Page 252 of Wicked Highland Heroes

“She was your mother.”

Talbot looked at the painting. There, on the ivory, his sister’s face stared back with soft green eyes. The memory returned on a tide of emotion that took his breath. He’d been nineteen, she had been fourteen. It began with a simple cough and runny nose. A fever followed, then her eyes became so sensitive to light that the curtain around her bed was kept closed and only a single candle burned in her room. The red rash that spread across her body marred her beautiful flesh. Against the wishes of his father and his father’s wife, he’d held her the last three days of her life until the fever had grown so hot and the pain so great, her heart gave out.

He released a long-held breath and looked up from the painting. “The resemblance is striking, but she is not my mother. My mother died giving birth to Lilas.

“Do you remember her?” Lady Taresa asked.

He remembered a soft voice, an indistinct lullaby, but said, “Nay.”

“You do not think the resemblance between my daughter and your sister is proof enough Lady Peigi is your mother?”

“An unmarried noblewoman would never consent to be a man’s mistress,” Talbot replied.

Pain filled her eyes and he half expected her to end the meeting.

“Are you ill, my lady?”

“No more than usual,” she replied.

“My lady—”

She raised a hand. “It is a sickness of the soul that ails me, not the body. My daughter was a proud woman.” A tiny smile touched her lips. “Like me.” The smile faded. “Then she met your father.”

“My father was—is—an honorable knight,” Talbot said.

“In his way, yes. But he fell in love with my daughter, and she with him.”

“You know my father, then?”

She shook her head. “I never met him. Peigi would not tell us who he was. But that she loved him, there was no doubt. They were together many years. I did not know until she returned after my husband’s death that she bore her lover two children. It is clear he did not cast her aside. I do not doubt that he loved her.”

“Then why not marry her?” Talbot demanded.

Lady Taresa met his gaze squarely. “Because he was already married.”

Talbot stiffened. “My father would not dishonor a lady so.”

Lady Taresa gave a slow nod. “Have you ever been so in love that you would throw all caution to the wind for her?”

He recalled Sally. She had been a wealthy tavern owner’s daughter. Well-spoken and educated for a girl of her station. He met her six months after Lilas died and two months later he asked for her hand in marriage. Her father was ecstatic. Talbot’s father forbade the union. Talbot swore he would marry her without his father’s blessing. Unexpectedly, Sally shunned him. He fought and drank the next six months, until he realized it had been Lilas’ death that had motivated him and not the undying love he professed. He had felt that all-consuming love for a moment, no more. But, in the end, it had been a lie.

He thought of Rhoslyn. Would he throw all caution to the wind for her? She was his wife. He would defend her to the death. Protect her and their child, give them everything he had. Was that what Lady Taresa meant?

“I left my home, my family, for Cailin,” she said. “I gave up everything for him. Then when Peigi confessed that she had dishonored herself with an English knight and carried his child, my husband demanded to know who the man was, but she would not tell him. He banished her. When she returned after his death, I rejoiced at having her back in my life. But God took her from me less than a year later.”

Talbot couldn’t stop his gaze from returning to the portrait. “You said she died twenty years ago?”

“Yes.”

Twenty years ago, Talbot had been twelve. He recalled vividly a sudden and unexplained despondency his father experienced. It lasted months, and Talbot had often thought he’d never quite been the same afterwards. During that time, he and his father were walking one day when his father told him not to let life pass him by, and not to let the world dictate his life. That was exactly what he was trying to do now—as best as a man in his position could. Talbot laughed inwardly. When he thought he was in love with Sally, he’d reminded his father of those words. “There is a difference in not letting the world dictate your life and throwing it away,” he had said.

“You are my grandson,” Lady Taresa said, “and the heir to your grandfather’s title and property. As the Earl of Baliman and Baron Kinsley, you will one day be the richest and most powerful man in Buchan. You will be a force to be reckoned with in all of Scotland.”