My Cursed Highlander

by Kimberly Killion

  “Dadi! Dadi!” a child screamed and burst through their center.

  Viviana tensed.

  “Makayla,” Taveon whispered and released Viviana’s hand.

  Her world went black. Her hands trembled, desperately wanting to see their long awaited reunion. She latched onto Keegan’s forearm. The haze cleared quickly, but Viviana only saw herself—wide-eyed in anticipation. “Do not look at me. Look at them,” she demanded in a tone much harsher than she intended.

  “‘Tis true what Remi said about your sight?” Keegan asked, his gaze still fixed on her features.

  “Sì. Sì!” She didn’t care that he knew. “Please. Look. At. Them,” she ground out between clenched teeth and tempered the urge to rip the hairs from his arm should he not obey.

  Keegan’s gaze shifted toward the rushing child. Strawberry blonde curls bounced against her back as she ran full speed across the length of the hall.

  “Dadiiiiiii!” she squealed with a might that contradicted her size.

  “Poppet,” Taveon yelled, his arms outstretched, his leg bent slightly in front of him.

  Kicking her plaid kirtle, Makayla leapt onto his knee, then encircled his thick neck with her tiny arms.

  A sob hung in Viviana’s throat. Uncontrollable tears rushed over her cheeks. She covered her mouth with the hand not clinging to Keegan’s arms and prayed she might one day hold the child’s affections.

  “Oh, Poppet. I’ve missed ye.” Taveon engulfed her in his meaty arms and buried his face into the small crook of her neck.

  The Goliath she had known in her past convulsed with emotions in this small child arms. Viviana would give anything to have him love her the way he so obviously loved his daughter. A yearning she’d never known spiraled behind her breast. She wanted a family—this family.

  “I missed ye, too, Dadi.” Makayla pulled back and touched Taveon face, her pale hand a contrast against his tanned skin.

  “And what did ye miss the most?” His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat.

  “I missed your nose.” She drew a petite finger down the length of his strong nose, then pecked it with her tiny lips.

  The smile illuminating Taveon’s face warmed Viviana’s insides. He’d never looked more handsome.

  “What else did ye miss?” He brushed a wild curl from Makayla’s long lashes.

  “I missed your songs. Auntie Cora doesnae sing the slumber song nearly so weel as ye.”

  Viviana recalled the tune he’d hummed at night on the ship and then pictured him singing it to this innocent little girl. While Viviana had known he was a good man for some time now, she hadn’t realized just how wonderful, and loving, and sensitive, and… he was everything her previous husbands were not, and she’d been a fool not to see it before now. She wanted to step beside them and be a part of their circle, but feared her eagerness would be unwelcome.

  “I trust ye behaved while I was away?” Taveon squatted, setting Makayla on her feet. “Ye tended your chores and minded your auntie?”

  The child’s head bobbed furiously. “Did ye bring me a gift? I need a new doll. Jack tore the arms off Bonny-Lee.”

  “I brought ye something much bigger.” Taveon reached for Viviana’s hand.

  For a full breath she couldn’t move, but somehow managed to pry her nails from Keegan’s arm and accept Taveon’s hand… and his eyes. She knelt beside him and forced herself to remain calm, regardless of the acrobats doing flip flops in her stomach.

  Taveon looked into Makayla’s excited blue eyes—beautiful eyes, the same color as his—and said, “I brought ye a new mum.”

  Viviana’s heart pounded furiously. She prayed. She smiled. She waited.

  Makayla’s head cocked. The confusion ruffling her little brow nearly made Viviana ill. The music stopped, making the pounding in her head all the louder. The Great Hall grew silent as all eyes were on them, and Viviana was certain they would hear her heart beating.

  Makayla reached out and touched Viviana’s cheek.

  What resembled a streak of lightning flashed in Viviana’s head, then her own face overlaid the child’s, then Taveon’s, then back.

  Oh, God! She could see through Makayla. Viviana let go of Taveon’s hand. The confusion was enough to make her dizzy. Makayla’s world was so vibrant with color, like wet paint on a canvas. In this rendering Viviana could see the glistening tears pooling in her own eyes waiting to slip off her lashes. She blinked and waited for the child’s acceptance.

  Makayla looked back at Taveon. “She will not die?”

