by Adams, Alisa
42
The New Laird's New Name
Meanwhile, Ewan was fretting over the matter of Lily and Senga. Since he had found Bruce, his happiness had known no bounds, and he was remorseful about the harsh words he had said to them. Heather and Bruce had recognized that this was part of his nature—he was a worrier and no amount of reassurance could change him.
"For why d'ye no' go an' speak tae them?" Bruce asked, finally becoming exasperated.
"I am afraid." Ewan looked sheepish.
Bruce laughed uproariously until Ewan laughed too.
"Let us go right noo an' see them!" He took hold of Ewan's arm none too gently and all but dragged him down the hill. "Scared o' two sixty-odd-year-old pair o' wee widow women!"
When they got to the house Bruce looked at his father grimly. "Deep breath, shoulders back!" he ordered and knocked on the door.
It was answered by Lily, who smiled at Bruce and scowled at Ewan.
"Before you close the door on me, Mistress Lily," Ewan began, "I came to beg your forgiveness. I had no right to say the things I did and I am heartily sorry. You did what you thought was right, and my son thinks so too."
Senga came up behind her sister. She had heard the apology, and she too smiled at Bruce, then addressed herself to Ewan. "You came back when the bairn was nigh on three months old, my Laird," she said sternly, "he had bonded wi' his ma an' she wi' him. It wid have been cruelty itself tae separate them, an' that's why we lied."
"An' I am glad ye did," Bruce said warmly, stepping forward to hug them both together. "Withoot the two o' ye I widnae hae had my wonderful ma an' pa, an' I wouldnae hae met Bridie an' Heather - or you. So, tell him he's forgiven or I'll get nae peace."
The two sisters looked at each other, then nodded.
"Aye, M'laird," Lily said, "it's tae yer credit that ye didnae gie up on him! Sich love an' determination!"
"Come in an' hae a wee drap o' that lovely whiskey ye left here last time."
"It's only ten in the mornin'!" Bruce said in amazement.
"Pfft!" Senga laughed. "We're celebratin'."
"Would you like to come and visit the estate at Fraserburgh?" Ewan asked the day after what Heather had termed 'Reconciliation Day'.
"Fraserburgh is a lang way away, m'laird," Bruce said doubtfully. They were exercising their horses along the line of the River Gar and Heather smiled as she watched them from her window. Things were going just as she wanted them to.
"Stop calling me that," Ewan said abruptly, "I am your father, for heaven's sake!"
"Whit shall I ca' ye then?"
"What did you call your adopted father?"
"I ca'ed him 'Pa,'" Bruce replied.
Ewan thought for a moment. "Could you bear to call me 'Father’? He asked tentatively, then he recoiled from the look he got from the blazing silver-gray eyes.
"I could not," Bruce said definitely, "I will ca' ye by your first name, Ewan. It's a nice name onyway."
"I'm glad you like it," Ewan laughed, "that's settled then. Tell me, do you think James would come with us if you do? He is a pleasant young man and quite lonely, I think."
Bruce shrugged. "Ask him," he said simply. "He can say 'naw' if he wants tae. I will ask Heather aboot oor plans for the future, but I dinnae think Dundee holds many charms for her onyway."
"You will come back to Invergar?" Ewan asked.
"For a while, I think," Bruce replied, "jist so Heather can dae whitever she has tae dae wi' the school, then we'll think aboot oor plans again."
Ewan Sinclair's arrival had wrought quite a change in Heather's and Bruce's lives, Heather no longer had her own allowance - she was still disinherited - but Bruce now had one of his own. At first, he had protested, saying that he had done nothing to deserve it, but Heather had persuaded him to take it.
"Think how much good we could do with it," she pointed out, "we could help the school, give Sadie a stipend for the teaching, even set up a little hospital for Lily and Senga."
So, he had conceded, even though he felt like a fraud. He did not want to be a Laird. Anyway, what would he call himself? Laird Sinclair or Laird Ferguson?
"Laird Ferguson of Sinclair," Heather said in her usual practical fashion.
"Why did I no' think o' that?" Bruce kissed her, smiling. Heather never ceased to amaze him.
