Courting an Angel

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Courting an Angel Page 21

by Grasso, Patricia;


  Instantly, both boys leaned close to the pup. True to his name. Smooches delighted in licking their faces and making them laugh with childish glee.

  Duncan picked a twig up, threw it across the garden, and ordered, “Fetch, Smooches.”

  The pup wagged his tail and sat down.

  “I’m afraid Smooches hasna learned to fetch yet,” Rob explained.

  “I’ll teach him,” Gavin offered.

  “We’ll teach him,” Duncan corrected his brother.

  “Perhaps ’twould be wise to begin with somethin’ simple like ‘sit’ or ‘give paw,’” Rob suggested.

  “Sit,” Gavin ordered the pup.

  “He’s already sittin’,” Duncan told his brother.

  “Stand,” Gavin corrected himself.

  Rob burst out laughing. The six-year-old cast her a flirtatious smile, obviously pleased that he’d entertained her.

  “Do ye play here often?” Rob asked, sitting down on a nearby stone bench. She loved children and hoped she’d see them again.

  Duncan nodded. “Every day at this hour.”

  “Weather permittin’, I’ll meet ye here tomorrow,” Rob said. “Ye can train Smooches a little bit each day. Would ye like that?”

  Surprisingly, the boys did not answer. They were looking at something behind her.

  “Da!” Duncan shrieked and ran past her.

  “Da!” Gavin echoed and followed his brother.

  With a smile of greeting upon her face, Rob stood and turned to meet their father. The sight of him hit her with the impact of an avalanche, crushing whatever hopes for happiness she’d harbored in her heart. Shock weakened her legs as if she’d been struck with the broad end of a claymore, forcing her to plop down on the bench again.

  Duke Magnus stood near the garden door. Beside him, Gordon crouched on one bended knee as he clutched his sons.

  “How are my warrior and my hawk?” Gordon asked the boys.

  “I missed ye,” Duncan said.

  “Me too,” Gavin echoed.

  “We’ve just saved that damsel from the dragon that was chasin’ her,” Duncan told his father.

  Gordon shifted his gaze to Rob and told them, “I once slew the monster that was livin’ beneath her bed.”

  “Ye did?” they chimed together.

  Gordon smiled and nodded.

  “She said we could train her dog and play together every day,” Gavin told his father. The boy lowered his voice and whispered, “She’s verra bonny.”

  “Aye, she’s bonny,” Gordon agreed, and smiled in her direction.

  Meeting his gaze, Rob felt her blood heat to a boiling rage, and a tempest of anger swept through her. Duncan and Gavin were her husband’s bastards, Kendra’s sons sired after he’d married her. While she’d been dreaming of him rescuing her from the taunts of the MacArthur clan’s children, Gordon had been nesting between Kendra’s thighs.

  Rob considered Duncan and Gavin innocent of their father’s sins. She knew that many men sired children out of wedlock. Their existence didn’t bother her. What hurt beyond forgiveness was his lack of regard for her as evidenced by his failure to tell her about his sons.

  Everyone in the hall that morning knew that Kendra had borne Gordon his two sons.

  Except his wife.

  Chapter 10

  “God’s balls, lass. Dinna just stand there lookin’ like yer aboot to swoon,” Gordon said, standing in front of her. “Say somethin’, will ye?”

  Having just suffered one of the worst shocks of her eighteen years, Rob knew she must be as pale as death itself. She looked up at her husband, and then gazed past him to the duke and the two young boys who stood near the door. All of them wore worried expressions, which meant she appeared as horrible as she felt.

  Rob met her father-in-law’s gaze and gave him a pointed stare. Oddly enough, Duke Magnus understood what she needed because he cast her an encouraging smile and inclined his head in her direction. Taking his grandsons in hand, he disappeared inside the building.

  “Well, lass?”

  Rob looked up at Gordon again. A surge of rage shot through her. Her husband was about to feel the sting of her anger, but not her pain. Never her pain. She’d always considered her pain a private matter to be kept locked away and never shared with anyone. Her MacArthur pride refused to allow anyone the sight of her vulnerable, aching heart.

  Slowly and deliberately, Rob rose from her perch on the bench. She stepped closer to her husband and said in a deceptively quiet voice, “Tell me, my lord. How would ye feel if I’d been the one with children I’d neglected to mention?”

