Whence Came a Prince (15 page)

Jamie mustered his courage. “May I … speak with you … later?”

“You may.”

For a moment he thought he saw a glimmer of hope in her eyes, but perhaps it was only the sheen of her unshed tears. Whatever had transpired before he arrived, Leana’s afternoon had been most trying. He hoped his apology would not grieve her further. But it had to be said; she must be made to understand.

“There you are, Jamie.” Rose sailed into the room, Ian on her hip,
a too-cheery smile on her face. “I see you’ve made your cousin welcome. And here’s your son, awake from his nap.”

“Ian, my lad.” Jamie ruffled the boy’s hair, grateful for something to occupy his hands. There was no such recourse for his thoughts, which whirled through his head like dervishes. Nor could he find a place for his gaze to land; left or right, he found a woman who’d given him her heart.

“I’ve told Leana our news,” Rose said. “She has promised to … help me. To … that is …”

“I have already wished your husband much joy.” Leana bowed her head. “I will gladly provide whatever guidance you might need, Rose.”

“ ’Tis … good of you.” Jamie was determined to say something, if only to keep his wits about him. Leana was standing too near. The curve of her long neck distracted him; the warmth of her body unsettled him. He stepped slightly to the left but could not escape her fragrance and the disturbing memories it evoked.

Rose shifted Ian to her other arm. The lad was growing impatient for his supper. “You once insisted, Leana, that we all speak the truth in love.”

Looking at Rose, Leana took a steady breath. “The truth is, this is a very trying day for all of us. I am overjoyed at seeing my son, yet I fear my happiness comes at your expense.” She turned to Jamie, her expression less strained than before. “Indeed, ’tis why I left in the first place: to spare you both the heartache of having to choose.”

Distracted by Ian’s antics, Rose repeated the word as though she’d missed something. “Choose what?”

Jamie’s heart made a fist.

“Choose whom you will love,” Leana said simply.

Rose shook her head. “ ’Tis not a matter of picking one or the other. I love Jamie. I love Ian. And I love you, Leana.” She planted a noisy kiss on Ian’s cheek. “Furthermore, I am quite certain that all three of you love me. So you see, there are no choices to be made. Not anymore.”

Before either of them could respond, Rose swung round, holding the boy tight, and headed for the kitchen, her braid dusting the back of her gown. “My son cannot wait another minute for his carrots and trout. I will see you both at supper.”

As she neared the door, Rose began to sing, her voice overly bright in the strained atmosphere.

The notes lingered in the room, like the pungent aroma of fried trout. Jamie said nothing for a moment, uncertain how to begin. If they were seated, he might manage better. If she were farther away. If the room were not so quiet.

“Jamie.” Leana moistened her lips. “You read my letter. The one I sent from Twyneholm the day—”

“Aye,” he said quickly, hoping to change the subject. “I read it.” Dozens of times. The creases in the paper were nearly worn through.

Leana rested her hand lightly on his sleeve. “ ’Tis obvious you have done as I asked.”

He nodded, stalling. “You requested that I care for our son with the same tenderness you would have shown him if you’d been here. And so I have. He looks well, don’t you think?”

“Very well,” she said gently. “And your wife even more so.”

His spirits sank. “Must we talk about Rose?”

“You know we must. Isn’t that what you wanted to speak to me about…‘later’?”

“It is, but …” The woman saw too much. Knew him too well.

“Oh, Jamie, please do not make this harder.” Leana’s voice softened to a whisper. “You love Rose, do you not?”

Jamie closed his eyes. He could not bear to see her face when he spoke the truth. “I do.”

When he opened them again, she’d moved a step back. “You have made the honorable choice, Jamie. All of society stands with you. The kirk, the law, the parish, my father—”

“Lachlan McBride only stands where he will benefit,” he protested, seizing the chance to pin blame elsewhere for something, anything.

Leana did not contest his claim. “My father’s greed knows no bounds, I’ll not deny the truth of that.”

Truth.
He seized on the word and let it fuel his courage. “And I cannot deny the vow I made to you on the day you left.” Jamie wrapped his hands round her arms, her soft flesh giving way beneath his grasp. “Listen to me, Leana. Those were not idle words intended only to comfort you. I meant what I said: I will ne’er repent of loving you.”

