest from the beginning about not wanting their marriage. She’d seen the struggle in his eyes between duty and emotion. And later, between longing and loyalty.

  She thought he’d wanted to love her in the end, but neither of them were in charge of their hearts. No one could help loving someone, and no one could force another to love them when there wasn’t anything to give.

  “I know it may not seem like it at the moment, but you will feel better, in time,” her father said. “Hearts do have a way of healing so we’re able to go on living.”

  She knew it was possible. She’d seen the way Bryce managed to go on living with half a heart. Even her father had a sadness in his eyes she knew was from missing her mother.

  She had no doubt her heart would continue to beat. That she would go on living, just as her father said. But finding happiness was another matter.

  And at the moment that felt impossible.

  …

  Bryce frowned at his father as the man slurred a sloppy invitation to one of the serving maids. It was clear from her frown the lass was used to dodging the man’s advances.

  “Leave her be, you sot,” Bryce ordered. “I can’t imagine how you would forget you’re married, having done it so many times.”

  Thomas snorted and shook his head before taking another swallow of ale. “I keep trying to get it back,” he said.

  “Get what back?”

  “The way I felt with your mother. She was the one. The others were simply ways to forget how much I love and miss her.”

  Bryce swallowed, hating that he and his father had anything in common. “Do you remember Ma’s smile or her laugh?”

  The man’s eyes grew watery as he shook his head. “Nay. It’s lost to the years.” He slammed his hand on the table. Drink was known to make men more emotional, but it was clear his father still hurt for Bryce’s mother. They’d come up with two complete opposite ways to cope with their grief.

  Except Bryce’s form of grief didn’t hurt anyone. Except Dorie. And himself. Still… “It doesn’t seem fair to your other wives.” While he spoke of his father’s situation, he knew he was referring to his own relationship with Dorie. It wasn’t fair to want her when he couldn’t love her fully. She deserved more, and he hoped she’d found it in England.

  The ale tasted bitter when he swallowed. Or perhaps it was that he wasn’t truly happy for Dorie. He just needed a little more time.

  He’d done the right thing to let her go. To sign the annulment so she would be free to find a man who could love her the way she ought to be loved.

  “It wasn’t fair to you, either.” His father’s head fell closer to his chest. It wouldn’t be long before he would be asleep until late the next morning.

  Bryce might get an honest answer from him, if he only dared to ask. “What wasn’t fair to me?”

  “I sent you away so I wouldn’t have to look at you. Seeing you reminded me too much of her. You have her coloring and her heart. I couldn’t stand it. So I sent you away so you wouldn’t be a constant reminder.”

  The man was right about the coloring. Bryce had his mother’s fair hair and green eyes. But he didn’t have her heart. Maybe at one time he did, but not anymore.

  He didn’t have a heart at all.

  And he’d sent Dorie away because she’d made him feel again when he hadn’t thought it possible. She’d made him laugh and smile. She’d made him want and need.

  And then she’d left him.

  No. She hadn’t left.

  He’d sent her away.

  Maybe he was his father’s son, after all.

  …

  Bryce managed a visit with Walter the next morning. The man was well and spoke of his daughter with a fond smile rather than heart-crushing pain. Bryce wondered how he managed it, but didn’t ask.

  While he was with Walter, he’d received word the laird was attending to clan business today, so Bryce headed up to the castle. He hoped to be on his way home directly after delivering his message and securing an alliance with the laird. He wanted to get home. He had a battle to prepare for. His men were ready, but they would run through drills until the day before they left.

  An older woman carrying a basket out of a cottage stumbled and dropped her load as he made his way up the path. He stopped to help her gather her things. She looked up to thank him, but the smile fell from her face, and she gasped in surprise.

  Bryce recognized her but couldn’t place where he knew her from. Had she been one of his mother’s friends? “Do I know you?” he asked politely.

  After looking over her shoulder as if for a place to flee, she frowned and nodded. “I’m Rebecca MacKinlay.”

  Her name brought back the memory in a rush. The reason he hadn’t recognized her immediately was because he was trying to place her here with the Campbells where she didn’t belong. “You lived next door to…” He swallowed and forced the name out. “Maggie and me.”

  “Aye.”

  He hadn’t known what happened to the woman. Hadn’t known what happened to anyone in those months and years after his wife and child had died. He’d folded into his grief and hadn’t come out for a long time. Hadn’t wanted to come out. Not until a shy, lanky lass dragged him out.

  “How did ye find yourself here with the Campbells?” he asked.

  “I came here… You see, I lost my family, too. My husband and my boys. I tried to care for them all, your lasses and my men.” She sighed heavily.

  “You took care of my family when they were ill?” he asked.

