Highland Wishes And Dreams: Scottish Regency Novella

by Evans, Bronwen

  Highland Wishes And Dreams

  Scottish Regency Novella

  Bronwen Evans

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Epilogue

  Afterword

  Excerpt: A Kiss of Lies

  About Bron

  Also by Bronwen Evans

  Discover other works by Bronwen Evans

  At

  www.bronwenevans.com

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.

  Highland Wishes and Dreams © 2019 by Bronwen Evans is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2019 by Bronwen Evans

  Excerpt From: Bronwen Evans. “A Kiss of Lies.” Copyright © 2014

  Chapter 1

  Inverness, Scotland, June 1819

  Finn threw the missive in the fire and wished his anger burned as bright as the flames, but all he felt was despair. He leaned on the mantle wishing the last two months had never happened. Wishing his sister had never married and left home.

  However, on top of Wen’s death he would never have thought his best friend would dishonor his late sister’s marriage contract.

  “He has refused?” Finn’s mother could not believe it either. “Why?”

  How did he tell his mother that all the note contained was the word ‘no’?

  “Well, my boy, you will have to go to Banff Castle and retrieve the ring. I gave that to your sister to be handed down from mother to daughter. The marriage contract clearly states that if Wen died without a daughter, the ring returned to me. If I am dead it comes to your sister, Emily.”

  He stood, running a hand through his hair and wishing he was out riding his estate along the bank of the River Ness, rather than dealing with his mother’s obsessive desire to reclaim a family heirloom. His mother had plenty of rings.

  The fact the ring was Wen’s made his heart heavy. He wanted to keep his sorrow buried deep inside, but this talk of the Campbell emerald made him remember that Wen was dead. Nothing would bring her back. His laughing, sweet, younger sister was dead.

  Campbell was his mother’s maiden name, and it was a Campbell heirloom passed down from mother to daughter through the centuries that was the cause of this disagreement with his brother-in-law. He still could not believe Wen would have no daughter to give it to. Now it would be Emily’s, and he wondered how his younger sister, Wen’s twin, felt about it all. Emily was married and her husband, the Duke of Paisley, was shouldering her grief. And thank the lord she’d given birth safely to her son not long after Wen’s funeral.

  Finn understood it was grief more than anything driving his mother to act this way. Just as he hoped it was grief making Andrew wish to keep what belonged to their family. An emerald ring that was over five hundred years old. A ring thought to hold a special power. His fists clenched by his side as he stared into the flames. If it held special power why had it allowed his twenty-two-year-old sister to die in childbirth?

  “Mother, Wen died delivering a grandson. Surely you want to be able to see him grow up? To ensure he hears stories about his mother so he will know her. Only you can do that. Is fighting over a ring worth losing contact with Jake?”

  He wanted to ensure his mother was not cut out of Jake’s life, or himself for that matter. He would have Wen’s son grow up knowing what a wonderful woman she was. It just might cost him a friendship with Andrew as well, if this was not handled delicately.

  However, his mother was right, they needed to return to Banff Castle. It was only a two-day journey along the coast from Inverness to Banff by carriage, or a day on horseback, not far at all. The quandary was how did he intrude on the Earl of Banff when he was in mourning? His relationship with Andrew MacDonald, Earl of Banff had been strained since Wen’s funeral.

  “My Lord, there is another missive. It just arrived.”

  Finn turned to take the parchment his butler handed him. It was addressed to Finn Wilson, Viscount Stuart. Very formal but the script was very feminine. He broke the wax seal surprised to note it was Lord Banff’s seal.

  Dear Lord Stuart

  I extend an invitation to your family to attend the christening of Jake Andrew Fraser MacDonald, Viscount Carthor. The christening will be held on 10th July at the chapel at Banff Castle.

  I realize we are still in mourning for your sister but she would not want Jake to be left unbaptized for long.

  You and your family are welcome to stay for as long as you would like. You will always be welcome here at my brother’s home.

  Your friend

  Lady Galina MacDonald

  He held in a curse only because of his mother’s presence. It would seem Jake had been given the courtesy title of Viscount Carthor. As a young boy he remembered first meeting Andrew, who had also born that title. They had become friends at hello. He would never have guessed they would end up at this point—mourning his little sister’s death in childbirth.

  Andrew should have invited them, not his younger sister. Galina had been Wen and Emily’s best friend and she too must be hurting. What must it have taken for her to have to write such a note? A part of Finn was jealous of the fact Galina was now mistress of Banff Castle instead of Wen.

  “Galina extends an invitation to Jake’s christening.”

  His mother stood and moved to his side. She cupped his cheek. “Wen would have wanted this.”

  His anger surfaced. “She’s been dead less than two months and life goes on as if she had never existed.” Pain flooded him.

  “Not true. Her son is her legacy and he needs to be baptized.” His mother stepped back. “It also gives us a reason to go to Banff Castle and retrieve my ring.” At his silence his mother added, “I can’t be the first woman in our history to lose the ring. I’ve lost Wen, but I still have Emily. The ring belongs to her now. I can’t bear to lose the heirloom too. I just can’t.” And she burst into tears.

