"How many names do you have?"
"Several. How about you?"
"Aye. James Paul Charles Angus Ferguson, Earl of Stanbury, Baron…" Jamie twisted up his mouth and frowned at the ceiling. "I forgot the rest."
Rebbie chuckled. "'Tisa lot to remember." How on earth could this be happening? Was he still asleep and having some sort of warped fantastical dream? Or was it a nightmare?
The footman helped Calla into the coach and closed the door. He frowned but she didn't look his way. She sat beside Jamie and the servant on the opposite seat.
"I've missed you so, Jamie." After hugging him, she coddled and fussed over the lad, kissing him, straightening his hair and clothing.'Twasclear she loved him with all her heart. Rebbie stared out the window, hardly able to watch such a tender display of affection. And at the same time, fury near strangled him. After what they'd shared over the last several days, how could she have kept this from him?
"Did you meet Laird Rebbinglen?" she asked as the coach jolted into motion.
"He said his name is Rebbie. And Robert, like my dog." Jamie giggled.
"Aye, but you must show him respect and call him Laird Rebbinglen."
"'Tisnot necessary." Rebbie flicked a glance at her. "I don't mind if the lad calls me Rebbie. All my friends do." Even though the lad should have been calling himDa.
Calla watched him with uncertainty now. "Very well. If 'tis what you prefer."
"Aye." He near growled the word.
"Where are we going?" Jamie asked.
"To visit with some friends."
"Are we going to stay with Rebbie?" Jamie looked positively exuberant as he waited for the answer. Did that mean the lad wanted to stay with him? God's teeth! His heart ached with sudden longing. He hadn't even gotten to see his own son as a babe.
"Um… well, Rebbie and several more friends will be there, aye?"
"Along with some lads about your age," Rebbie said, refusing to look at Calla any longer. It hurt too much.
Jamie's eyes widened. "Can I play with them?"
"Of course, sweeting," she said.
The lad grinned and slid off the seat. "How long 'til we get there?"
"An hour or two," Calla said, dragging him back onto the seat. "Come. You must sit while we ride."
Rebbie watched the exchange, their every interaction like a tiny knife stab to his chest. The lad was his son. He knew it to the marrow of his bones! How could Calla have betrayed him like that? She'd let Stanbury believe the lad was his. She'd stolenRebbie'sson for that bastard. His muscles tensed and he wanted to smash something.
Chapter Eighteen
As Rebbie descended from the coach without a word and closed the door, Calla's heart leapt into her throat. Oh dear God, he knew. And he was furious.
How had he figured it out? Did Jamie look that much like him, even with the dark blond hair? Of course, he did. She squeezed her eyes shut. She'd known this would happen. Her worst fears realized.
"Where's he going?" Jamie asked.
"To ride his horse."
"I want to see it." He scurried to the window and looked out, then gasped. "'Tisa huge black horse, Ma!"
"Aye. Come sit down, love." She moved to the seat Rebbie had vacated to giveMorna, the nursemaid, more room.Mornahad been Jamie's nursemaid since he was a babe and Calla trusted her to give her son the best of care.Glenhavenhad insisted on keeping her on and paying her wages while Jamie stayed with him.
Calla grasped Jamie's clothing just as the coach surged forward, then hauled him onto the seat beside her.
