by Julia London
Ualan frowned thoughtfully. “Aye, I think I can,” he said gravely.
Bernadette couldn’t help but smile. She wiped tears from her face. Fiona sat beside her, her legs straight in front of her, and leaned her head against Bernadette’s shoulder. Bernadette slowly put her arm around Fiona. Ualan eased in beside her, too, and slipped his hand into Bernadette’s.
She looked down at the two of them. Her heart was beginning to form out of its dust again. “You realize, do you not, that I’m English? And you’re Scottish. Some people will not care for that.”
“Uncle Rabbie says no’ all English are bad men,” Fiona said.
Bernadette smiled. “No, not all. What if you do not esteem me after a time? You might not care for me at all with a bit of time to know me.”
“I esteem you,” Fiona said. “You’re bonny. But your eyes look verra strange.”
“They do?”
“Aye, they look as if squads of bees have stung them,” Ualan confirmed.
“Oh, that,” Bernadette said, and put her arm around him, too. She noticed that he didn’t resist, and in fact, settled in against her. “I’ve been weeping for quite a long while and my eyes have swollen.”
“Why?” Ualan asked.
“Because I was alone and I didn’t like it. Do you ever weep?”
“No,” Ualan said. “Fiona does, quite a lot, she does.”
Fiona agreed. “I’m sad, too, sometimes. I’m no’ sad when Barabel allows me to help her make a cake. But sometimes, when Ualan says awful things, and I’ve no one to tell, I’m sad.”
“I only say awful things when you say cake-headed things,” Ualan pointed out, and Fiona didn’t disagree.
“Do you know what I think would make me feel better? A walk.”
“Aye, a walk!” Fiona said brightly, sitting up. “May we walk to the sea, then? Mrs. Maloney didna like to walk to the sea, she said it was too far and her legs pained her.”
“Yes, the sea,” Bernadette said, and as they stood up, she pulled Charles’s old boots from the trunk. She’d already packed them away.
They waited for her to put on her boots, then the three of them walked out of Killeaven, hand in hand, in search of Mr. MacDonald to walk along behind them. Perhaps the three of them were in search of more than that. Bernadette didn’t want to think too carefully about it and risk losing the magic of that moment.
* * *
EVERYTHING WAS PACKED by noon the next day. Charles had gone with the first wagon of belongings to the cove to oversee the loading. Niall MacDonald and one of the men who had remained behind, but there had been no sign of the Buchanans since their first appearance. “Aye, the Buchanans are cowards, the lot of them,” Mr. MacDonald had said the day before when he’d accompanied Bernadette and the children on their walk. “They’d no’ come round with Mackenzies here.”
She didn’t know if that was true, but his confidence removed any worry from her head while she explored the path above the sea with two children. As the sun had shone down on them, and the children had collected rocks to show her, Bernadette began to wonder if perhaps Rabbie wasn’t so mad after all.
Fiona and Ualan had spent the night in her bed, the three of them gathered together. “Like the dogs,” Fiona had remarked.
Bernadette was to accompany Niall on the morrow with the last cart carrying the Kents’ things. That afternoon, as Ualan and Fiona argued over something in the salon, Bernadette said goodbye to Ina and sent her on her way with the last of the pitiful wages Lord Kent had left for her.
“Will you come again?” Ina asked.
Bernadette smiled and shook her head. “Not here.”
With Ina gone, there was nothing left to be done. Now that they were alone with Bernadette in the house, Ualan and Fiona chased each other on the terrace with sticks they pretended were swords.
Bernadette watched them idly. She was exhausted. She was emotionally and physically spent. But for the first time in several days she felt as if she could draw a clean breath. She felt as if her heart was actually beating, and not wrenching about in her chest.
The afternoon was growing late, and she walked out onto the drive to watch the sun begin its slide down behind the hills. She knew Rabbie would come, so it was no surprise to her when she heard a horse on the road approaching Killeaven.
She was standing just outside the entry, leaning against one of the columns, when he trotted onto the drive. He reined his horse to a halt, his gaze on her. He was assessing her, trying to determine her mood.
Bernadette gave him no indication. After he’d dropped two orphans here and ridden off, he didn’t deserve to know her mood.
He came off his horse and walked forward. He looked grim, she thought, as if he expected the worst. He stopped a few feet from her and was at a loss for words as his gaze wandered over her. It seemed to require some effort on his part to finally ask, “How do you fare, Miss Holly?”
“Well enough,” she said.
“And the children?”
“Oh, they are very well indeed. They are pretending at swordplay on the terrace.”
He nodded. He put one hand on his hip.
Bernadette thought there had never been a more appealing man to walk these Highlands. She wanted to feel his arms around her. And she wanted to punch him in the mouth. “I take it you’re still verra cross with me, aye?”
Bernadette said nothing.
“If it pleases you, my mother was appalled when I told her what I’d done,” he said. “She thought it absurd and unkind to all parties involved.”
“I agree with your mother.”
His shoulders sagged almost imperceptibly. “Well, then... I’ll collect them.”
“Don’t you mean to ask how we got on?”