  “Nay. She will not.”

  Makayla touched the beauty mark at the corner of Viviana’s lips then caressed her nose with butterfly fingertips, studying her intently. “Then I can love her?”

  Viviana thought Makayla’s question odd, yet painfully endearing.

  “In time, Poppet.”

  Lips parting, Viviana intended to greet the child when she wrapped her cherub arms around Viviana’s neck and squeezed. She smelled like butter and cinnamon… and dirt and she was wonderful. Tears rolled down Viviana’s cheeks as she silently thanked her Maker for His gift. Nothing had ever felt more right. “I’m so very pleased to meet you.”

  A musician strummed a few strings on a lyre and the Great Hall once again filled with merriment. Goblets clinked as Taveon’s kin returned to their conversations. Grateful to have the attention off her, Viviana let herself get lost in the angel hugging her.

  Makayla unraveled her arms too quickly, but held tight to Viviana’s hand. “I have my own chamber. I dinnae sleep in the nursery. ‘Tis for new bairns.” Her gaze lifted toward Keegan, then back. “I can clean my own boots, and I know my letters, and I can swim.” She took a breath and rocked back on her heels.

  Viviana was certain she was trying to impress her with this list of skills. “It is good that you are independent.”

  “I dinnae know that word. Ye talk odd. Did ye come from Heaven? Dadi said the women all go to Heaven.”

  Viviana held back the giggle tickling her throat. She would not insult the child, but was rendered incapable of answering her questions. Fortunately, Makayla didn’t give her time to form and answer.

  “I can gather eggs and feed the chickens, and run the var… ver…” she looked up at Keegan.

  “Vermin,” he supplied.

  “…vermin out of the stable; mice, cats.” She leaned in. “I amnae allowed to have pets.”

  Viviana frowned, recalling the day Taveon tried to leave Miocchi behind. She wanted to scowl at her husband for denying Makayla the joys of having a pet. Instead, she placed two fingers in her mouth and blew a quick whistle.

  Makayla stepped closer when Miocchi appeared beside them.

  “Holy mither!” Makayla’s gaze flickered over the dog standing eye level with her.

  “Makayla!” Taveon scolded in a tone that more resembled humor than actually chastening.

  “This is my pet and he has traveled a great distance to meet you.” Viviana rubbed Miocchi’s ears.

  “May I pet the beastie, Dadi?”

  “Aye.”

  “Can I love him?”

  “Soon, Poppet. Verra soon.”

  Miocchi licked Makayla’s face causing her to giggle. “What do ye call him?”

  “Miocchi. Where I come from it means ‘My Eyes.’”

  “My Eyes,” she repeated. “Is that how they talk in Heaven? Like ye? Are there kittens in Heaven?”

  “Ye have asked enough questions this eve.” Taveon interrupted and cupped Viviana’s elbow, then brought her to stand upright. “Mayhap ye can take the beastie to your chamber. ‘Tis past time for ye to be abed. I’ll be about shortly to sing the slumber song.”

  Makayla’s head bobbed, and she patted her little hip, then made a smooching noise. “Come, My Eyes.” Miocchi pranced alongside her past a woman whose fists were planted on either side of her swollen abdomen.

  She panted, out of breath, and looked as if she might double over in exertion. Keegan stepped up be
side her, one hand at her back, the other on the side of her belly. Viviana didn’t need an introduction to know she was the woman Taveon had traveled across the world to save.

  Taveon waited respectfully while Laird MacKaskill greeted his daughter with a long hug, then Taveon bowed with dignity before her. “Cora-Rose, ye look… exhausted.”

  “Ye would do weel to offer me a better compliment, brother.” She waddled toward them, bringing with her the scent of lemon, and flung a long, white-blonde braid over her shoulder. “Bend down, so I might welcome ye home properly.”

  Taveon bent at the waist and accepted a kiss to each cheek from the woman Viviana thought was easily the most beautiful female she’d ever seen. Pale lashes swept over amber eyes that nigh glowed in the dim firelight of the hall. Taveon looked down and pressed his palm against her enormous belly.

  Envy was a sin Viviana knew well, but she could no more escape the slithering green monster than she could stop herself from wanting to be the woman behind his touch.

  “Ye are so… round.” Taveon’s tone held a whisper of awe.

