by Jackie Ivie
“Aye. It’s a farce. He kens it. As do I. The verra last thing he’d allow is the dying out of the Ballanclaire line. He’s still prone to using it as a threat. You’ve noted my guards? Those staunch gentlemen assisting me?”
She nodded.
“They’re part of his honor guard.”
“Your father wins them in contests?”
“Na’ them. Their predecessors. The duke is auld. Stooped. As I told you, he’s na’ much to look at, either. Resembles an ogre. His features are so large, they’re misshapen. His nose is akin to a turnip. At least it looked that way when I last saw him.”
“Kameron!” Constant couldn’t stay the laugh.
“Well, it does.”
“You aren’t very flattering to your parents.”
“I’m supposed to be? Oh, verra well. I’ll try. My mother is first cousin to the king. She’s a legendary beauty, but one who came with a tongue that spouts sulfur.”
“Kam!”
“I’m still unflattering? I’ll try again. My father is near seventy, suffers gout, heart issues, aching bones, and an overbearing sense of stiff-necked pride. My mother is a bit younger. Actually, for a lady of two score and six, she’s amazingly well preserved. I think she has vinegar in her veins. That’s probably why.”
“Kameron.”
“You are verra difficult to please, Constant.” He sighed. “I’ll try yet again. My parents are both highly regarded members of the peerage. They detest me. Always have. I am a disgrace and an embarrassment according to my sire, while my mother has never loved me. Na’ even when I was in leading reins. Or so she says. This sort of thing does tend to make one’s offspring unflattering, for lack of a better word.”
“Your parents . . . detest you? They couldn’t. They didn’t. It isn’t true. It can’t be.”
“Verra well, Constant. Have it your way. I was raised at my mother’s breast and lovingly escorted into manhood with my parents overseeing every step. I canna’ fathom why I turned out like I did. I truly canna’.”
“I think . . . I’m beginning to see . . . a little.”
“A little? I’ll have you know the barristers agree with me, although they’ll never say such again.”
“Again?”
“We imbibed together on the way to the colonies. It was a long voyage over. I was a tad wary of the end result. Actually, I was terrified of it.”
“Barrister MacVale? And Barrister Blair? I don’t believe it.”
“Verra well, Constant, I give up. My mother is the epitome of virtue, loveliness, and charm, while my father is a dapper, much older gentleman, who is a bit self-absorbed. Both of his lawyers are men of honor, and teetotalers. They would never cheat, lie, or steal. I doona’ ken why they’d choose to be barristers. That career seems to require all those traits. They’re obviously better suited as members of the clergy. Why, they probably never touch a drop of spirits. Is that what you wish to hear?”
“I would rather hear about the terrified part.”
“Damn. I was hoping you hadn’t heard that. Hmm. I meant I was a bit embarrassed at having to meet you. I figured you might have forgotten me, although first loves are usually memorable. But blast it all! I may have been the first, but I had done it so terribly, you might have put it down to a verra bad dream. I would have.”
“Kameron,” she said. “I want the truth.”
“You are worse than an interrogator, Constant. That bodes well for our children’s future exploits. You wish the truth?”
He stopped and sighed hugely.
“Verra well. The truth. I did my best acting ever . . . in that loft. After . . . I . . . we—well, after. I wanted you to hate me. I thought it best. ’Twas the hardest thing I’ve ever done, I think. You turned my entire world completely upside down. You’ve nae idea. And then you showed up at the hanging? And spoke up for me? I’ve never known love such as you demonstrated. Ever. You proved there was good in the world, and absolute, unselfish love. And then. Then—”
He stopped, cleared his throat. His voice wavered as he continued. “When . . . I woke . . . I asked for . . . my wife. For you. The commander, he said—he said you . . .”
He swallowed. Hard. She heard it.
“He told me you . . . left. You tossed the certificate in the fire and then you walked out. Just like that. You left without even waiting to see if I’d live. With na’ so much as a backward glance. And they thought my sobs . . . were from my injuries. Fools.”
