In the Highlander's Bed (25 page)

None of them understood. They thought she would recover. Recover into what? The life they chose for her? That was what she’d attempted to escape from in the beginning.

Miranda knocked once more on the door and then did not wait for an invitation to enter. They never did. Not even the maids, of which there were an overabundance. After the simplicity of life with the clan, the duke’s London mansion came across as overly lavish. Constance missed the fresh Scottish air and going to bed tired and happy after a good day’s work.

She stared at the far wall, refusing to acknowledge Miranda in any way…then remembered there was something she wanted to say to her sister. It had haunted her through the wee hours of the night before and she could not find peace until she said, “Alex shouldn’t have cut Brian’s ear.”

There was a beat of surprised silence, and then a distinctlymale voice said, “Brian? Brian McAllister?”

Constance shot bolt upright, moving so fast her head went dizzy. She turned and was shocked to see the Duke of Colster standing by her bed instead of her sister. “Where is Miranda?” She pulled the covers up to her shoulders to modestly hide her night dress.

“She’s outside,” he said, reaching for an upholstered chair and pulling it up to the bed. Without waiting for an invitation, he sat down. “We’ll need to light the lamp soon. It’s almost dark.”

“I don’t want it lit,” she informed him. “I like the dark.”

Page 130

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv
erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

“Your sisters are concerned,” His Grace said. The burr in his voice reminded her of Gordon’s own soft accent. “They’ve patiently come to see you almost every hour for the past several days. I thought I would try my hand at talking sense into you. But first, what happened to Brian’s ear?”

“Alex cut it,” Constance said, not trusting him.

The duke made a commiserating sound. “Miranda warned me that Alex can go to what we would consider excess. It’s the Shawnee side of him. He told me he’d put the willies into you all, but didn’t say what he’d done. But we Scots can be an equally bloodthirsty lot. Brian likes the ladies. He’ll have to let his hair grow so they won’t notice a piece of him missing.”

“It was terrible,” she said, sounding even to her own ears a touch self-righteous.

“Kidnapping is terrible, too. Alex was just protecting his own.” The duke paused a beat and then said, “I have word of Gordon Lachlan. Are you interested?”

All thoughts of modesty fled Constance’s mind. “Yes,” she said, leaning forward. “Tell me. What do you know? Has he contacted you?”Is he looking for me? She prayed he was. He had to be—and then she realized how terrible she must look. Her hair was unkempt and there had to be deep circles under her eyes.

The duke’s gaze dropped to the untouched supper tray on her bedside table. “I will answer you but first you must eat.”

“It’s bad news,” she whispered.

“No, not completely.” He took a glass of lemonade off the tray. “Try this.”

Constance didn’t like being pandered to, but she was also pragmatic. The easiest way to gain the information she wanted was to do as he asked.

She took a sip. The lemonade was sweet and tasted surprisingly good. She drained the glass, realizing at the same time that the walls of the room were painted a soft, dusky rose. The bedding was rose, too.

Rose and cream. The carpet was a pale green over dark wood floors.

Handing the glass back to him, she demanded, “What word have you had of Gordon?”

He held up a finger, reminding her of the bargain they’d made. He took the covers off a bowl of rich, dark broth. “Oxtail. Simple but tasty.” He offered the bowl to her and picked up a spoon.

“I’m not a child.”

“I didn’t say you were,” he answered, flipping the handle of the spoon around to her.

A part of Constance rebelled at this treatment. However, the lemonade had sparked her senses. She was hungry. She’d done no more than nibble at her meals. Still, he deserved some defiance. She ignored the spoon he offered and drank right from the bowl.

Colster sat back in his chair. “I imagine Lachlan had his hands full with you.”

Page 131

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv
erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

She picked up a napkin off the tray and daintily wiped the corners of her mouth. The broth had been good and she could feel her body respond to nourishment. There was an ache in her legs as if they longed to be stretched.

“Would you like more?” he asked.

“I would like to know about Gordon,” she answered.

