The Highlander's Woman (The Reckless Rockwoods #3) (30 page)

“I have no gentle way to say this, Mr. Bensmore, other than to be blunt. Aiden is Julian’s brother.”

“Do no’ insult my intelligence, woman. That’s no’ possible,” Bensmore bellowed in angry disbelief. “That would mean the child was Fergus’ son.”

“I’m sorry, but you may ask your daughter. Aiden bears the mark of a MacTavish that
all
the men in the family have.” As Patience looked at Una, the color drained from the Scotswoman’s face. The woman glanced at her father in obvious fear, but the man was muttering to himself as he shook his head in a dazed fashion.

“Fergus would no’ betray me like that—no’ with my own daughter. He was my friend.”

Patience didn’t say anything in response to his mutterings, and Bensmore glared at her in outrage as if he could make her confess she’d been lying. When she didn’t flinch beneath his furious glare, the man’s expression dissolved into one of horrified resignation. Bensmore sagged slightly where he stood as disappointment, shame, and humiliation swept across his face.

The man had done nothing to deserve his friend’s betrayal, and Patience’s stomach lurched as she wondered how the man would react if he learned his youngest daughter had shared the Crianlarich’s bed as well. And Patience was certain he would ask that question of his youngest daughter soon enough.

Una wouldn’t be able to hide her pregnancy for much longer. But whether Mr. Bensmore discovered Fergus MacTavish’s second betrayal was still in question. The Scotswoman touched her father’s arm in a genuine gesture of comfort. A moment later, Una fixed her green-eyed gaze on Patience. The hate in the other woman’s eyes sent a shiver through Patience.

“Ye have no heart,” Una exclaimed as she glared at Patience. “Ye did no’ have to tell him who the bairn’s father was.”

“You left me with no choice. Julian couldn’t defend himself against your accusations without breaking his oath to your sister,” Patience said quietly. “And I refuse to stand by and let you or your father accuse or make demands of my husband when he has as much right, if not more, to raise his brother and heir to Crianlarich.”

“Can the Crianlarich no’ speak for himself?” Bensmore snapped. “Or has his blindness reduced him to hiding behind the skirts of a woman?”

The older man’s insult made Julian stiffen beside her. Patience jerked her head to look up at him. The fury slashing its way across her husband’s face made her heart skip a beat of fear for the older man. Her hand clutched at Julian’s forearm, but he was either oblivious to the touch or cared nothing for the sign of caution.

“I’ve tolerated ye and yer daughter’s slurs as a sign of yer grief for Caitriona,” Julian snarled as anger thickened his brogue until it was harsh with a brutal fury. The rage rolling off of him in waves was evidence of the fiery line of Scotsmen he was descended from. “But ye will show me the respect I deserve or I’ll thrash ye as easily as I could if I were no’ blind, Bensmore.”

“Ye can no’ blame me for questioning yer reasons to tell everyone but me about my Caitriona and Fergus,” the Scotsman snapped bitterly.

“I did no’ tell everyone. Only five people know the truth, and four of them are in this room.” Julian’s words were a thunderous boom of outrage in the room. “Muireall is the only other person who knows, and I did no’ tell her. Muireall saw Caitriona sneaking out of our father’s room early one morning. I jeopardized my own marriage keeping yer daughter’s secret from Patience for almost a year. So do no’ suggest I shared Caitriona’s secret without due consideration or care.”

Defeat cast a shadow on the older man’s weathered face, and Patience’s heart went out to him. The man had not only lost a daughter, he’d been humiliated by a man he’d considered a friend. Worse, it was quite possible there was more humiliation and shame to come, and Patience could only hope she wasn’t witness to it. In the space of a few moments, Bensmore had aged at least ten years or more since Patience had divulged the painful details of Caitriona’s fall from grace.

Regret swept over her that she’d been forced to be a part of humiliating the man. Her gaze flitted to Una. To her surprise the woman was looking at Julian. There was an air of desperation and fear radiating off the other woman. As if realizing she was being watched, Una jerked her head toward Patience. There was more than just hate in the woman’s gaze. There was an anguish reflected in Una’s gaze that she recognized.