Now Ewan asked a question he had been afraid to ask up till that moment, but he had got to know his son better and now knew how best to approach him. "May I ask something personal?" he said gently.
Bruce looked at him frankly. "Aye," he replied, "ye're my faither. Why should ye no'?"
"I wanted to ask you about your first wife," Ewan replied, "what was she like?"
Bruce's expression softened. "She wis tender, kind, and clever," he said, looking into the distance and the past. "She made me laugh and when we made love she made me cry because it was sae wondrous. The day she told me she was wi' child wis the happiest day o' my life an' the day she died was the saddest. I wanted tae kill maself."
"But you didn't," Ewan went on, "is that because of Heather?"
"God, naw." He laughed. "We hated each other!
The Laird frowned. "Why?"
"I was shoein' her horse when Bridie died." He paused and swallowed deeply to stop himself from showing the emotion he felt. "And I held it against her for months."
"What happened?”
"We - met on the path an' jist talked," he replied, smiling, "an' efter that it wis easy tae talk. Then we realized we loved each ither, an' naebody was mair surprised than me!" He laughed softly. "We found a place where we could be thigither an' then we eloped and set up hame in Dundee. Heather wis worried, so we came back tae tie up oor affairs an' then we met you. Noo, I'm no' sure."
The Laird nodded. "Do you know anything about farming?" he asked.
"I knaw how tae mend a plow," Bruce answered doubtfully, "an' that's it."
"Would you like to learn?"
Bruce shook his head decisively. "I'm a blacksmith," he said, "I will never be onythin' else."
The two men rode on in a comfortable silence, watching the river birds and the occasional rabbit who came to drink in the water. Presently, they turned around and began to ride back towards the castle again.
"How do the two ladies compare?" Ewan asked cautiously.
"They are like oil and water!" Bruce laughed, "Bridie was gentle, and Heather is - well - no' gentle at a'! She is like ane o' you rabbits hoppin' fae burrow tae burrow. Aye busy on somethin'! But afore ye ask - I dinnae love ane mair than the ither. Ane's here an' ane isnae, that's a'. An' I widnae change a thing aboot Heather."
Ewan nodded slowly. "I loved your mother like that," he said softly, "and I loved my second wife, Eileen too. But I loved your mother far more."
"I am glad tae hear it. Whit was her name?"
"Georgina. She hated it."
"I dinnae blame her!" Bruce laughed, "so I hae two half-sisters? How old?"
"Kirsty is eighteen and Claire is fourteen," he replied, "and they look like you and me. Both Georgina and Eileen had light brown hair but the darker looks prevailed. They both have deep blue eyes like mine."
Bruce smiled.
"They are beautiful girls," Ewan said proudly, "they will make good wives for two lucky young men—unless they find a handsome blacksmith, that is!" He winked at Bruce, and they rode back.
Heather was dreading the day when they had to return to Dundee to sort out their affairs. They had been away for only two weeks, but it had felt like a lifetime for Heather. During that time, she had managed to arrange some funding for the school, had bought some teaching materials out of her own savings, and hired a bright young male teacher from Aberdeen. He was learned, studious and not very handsome, but he had a great sense of humor and was well-liked. When Ewan Sinclair offered to pay his salary, Gordon McVey was shamed into doing it himself. Heather had won.
Gordon himself was not quite sure what to do about Bruce. Having shunned him before, he could not no
w graciously welcome him into the family now that he was a nobleman—that would be hypocritical in the extreme. As James rode around the estate with him during the day the Laird McVey became tired of hearing about the exploits of the great Bruce Ferguson, and James was not blind to the fact.
"Father," he said one day after another tirade about how sick he was of Heather's husband. "You don't have to hug and kiss him—just be civil to him. I am sure he doesn't love you any more than you love him."
Gordon laughed cynically. "I can do that," he conceded, "but if he can keep out of my way that would be much better."
"Father," James pointed out, "if you had accepted him, in the beginning, this would never have happened."
Gordon thought for a moment. "Is he receiving an allowance now?" he asked.
"Heather said so," James nodded, "why?"
"I wondered why Heather had not asked me for hers again."
