Page 45 of The Highlander’s Dangerous Desire

In time, she would rise and take care of other things. For the moment, however, she was happy enough to let Anne fuss over her, to sip tea and eat porridge as she tried to patch the pieces of her battered heart, and her dignity back together.

I’ll not regret the time I spent with Ewan, or the night I shared with him, even if he doesn't see me as anything more than an idle amusement. But neither shall I give him the satisfaction of knowing that I felt anything more, or that his actions have wounded me. English and far from home I may be, but I am still a lady. I have my pride, such as it is, and I shall not suffer myself to be considered a toy - or a lovestruck child - by any man. Not even Ewan MacDuff.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Ewan stared at the familiar walls of MacDuff Castle with a barely suppressed sigh of relief. The ride had made his healing wounds ache, and the silence of his traveling companion was discomforting in an entirely different way.

Ewan looked sideways, to where Grace sat on her horse. She’d been quiet for the past day, ever since leaving his room after their night together. Every attempt he made to speak to her only caused her to retreat into silence. She answered him only in brief statements, and when they’d shared a supper table, she’d made her excuses and left before he could even attempt conversation.

She acted as if she was ashamed. Ashamed of being with a Highlander. The idea made his chest ache, enough that he’d drunk himself almost into a stupor the night before. But if Grace was unwilling to discuss the matter with him, then he wasn’t going to surrender his pride to try and pursue the matter.

“Come. They’ll have seen us from the wall.” He spoke the words softly and nudged his horse into a walk once more. Grace nodded and nudged her horse to keep pace beside him. She still rode astride, as he’d taught her, and the sight made him want to smile and curse, all at the same time.

The gates of MacDuff Castle were open by the time they rode up to them, and two very familiar figures waited in the courtyard - one taller and broader in the shoulder than Ewan himself, dressed in the colors of MacDuff Clan over a casual kilt and loosely knotted shirt. The other was a smaller woman, with pale skin, hair the color of autumn leaves, and the prominent belly of a woman who was seven months with child.

Grace was out of the saddle as soon as the horses came to a stop. “Niamh!”

Niamh MacDuff nee Cameron stepped forward and embraced Grace with all the warmth and familiarity of a sister, both of them all but glowing with happiness. “Grace! ‘Tis so good tae see ye! When I heard ye’d been delayed… och, but I have missed ye!”

“And I, you. It is not at all the same, spending the seasons without our festivals to look forward to.” Grace embraced Alistair’s wife gently, mindful of her belly. “I was surprised, when I heard from Ewan - that is, Overseer MacDuff-MacTavish - that you had married and were carrying a babe.”

“Aye. Ye’re nae the only one tae be surprised by the way o’ things. I was fair startled meself, the way it all came about. But ‘tis a long story, an afore we go an’ get ye settled, me husband wants tae speak tae ye.”

Grace stiffened visibly, and Ewan moved closer, standing watchful as Alistair approached the women. He wasn’t certain what he wanted to do, or even if he wanted to do anything, but he was determined to be close if things went wrong.

Alistair studied Grace a moment, then offered her a crooked smile and a chagrined expression that he never would have worn before he fell in love with Niamh. “Welcome tae MacDuff Castle, Miss Lancaster. Afore aught else - I’m sorry fer how our first meetin’ went. I was a proper bastard, an’ I treated ye poorly. I ken we cannae meet a second time, but I hope we can start again from here.”

Grace nodded, her expression still and closed off. “I do understand you have no reason to love English folk, such as myself, and no reason to trust me.”

“But I didnae have any reason tae act as I did, let alone threaten ye. As me wife is fair fond o’ tellin’ me…” He gave Niamh a loving look that made Ewan’s stomach clench, for reasons he refused to think about. “I should have been more polite with me words, and gentler with me actions. An’ I shouldnae have judged ye afore I kent ye properly.”

Alistair offered Grace his hand. After a long moment, Grace took it, and Alistair pulled her into a brief but friendly embrace. “Thank you. It is comforting to know that I shall not face your hostility while I am your guest.”

“Ye’ll face nae hostility. Me wife’s friend is a welcome an’ protected guest o’ me clan, fer as long as ye wish tae be.”

Grace appeared to be considering his words, but Niamh smiled and wrapped her arms around her best friend. “Och, there, ye see? Alistair’s given ye welcome.”

She stretched awkwardly up to kiss her husband, then wrapped an arm through Grace’s. “Now come. There’s so much tae talk about.”

The two women wandered into the castle, while behind them servants carried Grace’s things into the castle.

Alistair watched until the two women vanished inside, then turned and wrapped Ewan in a hug that made his ribs creak. “Och, Ewan, ‘tis fair good tae see ye! If ye kent how much I wanted tae ride tae MacTavish when I received yer letter a few days ago…”

Ewan snorted. “I ken, fer I’ve felt the same way. But just as well ye didnae. ‘Twould only have undermined me standin’. And we managed well enough, though ‘twas a rough few days.”

“Aye. I can imagine. How are yer wounds?”

“Mending.” Ewan gave his brother a fond look. “Unlike ye, I ken how tae obey a healer.”

Alistair chuckled. “I ken. I just dinnae care tae dae so. Besides, yer healer’s nae the cousin ye remember chasin’ about the castle an’ callin’ ‘Meadowcat’.”

“Nae. That she’s nae.” Ewan relaxed as his brother slung an arm over his shoulder, more at ease than he’d been in well over a season.

Marriage, and his coming fatherhood, had done Alistair a world of good. He was more open and easier to speak to. He was by no means soft, but the jagged edges of anger and grief that had coated his words and actions after the death of their father and his first fiancee had smoothed over, worn away by Niamh’s gentle warmth and strength.

He had always been a good laird, if a stern and harsh one at times. But he’d become both a better laird and a better man since he’d found love, and a family, in Niamh’s arms.

I wish I had the same good fortune.