Her Accidental Highlander Husband (MacKinlay Clan)

by Allison B Hanson

  Mari sat down and unfolded her napkin. How she missed eating in the great hall at Dunardry with her husband.

  But the dowager wouldn’t appreciate Mari’s tears for another man. Dabbing at her eyes, she wondered how she hadn’t wept herself dry by now. She’d cried herself to sleep each night since leaving home. She wondered if Cam had gotten back to the castle yet. Had he read her letter? Was he angry with her?

  She was fairly certain she knew the answer.

  “When will they be coming to take you away?” The dowager’s rusty voice disrupted Mari’s thoughts of home. Mari sensed concern in the woman’s voice but decided she must have imagined it. Surely the dowager wouldn’t worry about Mari.

  “I’m sorry to disappoint you. I was taken before the court yesterday, and it was decided to postpone my trial until after I deliver.”

  The dowager’s eyes widened in surprise. “You’re with child? But how?”

  “I remarried in Scotland. It was a bit of a misunderstanding, to be honest. I certainly hadn’t planned to marry again, ever. However, it turned out to be a great blessing. He is a wonderfully kind man. And now we’re having a child.”

  “A child you’ll never see grown.” The older woman frowned and looked out the window.

  Mari would have thought she looked wistful if the crabby woman were capable of such an emotion. Or any emotion at all, save annoyance and bitterness.

  “I understand you’re angry with me. I can’t imagine the hatred I would feel for someone who hurt my child, and I haven’t even met my babe yet. But I am to stay here until I deliver and have been tried. If you do not wish to share the house with me, perhaps you could retire to the country estate.”

  “Richard, the new duke of Endsmere, was recently married so he can do his duty to produce an heir, and he is installed there. I’ll not invade their privacy at this time.”

  The woman had always been cold. She’d not once come to visit here at Blackley House, no matter how many times Mari had extended the invitation.

  “In case you’re hinting that I didn’t do my duty to procure an heir, it is clear I am capable of conceiving.” She wouldn’t go into the details and tell his mother how her son had hated his wife so much he could barely look at her, let alone lie with her.

  “I do not hint. If I have something to say, I will say it straight out.”

  That was what Mari was afraid of. “As will I.”

  “I suppose the gaol was not suitable for someone of your station and condition.” This was muttered into the dowager’s tea. “They were unable to find another place for you?” she asked more directly.

  Mari had never felt welcome here. It had been a living hell for her, but never had she felt so alone as at this moment. She gathered her pride and sat up straighter, donning her best fake court smile. “I’m afraid I’m not permitted to leave. We’ll just have to get on as best as we can.”

  The dowager made an unhappy sound and pushed her plate away. “How unfortunate.”

  …

  Upon his arrival to London, Cam was directed in circles, until he finally came to stand in front of a shiny black door at a fancy town house. He dropped the elaborate brass knocker, and the door opened almost instantly.

  “Good evening, sir. May I help you?” The man was quite small, despite being full grown. His look of unease at the sight of him made Cam feel slightly better.

  “I’m here to see Mari.”

  The man took him in from foot to forehead, then shook his head. “I’m afraid there is no one here by that name.” He began to shut the door.

  Cam threw out an arm to stop him. “Wait. I meant the duchess. Marian.”

  The man’s eyes took him in again, hovering at Cam’s dusty kilt. “I’m sure you can’t expect to be let in…”

  “Of course not.” Cam frowned. “Will you go check with your mistress and see if she’ll allow me to enter?”

  The fact the man hadn’t said she was dead gave Cam a feeling of hope he hadn’t felt since he’d arrived home from his false errand with the McCurdy.

  “Do you have a card?” the man asked.

  “I’m afraid I do not. You’ll just have to tell her my name.”

  “Which is?” The man’s nose went into the air.

  “Cameron MacKinlay. War chief of Clan MacKinlay. Her Grace’s husband.”