  She shrugged. “I wasn’t able to do anything for any of them in the end. But I was there with Maggie and wee Isabel when they passed. I was no healer, but I tried my best to make them comfortable. There were so many sick. I’d lost Edgar and the boys the day before, and hoped I’d have better luck helping Maggie and Isabel. But I knew when I entered the house, they were too far gone.”

  Tears filled the woman’s eyes as he stared at her dry-eyed, waiting to hear the rest of her story. How many times had he wanted to know the details? If his wife had hated him when she died? If his daughter had cried for her mother. For him. He’d found them in their beds and hadn’t known who had succumbed first.

  This woman could tell him, if he was brave enough to ask.

  He finally spoke, but his voice didn’t sound like his own. “How did they go?”

  “Isabel went first. The morning before Maggie. I—I lied to your wife. She was so worried about your daughter, I told her Isabel was doing better. That she was eating.” The woman crossed herself. “I told her I only kept her away because I didn’t want the child to catch th
e sickness again. Maggie was able to relax then. She worried about you as well. She told me I must keep you away. That you were to return soon and she didn’t want you to be exposed. That night she grew weaker and she told me to tell you that she was so sorry to leave you. That she loved you. I told her you loved her as well, and she smiled and said she knew. It was easy to see the way the two of you felt about each other.”

  She smiled at that, but her smile faded. “I wish I’d left a missive to pass on her words, but I don’t know my letters.” She hung her head.

  “I understand.”

  “I was so lost in my grief. My sister lost her husband as well. We were both Campbells before we wed MacKinlay men, so we decided to come back home together. I should have gone back to give you her message, but there were too many memories there I wasna willing to face. I hope you’re not angry.”

  Bryce put his hand on hers and offered a brittle smile. “It comforts me to know they were not alone at the end. There was nothing you could have done to save them,” he said. The ague that had ravaged the village took many lives while leaving others unaffected. Some would call it God’s will, but what god would will the death of innocents?

  “Aye,” she agreed. “There is nothing anyone could have done.” It was a simple phrase. One he’d been told many times by his friends and family over the years. But at that moment, the reality of those words hit with the force of their truth.

  “I wouldn’t have been able to save them,” he said quietly as the meaning settled in.

  The old woman’s hands gripped his tightly, holding him in place as he swayed from the impact of a decade of guilt suddenly pulling free from his shoulders.

  “Nay. The only thing we can do for them now is to live the best life we can to honor their memories.”

  Tears streamed down his cheeks. More came as fast as he could wipe them away. The old woman held him as they both wept. They must have looked a sight, standing there crying in the middle of the village, but he didn’t care.

  He pulled in a breath, breathing deeply without pain for the first time in so long.

  He was alive.

  It was time he started acting like it.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  “I’m so happy to have the chance to introduce you to our neighbors,” Harriet said as Dorie’s father handed them into the carriage. “How convenient for the duke to invite us to his home for a dinner party. There will be a number of wealthy landowners from the area. I know you like the country better than town.”

  Her father gave his wife an indulgent smile and Dorie wondered if Harriet knew what she was missing. Dorie was certain no one but her own mother had ever seen the full force of the viscount’s emotions.

  Dorie’s own smile slipped when she remembered Bryce’s smile and how guarded it was. How it was also always missing something.

  He hadn’t loved her. And she hadn’t been able to love him enough to bridge the gap between them. Swallowing back the pain, she forced her lips up and straightened her shoulders.

  Harriet had encouraged Dorie’s maid to take special measures with her hair and dress this evening.

  Dorie felt excitement rise in her chest. Perhaps tonight would be the night she would meet the man who would love her. A man who could heal her wounded heart and allow her happiness.

  These men would be from the country. Surely one of them would be a good match for her.

  She only needed to give them a chance and certainly one of them would touch her heart.

  Or so she’d hoped.

  But it didn’t take Dorie long to concede defeat. If one more man bowed over her hand, expounding on her beauty, she might scream. Or collapse. Not that she was the fainting type. She’d been through much worse and remained on her feet. But she’d rather feign swooning than have to participate in such tedious conversations.

  The color of her eyes had been compared to bluebells, the sky, and sapphires. Her hair was likened to raven’s wings, midnight, and ebony. She even waited while two men debated if her skin closer resembled fresh milk or cream.

  So many times when she’d been captive at Baehaven she’d wished for someone to keep her company. But this was not the companionship she’d craved. Not fancy words said only for the sake of wooing her. Did other women actually fall for this sort of vapid nonsense?

  As the men smothered her with compliments, she thought of Bryce and wished he were here to run them off with a few gruff words.