James sighed. "She never will, Father," he replied, "it is quite clear you dislike her husband and that is enough for her, but she speaks to you and is polite to you. However, that is all the regard you will ever get. You said she was dead to you and this is as close as she can become to obliging you in that regard. Make no mistake, Father, if you ever try to come between her and Bruce, or make her choose between you, you will never see her again. She simply does not love you anymore, whereas Bruce is her whole world and you brought it on yourself."
"How dare you speak to me like that?" Gordon asked indignantly.
James shrugged. "Because I'm the heir to your estate, Father," he said smoothly, "if it is not I, and you have disinherited Heather, then it's cousin Iain, and I know how much you love him!" Then James walked away, leaving Gordon to wonder why his family was disintegrating before his eyes.
43
Nora
The day came when Heather and Bruce had to return to Dundee to sort out their affairs and bring back some of their possessions. Heather had toyed with the idea of buying a house there for holidays and business trips, but they had both decided against it in the end. Heather had grown very fond of her father-in-law, not least because he looked so much like Bruce, and was sad to see him go.
"You will see me before too long," he consoled her as he embraced her for the last time. "And we will have a ceilidh at my castle to celebrate the return of my long-lost son!"
Heather kissed him with tears in her eyes. "I have grown very fond of you, Ewan," she said warmly, "and I can't wait to see you again."
Bruce stepped forward and hugged his father, who showed every sign of holding onto him forever.
"I can't believe I found you," he whispered, kissing his son's cheek. "Look after yourself until we meet again."
"Aye, an' you an a', Ewan," Bruce said roughly, also affected by the emotion of the moment.
They stood back and waved as Ewan's horse disappeared down the valley, then they said goodbye to James, Katrine, and Jessica before departing themselves. The Laird McVey was conspicuous by his absence.
"When are we going to see your mother for a proper visit?" Heather asked as they rode along.
They had gone to see her on their way down to Dundee but not on the journey back. The two women had taken to each other at once, and Heather had even charmed Nora's husband, who was somewhat taciturn and stern, although Bruce assured her that he had a heart of gold. Now Heather's conscience was bothering her.
"Aye, ye're right," Bruce agreed, "but it's a' your fault, sweetheart."
Heather frowned. "And why is that?" she asked indignantly.
Bruce laughed. "Because ye are sae damn desirable!" he replied, "a' I want tae dae is find an inn an'—"
"Don't go any further, you beast!" She laughed. "But seriously, we must go and see them."
"Let us get oor business done first," he answered, "it willnae take long." He reached over and took her hand in his and they rode for the next ten miles hand in hand.
Life is wonderful, Heather thought, as she looked into the gray eyes smiling lovingly into hers, now all we need is a baby!
As Bruce had predicted, it did not take them long to wind up their business in Dundee. They handed the keys back to the landlord and gave notice to their employers, then spent one very passionate night in an inn before leaving early next morning.
"I cannot believe this is happening," Heather whispered, as Bruce slowly took off his clothes in front of her. She loved to watch him do this. Afterward, he would take hers off too, and they would embrace each other, standing naked, skin to skin, looking into each other’s eyes. Then it would take only a moment for him to become aroused and completely lose control.
Now he looked at her, puzzled. "But we dae this nearly every night, Hen," he protested.
"Not that," she replied, "I cannot believe that our lives have changed so much in the last few months. We have found each other and you have found your father - I am just so happy."
"Me an' a', hen," he said tenderly, before laying her on the bed and kissing her passionately.
He ran his hands over every part of her, lingering on her breasts and teasing out her nipples with his thumbs. When he touched her in her secret place she gasped with pleasure and smiled into his eyes, which were dark with desire.
"I love ye mair than my life, Heather," his voice was husky as he entered her, holding her hands captive above her head.
"I want a baby," she whispered, "give me a baby, Bruce."
Then she had to stop talking, as she spiraled upward to ecstasy.
Afterward, Bruce lay with his head pillowed on Heather's breasts, listening to her heartbeat. "I could lie here forever," he murmured.
"You would get too hungry," she pointed out.
"Aye, there is that," he conceded, laughing.