  The man swallowed before closing the door, which remained firmly shut for a few minutes. Cam was about to reach for the bloody knocker again when the door whipped open and Mari launched herself into his arms.

  It was like that day in the field, except now he knew how precious she was. As on that day, she clung to him as if the hounds of hell were yapping and snapping at her bare feet. But instead of fear, she cried and showered Cam with kisses.

  He set her down so he could look at her and wipe the tears from her eyes, and he nearly collapsed in relief right there on the front step.

  “Please, Your Grace,” the skinny butler urged. “Come inside so the door can be closed. We wouldn’t want the neighbors to witness your reunion.”

  Mari laughed and allowed the man to pull them inside and close the door.

  “You’re alive,” Cam whispered, and kissed her again. A medley of feelings rushed through him. He’d been numb since he’d heard the news of her surrender, but suddenly he was able to feel again.

  At least for now.

  …

  As much as Mari had not wanted Cam to be there when she turned herself in, she was grateful for his presence now. She had gained a reprieve until she gave birth, and she could think of no one she’d rather spend her gift of time with. She had missed him so much.

  “We must speak. In private,” he said when he released her from the kiss. He eyed the butler, who was attempting not to stare at them and failing.

  Mari knew what would happen when they were alone. Cam’s happiness to find her alive simmered with an undercurrent of anger. He was very angry with her for leaving him. Maybe it was the house and the horrible memories that lurked in nearly every room, but she shivered as she nodded and led him to the parlor and closed the door.

  Lucy’s eyes went wide when she and Cam entered. “Should I stay, Your Grace?” the maid asked.

  “No. That isn’t necessary. Please excuse us. I’ll make introductions later.”

  When Lucy was gone, Mari turned to Cam with her best smile. “You must be famished. Let me order a tray of food.”

  “I’m near starved, but I don’t want food this minute. As I said, we need to talk.”

  Mari nodded and let her gaze drift to the floor.

  “Look at me,” he ordered. “I thought to find ye dead. The least you can do is look me in the eye for the hell you put me through.”

  She met his gaze to see his whisky-colored eyes shimmering with tears. It was enough to bring her own as she reached for him.

  Instead of allowing her to touch him or take her in his arms again, he held her wrists, keeping her apart from him. “Why? Why would you have made a plan that dinna include me?”

  “You know why.”

  He shook his head. “I know you made a decision that destroyed me without telling me. Do I mean that little to you, wife? Do ye not care at all that my heart nearly shattered into pieces so small I never thought to gather enough to make it work again?”

  Tears continued to stream down her cheeks, dripping off her chin. She’d known he would hate her for her decision, but she’d thought—in time—he’d understand and think her courageous for protecting their people.

  “Can you really look at Douglas, or Roddy, or wee Cameron, and condemn them to death in exchange for me?”

  “There had to be another way. This…this is madness.” Running a hand through his hair, he turned back to her. “When will it happen?” he asked, his voice dropping in anguish.

  “Excuse me?”


  “I was sent all over this goddamned place to find you. The whole time I expected to do nothing more than retrieve your body to bring it home for a proper burial. In a way, I thought it a blessing not to have to see it done. But I’m here now and find you’re still alive. I’ll be there with you. Whatever you face, I’ll not leave you here alone.” His voice caught, and he swallowed heavily. “How much time do we have? We’ll relish every minute together.”

  She wished there was a better way—a better time—to tell him, but there wasn’t.

  She took a deep breath and plunged right in. “My trial has been postponed until after I give birth to our child.”

  Cam looked at her, blinking. Then his eyes went wide. “A child?”

  She was immediately grabbed up into his large, strong arms. As quickly as she’d been drawn against him, she was forced back a few steps. He held her firmly to keep her steady on her feet. “Tell me you didn’t turn yourself over to them knowing you carried our child?” He looked as though he would break in a thousand pieces.