“That horrible little man! That’s not what happened, Kam. It tore my heart out. And he knew it. Ooh. Whatever punishment your father devises for that selfish man, it’s not severe enough. He was worried for his career because of you. Those words were his vengeance.”
“Good thing he’s na’ in range. I’ll show him vengeance.”
“Stand in line,” Constant replied, and he chuckled.
“Well. There you have it, love. I had to see you again, somehow ask for an annulment, and all through it . . . act as though it were naught. Terrified is the only apt description. I told the barristers some of it. That was stupid. It made them watchful. I keep forgetting, although it should be ingrained by now.”
Constant was glowing. She couldn’t believe she wasn’t lighting the entire room with how she felt. Her voice sounded it. “You keep . . . forgetting what?”
“MacVale and Blair are the duke’s men. They’ll always be his men. They think I’m too dense to realize it. They think I doona’ ken what they’re planning. I do. I’ll just have to be smarter than they are.”
“What are they planning?” She held her breath.
“They’re going to fake your death, Constant. They’re going to make me into a widower with two small bairns and an old, weak, Spanish princess for a future wife. Ugh. Worse yet, she’ll be ugly. Fat. Smelly. She’ll have but one brow across her forehead, and a mustache, besides.”
“She sounds delightful.” Constant couldn’t prevent the laughter that filled her voice.
He cleared his throat. “To get back to the subject at hand; I ken what the barristers are planning, I just doona’ ken when and how they’ll accomplish it, although this posture-board thing does give me some promising leads.”
“Like what?”
“My father settled a sum on you for signing the annulment. It should stop with news of your death, but I’m certain there’s a codicil, or something that the barristers will use. There will be enough for you to live quite comfortably. I’m assuming in Spain. I’ve been racking my mind for potential locations. Ballanclaire clan has property on Palma, but that’s too easy. Cadiz, maybe. Or perhaps Portugal, although I have my doubts. They may also place you in France, although it will na’ be Monaco. It’s too well known. Attracts a large, cosmopolitan crowd. Can you imagine how scandalous it would be if I’m wed to my betrothed, Princess Althea-the-Pig, and then someone discovers my first wife, still living?”
She shivered. “I don’t think that bothers them. I’m going to be given another identity, and the twins don’t favor me at all. They look just like you.”
“That they do. And that means they look exactly like their grandmother. Lord, but I canna’ wait to apprise her of her grandmother status. Wait a moment. You know about this?”
“I overheard them.”
He hugged her close. “Careful, Constant, love. You’ll be mistaken for a spy at this rate.”
“I’d be a failure.”
“I was na’ verra successful, either, if you look at my record. I’ll have to get better at it if I’m going to ferret out your hiding spot.”
“Hiding spot?”
“I’m going to come for you, love. I’ll move heaven and earth to find you. I’ll have to keep everyone guessing while I do. We’re going to have to come up with a secret code, though.”
“Code?”
“For when I find you. You might be verra well hidden. You might be guarded. Contrary to how it looks at present, I have a bit of trouble with guards. They tend to be verra control
ling and impossible to escape from. I only managed it tonight because there’s a terrible storm tossing us about and they allowed me up to relieve myself. Do you wish the particulars?”
She shook her head. He continued on anyway.
“They usually wait about while I handle nature’s call. It’s na’ verra conducive to privacy. I’m na’ the shy sort, but even if I was, spending time in your loft would’ve gotten that sort of thing out of my system.”
“Kameron.”
He sighed. “Verra well. I’ll keep to the subject at hand. I’m released to relieve myself, and again when they let me hold our bairns. They promised me that, if I’d cease struggling. They’ll be withholding it if I doona’ get back afore daylight”
“You hold . . . the twins?” Constant hoped he wouldn’t hear the emotional note in her voice. She swallowed it out of existence as he continued talking.
