The Bowie Bride: Book Two of The Mackintoshes and McLarens

by Suzan Tisdale

  Give her the words. To leave God’s earth in peace, or to stay. Alec played Mairi’s words over and over in his mind as he paced the hallway. What if Mairi was wrong and Leona could not hear him? Worse yet, what if she was right and Leona misunderstood?

  When Mairi stepped out of the room, she had taken with her a bundle of blood-soaked bedsheets. The lump in his throat seemed to have taken up permanent residence, for it prohibited him from articulating even a slight whisper.

  Alec stood for a long while, working up the courage to speak. He’d forgottten to ask if Leona knew she had lost the babe, or even if she was still feverish. Taking a deep breath, he moved toward her.

  She appeared at rest, peaceful and serene as she slept. That answered his first question. Nay, she did not know.

  Heedful of her broken arm, he climbed into the bed beside her. Fully clothed and atop the covers, he lay on his side and watched her. As she slept, he twined a lock of her hair around his finger, as he had done countless times before. In the quiet stillness of the night, he gave the words to his wife.

  “Leona,” he whispered softly. “I do no’ ken if ye can hear me or no’, but there be things I need to tell ye, lass. Important things.” He took a deep breath as he thought on the best place to start. “Dougall be safe, as are his sons. They be in the room right across the hall. He be doin’ much better, thanks to ye. I saw him standin’ up without help not long ago.” He paused, fighting back his anger toward Effie before he mentioned her name. “Effie be in the dungeons. Nay, I’ve no’ given sentence yet. I wanted to hear yer thoughts on the matter first.”

  Leona did not stir, or give any other indication that she heard him. Still, he needed to keep talking to her. “There be a good deal of people prayin’ fer ye, lass. No’ just the men either. The womenfolk too. Once they realized what Effie had done, the lies she had told and rumors she had spread, they finally came to their good senses.” ’Twas all true. Over the last two days, the womenfolk had been dropping by the keep to see if there had been any change in Leona’s condition. Many brought food, stews, meat pies, and sweets. With his men still standing watch below stairs, the food was much welcomed. As were the kind words and apologies.

  “There be somethin’ else I need ye to ken lass,” he took a deep breath before going on. “Leona, ’tis true me life has no’ been the same since ye arrived. And fer that, I be forever grateful to ye. For the whole of me life, until I met ye, I never wanted a happy home. I think it was because my mother always bragged about what a happy home she provided to her husband and sons. But ye see, ’twas anythin’ but that. ’Twas filled with hate and malice, harsh, ugly words, and aye, a few chamber pots crashin’ against the walls. Me mum, she claimed she loved me da. He claimed she loved his coin and drivin’ him to madness. He taught me from an early age, never to give me heart to a woman. ‘She will use it as a weapon against ye!’ he would claim. I looked up to me da, fer he was such a strong, big man and people thought him important. In truth, I was just a little boy vyin’ fer his love. Love he never gave.”

  Alec was admitting things aloud for the first time in his life. ’Twas cathartic and after a while, he began to feel as though a heavy weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He hadn’t realized until then that he had been carrying that anvil of hurt around all of his life.

  “I owe ye so much, Leona, I truly do. Ye showed me that a man can give his heart to a woman without fear. I realized, too late now, it appears, that I am no’ me father and ye are no’ me mother. There be no’ a malicious bone in yer body. Ye be nothin’ but all that is good and right in this world.”

  He pressed a tender kiss to her forehead as his eyes grew damp. “I love ye, Leona. I think I always have. But I was too afraid to admit it. Please, Leona, do no’ leave me. I need ye, lass. I love ye.”

  For hours Alec spoke to Leona, though she never gave any sign that she heard him. He told her of his childhood, of the kind of brother Rutger had been before greed and avarice took over his heart. He told her stories of when he fostered with the MacGregors and the fallout that happened when they learned the truth about who he was. He spoke of his time in Italy, France, and Germania, and how he hoped he could someday show her all of the world that he had seen.