  He enveloped his mother in his arms and let her cry. A part of him longed to cry too, to let loose this pain of Wen’s death, but Viscounts, and more importantly, Scottish lords, did not cry. They took care of everyone else and buried their pain to let loose alone in their cold, lonely beds.

  “I’ll write to Galina and tell her we will arrive around the beginning of July.” His mother’s sobs quieted at his words. “I promise I will get the Campbell emerald back for you. Wen would have wanted Emily to have it.”

  She stepped out of his arms and wiped her cheeks. “Thank you.”

  Chapter 2

  “A coach is coming up the drive, my lady.” Her housekeeper stood wringing her hands at the bottom of the wide commanding staircase.

  Mrs. Wilson’s news sent waves of excitement and crippling sorrow sweeping through Galina’s tired body. Finn and his mother were here, and she could use the help—both with her brother and with Jake. Oh, they had a wet nurse and nannies but the weight of being responsible for the wee babe, given his mother’s death, fell on her. She pushed aside all thoughts of seeing the man who owned her heart and focused on the most important issue, which was holding this family together before it imploded. This was not the time or place for romantic nonsense. Besides, Finn had never shown anything other than friendship toward her. All of them were still grieving Wen’
s death, but Andrew…

  She’d spent the past half hour trying to rouse Andrew. Trying to make him want to live. Andrew refused to get up. He remained in a drunken stupor. The same stupor he’d been in the past two months. It was impossible to get too angry with him. He had lost the love of his life and he’d shut down. What broke her heart is he refused to see Jake, and Jake needed his father now more than ever.

  “Their rooms are ready?”

  Mrs. Wilson nodded. “Aye. The fires are being lit now.” Even though it was summer, the nights still got a bit cool. Banff Castle, while well kept, was not the warmest. Some of the bedchambers still had small windows so sunlight rarely penetrated.

  “I’ll come down to welcome them. Ready the drawing room. We shall take refreshments there first.”

  She stood on the landing torn between going to her room to change, and going up to check on Jake. She looked down at her drab day-gown and went with the love filling her heart. She went up to get Jake. The baby was her world. She owed Wen. She’d promised her friend everything would be all right. Instead, she’d sat holding Wen’s hand as Jake came into this world, and then squeezing tight when Wen left shortly after. She choked back a sob.

  Besides, Lady Stuart and Finn would want to see him.

  She’d received a letter yesterday from Emily saying that she could not travel for the christening. Galina understood why. Emily had safely delivered a son five weeks ago. The pain, sorrow, and guilt at her joy must be hard for Emily to bear.

  Even though heavily pregnant and probably in fear of her upcoming birthing, Emily had stood at her twin sister’s graveside and bid her farewell. It broke Galina’s heart that the life Wen had planned of her sister’s son being the same age and growing up together would go on, but not with Jake’s mother.

  At the nursery door Galina stood for a moment and breathed in the baby smells. She’d always wanted children, and although sitting through Wen’s harrowing delivery and death had diminished her obsession somewhat, she still longed to one day hold her own babe in her arms. The risk was there but the reward… she looked at Jake and knew the risk was worth it.

  Only she needed a husband for that and her second obsession—Finn—was making it impossible for her to face the prospect of marriage to another. She longed for Finn to suddenly see her as more than his sister’s friend. She was hoping for a miracle.

  She made her way carefully downstairs with the sleeping babe in her arms. Jake was such a good baby and he usually slept peacefully between feeds. She settled herself in the drawing room and waited for Lady Stuart and Finn to be announced. Her heart was pumping fast just knowing Finn was here. She just wished it were under better circumstances.

  Mr. Wilson, the butler and Mrs. Wilson’s husband, didn’t even have time to announce her guests before Lady Stuart rushed in and headed straight for her grandson. Galina stood and without a word handed the boy to her. The tears began to roll down Lady Stuart’s cheeks but you could see the love shining through the sorrow.

  “He has Wen’s eyes.”

  Galina didn’t say anything she merely nodded. She had wondered if this was why Andrew could not bear to look at his son. Jake looked like Wen.

  Just then she heard the heavy steps of Finn coming up the stairs. She turned to greet him and had to force a smile to her lips. As soon as he entered the room her knees grew weak and the familiar excitement stirred her stomach. Handsome was too tame a word for the likes of Finn Wilson, Viscount Stuart. She imagined him as a warrior of old, tall, broad shouldered, bulging with muscles, and his hair was as black as a moonless sky. But it was the kindness beaming from the bluest of blue eyes, and the smile always on his succulent lips that drew most women. Since Wen’s death both had fled.

  He looked haggard, and she suspected she looked haggard too. The last two months had been terrible.

  “Hello, Gal,” she loved the way he used her nickname. It reminded her of how close the two families are—were…

  “Finn,” and she moved to press a kiss to each cheek. He smelled of horses and hot musky male. He smelled wonderful to her. “I have your rooms ready if you’d both like to freshen up?”