He offered her a roll from the tray.

Constance stuffed the roll in her mouth, glaring at him the whole time she chewed. After making a point of swallowing, she waved her hand, indicating it was his turn.

The duke didn’t disappoint. “I didn’t want to leave you. I asked him to think of you,” he said. “And he did.”

“I knew that was his reason,” she said tightly. “He was wrong.”

“No, he wasn’t,” Colster disagreed, shaking his head. “I know a rebel’s life sounds romantic, especially to a young woman such as yourself.”

“I may be young, but I’m not naive.”

“Did I say you were?” He poured some tea into a cup on the tray and offered it to her. This time she didn’t bother to argue but took the cup and saucer.

“I know my own mind,” she said. “I love him. I willalways love him…no matter what Charlotte or Miranda or the rest of the world thinks.”

“Then hewas a lucky man,” the duke answered.

“Was? What have you heard?” she demanded, her chest tightening in panic. She put her legs over the edge of the bed and set the cup and saucer on the tray.

“The camp where the clan was staying was attacked.”

Her heart stopped. “By whom? Did you betray him—”

“You go too far when you accuse me,” he said, cutting her off quickly. “I am a man of my word. And don’t think to accuse my brother. He was not pleased with my decision to give up the sword, but we are twins. He is as loyal to me as I am to him.”

“Then whom?”

“From the reports I’ve received from the clansmen who have come to me, it was a man named Thomas Ovens.”

“Thomas?He was Gordon’s right hand.”

“Gordon wouldn’t be the first man to be betrayed by a friend.”

Page 132

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv
erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

Constance could barely think. A thousand questions bombarded her, but only one was important. “Is Gordon dead?” she forced herself to ask. Breathing was becoming more difficult.

“No one knows,” he answered, and she thought she would collapse. No wonder he’d insisted she eat something before delivering this news.

She doubled over, folding her arms against her waist, attempting to hold herself together. “What happened? And what of the others? Please, Your Grace, please tell me the clan is safe.”

“From what I understand, most escaped. We are still piecing together the story from those who have come to me for shelter. The belief is that Thomas turned Gordon in for the ransom money. Clansmen say a party of English soldiers attacked, but after Thomas was killed, they ran.”

“Who killed him?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

“Gordon.”

Constance nodded. “’Tis justice.”

The duke didn’t argue. He said, “We were surprised we heard of the attack from the Scots first. My brother has excellent military resources and they knew nothing of the event. In fact, we told them about it first. Of course, military channels move slowly and it may take some time before we know the complete story. Whitehall has ordered a few officers to London for information.”

Constance couldn’t give a care. “It was the bounty they wanted,” she said with certainty. “The one that was raised because Gordon kidnapped me.”

“The Scots say he sacrificed himself for them,” the duke said. “He led them to a cliff overlooking the loch where the camp was.”

“Yes, the Cliffs. They were a popular meeting place.”

“And then he jumped into the water. No one saw him surface, nor has anyone received contact from him since the attack.”

“But he swims,” Constance said, her heart taking hope. “He can swim like a fish.”

The duke leaned forward, resting his arm on his knees. “Constance, the water was very cold. Lachlan was fully clothed. He took the sword with him. A man would have to be an incredibly strong swimmer to beat those odds.”

“What of his sister?” Fiona would know what happened to her brother.

“No one has seen her since the day of the attack, either. Some of the Scots were killed that day. A handful, but we don’t know how many. They scattered into the surrounding forest and not everyone is accounted for. It’s possible thatboth Lachlans died. The feeling is that certainly someone in the clan would have heard from one or the other.”

The room started to go black and Constance realized she was about to faint.

The duke reached for her, taking her arm and giving it a squeeze. “Be strong,” he whispered.

Page 133

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv
erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

“How?” she asked, her throat closing.

“In the only way women have been strong for centuries. You were a warrior’s woman. You must think of what he would want you to do.”