“Every day. Twice. I see them separately. I asked for that. I want to make certain my children ken their father. I love them, Constant. Already. Immensely. When I’m able to, I’ll show them how much. I’ll buy them each an estate. Will that be enough, do you think?”
“Children don’t need things, Kameron. They need love.”
His arms tightened on her. “They’ll get it, I swear. I also asked for them separately because I wanted to hold them and I wanted to smell them. I imagined you holding them just before me, and that I could smell you on them.”
The room was still rocking in front of her, but Constant couldn’t see it through the sheen of tears.
“Our son, Benjamin, loves to be held. Abigail took a bit more persuasion. Actually, she prefers to ride my knees and be played with. She must take after her mother with such a temperament. I was ever amenable to rules and authority, so it canna’ be me.”
“Kameron,” she said.
“You are a difficult woman to fool. I would rather face an inquisition than you. Verra well, Constant. Our daughter has a feisty side. It’s likely my fault. It endears her to me greatly. Perhaps I should have said that, instead.”
“You don’t mind?”
“Abigail’s temperament? Of course na’. In fact, I find my children such treasures I am at a loss as to what I can give you.”
“Give me?”
“You provided me my heir, Constant, and you doubly gifted me with his sister. ’Tis expected I show gratitude. How about a diamond necklace, with two stones instead of one? Would that suffice?”
“I don’t need gifts, Kam. I only need you.”
Her response had him holding her tighter. “Truer words were never spoken, nor more needed. You have nae idea. I swear to you now, Constant, love, we will be together as a family. I will na’ rest until I get that. You ken?”
She nodded. She didn’t trust her voice.
“That’s na’ a difficult promise to make. I already said as much.”
“When?” she replied.
“Doona’ you listen when I talk? I canna’ wed with any princess. I refuse. If I canna’ be with you, then life is na’ worth living. That is nae lie. I swear it.”
She rolled, in the circle of his embrace, and held herself up by leaning on her elbows.
She looked at him. “What time is it?” she asked.
“I doona’ ken. Tuesday?”
“Kameron.”
The lamplight touched his face, slithered away, and returned. Both times he had the same gentle expression.
“You may na’ believe this, Constant Ballan, but you saved me. I was swimming in debauchery, lechery, and every sort of vice, and then I found you. You changed me. It was na’ something I expected. It was na’ something I looked for. It certainly was na’ something I thought I wanted, but I received it, anyway. To do anything less than commit to you with everything I am—and will be—would be a lifetime of hell. I already ken. I lived through a year of it while I recuperated enough to travel. You make me long to bolt from the life of luxury and lasciviousness I was living, and reach for something else. I was actually ready to till the soil. I still am.”
“You can’t become a farmer, Kameron.”
“Why na’?”
“Because you are meant for so much more. You’re related to the king! You can make him listen. You can help resolve the problems they’re having in the colony. You can. I know it.”
He looked at her, his chin lowered and his eyes glowing every time the light touched them. “Ah, love. I canna’ speak to the king. I canna’ get near him, nor do I wish to. I’m na’ important enough, and let’s na’ forget, I’ve been ostracized. I was sent to the colonies for punishment, although I doona’ recall why at the moment.”
“The Marchioness of Barclay. I assume you two were lovers. She wanted marriage. She must not have known you couldn’t marry anyone except your princess. You should have told her; there wouldn’t have been such a scandal.”
“Oh, hell. Doona’ tell me you remember all that?”
“And more.”
He sighed. “Could we go back to discussing the king? It’s safer, although why we’d care what trouble a few dissidents create, eludes me. We have greater problems.”
“They’re more than a few and they’re not dissidents.”
“Must we have an argument over colonial policies now? Because we’ve little time as it is. It’s probably closing in on morning, although I haven’t a clue.”
Constant’s lips twitched. Then she smiled. “Very well, Kameron. You win. We’ll speak of it when we’re together again.”