When Nora opened the door she almost fell down with astonishment and delight. She hugged Bruce as if she would never let him go and he picked her up, laughing. She was so tiny compared to him! Heather had bought her a modest but very pretty blue-gray dress in Dundee and she put it on at once. It was a trifle too large, but Nora declared herself delighted with it and said she could soon make it fit.
"So, lass," Nora said, pouring tea. "How is married life treatin' ye? Is he good tae ye? Disnae beat ye too much?" She winked at Heather.
"Hardly at all, Ma," Heather giggled. "Only when I deserve it. I beat him far more!"
"Aye, Ma," Bruce grimaced. "She can be awfy cruel wi' yon rollin' pin!"
Nora smiled when she saw them laughing, touching and looking into each other’s eyes with such love that it made her own heart fill with happiness. She had thought never to see her son happy again.
"Ma," Bruce said at last, "we have a big bit o' news."
Nora looked at Heather.
"Ye're with child!" she said excitedly.
Heather laughed. "I'm afraid not, Ma," she replied regretfully, "not yet, anyway."
Bruce leaned forward and took her small hands in his own big ones then kissed them. "Ma," he said softly, "my natural faither found me, an' he's a Laird."
Nora stared at him. "A-a Laird? But how is that when we are only common folks?" She looked at him aghast for a moment. "Ye're serious?"
"Aye, Ma," he smiled, "but you're my mither, always wis, always will be, so dinnae worry."
"I wisnae worried, son, but it's a bit o' a shock!"
"Aye, it is," he agreed, "but I will be able tae buy ye that wee hoose ye aye wanted, and ye can hae a nice big flower garden—an' Tam can retire."
Nora gasped and put her hand over her mouth. "Ye cannae gie us a' that money, son!" she said, her eyes wide with amazement.
Bruce laughed. "Ma, I could never gie ye onythin' before," he pointed out, "let me gie it tae ye noo."
Nora burst into tears, then Bruce picked her up, sat her on his lap and wrapped his arms protectively around her. They were sitting like that when Tam came in.
"Heather! Bruce! Nora—whit's wrang?" he asked anxiously.
"We just told her some good news," Heather answered, smiling.<
br />
"Ye're with child?" Tam asked eagerly, putting a hand on her shoulder.
She stood up and kissed him. "Not yet, Tam," she said regretfully, "sorry. Even better than that. Tell them, Bruce."
Before he had the chance, however, Nora blurted it out. "Bruce is a Laird!" she cried, Tam burst out laughing.
"Sorry, lass, for a minute I thought ye said—"
"She said I'm a Laird," Bruce said, "come an' hear the story. Heather, you tell them."
Tam's eyes were wide with amazement, and by the time Heather had finished they were almost round. "So, are ye no' Bruce Ferguson ony mair then?" he asked, puzzled.
"Bruce Ferguson, Laird Sinclair," Heather supplied proudly.
"An' Ma is still Ma an' you are still Tam," Bruce reassured them. "There will be nae airs an' graces roon' here."
"And we will do our very best to get you the grandchild!" Heather promised, her eyes twinkling with mischief.
Bruce gave Tam a new kilt which was received with great delight. They dined on Arbroath smokies and new potatoes that night, then Heather produced some fresh raspberries and thick farm cream before Bruce unveiled a very good bottle of single malt whiskey.
Tam and Nora Colquhoun had not had such a good meal for years, and Heather thoroughly enjoyed their anecdotes and earthy humor. Bruce and she had intended to stay at an inn that night but Nora would not hear of it. They only had one bedroom, so Bruce and Heather were ushered in and the door firmly shut, while Tam and Nora slept on the floor of the living room.
In the morning after breakfast, Nora kissed her and smoothed Heather's cheeks with her rough hands. Heather smiled at her as Nora pressed into her hands a little silver cross on a fine silver chain.
"This was Bruce's when he was a baby," she whispered, "and I want ye tae hae it fir yer first ane, lass."
"Thank you, Ma," Heather whispered, "we will be back soon, I promise."
"I knaw, hen." She kissed Heather again, then hugged and kissed Bruce, looking up into the light gray eyes that always made her heart melt with love. "Look efter yersel', son," she murmured.