  He shared his fears and worries, the truth about what had transpired during his visits — or lack thereof — with their neighboring clans. Any thought that entered his mind or heart, he shared with his sleeping wife.

  At some point in the night, he must have finally succumbed to exhaustion and fell asleep beside her. When he woke next, Leona was still fast asleep beside him. With the furs drawn to keep out any chill, ’twas nearly impossible to tell whether ’twas day or night.

  Quietly, he left the bed to relieve his bladder. He splashed cold water over his face and neck. Drying his face and hands against the linen cloth, he was heading across the floor to add more kindling and wood to the fire.

  He cast a glance at his wife. One hand lay on her stomach while tears streamed down her face.

  “I lost me babe.”

  From the moment she awakened, Leona knew something was wrong. Her stomach felt odd. Cold and empty. No one needed to tell her what she already knew. She had lost her babe. She could feel it even before she placed her hand on her abdomen.

  Weak from lying abed for God only knew how long, she was unable to keep the tears at bay. At once, she was consumed with grief and agony. Bitter tears of remorse fell from her eyes.

  She cried openly and without restraint, repeating the same phrase, I lost me babe! I lost me babe! She cared not who heard her plaintive wails of grief, cared not who might be witnessing the single most difficult moment of her life. Alone, or in front of a thousand eyes, it mattered not.

  She’d lost her babe.

  The one thing that she would ever be able to call her own. The only person who would love her without condition. The one life that would matter more than her own. The one person with whom she could shower all the love in her heart and no one would judge her for it.

  God! Where was Alec? Why was he not here? Did he know? Did he care? Leona slipped into an abyss of torment and bereavement, a dark, empty place.

  Mairi, Patrice, and Adhaira had heard Leona’s cries echoing off the walls of the keep. They came running, from different directions, and raced to her room.

  Alec was beside her, doing his best to comfort her, but to no avail. She screamed and cried out, banging her hands against his chest, begging for someone to take her own life, for now, she was completely and truly alone.

  Mairi was quite certain Leona knew not what she was saying. Still, her sorrow was as real as the sun rising and setting each day. During those times of severe loss and sadness, a body sometimes said things they did not mean. Leona did not want to die any more than Mairi wanted to grow a beard.

  They had pushed Alec away, off to the side, while they did their best to console their friend.

  When Mairi realized their attempts were failing, she sent Adhaira below stairs for hot water, and Patrice across the hall for her bag of herbs. While she ground the herbs in her mortise, Adhaira brought a mug of hot water. It took time to properly steep the herbs, all the while, Leona wept against Patrice’s chest. Great, wracking sobs, as her shoulders shook and hands trembled.

  There was not a woman in the keep who could not sympathize with her pain and suffering. Though Mairi had never married, had never been with child, she could well imagine how badly Leona hurt.

  Once they were able to get enough of the potion inside her, she began to calm. A little while later, she was once again fast asleep.

  Mairi wiped the sweat from her own brow with her apron and let out a slow, steady breath. ’Twas then she realized Alec had left.

  “She has a long path ahead of her,” Mairi told Patrice. “I only hope Alec be strong enough to help her down it.”

  Dougall had sent word that he wanted to talk to Alec. Reluctantly, and only because the last thing he wanted was to bring his friend mor
e pain, Alec went to see him after the noonin’ meal.

  Patrice had taken the boys outside for some much needed exercise and fresh air. So Alec and Dougall sat alone in the quarters Dougall was sharing with his sons.

  Dougall took one look at Alec and declared, “Ye look worse than I do.”

  Alec could not argue the point, even though he hadn’t seen his own reflection in days. He grabbed a chair and sat next to Dougall, who was resting in the big feather bed. His color had much improved over the past days. His skin no longer held the pallor of death. His lips were no longer red and cracked and his breathing sounded stronger. But his eyes bespoke more than anything that he was far from fine. There was a deep sadness in them.

  “Alec, ye must know I had no idea what Effie was doin’,” he told him.

  Alec raised a palm to halt his apology. “Dougall, I ken that. I do no’ hold ye to blame fer anything that has transpired.”

  He look much relieved at hearing that.

