Page 75 of A Highland Duke to Claim Her Heart

This may be your child, but it changes nothing about my heart.

The way that had ripped through him, how it had destroyed him.

And what had Christopher said? He had laughed, when Ewan had told him that Margaret was still in love with him.

You cannot be serious,he had said.She married you when she was still in love with me? What a madwoman! Did she think that would make me jealous?

That is exactly what she thought would happen,Ewan had said gravely, which only made his brother cackle with laughter more.

Foolish woman. To condemn herself to a man she does not love simply out of revenge. I am sorry, brother, but you married a simpleton.

Christopher had been cruel that day. Unthinkingly cruel.

But there were other memories of him that reached further back, into the deep recesses of his mind. Memories that still brought tears to Ewan’s eyes and filled him with a powerful feeling of love.

The two of them as children, playing together near the lochs. Christopher getting in trouble for stealing one of their father’s horses and riding into the village in order to visit the daughter of the vicar, with whom he had taken a fancy.

His father’s fury, when he had found out where Christopher had gone. How he and Ewan had ridden into the village, only to find Christopher being held at gunpoint by the vicar.

The old duke had roared with laughter then, told Christopher it was no more than he deserved, that he ought to let the man shoot him for trying to corrupt his daughter.

I only wanted to go for a walk with her,Christopher had whined, making all the men laugh even harder.

The memory flickered through Ewan’s mind. It still felt as if he were there, as if he were feeling all those same emotions again.

The way the three of them had gone for ale afterward in the local tavern, and the old duke, their father, had imparted to Christopher the importance of chivalric courtship.

You will have to watch out for him,the old duke had said, near the end of his life, apropos of nothing, as Ewan sat with him in his study, helping go over the ledgers.He is not like you, Ewan. He is wild. Too wild.The old duke had shaken his head.Hewill cause you nothing but heartache and worry. But he is your brother, and you must always love him, even through all his mischief and mistakes.

I do love him,Ewan wanted to say now. He had not at the time. Instead, he had grimaced at his father.

He is not a good man, Father, he had said instead.He is toying with Margart’s heart.

I know you have always been fond of her,his father had murmured.But she must make her own choices.

I do not want to have to take care of him, Ewan had insisted. He needs to clean up his own messes.

Love sometimes kills us,his father said, patting his hand gently.But we do it anyway.

But then the old duke had died, and Ewan, in his grief, had sworn to himself that he would not let him down. That he would always take care of his brother, always forgive him, try to guide him, and always love him.

The dream changed again, and this time Ewan was watching his wife’s coffin being lowered into the ground. It was raining, the hard sleet of the Scottish Highlands slamming into his face. Or was he just weeping? He could not tell.

A child was screaming next to him. His daughter. Annabelle. The girl that Margaret had been so sure she would birth, about whose future she had been so concerned. A wet nurse was holding her in her arms, but the child’s screams only intensified.

She should not be out in this rain,Ewan had thought to himself, as the coffin strained against the ropes that were lowering it into the black earth.But she needs to see her mother’s funeral. Even if she will not remember it. Even if she is only a few days old.

It was after the child had been returned to the castle, and all the mourners had left, that Ewan had made his vow. The earth was freshly dug in a mound above where Margaret had been buried, the rain was still storming hard.

I will never love again,he had whispered, as he stared into the darkness of the earth.I will not marry. I will not risk this ever again.

The pain in his chest was enormous. He remembered it from that day, the way he had felt that he might actually die from it.

But as he watched himself, as if from across the grave, the rain beating into him relentlessly, Ewan felt the pain beginning to recede, until at last, it was gone. Like the rain itself the next morning, when he awoke to a cold, clear dawn.

Sunlight warmed his eyes, and he opened them.

He was lying in his bedchamber at Calder Castle, and afternoon light was streaming in through an open window. The air was clear and fresh, the sweet smell of grass and summer flowers filling his nose.