  “No. I didn’t know until after I arrived here.” She let out a breath and twisted her fingers. “I wish I could tell you it would have made a difference. That maybe I would have stayed, but I don’t think that’s true.” She shook her head. “The babe and I are but two people compared to the lives of the entire clan. Everyone who lifted weapons in our defense would have been struck down. The ones left would have been starved out or worse. Don’t you see? I will lose no matter what choice I make. At least this way, I will face what is to come knowing I’ve protected those I love. You and our child will be safe. That is what matters most.”

  Cam’s eyes had gone dark, and it was clear he wanted to argue. Instead, he reached for her again and held her close, gentler this time. “You are a brave woman, Mari. We have been given a great gift, along with more time together. Let’s not waste it in discord.”

  She leaned back, resting her chin on his broad chest so she could look up at him. Gone were the darkness, fear, and worry in his face. Though, she knew they simmered just under the surface of the wide smile he offered now.

  “I’m going to be a father.” The smile faltered slightly. “Do ye think I’ll do it well?”

  Placing her hand over his heart, she spoke the truest words she’d ever spoken. “You’ll be the best father in all the world.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Cam and Mari had been granted a reprieve, and he promised himself he wouldn’t waste a single moment with sadness over what was to come. The months would go by fast enough, and soon the time would come to face what came next. They could grieve and cry and rail against it then. For now they would celebrate the joy of impending parenthood.

  Cam had never wanted to be a husband or a father, but he found both to be comforting. Life had a way of giving a person the things they should have rather than what they thought they wanted.

  He placed his hand on Mari’s belly, sending wishes of health and happiness.

  “Let’s live these days as if we have a hundred years to follow. We’ll not speak of a future beyond the next day, and the next.”

  It had worked for them in the past. Those days they’d been happy together and had put their fears aside so they could focus on their love.

  She nodded in agreement. “Yes.”

  Before he’d had a moment to request a bite to eat or a place to wash, she’d launched herself at him. With her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist, she kissed him so hard he stumbled from the attack.

  Then a different hunger took over. “Where do you sleep in this place?”

  She pointed toward the stairs and he took them two at a time. At the top, she gestured toward the end of the hallway. “Last on the right.”

  He made his way down the never-ending corridor, vaguely noticing the stern faces on the paintings along the way. Apparently, the previous dukes of Endsmere didn’t approve of a man ravishing his wife in their corridors. They could all go to the devil.

  He sat her on the edge of a fancy bed draped in the finest fabrics. She already had his belt undone and was tugging at his kilt when he stayed her with a hand on hers.

  “This isn’t the bed you shared—”

  “No. I never stayed in this room until I returned.”

  That was all he needed to know. He gave in to his growing desire and rose over his wife as she wriggled under him. He rested at her entrance and then stopped.

  “The babe?”

  “Will be fine.” She shifted, pulling him down, and he went gladly.

  The first time was rushed and frantic. He was just so overjoyed to find her alive and carrying his babe. He couldn’t contain his happiness. The second time, he was able to make it last. He treasured every touch and smile between them.

  Afterward, lying there with her in his arms, he had no choice but to face the reason he had fled his home to come to this godforsaken place for this woman.

  Cameron MacKinlay—the war chief of Clan MacKinlay—was in love with a tiny duchess on trial for murder.

  Fate had a cruel sense of humor.

  Later, after they rested a bit, Mari requested a tray be brought up for their dinner. The meal they received was hardly enough for him, let alone to share with a woman who was increasing. Even so, he’d pushed more of the food on her, wanting to keep her healthy. Now, as dawn made its claim on the day, he silently gathered his dusty clothes to go forage for breakfast before he grew weak with hunger.

  He didn’t know how to go about a meal in London. He hoped to find the kitchens and gather what he needed himself. He’d take enough to feed Mari as well, so they could keep to their bed as long as possible. There in her room they were safe from the truth of the situation. It was easy enough to pretend they were back in Dunardry, despite the fancy bedclothes, the fabrics on the walls, and the elaborate bed.