  “Have ye told yer boys yet?” Alec asked. God, he did not envy this man right now.

  “Nay, I have no’,” he admitted. “I fear I do no’ ken what to tell them. ’Tis the truth that I am lost.”

  “I have only told them that their mum is quite ill,” Alec said. “Fer that is the truth. She be sick in her mind, Dougall.”

  “And her heart,” he replied with a good deal of sadness. “I never saw it, Alec. I never once saw her as anythin’ but me kind, sweet wife.”

  Alec thought on that for a long moment. “Mayhap, because that was what ye wanted to see. Ye knew, did ye no’, that Eduard was Wills’ father?”

  “Aye, I did,” he said sadly. “I only married her because Effie’s da, Edgar, begged me to. Had I ken then, what I ken now …”

  “’Tis always easier to see things clearly after the fact,” Alec told him.

  “I feel like a fool, Alec. I was married to her for more than eleven years. I fathered at least five of her children. Or at least I believed I had. Now, now I can no’ be certain of anythin’. Me entire world has fallen apart.”

  Alec rubbed the back of his neck for a moment. “I ken verra well how that feels, Dougall. But no matter whose blood runs through the veins of the boys who call ye da, ye are their father. They need no’ ever ken the truth of it.”

  “Nay, I need to ken, Alec. What if someday they fall in love with a lass and she turns out to be their half-sister? Nay, I could no’ do that to them.”

  “Mayhap ye should ask Alyce first. Think ye she would know?”

  “Aye, she might. Effie was always her favorite. Thick as thieves they were, though ’twas always Patrice that Alyce turned to whenever she wanted fer somethin’.”

  ’Twas an odd family, that branch of the Bowie tree.

  “Have ye decided what ye will do with Effie?” Dougall asked.

  Alec gave a slow shake of his head. “Nay, I have no’. I wanted to speak to ye first, and to Leona. The two of ye were most hurt by her actions.”

  “God, Alec!” Dougall exclaimed. “Do no’ ask me to pass judgment on the woman! I have her sons to think of!”

  “I only meant, that if ye wished to speak to spare her life, I would listen.”

  Dougall let out a relieved, heavy breath. “’Tis the truth I ken no’ what to do, or to think, or even to feel.”

  “Then we shall wait on it, cousin. We need not move quickly, fer she is safely locked away. We can wait to make our decision.”

  Little did either of them know that Effie Bowie had already made the decision for them. Less than two hours later, they would receive word that she had taken her own life. Apparently, the necklace she was wearing at the time of her capture, contained a fatal poison.

  The following few days were the worst of his life. Leona seemed to have withdrawn from the world around her. He knew not what to say or how to console her, to help her with her grief.

  Although her fevers had subsided, she was far from healed.

  Alec would enter their chamber, feeling rather like a child who knew not what he should do. He wanted to help, wanted to comfort her, to tell her all would be well. But the fear he would make matters worse usually overruled those thoughts. And those few times he did manage the courage to speak, she would turn away and stare at the wall.

  For hours, he would sit by the fire with a blank expression, while Leona would cry softly into her pillow. Each of them were suffering, but neither knew what to do about it.

  Alec, out of fear and respect, slept on a palette in his office. He had tried, that first night, to sleep next to Leona. But ’twas impossible, for she slept so fitfully. Tossing and turning, mumbling things he couldn’t understand. So he left the bed to her in the hopes she would be more comfortable.

  An unseen chasm of torment and sorrow now separated the two of them. Give her time, Mairi would tell him. She needs to work through this on her own.

  Believing he knew very little about such things, he took Mairi’s advice.

  On a dark, dreary day less than a sennight after Leona had learned she had lost the babe, one of Alec’s guards came rushing into the keep. Alec was in the gathering room, looking absentmindedly into the roaring flames of the hearth. “M’laird,” he said excitedly. “We have visitors! They be waitin’ fer permission to enter.”

  They never had visitors. ’Twas the cold hard truth. With a curious brow, Alec stood and asked, “Who is it?”

  “Ian Mackintosh and his wife. And some one hundred of their men.”

