Her Accidental Highlander Husband (MacKinlay Clan)

by Allison B Hanson

  “I’m not leaving,” he insisted.

  “I don’t want you there at the end. I don’t want you to have that awful sight to dwell on. I want you to always remember me alive and happy. Please? When you think of me, think of us laughing and smiling and making love.”

  “You ask too much, Mari. I’m only a man. I promised to protect you with my life. I can’t just walk away.”

  “You aren’t just a man, Cam. You’re also a father. And I expect you to do what you need to do to make sure you can see that task through. Protect Elizabeth. Keep her safe and give her a happy life. That’s all I ask. And give her this.” She placed the locket he’d given her in his hand. “I snipped a bit of my hair and put it inside so she’ll have a small piece of me with her always.”

  “I don’t want her to have a small piece. I want her to have all of you, alive and well to love us both. Please, Mari.” He tried to give it back, but she wouldn’t take it.

  How was he supposed to keep Mari alive for his daughter with naught but a few stories and a lock of her hair?

  “We both knew this day would come. We’ve lived the last months with happiness in our hearts, but the shadow has closed in. The day has come, and now we must face it bravely.”

  “I’ve been trained to fight my entire life. And now, for the biggest battle of my life, you ask me to lay down my sword and walk away in defeat?”

  “Yes. That’s what I’m asking you to do. Leave tomorrow night with Elizabeth. Take her home.”

  Cam wiped at the tears on his face. “I love you. God knows I tried not to, but I couldn’t help it.”

  “I love you, too, husband.”

  They managed a kiss through the bars. He reached for her hand and squeezed it.

  “Goodbye, Cam,” she said.

  “I’ll not say goodbye. I can’t.” With that, he turned and left.

  …

  Mari felt numb as she lay on her filthy pallet that night, listening to the sounds of dripping water and small rodents scurrying to find food.

  Somehow she’d managed to still have hope when she’d walked into Guildhall that morning. Despite what she’d said to Cam, she’d told herself there was still a chance they would hear her and one of them would have compassion for a woman who only did what she’d had to do to survive.

  It was a crushing blow to be so wrong.

  She shivered from the chill and closed her eyes. Pushing out the reality of the prison, she recalled the beauty of the MacKinlay lands. The hills, the flinty outcroppings of rock. The grove of trees and the stream that ran through it. The field where she’d met Cam.

  Home.

  She was surprised when the guard arrived to wake her.

  As she’d predicted, the trial went on in the same manner as the day before. She tried her best to remain calm, but as they continued their attack on her reputation she finally reached her breaking point and railed at them for their behavior.

  If she was destined to be executed, she might as well unleash her fury on them. Unfortunately, all it served to do was to exhaust her and make her seem unreasonable. When it was over for the day, she nearly begged them to just be done with it.

  As on the day before, Cam came to see her. But this time he brought Lizzy, as she’d asked.

  “Hello, love.” She greeted their daughter with a smile. “I’m so happy to see you.”

  Her daughter fussed and Mari longed to hold her. It wasn’t possible through the bars, but she reached out to touch and caress her daughter.

  “Please, Mari. I beg you,” Cam said quietly as tears slid down his cheeks.

  “I was afraid to love you, too,” she admitted. “I feared that if I loved you, it would be too difficult to leave you when the time came. But love made it easier to leave, in order to protect you. Love makes it easier for me to say goodbye now, too. Because I love you so much, I want only happiness for you. Always know I loved you with all my heart.”

  “I’ll not forget,” he said so softly she barely heard him. Then he turned and walked away with their daughter.

  When he was gone, Mari curled into a ball and cried herself to sleep.

  …

  Cam could not sleep. His body was tired, but his mind continued to search desperately for a way to save his wife.

  She’d made it clear she wouldn’t approve of an illegal rescue. She didn’t want to condemn them to a life on the run. But she would be alive, and it would be a life together. It might not be easy, but he wanted to try.

  Except it wasn’t just about him anymore. He was a father. He needed to do the best thing for Lizzy. And if he ended up in an English prison, he wouldn’t be there for her.

  He couldn’t take both of her parents away and condemn her to grow up alone, as he had.

  It was an impossible situation. One that couldn’t be solved with his brawn or a sword. Maybe if he weren’t so exhausted, he’d be able to come up with a smart way out of this.

  He was distracted from intense contemplation by his daughter’s cries. He rose to go to her, but before he managed to get to the door, the crying stopped. Worried as to the cause, he hurried into her room.

  There he spotted the dowager leaning over the crib. She raised Elizabeth in her arms, and Cam gasped. What did she plan to do to his child? He could only imagine the worst.

  “Please, don’t hurt her. She’s all I’ll have left after tomorrow,” Cam begged, knowing he couldn’t make it across the room if the woman chose to drop the babe on the floor.

  His hands were raised in a nonthreatening manner as he stepped closer.

  She looked at him aghast. “I wouldn’t hurt this child.”

  “You don’t seem to like bairns all that much, especially ones spawned by two Scots.”