  “Dinna be ridiculous,” Gordon scoffed at the notion.

  “How dare ye call me ridiculous,” Rob said, her voice an angry whisper, her hands clenching into fists at her sides. “At least I possessed the integrity to tell ye aboot Henry. Ye should have told me aboot yer sons, Gordy.” Her whisper grew into a shout, and her chest heaved with breathless rage as though she’d climbed a mountain. “I had the right to know aboot them before I stepped into that hall and faced the woman who bore them. Great Bruce’s ghost, I’ll never trust ye again.”

  Gordon snapped his eyebrows together. “Are ye finished?”

  “Not quite,” she replied in a clipped voice. “Yer an immoral, arrogant son of a bitch.”

  Without warning, Rob swung with her right arm and slapped his left cheek so hard the force of it snapped his face to the right. Scooping Smooches into her arms, she marched down the stone path and disappeared inside the house.

  Rob went directly to her chamber. Shaking with fury, she set Smooches down on the bed and then sat in the chair in front of the hearth.

  Tears welled up in her eyes, but she forced them back. How humiliating to meet her husband’s mistress, the mother of his sons, and be unaware of it. Those watching Campbells in the hall that morning must have had a hearty laugh at her expense, and by now the tale would have spread to anyone unfortunate enough to have missed it.

  And just how did Fergus figure into this? Didn’t the man care that his wife had borne the laird’s heir two children?

  Rob sighed raggedly and struggled against the flood of tears threatening to spill, doggedly refusing to weep for Gordon. She’d lived through worse than this humiliation and never shed a tear. The proud MacArthurs never wept for trivialities like a miserable, friendless childhood or a husband’s betrayal.

  A startling thought suddenly slammed into her consciousness. She’d struck her husband. Never in her entire life had she done anyone violence. Why, in the holy name of God, had she started with him? Praise be to a merciful God, there’d been no witnesses. Gordon would be furious and bent on exacting some kind of retribution. What form would that take, and, more importantly, how would she deflect it?

  Hours passed while she pondered her fateful near-future. Just before supper the door swung open. Startled, Rob glanced over her shoulder, certain that her husband had come to punish her for daring to raise her hand to him.

  “Good evenin’, Lady Rob,” Gabby called.

  “Is it evenin’ already?” Rob asked, every nerve in her body relaxing at the welcome sight of her tiring woman.

  “Have ye been sittin’ there the whole day and never noticed the hours passin’?” Gabby asked, crossing the chamber to stand before her. “Ye dinna look well. Is yer hand painin’ ye?”

  Rob met the girl’s worried gaze and answered, “No, ’tis my heart.”

  “Spill it, lady,” Gabby ordered, heedless of the proper protocol between a tiring woman and her mistress. “What’s yer problem?”

  Rob hesitated for a fraction of a moment, but then admitted, “My husband and I are in discord.”

  “Is that all?” Gabby chuckled, surprising her. “Would ye like me to help ye change yer gown before supper?” she asked. “’Tis one of my duties, ye know.”

  Rob shook her head. “I’d rather ye tell me aboot Gordon and Kendra.”

  “What’s to tell?”

  “She bore
him two sons.”

  “Oh, that.” Gabby gestured with her hand as if the matter were of no consequence. “’Twas an affair ended long ago. Besides, Gordy futtered dozens of Inverary’s maids.”

  “Why, thank ye, Gabby,” Rob said dryly. “Yer makin’ me feel ever so much better.”

  “A man will always take what’s offered,” the girl told her. “Granny Biddy said so.”

  “What aboot Fergus?” Rob asked.

  “Kendra married Fergus aboot three years ago when she realized havin’ the laird’s grandsons wasna gainin’ her anythin’,” Gabby said. “The laird ordered the boys moved into the main house last year so they could be educated and raised as befittin’ a duke’s grandsons. Tutors them himself, he does. Every week or two, Duncan and Gavin spend a day and a night with Fergus and Kendra. Ye are na harborin’ a grudge against the lads, are ye?”

  “No, but Gordon should have told me they existed,” Rob replied.

  “He never told ye?” Gabby shook her head in disbelief. “’Tis just like a man to ignore the unpleasant truth until it leaps up and bites his arse. Granny Biddy says dinna ever let yer man get the upper hand with ye because —”

  “I believe I got the upper hand with my husband,” Rob interrupted, smiling in spite other heartache.