  Why a cold shiver raked up and down his spine, he could not rightly say. “Have they said why they are here?”

  The young man hemmed and hawed for a long moment before answering. “They say they’ve come to take Leona back.”

  Within a quarter of an hour, Alec Bowie was standing in his study listening to Ian Mackintosh explain the way of things.

  “Me wife and I were quite confused when we received Leona’s letter,” Ian said as he sat next to the fire, sipping on a mug of ale. “Though she did no’ go into details as to the why of things, she made it perfectly clear she wishes to leave. She no longer feels safe here, or even wanted.”

  Alec worked his jaw back and forth as he listened intently. More than a week’s beard covered his face. He had not bathed in days, nor had he eaten much of anything. Before he’d received news of Mackintosh’s arrival, he’d felt as strong as a dying moth. But now? With the news that Ian was here to take Leona back? He was mad enough to bite through steel.

  “Now, I am of a mind that ye and Leona should work this out betwixt ye,” Ian said.

  ’Tis the first intelligent thing ye’ve said since ye entered me keep.

  “But me wife? Well, Rose be of an entirely different mindset.”

  With a facade of stone cold indifference, Alec waited for Ian to explain.

  “Rose believes we should have ye drawn and quartered for injuring her dearest friend’s tender feelings.”

  Alec was not amused. Though he did think rather highly of Rose Mackintosh, he did not think he or Leona needed her interference.

  “Rose also believes that if I do no’ do what I can to take Leona back into the lovin’ fold of the Mackintosh and McLaren clan, then she will make me life a livin’ nightmare.”

  Alec raised one curious brow.

  “Alec, tell me what happened,” Ian said as he leaned forward in his seat. “I will never hear the end of it if I do no’ hear from yer own lips how ye see things.”

  “How I see things?” Alec asked drolly. “How I see things is that a man I once considered my friend is here, in me own home, drinkin’ my ale, and informin’ me that he is takin’ me wife.”

  Ian chuckled and shook his head. “Nay, that be no’ my intent, Alec. I want to ken what truly happened. Why would Leona have written such a letter, beggin’ fer us to come to her aid? To take her back home.”

  “This is her home,” Alec reminded him.

  “Be that as it may, I need to know. All of it. Else, I will be forced to see me wife’s
wishes come true.”

  Rose barely recognized her friend. Leona was pale and gaunt. Dark circles lined her red-rimmed eyes. In a swish of pale blue wool and silk chemise, Rose crossed the floor, sat on the bed and pulled her into her arms.

  “Leona!” she exclaimed. “We came as soon as we could.” She set Leona back to gain a better look at her. “What in the name of God has happened to ye?”

  “I lost me babe,” Leona whispered. Just when she thought she could shed not another tear, more filled her eyes.

  Rose was glad now that she had left her son with one of the Mackintosh women. Seeing the wee babe now might have been too much for Leona. Rose pulled her in for another embrace. As she patted her back, she whispered words of encouragement. “We shall get ye through this,” Rose told her. “Is that why ye wrote to us? Is that why ye want to come back?”

  Leona sniffed as she fought to remember when she had sent the letter. That was more than a sennight ago, closer to two. She’d sent it right after she and Alec had fought that night. That night that had changed everything between them.

  “Why do ye no’ tell me what happened. I will do me best to help.”

  Leona took a deep breath, wiped her tears away, and began to tell her everything that had transpired since she’d married Alec Bowie.

  “My, God!” Ian exclaimed when Alec finished recounting the tale. “She really poisoned her own husband? And tried to kill Leona, just to be chatelaine?” He let out a low whistle.

  “Aye, she did,” Alec replied.

  “Where is she now?” Ian asked.

  “Dead,” Alec said. “She took her own life.”

  Ian sat his mug of ale on the floor at his feet before rubbing his hands across his face. “I fear I know not what to say or do, Alec.”

  “There is nothing fer ye to say or do.”

  Ian chuckled half-heartedly. “I fear me wife will no’ agree.”

  As far as Alec was concerned, he did not care what Rose Mackintosh had to say on the matter of his wife.