“I can think of nothing other than how much this hurts.” Her mind was finally realizing the terrible reality of his loss. “If he was alive, he would have come for me,” she said. “I know he would have. Your Grace, I don’t think I can go on. It’s as if my soul is being ripped in two.”

The duke kneeled on the floor in front of her. “Constance,” he said sternly, forcing her to listen to him, “I know this conversation is not easy. The question would be better coming from your sisters, and yet, they fear upsetting you. They think it best I do so. Then they can console you.”

“What question do they want to ask that they fear how I would react?”

“Have you thought that you could be with child? Gordon’s child?”

His words were a dousing of cold water. She shook her head. “I couldn’t be.”

“It’s too soon to tell,” he replied. “But your sisters say there are signs. There is the possibility, is there not?”

A child?She’d not considered such a thing. But now…?

It could be possible. She’d been so busy at the camp, and then with Gordon, she hadn’t thought about the dates. She wasn’t even certain what the dates were anymore. Time had ceased to have meaning.

She placed her hand on her belly. “How soon does one know?”

“Miranda said that she felt a change in her attitude almost immediately.”

Constance searched herself. “I have no idea.” She shook her head. “I’ve been sad.” It felt strange to speak openly to this man, and yet there was a kindness about him. An empathy. “You knew Gordon.

You liked him.”

“I admired him very much,” the duke answered without hesitation. “I want you to think on this—Gordon was the last of his line. That child you could be carrying would be important to him. You have a responsibility to care for that wee one. To see him safe.”

Constance forced herself to sit upright. She combed her fingers through her hair, realizing how she’d let herself go. Nor could she imagine herself with child. She didn’t know what she was expected to feel…or even if she could trust this concern on the duke’s part.

A certainty came over her. Aknowing as completely mad as one of Maggie’s fits. “He’s still alive,” she said, wanting it to be true.

Still kneeling, Colster shrugged before gently saying, “Even if he is, Constance, he is a wanted man in England. You’ve been shut away from all of this, but right now his name is in every paper. It was the kidnapping that made him infamous. He’s called too much attention to himself to be safe on these shores.”

Page 134

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv
erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

“I don’t suppose I’m infamous, too?” There was bitterness in her voice.

“There are those who know,” the duke said. “Phillip has done what he can to keep your name out of the papers in any form.” When she frowned at Phillip’s name, he said, “I know you don’t trust him, but Phillip isn’t a bad sort. He may have let his temper have the best of him over your sisters, but Charlotte has him completely wrapped around her finger. My brother loves your sister very much. He would not do anything to harm you.”

His brow creased with concern as he said, “However, if Gordon were alive, if he were to come for you, he’d risk hanging. The government would have no choice.”

“What about the others? The rest of the clan? Are they not as guilty?”

“Gordon was the instigator. The rebellion at Nathraichean would have ended months ago save for him. If he did escape,” he said, meeting Constance’s gaze, “he’d best not be in the country.”

But he would be alive.And for her, that was enough.

“I only knew him almost two weeks,” she murmured. She frowned. “I know what Charlotte is going to say. She’ll think me odd for having fallen so completely, so utterly, in love.”

His Grace laughed. “She has no room to talk, lass. She’s in love with my brother.” He turned serious. “I love my wife very much, and yes, it came upon me in less time than a week. One day I was alone, and the next my world was filled with her. Heart and mind.”

“Yes,” Constance agreed, understanding exactly what he meant. “I didn’t even like Gordon when I first met him.”

“Ah, well, that’s true of everyone who meets Gordon.” She knew he was teasing, understood then that he’d known this man well. That’s why Gordon had listened when the duke spoke to him in private that fateful day at the ruins.

“I wish I’d returned with him,” she whispered.

He sobered immediately. “We’re glad you didn’t. Who knows what your fate would be…or the fate of that bairn you might be carrying? Gordon didn’t want anything but the very best for you. I saw the look on his face when he made his choice. He loved you, lass.”

Her eyes burned at tears she blinked back. She’d spent enough time on sorrow. Now, she had to be brave. “What should I do?” she asked.