  “What d’ye mean?”

  “I slapped him.”

  Gabby’s lips formed a perfect O of surprise, and then she grinned. “Good for ye, my lady. I’m likin’ ye better and better with each passin’ moment.”

  Had she found a friend in Gabby? Rob wondered, returning the girl’s smile. If so, it would be the second friend she’d ever had. Not bad, considering she’d never expected to have even one.

  “Let me dress ye up pretty for supper,” Gabby suggested.

  “I canna go down there,” Rob said, refusing. “Everyone except me knew aboot Duncan and Gavin bein’ Gordy’s sons. ’Twould be too embarrassin’ to face them.”

  “The others dinna know that Gordy never told ye aboot the boys bein’ his,” Gabby reasoned with her. “In fact, I’m positive they assumed he told ye. I heard ye tell Kendra that the laird spoke aboot the boys to ye. What ye must do is pretend that ye knew all along.”

  “I dinna know,” Rob replied uncertainly.

  “Think of the fun ye’ll have sittin’ at the high table and givin’ Gordy the cold shoulder,” the girl coaxed. “Why, he’ll be squirmin’ in his chair like a man who’s sufferin’ from the crabs but doesna dare scratch his itch.”

  Rob smiled, though she had absolutely no idea to what the girl was referring. “Gabby, I’m likin’ ye more and more,” she said.

  “Och, I never doubted ye would.”

  Rob dressed in one of her late mother-in-law’s gowns created in dove gray velvet. The dress had long-flowing sleeves that ended in a point at her wrists, a tight-fitting bodice, and a moderately low-cut, squared neckline. Around her neck she set her beggar bead necklace, its star ruby resting provocatively just above the valley between her breasts. Rob would have worn a pair of the lacy, fingerless gloves her husband had given her, but none quite matched the gown and would only have aroused curiosity about what she was hiding beneath it.

  With Gabby trailing in her wake, Rob walked into the great hall. She kept her head held high and a serene expression on her face as she made her way through the crowd toward the high table. Most of the clansmen she passed bade her a good evening; Rob returned their greeting by nodding at them like a young queen acknowledging her subjects. Judging from her outward demeanor, no one would ever have imagined that she was a quivering mass of nerves on the inside.

  Reaching the high table where Duke Magnus and Gordon stood with the two boys, Rob smiled and asked, “Who would care to sit beside me?”

  “I do,” all of them answered simultaneously.

  Ignoring her husband, Rob cast her father-in-law a look of supreme regret and said, “I believe I’ll sit between the two verra bravest Campbells. Gavin, ye sit here between yer grandfather and me. Smooches will sit on my lap; and, Duncan, ye sit over here between me and . . . him.”

  Rob heard Duke Magnus chuckle and then cough to cover it. Glancing over her shoulder, she cast him a look that said the entertainment was about to begin.

  The duke’s servants set supper on the table in front of them. There were sheep’s haggis, Mashlan scones with butter, cheese, cider, and wine.

  “Ye look especially lovely tonight,” Gordon complimented her unexpectedly.

  Rob inclined her head, acknowledging the compliment, and said, “Yes, I know.” Then she turned away and scanned the hall’s occupants.

  “She isna here,” the duke whispered over Gavin’s head, drawing her attention.

  “I dinna understand, Yer Grace,” Rob said, giving him a puzzled look.

  “Most couples, such as Fergus and Kendra, dinna sup in the hall,” Duke Magnus told her. “Married couples usually enjoy the privacy of suppin’ alone in their own quarters after a hard day’s work.”

  Rob nodded. “’Tis the same at Dunridge Castle.”

  “So, how was yer first full day at Inverary?” the duke asked.

  “Enlightenin’.”

  “Any problems?”

  “Only minor, certainly unworthy of yer attention,” Rob replied, her voice loud enough for her husband to hear. She lifted her mug of cider to her lips and took a sip.

  “I heard ye married our da,” Gavin said, apparently unhappy with her inattention. “Should we call ye Ma?”

  Rob choked on her cider. When she was able to speak again, she replied, “Well, yer own mother might feel puirly if ye gave me her title. What do ye call Fergus?”