  “Bleeding Christ. That isnae a compliment. I dare say ye lost your wit as weel as your skill for flattery on your travels.” She slapped his hand away from her person, gaining a playful chuckle from Taveon. “Go with your brother and leave me to become acquainted with your new wife.” She paused, her eyes swept over Viviana. “Ye did take her to wife, aye?”

  “Oh, aye.” Taveon’s gaze left the woman to slide over Viviana’s breasts. “More times than—”

  Viviana gave a threatening tug to a cluster of hairs on his forearm.

  “Ack!” Cora-Rose regained his attention and held up a flat hand. “Begone with your vulgar tongue.”

  Viviana’s ears were sure to be glowing red, but oh she liked this woman and the way she commanded authority. Cora-Rose wasn’t the timid creature Viviana had fabricated in her mind.

  “Before I entrust Viviana to ye, I should tell ye that my new wife is blind.”

  Viviana blew a breath and rolled her worthless eyes. Why? Why did he make it his first priority to tell people of her flaws? She waited for him to also inform Cora-Rose that she was barren.

  Cora-Rose’s dark eyes narrowed on him, her full lips thinned. “Ye are a dunderheid. Might I suggest ye return to Italy and collect your charms.”

  “I only wish to keep her safe.” When he pulled the backs of Viviana’s fingers to his smile, she resisted the urge to extend the distance and pop him in the nose.

  “Think ye it safe to walk from here to a trestle bench?” The sarcastic question didn’t need reply, nor did Cora Rose wait for one. Instead, she hooked her arm in Viviana’s and led her away. “Our husbands can suffocate a woman with their constant guard. ‘Tis verra fortunate for them, they are as braw as the devil himself.”

  Viviana laughed, agreeing wholeheartedly. “Thank you for saving me.” The bloom of friendship eased her nerves.

  “‘Twas my pleasure.” Cora-Rose’s palm curved over Viviana’s fingers. A murky, pink light settled over the blackness in her head. She couldn’t see exactly, but there was something there. A swirling glow, but naught else.

  “Ow.” The woman moaned, her steps faltered just as they reached the edge of the trestle table. She released Viviana’s arm and grunted.

  “Are you ill?” Viviana assisted her onto the bench seat.

  “Nay. The babe is verra active today.” She pulled Viviana down beside her. “Meet my restless daughter, Kenzie Kraig.” Cora-Rose pressed Viviana’s hand to the side of her belly. A phenomenon so foreign to her grazed across the palm of her hand, sending a tingle up her arm.

  The amulet heated against her skin, but Viviana could hardly move. The desire to experience the sensation again nigh paralyzed her. “Do you fear the coming days?”

  “Nay. I trust Taveon told ye of my gift.” Cora-Rose guided Viviana’s hand to the lower left side of her swollen abdomen, where a tiny bulge pushed out of her gut.

  “He did.” Briefly, Viviana recalled that Cora-Rose had been accused of heresy and only escaped execution because of her marriage to Keegan. Viviana didn’t fear the woman’s gift of foresight. In fact, she envied it.

  She felt the movement again and an odd sense of yearning washed through her.

  “I see my daughter in my visions. She has whey-colored curls and a smile that melts her da’s heart. I know all will be weel.”

  Viviana twisted the ring on her finger and battled her conscience. Having met Cora-Rose and Makayla, Viviana wanted nothing more than to see an end to the curse that had plagued Clan Kraig for a century, but she wasn’t yet prepared to give up the amulet’s gift. Especially now that she’d found others she could see through. All of whom were related in some way. Taveon, Keegan, and Makayla all had the blood of Clan Kraig running through their veins. Cora-Rose carried it her womb. Then there was Angelo. How did her young friend fit into her theory?

  The smell of cooked meat and tangy wine interrupted Viviana’s thoughts just before trenchers of food clanked atop the table. Her stomach churned.

  “Are ye hungry, m’lady?” Viviana recognized Remi’s voice as he took up a seat across from her. A shuffling of bodies added weight to the bench, filling their table with Taveon’s kinsfolk. Monroe was close. She knew his zesty, cedar scent well and it was ripe this day. If he had any intention of gaining the clothier’s attention, he would need a bath soon.