Una Bensmore was in love with Julian. The knowledge sent pity streaking through Patience. It explained why the woman had tried to come between her and Julian. Yet even despite her love for Julian, Una had craved being the mistress of Crianlarich more. The old Crianlarich had made promises he’d not been able to keep. Last night she’d not been completely sure about Una and Fergus MacTavish, but now she was. No doubt Una had thought being in Fergus’ bed would secure her the status she wanted.

But her desire for the title of Mistress of Crianlarich had come at a price. Like Caitriona before her, she was carrying Fergus’ child. With Julian’s father dead, Una’s reputation hinged on securing a husband quickly. A husband she thought she might find in Julian if he were to divorce Patience. The fact Una loved Julian could only make her situation all the more painful. As she steadily met the other woman’s gaze, Una grew pale again. Fear swept across the woman’s face, before her expression became as stony a look as Julian’s. She linked her arm through her father’s and gently pulled him toward the door.

“Let us go home, father. Ye need to rest,” Una said softly. “We can come back to see the child in a few days.”

“Aye,” Bensmore rasped and nodded his head.

Julian’s hand gently tightened around Patience’s as the father and daughter walked out of the room. A moment later, the front door made a loud thud as the Bensmores left the castle. Beside her, Julian made a sound of relief as he pulled Patience into his arms. His head dipped downward until his mouth brushed across her forehead.

“Ye have poor timing when it comes tae telling your husband ye still love him, Mrs. MacTavish.” Julian’s words were gruff, and there was a deeper, much more raw emotion threading through his words.

“I’ve been trying to tell you ever since I came home,” she said quietly as she clung to him. “I don’t know that I would have had the courage to do so if I’d not heard you tell Bensmore you loved me.”

“I’ve never stopped loving you
mo ghràdh
.” Julian kissed her gently then proceeded to press kiss after tender kiss to her face as he repeated his declaration over and over again. As he lifted his head, Patience sighed happily.

“I think I’ll have to insist you make that a daily ritual, Crianlarich, and at least three times a day.”

“Just three?” he teased in a light-hearted manner.

Despite her new-found happiness, the memory of Bensmore’s defeated expression filled Patience’s head. She rested her head against Julian’s shoulder, while her hand pressed against his heart.

“I wish it hadn’t been necessary to tell him the truth,” she whispered. “It will be hard enough for him when he learns Una’s with child.”

“
With child
,” he exclaimed in a low, hoarse voice. After a long pause, he drew in a harsh breath. “Is it my father’s?”

“Yes,” she said as she looked up at him. Anger made his features stern and implacable. “But she’s not very far along. I don’t think your father knew if even Una did. I’m sure he would have married her. It would have given her almost everything she wanted.”

“Almost?” he rasped with slight jerk.

“She’s in love with you,” Patience said as she experienced pity for the woman who’d craved things she would never have. “When I told Bensmore that all the men in your family have the same birthmark, Una was terrified. But it was when she looked at me that I knew you were the man she’d really wanted.”

“I never wanted her,
mo leannan
,” Julian reassured her with an intensity that made her heart soar.

“I know that now, my love. I should have believed you…trusted you,” she whispered as tears welled in her eyes. Would things have been different after the fire? The answer to that question was clear. Julian would never have allowed her to hide from him.

“Tis in the past, Patience,” he bit out in a strained voice, and she lifted her head off his shoulder to look at him.

“You’re in pain,” she gasped with self-reproach. “Forgive me, my darling. I knew you were unwell. I should have made you go upstairs the moment the Bensmores left.”

“Tis nothing more than a little headache. I will manage as long as I do no’ let you leave my side.”

Despite the dismissive note in his voice, she could still hear the note of misery in his voice. Concern spiraled through her, and she reached up to lightly stroke his temples. Her touch caused him to wince, and Patience made a soft sound of exasperation.

“
Uncomfortable, my foot
. You’re going upstairs to lie down,” she said firmly. As he opened his mouth to speak, Patience pressed her index finger against his lips. “No arguments.”

“I was no’ going to argue,” he muttered in a disgruntled manner.

“Why do I have trouble believing that,” she said with amusement.

“Do no’ sass me, woman,” he growled. A second later he came to an abrupt halt with a deep groan of pain then sagged against Patience.

“
Julian
,” she exclaimed in fear.

“’Tis all right,
mo ghràdh
,” he said hoarsely. “My head is just pounding like a blacksmith hammer on an anvil.”