“It will take place sooner than you know, love. I’m na’ fond of being separated from my lady wife. Tonight was just a sampling. The barristers had better take that into account. Two more weeks seems an eternity.”
“There’s no guarantee after that, Kam.”
“Oh, there’s every guarantee, my love. I promise you. I may have been a detestable man. I may have been an embarrassment to my parents and my peers and the world at large, but I promise you, I’ll be the best husband and father ever. On that, you have my word.”
“Oh, Kameron.”
This time, she couldn’t halt the tears nor keep him from seeing them, since he was mere inches from her face.
He reached his hands to cup her face, using his thumbs to wipe at the moisture. “We have na’ concocted a code yet, love.”
“Code?” she repeated.
“Blue ribbon.”
“Blue ribbon?”
“When we’re apart, remember. Send me a blue ribbon. When I see it, I’ll come. I promise. Nae matter where they hide you, no matter which continent, I swear I’ll search and I’ll find you. I’ll never cease looking. Ever.”
“I love you,” she replied in a soft tone.
“And I love and adore you. It keeps me sane, when all about me is insanity.” He smiled, leaned forward to place a kiss on her forehead, and then he shrugged his legs off the side of the bed. “You’d best procure my clothing. I’d go myself, but that maid of yours has ideas.”
“Really? I don’t know about what,” she replied, and snickered.
Chapter Twenty-Six
They were waiting for him in the hallway. Constant saw at least six of the kilt-clad men as Kameron looked one way, then the other, then shut the door.
“Oh, good. There’s nae one about.” He was smiling. She didn’t return it.
“Kameron,” she replied.
“You say my name like a threat. If the woman who gave life to me had any potential to be a mother, she’d have sounded the same when I needed it the most. At least, I think she would have. I would have liked it, too. I think.”
“Kameron,” she repeated in the same level tone.
He sighed, the movement taking her with it since he held her to his side. “Oh, verra well, Constant, love. I’ll take another look.”
He opened the door again. There were probably more than six of his guards, although she didn’t count to make certain. She took a quick glance before shrinking back against Kam’s shoulder. She longed to disappear back int
o her chamber.
The line of men stretched along the corridor in both directions. Although the ship was wildly rocking back and forth, it didn’t seem to affect Kameron’s guards much. Each man had his feet planted apart and rolled with the movement, managing to look like a disciplined soldier. They were soaking wet. Stern-faced. Constant watched as Kameron looked at each one in turn, pulling her along with him while he did so. She wished she wore more than the dressing gown and robe as goose bumps flew over her skin. They returned to her chamber door and Kameron looked down at her again.
“See? Nae one about. Just as I said.”
“Kameron, would you be serious?”
“Good Lord, why? I’m afraid you have me at the wrong time if you wish seriousness. Tomorrow morn, maybe. Right at the moment? Definitely nae.”
“Please?” she whispered.
He rolled his eyes and sighed again. “Oh, verra well, love. You are a difficult woman to please. I wonder if you realize it. I will humor you. What should I look for this time?”
“Your guards.”
“Where?”
He was grinning now.
Constant narrowed her eyes. “Everywhere!” she hissed.
“Well, I was trying to ignore the situation, but if you insist on my noticing how many men callers you are entertaining, who am I to argue? Which man must I challenge first?”
“Kam!”
“What now?”
“They aren’t here for me and you know it.”
“They’re here for me?” His eyebrows rose as well as his voice. “You certain?”
“Kameron, please don’t do this. You’re making it worse.”
“Impossible, my love. You only need to see the humor of the situation.”
“There is nothing humorous about it.”
“I disagree. I happen to think it verra amusing. You recollect the rug-seller parable I told you of in the loft?”
“What?”
“I have to admit, you certainly put it to use, Constant, love. You make me proud.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You, of course. Look about you. What do you see?”
“I see your guards, Kameron. You know I do.”