One dark brow arched up, and he tilted his head to one side. “Dare I?”
“I think the three of us will agree that it was difficult. The children are loud, and they argue, and they require a lot of attention. I discovered I can be rather short when a child does not heed my advice.”
He frowned darkly. “Aye, then, you’ve made your point, Bernadette,” he said soberly. “I’ll fetch them now.”
“I’m not finished,” she said, and pushed away from the column. “I also require a lot of attention. I hadn’t realized just how much until...well, until I had it. I confess I fell very much apart, and I will confess that I despised you terribly for doing such a wretched thing. But Fiona and Ualan were so kind to me, and they were attentive, and they promised if I made them beans for supper they would not complain, and then I realized, you are right, Rabbie. I’ve been living in my past as much as you have yours. But those two? They can’t remember the past. They can only look to the future and what they see is bright and full of promise. From here on, I am determined to do the same.”
His expression changed. He looked cautiously hopeful. “Speak plainly, then, leannan—what do you mean to say?”
“I mean to say, Rabbie Mackenzie, that I don’t know if I can be any sort of proper mother to two orphans, if that’s what you have offered. I don’t know if I can be a proper wife to you...if that is what you have offered. But I am filled with hope and the desire to try—”
“Bernadette,” he said, his voice full of relief. He strode forward and wrapped her in his arms, kissing her temple, her cheek. “Diah, how I longed to hear you say it. You have given life to my heart, leannan. I love you. I love you so.”
“I love you, too, Rabbie,” she said, smiling. “I didn’t want to love you, God knows I wanted to despise you, and I was so angry with you for bringing Fiona and Ualan here as you did. But the moment I thought I would lose you, I was overcome with grief and sadness and... I don’t want to lose you,” she said, taking his face in her hands. “I don’t want to look back anymore. I want to look forward, with you.
”
He groaned and kissed her neck.
“I want all that, but I have to know, Rabbie—have you really considered all that I’ve told you? Do you understand the sort of talk—”
“I donna care, Bernadette,” he said, lifting his head. He dipped down to her eye level. “Do you hear me, then? Do you understand me? I donna care. I mean what I say—you have given me my life back, and for that, God as my witness, I will give you all that I have.” He pulled her into his body, his arms around her, and he kissed her.
How had her fate brought her to the Highlands of Scotland? How had she discovered the happiness she was certain would elude her all the rest of her days? It was madness, it was magical, it was unbelievable, but Bernadette was a believer.
“Uncle Rabbie, no, donna do it!” Fiona cried from somewhere near by. “It’s wretched!”
Rabbie and Bernadette broke the kiss and looked at Fiona. Bernadette laughed. Fiona ran forward, wrapping her arms around Rabbie and Bernadette’s legs. Ualan didn’t follow straightaway.
“Och, what do you stand there for, lad?” Rabbie said, and gestured for him to come.
Ualan smiled sheepishly and ran to join the hug.
EPILOGUE
IT IS AN early spring day, and they are gathered in the fields near Balhaire, Seona and her sister, her’s sister’s wee bairns, Seona’s mother, too. Catriona has come down, as have Vivienne and Marcas and their brood. They have a basket of bread and fruit, and the dogs that have followed them lie about, panting, their snouts sniffing the air.
The wee baby, Seona’s niece, is eight months old, and when Rabbie makes faces at her, she puts her fists to her knees and laughs. Her brother is almost two, and he walks about on chubby legs, bending over to pull wildflowers that he then drops on the heads of the dogs. None of the dogs pay him any heed.
Rabbie picks up his youngest nephew and holds him high overhead, telling him he’s a bird, then jogs about with the lad overhead. Seona’s nephew begs for a turn, and Rabbie lifts him up, kisses his cheek, then holds him high overhead. He laughs gleefully as Rabbie jogs around with him, flying like a bird.
When he puts the lad down, Seona says “You’ll make a good father one day, Rabbie Mackenzie.”
He hopes that is true. He falls to the ground beside Seona. “One day,” he says, and kisses her. “When I return from Norway, aye?” he asks, and smiles.
“You’re a bold one,” Seona says, and laughingly pushes him away. “I donna know what I’ll think when you come back. Perhaps I’ll have found another lad to amuse me.”
He growls and kisses her again. “Promise me you’ll be here when I return,” he says, and takes her hand. “Donna agree to marry Gordon.”
Seona laughs. “If I canna marry you, I’ll marry no one, Rabbie.”
It is the last day Rabbie will lay eyes on Seona MacBee.
* * *
RABBIE AND BERNADETTE married within a fortnight of that day. There wasn’t a Mackenzie among them who thought they ought to wait, given all that had gone before. Lady Mackenzie was concerned that Bernadette’s family was not present, but after a private meeting with Bernadette, she agreed to it. She understood better than anyone, Rabbie supposed, given her history with her late father. Bernadette would write to her sister, but she planned never to return to England.
The year that followed their wedding passed within a blink of an eye. It astounded Rabbie how, for two years prior, every day had passed with excruciating tedium. But now, it seemed that he was scarcely out of bed before the day had passed and it was time to retire again.