  “We call him Fergus,” Duncan answered.

  “Then call me Rob.”

  The boys nodded, their smiles telling her how relieved they felt to have that matter settled. “Well, Lady Rob,” Duncan said. “Do ye suppose ye’ll be givin’ us brothers and sisters?”

  Rob stared at him in surprise. And that was before she heard the little voice on her left speak up.

  “Da, can we have a baby sister?” Gavin asked his father.

  “’Tis fine with me, son,” Gordon answered, a wicked smile lighting his expression. “Of course, ye’ll have to clear it with my wife.”

  Rob sent her husband an unamused look.

  “Would ye care for a game of chess after supper, hinny?” he asked.

  “Ye canna get sisters from playin’ chess,” Duncan announced. “Even I know that.”

  Rob stifled a horrified giggle at the turn their conversation had taken. She cast her husband a long look and then said, “No, thank ye, my lord.”

  Before he could protest, Rob rose from her chair and, cradling the pup in her arms, said, “I’m still a bit weary from travelin’. I’ll take Smooches outside for a few minutes and then retire.” She turned to Gavin and asked, “Will I see ye in the mornin’?”

  The little boy grinned and nodded.

  “And ye too?” she asked his brother.

  Duncan nodded.

  “We’ll begin trainin’ Smooches then.”

  Without glancing back at the high table, Rob slowly wended her way through the crowd of warriors and retainers, and then disappeared out the door. The four males at the high table, from the oldest to the youngest, watched her leave.

  Duke Magnus chuckled as soon as she’d vanished from sight. “Well, she put ye in yer place,” he told his son.

  “Ye sound like yer enjoyin’ this,” Gordon replied, rounding on his father.

  “Well, Inverary was becomin’ a tad borin’ until she arrived,” the duke admitted. “Now I’m lookin’ forward to bein’ thoroughly entertained during my twilight years. At yer expense, of course.”

  “I dinna perceive any real contest of wills here,” Gordon told his father.

  “Remember this, son,” Duke Magnus warned him. “‘Pride goeth before a fall.’”

  “I canna credit what I’m hearin’,” Gordon countered, rising from his chair.
“Old Clootie himself is quotin’ the Holy Scripture.” At that, he followed his wife out of the hall.

  The Duke of Argyll threw back his head and shouted with laughter. He glanced at his grandsons who were staring at him in confusion.

  “At what are ye laughin’?” Duncan asked.

  “Yer father,” the duke answered.

  “Why?” asked Gavin.

  “Because yer father has the common sense of a donkey,” Duke Magnus answered, still smiling. “And if ye repeat what I said, ye willna be receivin’ ponies when yer birthdays come around again.”

  “I never heard nothin’,” Duncan said.

  “Me too,” Gavin agreed.

  When she left the great hall, Rob hurried down the long corridor and descended the wheel stairs to the ground level. Opening the door that led to the enclosed garden, she stepped outside and set Smooches down. “Go on.” she ordered. “Do yer duty.”

  Rob paused before following the pup and looked up at the night sky. The west wind had blown the day’s cloud cover away. Accompanied by thousands of glittering stars, a full moon hung overhead in the perfect setting of the black velvet sky.

  Supper had been a success, Rob thought as she strolled down the stone path. So why did satisfaction elude her? Why did she have an empty feeling of loss deep within her heart?

  As she walked along, the night’s dark beauty and the serenity within the garden renewed her nagging spirits. She could hardly wait for spring when this private sanctuary would certainly become nature’s paradise.

  “Rob?”

  She turned around slowly at the sound of her husband’s voice. “Yes, my lord?”

  Gordon stood five feet away. Even in the darkness, her husband appeared a magnificent figure of a man, the kind about whom young maidens dream. No wonder he’d become a womanizer. How much inner strength could one man possess? Even Adam in his state of original grace hadn’t been able to refuse that infamous apple.

  “I apologize for not tellin’ ye aboot Duncan and Gavin,” Gordon said simply.

  “I forgive ye and apologize for strikin’ ye,” Rob said. “’Twas wrong of me.”

  Gordon stepped closer as a smile slashed across his handsome features. He reached out with one hand and touched her arm. “We could grant Gavin’s request if we seal our forgiveness with a kiss,” he suggested in a seductively husky voice.

 

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