  The dowager made a noise that would have been a snort if it weren’t coming from someone so aristocratic.

  “I don’t care who her parents are. She’s an angel.” The dowager rocked the babe and smiled down at the infant in her arms.

  Cam relaxed a little, though still a trifle wary. “I have to be honest and say it’s because she looks like me.”

  “Arrogant wretch,” the dowager said without her usual bite of distaste.

  “I think she is the most beautiful babe ever created,” he said, serious now.

  “By Scots,” the dowager amended.

  His jaw dropped. “Did you just make a joke, Your Grace?”

  “Aye,” she answered, using his own word.

  He laughed and stepped closer, completely at ease now. When she made to hand Lizzy over to him, he shook his head. “Go ahead, if it pleases you.” He even pulled the rocking chair over from the corner so she could sit. “Does your foot still bother you?”

  “It’s much improved. Thank you.” She sat and rocked the baby with a stiff smile on her lips. She wanted to say something else. He could tell. It was the time of night one needed to unload worries and often sought out a place of peace to leave them.

  “Is something bothering you?” he asked.

  “I think you have enough worries of your own than to take on mine, as well.”

  “I need a rest from my own. I canna do anything for them.”

  “I’m sorry this is happening. I wish now I’d done more.” Her face softened with sadness and regret.

  Cam understood. She probably thought she might have helped her son if she’d known of his problems. It was Cam’s experience that some people were inherently evil and couldn’t be helped.

  “You didn’t know.”

  “That’s just it. I did know.” She frowned. “I once had a daughter named Elizabeth.”

  Startled, he cocked his head at her. “Is that so? I wonder why Mari didn’t mention it when we chose the name.”

  The dowager pushed out a shaky breath. “She didn’t know. My daughter died many years ago.”

&nbs
p; A prick of sympathy went through him. “I’m sorry. Mari’s sister lost a babe once, and it haunts them still.”

  “Children have so many things stacked against them. It’s a parent’s job to protect them. That’s why I’m the one to blame for my Eliza’s death.”

  He studied her thoughtfully. He’d never before seen such emotion touch her expression as now. “I doubt that’s true,” he said kindly. “I think we often take on more guilt than we’ve truly earned.”

  She shook her head. “Sometimes. But not in this case.”

  She seemed to want to tell her story, so he gave her the opportunity. “What happened?”

  She was silent for a long moment, then she began in a voice thick with emotion, “After having five boys, my husband and I were blessed with a girl. Her older brothers doted over her. She was their princess, always cheerful and happy. But when she reached about ten, she became quiet. Not having experience with little girls, I thought it normal. But nothing about the situation was normal. It was only a few months after her eleventh birthday that I found out she was with child.”

  Cam gasped in shock. “Good lord. I’m so sorry,” he said, knowing his words were inadequate. He almost hoped she wouldn’t finish the story. There could be no happy ending for this beastly tale.

  “Of course I made her tell me who had touched her. I expected her to name a servant or a visitor. I would never have guessed it to be her own brother. Mathias was nineteen, heir to the dukedom.”

  Mathias. Cam had never heard the duke’s given name before.

  The dowager paused to gather herself, and Cam was grateful for the moment to put his thoughts together.

  Good God. Mari’s former husband had defiled his own sister. A mere child. Cam knew the man had been a monster, but he’d never realized he was this vile. Not just cruel and violent, but truly depraved.

  The dowager’s eyes closed. “We needed to do everything possible to mitigate the scandal and protect Eliza. I sent her off to our country house while I stayed behind to deal with my son. My husband wanted him charged. I wanted to protect my daughter, and I knew a trial would end with her ruined and no real punishment for Mathias. He was a future duke, after all. So I forbade it.”

  Cam remembered the scars on Mari’s breasts, and how she’d told him her husband didn’t like her body, saying her breasts were too large. He’d been unable to perform. He hadn’t liked her body because it belonged to a woman, and he was attracted to—

  Cam swallowed down bile and once again wished the sick bastard had still been alive so he could bloody his sword on him. Surely there was a special hell for that kind of beast.

  The dowager continued with an unsteady voice. “I sent Eliza away with one of the maids. When I arrived at the estate a day later, I learned my little girl had fallen over the second-floor banister and died.”

  The old woman didn’t cry. No doubt she’d cried endless tears over the years and had finally made what peace she could from the scraps of truth. Cam felt great sorrow for her. It made sense now why she’d built those thick walls around herself. Holding a foul secret like this inside for all these years would eat away at a person’s soul.

  But a small part of Cam wished she’d done things differently. If she’d allowed her son to be arrested and charged, maybe Mari would have been spared her ordeal.

  He understood the dowager had done what was needed to protect her family.

  In the end, at the expense of his own.

  He didn’t speak for fear he would end up yelling at her and getting kicked out of the house. It was much too late to take his wee daughter away to find another place to stay for the rest of the night.

  “I wasn’t able to protect Eliza,” she said quietly. “Nor was I able to protect Marian.” Her breath caught on a slight sob. “But by God, I will not fail this little one. I’ll do whatever I must to make certain my son doesn’t hurt another innocent person.”

