Several net curtains were pulled aside as the inhabitants of Manse Road peeked out to see what the shouting was about.
Alistair McFee staggered along Manse Road, his watery eyes rimmed red from years of heavy drinking. He stopped in front of Declan and tried to focus. He leaned in conspiratorially. “Aye, laddie. Ah know where she is.”
“You do? Where?”
“She down at the . . .” Alistair stopped to hiccup and burp . . . “pub. Ya come wi me to buy me a brew and yerl finder.”
Declan was confused. He took a few steps towards the drunken man. “Are you sure it’s her?”
“Aye, laddie.”
A tiny woman with lean tattooed arms ran down the pathway from a house and began swatting Alistair around the head with a newspaper. “Ya great fookin’ berk. Pished again. Where’s ma money? Has ya pished it aways?” Defending his head from the blows, Alistair stumbled up the path and disappeared inside his house. The tiny woman folded her arms, appraising Declan. “Is it Elizabeth yer lookin fer?” she demanded.
Declan nodded.
“Well, there’s Elizabeth MacKay, lives up the loch wi her brother and his six kids.”
Declan shook his head. “That’s not her.”
A tractor rumbled down the street and stopped to see what was going on. The driver, a man in his thirties, leaned out. “Wha’s happenin’?”
The tiny woman turned to him. “This American lad is lookin’ fer Elizabeth.”
“There’s Elizabeth Macintosh, Elizabeth MacKay and Betty Wilder, and Lizzie McIntyre. Lizzie the lezzy and her girlfriend over by the loch.”
Declan was getting impatient. “No. Elizabeth Harding.”
The tiny woman beamed. “Och, ya mean the American?”
“She’s Canadian.”
A young couple carrying groceries joined the group. Declan turned to them in frustration. “I’m trying to find Elizabeth Harding. Do you know her?”
“The couple looked at each other, then back at Declan. “D’ye mean the lassie wi the twins?”
Declan shook his head. “No, she doesn’t have twins.”
“Can’t say we do.”
Alison MacFadyen, on her way back from school, was surprised to see a group gathered in the middle of Manse Road. Annie Stirling, the local busybody, and her friend Eileen had joined them.
Declan was now describing Elizabeth. “Beautiful. Long red hair. At least, the last time I saw her it was long, although maybe she’s cut it.”
Alison chimed in, “You’re looking for Elizabeth?”
“Yes. Elizabeth Harding. Do you know where I can find her?”
Alison nodded and pointed up the road. “It’s the last cottage on the left. Sits out on its own, overlooking the sea.”
Declan could have kissed her. Thanking her profusely, he jumped in his Jeep and roared off.
The women in the group were stunned. One of them said she thought she’d seen him on TV. He was the best-looking man they’d ever seen in their lives, and certainly the best-looking they’d seen in Kinlochbervie.
* * *
Elizabeth pulled her old violin from its case. It had been years since she’d played, but she thought she might try to teach herself again. She still had her father’s guitar, which Declan had left in her hospital room after Natasha’s attack. She would keep it for her son or daughter. Maybe they’d inherit Declan’s talent.
She jumped at the knock on her door. Django let out a series of puppy yaps and growls. She wasn’t expecting anyone, but maybe it was Muriel with more eggs. She opened the door and almost fainted. Declan didn’t even say hello. He simply wrapped his arms around her and drank in a forceful kiss like a man dying of thirst. Could this be happening? Could this really be happening?
Elizabeth melted into his arms. The kiss seemed eternal. Where he began, she ended. Where he ended, she began.
They pulled apart.
“Elizabeth. Elizabeth, my love.” Declan stroked her hair. He pulled her to his strong chest. She could feel his thumping heart. It was beating just for her. Tears of joy filled Elizabeth’s eyes.
Declan looked at her with passion and longing. “I’ve missed you, Elizabeth. Oh God, how I’ve missed you. I’ve been such a fool. Can you ever forgive me?”
“You are here. You are forgiven.”
“I’ve never said this to you. I’ve never said it to anyone. I love you with all my heart.”
“I love you too, Declan, more than you’ll ever know.”
“I want to know. I want to hear it every day.”
“How will that be possible?”
“I’ll never be apart from you again.”
As if on cue, the babies woke up and began to cry. Elizabeth took Declan’s hand. “Come and meet your son and daughter.”
Declan’s mouth dropped in astonishment and disbelief. “Two babies? Twins?”
Elizabeth laughed. “We don’t do things by halves, do we, Declan? It’s all or nothing.”
Together they tiptoed into the nursery. Declan’s eyes were wide with wonder and amazement. “Meet Camille and Jack,” Elizabeth said. The babies stopped crying when she picked them up. Their eyes met Declan’s with frankly curious stares. “Camille and Jack, meet your daddy.”
Declan leaned over and kissed each baby on the forehead. Jack grabbed a lock of Declan’s dark hair and gave it a tug. “Ouch. Easy there, little buddy.”
“I think he’s saying, ‘What took you so long?’”
Elizabeth carried the babies into her front room and put them in their playpen.
Declan was entranced. “My God, they’re amazing. And they’re mine.”
Elizabeth nodded.
“They’re so beautiful, so perfect.” Declan’s eyes swept around the cottage. “And this place, this view. I can see why you love it here.”
“It’s very special.”
“And you, Elizabeth. You’re more special to me than anyone.”
Elizabeth couldn’t believe what happened next. Declan bent down on one knee, taking her hand in his. “I want you to marry me. Please say yes.”
She savoured the moment. Declan’s crystal blue eyes brimmed with love for her. This was one fantasy Elizabeth was overjoyed to have come true.
“Yes,” she said at last. “Yes!”
About the Author
British-born Susan Ferrier MacKay spent her professional career in Toronto as a freelance writer and television producer. Having written her first novel, she now describes herself as “a vegetarian who has written a book about meat.”
Copyright
Butterfly of Venus
Copyright © 2014 by Susan Ferrier MacKay.
All Rights Reserved.
Published by HarperCollins Publishers Ltd
All rights reserved under all applicable International Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen.
No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.
Song lyrics courtesy of Craig Stickland: www.craigstickland.com
Author photo courtesy Alison Sinton
EPub Edition: January 2014
EPub ISBN: 9781443430500
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