  Finn looked around the room. “Where’s Andrew?”

  She couldn’t hold his gaze. “He’s indisposed at present. I hope he’ll be down for dinner.”

  Finn’s mouth turned down. “I see.” The silence said it all. Normally Andrew would have been here to greet his best friend with a smile on his face and warmth in his words.

  Thankfully Mr. Wilson and a servant arrived with refreshments and Galina indicated Finn take a seat. Lady Stuart was standing at the window talking softly to Jake who lay quietly in her arms.

  “How is Andrew coping?”

  Finn had poured himself a whisky and settled into a chair by the fire.

  Did she tell the truth? Maybe some of it. “Andrew has not been himself since Wen’s death.”

  “I saw at the funeral that he took my sister’s death hard. I know he loved her very much.”

  Galina nodded as she watched Finn pour half the whisky in his glass down his throat. “It hit all of us hard. I had hoped Jake would help him through his grief.”

  Galina wished she was sipping something other than tea. Something that would heat the cold deep inside. Before she could stop herself, she added, “He won’t see Jake.”

  Finn sat up straight and she heard Lady Stuart gasp. Finn rose to his feet. And made for the door.

  Galina jumped to hers. “Where are you going?” But she knew. “Don’t be too hard on him.”

  Finn swung to face her. “Hard? He has responsibilities. He has a son to look after. A son that my sister died bringing into this world. The boy has lost one parent, he deserves a father.” With that Finn left the room.

  “Oh, dear,” was all Lady Stuart said.

  Galina fell back onto the settee. “Perhaps I should—”

  “I wouldn’t, dear. Andrew needs someone to pull him out of his sorrow and remember he has much to live for.”

  “What if he can’t,” Galina whispered softly. That’s what she was scared of. What if Andrew never recovered to his happy, generous self? The bitter, angry version was not someone she wanted to be around, nor did she want Andrew taking his anger out on Jake.

  “Finn will help him. You’ll see.”

  Galina sat silently chewing her bottom lip. She prayed Finn could work wonders because she had not been able to get through to her brother. She’d even taken Jake to his room once, but Andrew had merely roared at her to get the babe out. He’d frightened Jake and the babe had started screaming. She had not taken Jake to see his father since.

  “I hope you are right.”

  Chapter 3

  With a heavy heart Finn made his way to the Earl’s bedchamber. He remembered hiding under the late Earl’s bed with Andrew when they were mere boys. Playing hide and seek with the girls, their sisters.

  Galina had looked tired when he arrived. She had big black circles under her lovely hazel eyes, and her usually silken fair hair was not clipped upon her head emphasizing her slender neck. It was hanging limp around her face. She hadn’t even bothered to dress for visitors. Normally she took such pride in her appearance. She was a lovely Scottish lass, and he had thought a few times about courting her before some man stole her away. He loved her. How could he not? She was good, kind, with a happy soul, like her brother. So much like her brother. But he wasn’t sure if he was in love with her. Until he was sure he would not act. Now that he’d seen what could happen to women in childbirth, he wasn’t sure he wanted to be in love with her.

  After Wen’s death he could not stomach the idea of taking a wife. What if Galina died in childbirth? He didn’t know if he could face the guilt. Which is why he was here to help his friend. Andrew… Andrew must be consumed with grief and guilt, yet it was not his fault. No. Finn blamed God.

  He didn’t even knock when he reached the door to Andrew’s bedchamber, he pushed it wide open. The stench hit him immed
iately, as well as the darkness. All the curtains were drawn and empty whisky bottles littered the floor. He moved to the bed pushing aside the bottles with his feet, and pulled the bed curtains aside. Bottles littered the bed too.

  Andrew lay on his front and didn’t even bother to open his eyes. “Whoever you are, get out.”

  Finn ignored the barked command and moved to the windows drawing back the curtains and throwing the windows open. He put his head out the door and called for Andrews valet, Larry. “Get a hot bath drawn for his lordship. And tea.”

  Larry was about to say something but merely nodded before fleeing.

  When Finn reentered the room, Andrew had finally rolled onto his back. He was unshaven and his hair looked as if it had not been washed for weeks. “Who the bloody hell made you the lord here?” he roared at Finn.

  He stood at the end of Andrew’s bed with his hands on his hips and sighed. “I’ve organized a bath. You will wash and get dressed and join us downstairs.”

  “You can go to hell.”

  “I will put you in that bath myself if I have to.”

  “I’d love to see you try.”

  Finn raised an eyebrow. “You’re hardly in any state to stop me. You’re drunk and all flab.” Andrew glanced away. “It’s time to get up and rejoin the world.”

  “I don’t want to,” his words came out on a growl like a wounded animal.

  “Not even for your son. For your and Wen’s son.” Finn’s heart clenched as a tear rolled down Andrew’s cheek. “You know Wen would not want this for you. She would have been so proud of bearing you a son. She would want you to love him. To tell him stories of his mother that only you would know.”