“Perhaps you should sit down while I find Percy or Harlan to help you upstairs.”

“
No
,” he snarled then grimaced as he met her concerned gaze. “I can manage with your help,
mo leannan
.”

“All right.” Patience sighed at his hardheaded refusal to accept help. “And you have the audacity to call me stubborn.”

His only reply was a soft grunt as Patience helped guide him out into the main hall. They were halfway to the staircase, when Patience heard footsteps hurrying down the stairs. She looked up towards the sound to see Harlan and Percy headed toward them.

“Damnation, Julian,” her brother exclaimed. “You look as pale as a ghost.”

“It’s a migraine,” Patience said softly. She glanced up at Julian to see him flinch then pursed her lips in a silent gesture for her brother to lower his voice. Regret immediately darkened Percy’s features.

“Let me help you up the stairs, Julian,” Her brother said quietly as he stepped toward his brother-in-law. “Patience is strong, but if you collapse you’re apt to send the two of you tumbling down the steps.”

Patience felt Julian stiffen before he released a small noise of agreement. Percy wrapped his arm around Julian’s waist. When she didn’t retreat from Julian side, her brother arched his eyebrows at her.

“You better let Dr. Branson take your place, Patience. He’s stronger than you.” Percy’s statement caused Julian to release a low growl of protest. Patience touched his hand in a silent sign of reassurance.

“He’s right, Julian. Besides, Harlan can examine you once we get you into bed.”

“I do
no’
need a doctor.” There was an odd note of antipathy in Julian’s voice that made her look at him in surprise. Bewildered, she glanced at Harlan and saw his expression of puzzlement quickly change to startled misgiving. The instant the physician realized she was watching him, he assumed his usual professional countenance. Harlan smiled reassuringly at her, but she couldn’t help thinking he knew something she didn’t.

“I don’t think you need a doctor either, Crianlarich,” the doctor said with a quiet authority he’d always used when she had been a difficult patient. “But your brother-in-law is correct. Your wife could be injured if you suddenly collapsed on the stairs. I should be the one to help Mr. Rockwood assist you up the stairs.”

Julian remained silent, but after a long moment he acquiesced to Harlan’s recommendation with a grunt. Slowly, he lifted his arm off Patience’s shoulder then with a gentle nudge, he pushed her away from him. Harlan quickly took her place.

“Let’s get you upstairs and into bed,” the doctor said quietly as he and Percy guided Julian up the stairs. “Mrs. MacTavish, if you don’t mind, would you retrieve my medicine bag from my room.”

“Of course,” she said with a nod and hurried up the stairs leaving the two men to help Julian navigate the path to the second floor.

Patience quickly found Harlan’s room and collected the black leather satchel. As she returned to the corridor, she saw her brother and the doctor half-carrying Julian into his room. Her heart sank. Julian hated anyone seeing him weak or helpless in any way. She bit down on her bottom lip and walked quickly down the hallway with the heavy bag Dr. Branson always carried with him.

She reached Julian’s room in time for her to see Percy adjusting her husband’s legs onto the bed. Patience barely looked at the doctor as she handed his bag to him and went to Julian’s side. It was easy to tell Julian was in a great deal of pain from the way his shoulders and neck were knotted with tension. Dr. Branson bent over Julian on the opposite side of the bed to take his pulse and do a cursory examination. A low growl of irritation rumbled in her husband’s chest, but it didn’t stop Harlan’s efficient, professional manner.

Patience took Julian’s hand in hers and bent her head to kiss his fingers. In response, his hand immediately clutched hers firmly. Harlan raised his head to look at Patience.

“I have some herbs in my bag that have proven effective with some of my patients who have migraines,” he said quietly. “We can mix them with hot tea. I believe the taste is far from pleasant, but it should help.”

“I do no’ need anything except rest,” Julian snapped hoarsely.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Julian,” she said in a hushed voice. “If Dr. Branson thinks it will do you good, you should try it.”

“I do no’ need the mon’s help.” Julian’s short, clipped words were filled with anger and pain. Patience winced.

“Please, Julian. Please let him help you, if only to ease my mind that you’ll be all right.”

“Mrs. MacTavish, Percy—why don’t you let me have a few moments alone with the Crianlarich. Perhaps someone could fetch some tea?”