  He wouldn’t waste time with fancy words. He would simply look at her in that hungry way she loved and show her with his body how much she pleased him. He’d lie next to her, kissing her until she couldn’t catch her breath and she was moaning with need before he came over her, his weight pressing her down into the bed, giving her a feeling of protection and possession.

  And when she thought she wouldn’t survive one more second, he’d push inside her, with a sound of surrender. Her body would stretch to accommodate him, welcoming his—

  “Are you well?” Harriet interrupted the best part of her evening so far. “You seem flushed.” Being the mother she was, Harriet reached out and placed a cool hand on Dorie’s temple. “Perhaps we should leave.”

  “Nay. I’m fine. I’m just a bit overwhelmed with all the attention.” She offered a strained smile to the still-arguing men in front of her.

  Her father gave a stern look and the men flitted away.

  Did she really want a man who cowered away from her father? She preferred brave men who stood strong and fought for what they wanted.

  Again her thoughts went to Bryce.

  He hadn’t fought for her, and she knew the reason why. She hadn’t been something he’d wanted. “I’m afraid I’m not very good at this,” she admitted to her stepmother.

  Harriet waved a hand. “I don’t blame you, dear. I’d forgotten how tedious this was. It’s all rather ridiculous really.”

  “Did my father talk to you like this?”

  That brought out a laugh. “No. Of course not.”

  Dorie laughed, too. “I was having a difficult time picturing it.”

  “No, your father did not offer any romantic words. He was much too practical for such things. He simply said he needed a wife, and would I be up for the task.”

  Dorie’s smile faded. “You knew he wasn’t in love with you.”

  “Not many marriages start out that way.”

  “What about now?” Dorie waited as Harriet waved to someone and then looked back to her.

  “I love your father, and in many ways your father loves me, too. I think he loves me more than he even knows. He doesn’t express it in words, but in his actions. He gets in on my side of the bed to warm it before I get there. He kisses me on the top of the head when he leaves the room. And he looks at me when one of the children do something that should be shared with a smile.”

  “And that’s enough?”

  “Dorien had a grand love affair with your mother. He was young and on a wild adventure when he met her and fell in love. Her death suspended those feelings for him, but—with no disrespect to your mother—we have no idea if their love would have remained as passionate as it seemed. The truth is, a marriage is not always passionate. It’s sometimes simple and comfortable.”

  Dorie nodded, remembering Kenna and Mari and their relationships with their husbands. There was love in their eyes, but their days were filled talking about mundane things like which of the twins stuck a pebble up their nose or how Lizzy got the bump on her head.

  “Do you think I made a mistake to leave Bryce?” Dorie asked. This woman knew better than anyone what Dorie felt.

  “I can’t say. I never had the opportunity to see the two of you together. I’m certain it wouldn’t have mattered if he was perfect for you; your father would have found fault in the man and offered you the same escape regardless. I doubt he would find anyone worthy of you.
It’s the way of fathers.”

  “I thought it would be easier to find someone to love me than to make the man I love feel something for me. But I think maybe he did love me. In his own way. He never said it, and in fact told me he never would, so I believed that was the truth. But what if he didn’t even realize? What if I gave up my only chance for happiness in my quest for…happiness?”

  “Be calm. There’s still time.”

  “But that’s just it. Right this moment the signed annulment could be on its way from Scotland. My marriage could already be over.”

  Harriet’s lips pulled up in a devious smile, and for a moment Dorie worried she’d been tricked by the woman into believing she cared. “The annulment would dissolve your marriage, but there’s nothing to stop you from marrying him again.”

  Dorie blinked at the clever woman.

  “But what if he rejects me?”

  “He would have to be a fool to reject you. What with your raven-wing hair and eyes the color of—”

  “Bluebells in the sky surrounded by sapphires.” Dorie rolled her eyes.

  “Yes, quite.”

  They laughed together and went to find the viscount so they could leave. Dorie was never going to find the man she loved here. For he was back in Scotland, and she was going back to spend her life with him.

  An hour later they left for home. Dorie wished for silence as she thought over her options. She’d wait until morning to ask her father to take her back to Dunardry.

  Her wish for silence went unfulfilled because her father asked about the men Dorie had met and if any were a candidate for a potential new husband.

  “I’m afraid not, Papa.”

  He frowned. “I thought as much. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s all right. In truth, they might have been lovely. I truly think it’s me.” Her plans for waiting until morning fell away. “I don’t think I belong here.”

  “Of course you do. It’s only been a few months. We’ll cast a larger net. I know—”

  “Dorien,” Harriet said with the authority of a noblewoman. “Listen to your daughter. She’s telling you what she wants.”

 

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