  She pressed her thin lips to Lizzy’s head and held her up for him to take.

  He scooped up the baby and held her close, using his other hand to help the older woman out of her chair when she struggled.

  “For a Scottish brute, you’ve been ever so kind,” she said without meeting his gaze, and left the room.

  When he heard a door close down the hall, he looked at his daughter. “She’s a touch batty, but I can’t say I blame her for it. If someone hurt you, I’d have their head removed from their body, as well as a number of other parts.”

  He took the chair and rocked his already sleeping daughter. It would have been safe to place her back in her cradle, but he wanted to hold her a little longer.

  “I’m still not ready to give up,” he said softly. “I have to keep thinking.”

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Through the night while holding his baby daughter, Cam’s sadness faded and was overrun by intense anger. How dare Mari ask him to give up on their life together? How dare she not fight to be with him and their child?

  She was ready to stroll up to the gallows and face death without protest.

  It would be easier for her. She’d be gone. One more day and she’d not know this pain—the intense pain Cam would feel for the rest of his life. Or the empty spot in Lizzy’s life where her mother should be.

  “No. No. No!” He slammed his fist on the breakfast table, making the dishes rattle.

  The dowager hadn’t come to breakfast, which was good. In this mood he would most likely call her out for not stopping her son from taking a second wife and hurting her as much as he had his first wife and his young sister.

  But as mad as Cam was, he wouldn’t lay any more guilt at the poor woman’s feet. He’d seen the torment in her eyes. She had been imprisoned by it for nearly her whole life. She’d punished herself enough.

  Unable to eat, he stood. After seeing that Lizzy was safe with the nurse, he left Blackley House for the trial. Mari had asked him not to come back. But he couldn’t stay away. He needed to be there for her. He might have a chance to spirit her away, and he needed to be ready.

  …

  Mari awoke only a few hours after she’d managed to finally fall asleep. She’d always had trouble sleeping over the years, whether from excitement or fear. But last night was different.

  It was difficult to spend the precious little time she had left in sleep. Today she would be found guilty and ordered hanged for murder. And those few hours she’d spent sleeping could have been better spent thinking of her husband and daughter. Or her sister and her wee nephews.

  It led her into thinking of all the time she’d wasted. Such as all those nights after she’d first come to Dunardry. If only she’d known how short their time together would be, she would have spent it loving Cam from the very first minute.

  She knew there was no sense worrying. What was done was done. And in several hours, her life would be over, too.

  Cam would take care of their daughter. As would her sister. She trusted them both to do the right thing for Lizzy.

  As Mari was led into the chambers to face her punishment, she’d expected to feel somewhat at peace. There was nothing else she could do, after all.

  But that wasn’t the case. She found herself wishing she’d made plans to escape with Cam. She wasn’t ready to give up. She wanted to be alive, to have a life with her husband and daughter.

  It wasn’t fair. She’d only done what she had to do to survive. But to those who judged her, that meant nothing.

  She gasped when she saw Cam’s head towering over the rest of the crowd.

  He was still here. He hadn’t left her as she’d asked.

  Which meant there was still hope. A chance he might come up with some miracle to get her out of this.

  She met his gaze and nodded, wishing they had a moment to speak in private. To plan.

  She wanted to apologize for giving up. If only there were ti
me…

  The booming voice of the head magistrate cut through the air. “If there are no other witnesses to be heard, we shall—”

  The justice was cut off by a single word from the back of the room. It was much too soft and feminine to have come from Cam, and it came from the opposite side of the courtroom.

  The crowd murmured and parted until a small, regal woman made her way toward the front, her head held high and her lips pinched. Her cane clicked against the floor as she approached the men who were to decide Mari’s fate.

  “I will be heard,” the dowager duchess demanded, and stepped closer. “Bring me a chair. This will take some time.”

  Mari sat there in shock. This woman she’d finally befriended—or so Mari had thought—the person they’d just months ago shared a warm and companionable Christmas with, had come to put the final nail in Mari’s coffin. A sliver of betrayal sliced through her heart.

  But Mari had killed her son. So she couldn’t rightly blame her.

  One thing Mari knew, now that she had a child of her own, was that she would punish anyone who harmed her daughter.

  But as the dowager began to speak, it soon became clear she was not there to condemn and convict, but to defend Mari.

  Mari felt dizzy with surprise and gratitude. Even if it came to nothing, she felt humbled and thankful for the dowager’s support— She was so incredibly brave, sitting there in public court in front of everyone telling her grim tale.

  Mari wept for the mother who chose to spill her family’s darkest secrets in order to help Mari. The pain the woman must have lived with all these years!

  As Mari listened, so many things began to make sense. She felt vindicated, certain in the knowledge that she hadn’t done anything to earn her unhappy marriage or her terrible fate. The man was sick and twisted. It wouldn’t have mattered whom he’d taken to wife; that woman would have ended up one of two ways—dead at his hands, or a murderer herself. Just like Mari.