  Rubbing her neck, she willed the illness back down her throat. “Thank you, Remi, but I fear the seasickness has followed me ashore.”

  “Mayhap some gooseberry wine would settle your nerves.” A woman spoke beside her and poured drink into a cup.

  She turned toward the voice and inhaled her odd scent. Sweet bread came to mind. Actually, the odor more resembled fruitcake, but also like puppies. The woman’s scent reminded her of Angelo. She smelled like boys.

  “M’lady, I would like ye to meet my Meghan.” Remi’s pride-filled tone spoke volumes about the affections he held for his wife and mother of his four sons which would explain her scent.

  Viviana smiled and raised her hand in greeting. “It is wonderful to meet you. Remi tells me—”

  “I’m the weaver. If there is anything ye would like; a kirtle, a sash, a blanket, then ask and it is done.” Meghan shook Viviana’s hand with a force that jiggled the bones in her arm. Meghan’s skin, though calloused, was feminine, and her warmth and sincerity was exactly how Viviana had imagined her. The woman prattled in much the same way Remi always had, and soon they were conversing overtop themselves.

  “Enough gibberish.” Cora-Rose interrupted in an impatient snap. “Forgive my rudeness, but I cannae bear the niceties. I must know how m’laird responded to the news.”

  “What news?” Viviana asked.

  Cora-Rose paused, but hardly long enough to take a breath. “I’m eager to know how m’laird reacted when ye told him ye were with child.”

  Chapter 24

  Viviana stared at the pitch in her head. The thudding of her heart muted the sounds all around her. Her palm flattened over her stomach.

  How could she be with child?

  Cora-Rose was wrong. Viviana shook her head, trying to recall her last menses. She hadn’t flowed since before Taveon came to the Medici Palace. How long ago had that been? She never kept track. Her courses had never been more than a cruel reminder that she couldn’t bring life into the world. Radolfo had always said her womb was black.

  A useless bowel of cold ash, were his exact words.

  Luciano cared little about siring a babe, but used every opportunity to remind her that her uterus was as worthless as her eyes.

  Her husbands had been fruitless, infertile. Not her.

  Not her.

  “Viviana?”

  She was with child. Viviana told herself it was true. A giddy sense of joy filled her insides. The god who’d abandoned her in the past was giving her a gift, and she didn’t dare question why.

  She blinked, her mouth opened t
o speak, then the demon on her shoulder all but laughed at her foolish gaiety. You are with child, and you are going to die.

  The curse.

  “Viviana.” Someone shook her. “Forgive me. I assumed ye knew.”

  She pushed through the weight of her thoughts and searched for words to form a coherent sentence. “I’m going to die.”

  “Nay. Dinnae be foolish.”

  Taveon wouldn’t want the babe. He’d married her because he believed her barren. Her infertility was one of her greatest attributes. She knew enough about the life he’d lived to know he would push her away. The thought of his rejection filled her with a pain she could hardly bear.

  She clutched Cora-Rose’s arm. “You mustn’t tell Taveon. He can never know.”

  “‘Twill be difficult to hide,” Remi pointed out the idiocy of her brilliant plan.

  Viviana panicked. “Monroe, you must take Remi far away. Tie him to a tree if you must. Do not let him near my husband.”

  “Ye gods and little fishes! Think ye I have a death wish?” Remi defended.

  Monroe cleared his throat. “Ye have my word that Remi will hold to his tongue. ‘Tis a woman’s place to inform her husband of such matters.”

  “I’m not telling him.” Viviana held stern.

  “‘Tis nay reason to fash.” Cora-Rose attempted to soothe her. “Ye brought the amulet home. The curse will be broken.”

  “How can you know this?” Viviana didn’t share her sense of calm.

  “Because in my vision I see my daughter playing with a laddie I once thought was my son, but the color of your eyes now tells me otherwise.”

  “I do not understand.”

  “The boy has purple eyes. Your eyes. He is your son.”

  Viviana’s stomach flipped inside out. “My son?”

  “Aye. Ye are carrying the next chieftain of Clan Kraig. He is as handsome as our husbands and just as ornery.”

  “Oh, cazzo!” She pinched her eyes tight and swallowed the bile rising in her throat. She was going to be ill. “Are we there? In your vision. Are we there with the children?” A long pause made the blood rush from her face. “Answer me.”