He was indescribably happy.
Today was Bernadette’s birthday, and Rabbie had made her sit at the dining table at Arrandale with a scarf tied around her eyes. She put her hand out, searching the space around her, afraid that a child or something was lurking nearby to frighten her.
A dog startled her with a cold snout to her palm. They had three dogs now, all of them quite useless for anything other than lying in doorways and in everyone’s path.
Bernadette scratched this dog behind the ears. “Woolly,” she said, recognizing the dog. “You’re not to be here.”
“Donna look, Mamma!” Fiona cried. She was standing across the table from Bernadette. She’d begun to call Bernadette Mamma almost immediately. Ualan still called her by her given name, and Isobel, who had been no more than three years when she was found abandoned on the steps of the kirk at Balhaire, called her Mamma as well.
“I’m not looking,” Bernadette said, and tipped her head back pretending to try and see.
Rabbie put his hands on his shoulders and leaned down. “Donna look, leannan, or I’ll have your hide,” he whispered.
“Will the torture never end? I can’t wait another moment!”
“Shall I remove her blind?” Rabbie asked their brood.
“Yes!” they cried in unison.
He untied the blind and pulled the silk away from Bernadette’s face. She blinked, then looked down. There, on a silver platter, was the new pair of boots he’d had made for her. She gasped with delight, her face lighting with her smile. “They’re my size!”
“Might I have the others back now?” Charles drawled.
Charles had remained on when he discovered Bernadette would not be making the voyage back to England. He’d come straightaway to Rabbie and asked if he might tend Arrandale. Bernadette had been surprised by it, but said she was happy to have her friend about.
They had no use for a butler at Arrandale, but Charles happily pretended to be one. Rabbie couldn’t understand why an Englishman would be so eager to stay on in the Highlands. He was fairly certain there was something dire in England Charles hadn’t wanted to face. He’d assumed a crime of some sort, and he would amuse Bernadette late at night, imagining all the crimes Charles might have committed in England.
And then, out of the blue, he announced that he intended to marry Ina. They were expecting a child. Apparently, Rabbie was not the only man brought back from the brink that long summer.
“You can have your boots, and I will even help you burn them,” Bernadette said laughingly. She was delighted with her new boots and insisted on putting them on then and there and wearing them about the house for the rest of the day. Rabbie smiled every time he heard her clomping down one hall or the next.
That evening, when the children had gone to bed, he watched her brush her hair. It was his favorite time of day, watching her ready for bed. He could admire her at his leisure, could marvel that a woman as beautiful as she had married a Highlander like him.
She finished brushing her hair and climbed into bed beside him, and laid her head on his shoulder.
“Are you happy, then?” Rabbie asked.
“Quite,” she said, sighing.
“You’ve no regrets?”
She smiled up at him in surprise. Every time he asked her, she gave him the same look of surprise. Rabbie couldn’t help himself—he considered himself so very fortunate that he had to reassure himself from time to time that she’d not change her mind and would take this dream away. A year or so ago, he couldn’t imagine that he’d ever know happiness again. That he’d ever have a wife he loved above all else. Not to mention children he loved. A year ago, he’d wanted death. Now he wanted life. A very long and happy one.
“Well?” he asked. “What say you?”
“I say I’ve never had the slightest regret,” she said, and kissed his bare chest.
“Swear it?” he asked.
She crossed his heart with the tip of her finger. “Swear it.”
He smiled. “I’ve one more gift,” he said, and handed her an envelope that had arrived at Balhaire a few days ago.
Bernadette sat up on her knees to have a look at the handwriting and gasped. “It’s from Avaline!” She broke the seal and began to read.
It had been more than a year since she’d seen Avaline. They knew that Cailean and Daisy had taken Avaline and her mother to Chatwick Hall until some reconciliation with Lord Kent could be arranged. But then, quite unexpectedly, Lady Kent had died. Daisy had taken pity on the girl and had kept her under her wing, refusing to send her back to a man as odious as Baron Kent. And, for the record, Kent did not ask for his daughter to be returned to him.
There had been another development in the last year, too. Rabbie’s father had been deviled by the idea that the Mackenzies’ enemy, the Buchanans, would have a hand in the management of property so close to Balhaire. He’d come up with an idea. Rabbie’s mother had implored her brother, Uncle Knox, a wealthy English lord, to negotiate a fair price for Killeaven. The plan was for Uncle Knox to hold it for Ellis until the young viscount reached his majority. Ellis had agreed to the deal at Cailean’s request.
When they were able, the Mackenzie clan would buy the land and the estate from Ellis.
Rabbie watched as Bernadette eagerly read Avaline’s letter, her eyes flying over the page. “Well, then?” he asked. “What does she say?”
“That she’s in love,” Bernadette said. “That her heart is singing with joy and something else that is quite illegible or covered by ink smudges, and that she hopes to be married very soon.” She laughed with delight and looked up from the letter. “Do you believe it?”
“Aulay will be relieved to hear it.” Rabbie chuckled.
“Aulay has given her no thought since he deposited her on the shores of England,” Bernadette said with a laugh.