She lowered her eyes, glassy with tears. “But you
have
repented. You have wisely chosen to love Rose instead.”

“You are wrong. I did not choose.” His grip on her arms tightened, lest he shake her. Lest he pull her into his embrace. “Don’t you see? The choice was made for me.”

“By Rose, you mean?”

“Nae, Leana. By you.”

T
he heat of Jamie’s words and the warmth of his presence were more than Leana could bear. When her knees began to fold, Jamie caught her in his arms.

“Och, lass!” He carried her to the guest bed and lowered her onto the worsted wool coverlet. Before she could protest, he slipped off her shoes, then sat on the edge of the half-tester bed, taking care not to crush her gown. “ ’Tis my fault.” He swept her hair away from her face, not quite meeting her gaze. “I should not have spoken so …”

“So … honestly?” Leana finished for him. The room came into focus as her dizziness started to fade.

He was more handsome than she remembered. The strong cut of his jaw. The fullness of his mouth. The moss green eyes that haunted her dreams. The man she had no right to love.

“Jamie, ’tis just as you said: I ran from Auchengray without giving you any choice in the matter.”

“That morning … when I realized you were gone …” He hung his head. “ ’Twas a terrible morning.”

“For me as well,” she said gently. She longed to smooth back the stubborn lock of hair that fell across his brow but dared not risk even so innocent a gesture. “I asked you to love my sister. All but insisted upon it. You did not choose that either.”

Jamie lifted his head. “I chose to act on it, though. Because I had to, Leana. Because she is my wife.” He exhaled slightly. “And because I do love her.” He fell silent, studying her at length. When at last he spoke, his voice was threaded with remorse. “Why, Leana? Why did you leave me?”

Oh, Jamie.
The hardest question of all.

“ ’Twas not because I wanted to.” Her throat closed round the words. “I left Auchengray for your sake and for Rose’s.” She averted her eyes, disconcerted at having him so near. “But I did so for my own sake as well, knowing the limits of my heart.”

“Your heart has no limits.” He wrapped his fingers round her wrist, as though measuring the rhythm of it pulsing against his thumb. “You love completely, Leana, holding nothing in reserve. Even those who are not worthy of your love are blessed with it in full measure.” After a moment he stood, carefully releasing his hold on her. “I ken the source of that love, for you have told me often enough.”

“God has been most gracious to me, Jamie.” She slowly sat up, then eased her legs over the edge of the bed and slipped on her shoes. “His loving-kindness is far greater than anything I might offer.”

“So the Buik says.” He laced her shoes, then helped her stand, making certain she was steady on her feet before letting go. “ ’Tis not the first time you’ve fainted in my arms. I remember one Sabbath in particular.”

“When you carried me from the kirk to the manse? Not an easy journey. I was very much with child.”
As I am now.
Her breath caught as she realized how close she’d come to spilling out her news. Even now the words waited on her lips, ready to be spoken. Needing to be spoken.
’Tis why I’ve come home, Jamie.
He deserved to know, didn’t he?

Aye, but not yet. The next few weeks would be worrisome enough. Leana smoothed her skirts, noting the shape of her waist. Only a slight rounding there. Surely she could keep her secret until Lammas. If she altered her gowns and minded her fork, she might reach the end of her fifth month before burdening anyone with such news.

There
was
a child they needed to discuss, however.

“Jamie, I have something to ask of you.” When he turned his full gaze on her, she almost lost her nerve, so intense was his look. “Rose informed me that once you settle in Glentrool, she plans to claim Ian as her true son, born of her womb.” Seeing his brow darken, she bit her lip. “Perhaps that is what you intend as well.”

“Rose had no business suggesting such a thing,” he said evenly. “Ian will always be your son. Nothing can change that, certainly not a whim of your sister’s. I will speak with her tonight.”

Heat climbed up her neck, as she imagined the conversation. “Jamie, I should not have said—”

“Nae, ’tis right that you did.” He glanced down at his collarless shirt and worn breeches. “Pardon me while I dress for supper. Even without your father at table, I cannot appear in shepherd’s garb.”