  At the bottom of the stairs he encountered a man standing next to an open door. In Cam’s haste to be with his wife, he’d forgotten to ask if she was alone in the house.

  The man was impeccably dressed, with a haughty demeanor. His eyes remained straight ahead. Cam looked down at himself and decided he looked a mess. It was no wonder the man didn’t care to glance his way.

  He opened his mouth to say something. Maybe explain to the snotty Englishman that he was in a shambles because he’d been kept in a dungeon for days by a man he’d once loved as a brother. Then he’d ridden like hell for London, and even so he had looked fairly decent…until his wife got her hands on him the night before and dragged him to her bed.

  “Good day, sir,” the man said with a bow. “Would you care to take breakfast? It’s been set out.”

  A servant. The man was dressed better than all the lairds he’d ever seen in Scotland. Cam’s brows creased, but the smell of meat made his feet move forward.

  “Aye. That would be fine. Thank you.”

  A brief shift of his eyes was the only sign the other man was surprised by Cam’s crude Scottish tongue.

  Following the man’s gesture, Cam entered a room and gaped at the amount of food sitting ready on a large sideboard.

  “How many people live in this house?” he asked before the servant could leave.

  “Two—or rather three, now that you’ve arrived, sir.”

  “I see.” Cam frowned at the feast before him that would rival a celebration at Dunardry. “In that case, I’d best not let it go to waste.” Grabbing up a plate, he helped himself.

  He was finishing his second plate when the sound of small approaching feet called his attention to the door. With a smile in place, he waited expectantly for his wife to enter.

  The gray-haired woman who stepped into the room was clearly not his wife. Even if Mari had aged forty years in one night, she would never look so shriveled and dour.

  The old lady gasped and clapped a hand to her chest. “Parkes!” she calle
d in a frantic voice. The man who had escorted Cam into the room stepped closer. “We’ve been set upon by barbarians!”

  “I’m to understand this is your daughter-in-law’s new husband, Your Grace,” the man said formally, casting an unsure glance toward Cam.

  Cam stood and took a step closer to introduce himself, but the small woman scurried behind the servant as if Cam planned to finish off his meal with her leathery flesh. Another step from him forced a squeak of worry.

  Good God. He wasn’t that fearsome.

  “Thank ye for your hospitality, Your Grace. I am Cameron MacKinlay, Mari’s husband. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” He attempted a bow, since it seemed to be the way of things here. Damn if he knew whether he’d done it correctly.

  “I assure you, the pleasure is all yours,” she said harshly, taking another step backward.

  Cam smiled at the old biddy. Being orphaned at the age of eleven, of necessity he’d mastered the art of charming the older women of his clan into giving him treats. Occasionally, he’d gone so far as to lavish compliments on them to win a coin here and there. He’d always been able to bring them around to thinking him sweet.

  He wasn’t certain the dowager duchess of Endsmere had ever been charmed in her life. If so, it was surely six hundred twenty years ago, judging by the creases of her permanent frown.

  But he was a war chief, and not one to back down from a battle. Even when the enemy was a formidable old goat with a scowl so intense she put some of his warriors to shame.

  He stifled a chuckle.

  This was going to be great fun.

  …

  Mari woke to the sound of screaming. Not wishing to give in to the nightmares of her past, she snuggled deeper into her warm blankets and reached out for Cam.

  He’d loved her well the night before, but she was far from done. Kenna had mentioned how the cravings of pregnancy weren’t limited to those for food. At the time Mari hadn’t understood, but she surely did now. Though an egg and a bannock wouldn’t go amiss as well.

  When her hand found the end of the bed without encountering the warmth of Cam’s skin, she opened her eyes. She was in London, not Dunardry. And the yelling she’d heard wasn’t a dream from her former life, but real and now.