Leana touched the neckline of her plain green gown. “Until my old gowns are aired and pressed, I fear the dress I’ve arrived in will have to do for dinner.”

His gaze traveled the length of her. “You look bonny, Leana. As always.”

Flustered, she sank into a curtsy, thinking to put their relationship on the proper footing. “I will make myself useful in the kitchen then, dear cousin.”

Jamie placed his hand under her chin, slowly lifting her face until they were poised a handbreadth apart. “
Cousin?
” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “Nae, lass. It can never be that way with us.”

By sheer will she stepped away from him. “Nor can it be any other way but this.” She curtsied again, her legs trembling, then grabbed her skirts and fled the room.

Moments later Leana burst into the kitchen. “Neda!” she cried, then fell back a step, trying to regain her composure. Though how could she with Jamie so near? She gestured toward the dressing table with a limp hand. “Is there … some task I might do … before supper?”

Neda greeted her warmly, as if her face were not flushed nor her breathing uneven. “I’ve nae need o’ yer labor, lass, but I’d walcome yer company.”

Only then did Leana see Rose seated in the corner spooning Ian’s fish supper into his eager mouth. In her haste she had forgotten that her sister would be in the kitchen as well. Rose, with her back toward Leana, did not look in her direction, nor did Ian’s expression change when he caught sight of his mother.

Feeling faint, Leana started toward the door. “Perhaps later …”

“You’ll join us at table, won’t you?” Rose lifted her voice to be heard above the kitchen din, inclining her head only slightly.

“Aye,” was all she managed before quitting the room.

Leana wandered down the back hall, feeling like a stranger in her own home. Should she simply wait in the dining room for the McKies to join her? She had never supped with them as husband and wife. Now she would share their table thrice daily.
How, Lord? How will I bear it?

When Leana found herself in the dining room, she sank into her old chair and imagined Jamie and Rose seated across from her. Whatever would they discuss over supper? Not Ian. Not Glentrool. Too many words had been exchanged that afternoon, words that could not easily be put aside for a plate of soup.

Why are you here, Leana?
She had arrived with a ready answer; now she had none.

You love completely, Leana.
Indeed, she loved them both and Ian even more.

Wait upon the Lord, Leana.
Her own words, whispered in her heart. In so desperate a situation, he was her only hope.

She was still deep in thought when Rose appeared in the doorway, her features arranged as carefully as flowers in a vase. “Ian is off exploring the garden with Eliza. Suppose we get on with supper. With Father gone, we’ve no need to make a long evening of it.” Though Rose did not look at her as she took her seat, the lass could not hide the blush on her cheeks. Perhaps Rose was not as unruffled as she’d appeared. “I’ve instructed Neda to serve our three courses in quick succession. That is … if you do not object.”

“Whatever you wish.” Leana clutched the table linen in her lap, silently pleading for the courage to speak her heart. “Rose … I know this is … You did not expect …”

Jamie strode into the room sporting clean attire and a smooth chin. “Sorry to keep you waiting, ladies.”

Rose smiled up at him and patted the arm of his chair. “Please join us.” After Jamie spoke a blessing on the meal, Annabel brought in their barley broth one plate at a time while Rose inched her chair closer to his. “What say you, Jamie? After all these months, we have my sister back at our table.”

“Aye, we do.” Jamie nodded toward Leana but did not look at her nor say another word.

Rose tried again to engage him in conversation, to no avail. By the time pickled mutton was served, the tension in the room was thick enough to carve and serve for meat. Their father’s presence at table was surprisingly missed. At least Lachlan, with his sharp tongue, would have given them a common adversary.

Neda delivered the last course herself, a china bowl in each hand. Judging by the broad smile on her face, she was determined to improve matters. “Is thar a certain lass wha likes her sweets ready for me apple puddin?”

Rose brightened. “Aye.”

Leana knew she could not last through another course. “The scent of cinnamon is most tempting, Neda, yet I fear a good night’s sleep is more so. Will you excuse me, Rose? Jamie?” She did not wait for a response nor study their faces, knowing they felt as she did: awkward and uncomfortable. Sorry to find themselves in so impossible a situation. Dreading the months ahead.