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“Daddy. Mammy,” she said, feeling Alexander kneel next to her. She touched the words on the headstone, trailing the words with her finger like she always did.
For all the family’s wealth, it was a simple inscription.
Here lies Lillian MacRorie, beloved wife, adored mother.
And then a little further down:
And her husband, Ca
meron O’Donnel. Adored father.
Cicilia had only been able to add her father’s name once everything was in the open, and she still found herself getting used to seeing it there. It was a strange feeling, both extremely happy and terribly sad.
“Greetin’s to ye, Mr. O’Donnel, an’ ye, Mrs. Lillian. It’s always good to see ye,” Alexander said politely. “I hope heaven’s treatin’ ye both as well as ye deserve. Cicilia was determined we were comin’ to visit ye today, but I’m nae entirely sure why.”
He looked at her, and Cicilia smiled, realizing that she had not been as subtle as she thought. She supposed it didn’t matter; she needed to tell him anyway. Perhaps it was good that he knew some news was coming. Maybe it would make saying the words, making it real, much more comfortable.
“Aye. I wanted ye two to witness this. Ye deserve it more than anyone,” she said. Then she reached into her bag again, taking out something that made Alexander’s eyebrows raise in surprise.
It was a book. The book. Her father’s ledger, the one that she had taken such pains to hide from him what seemed like so long ago. Both of them kneeling at the graveside, she handed it to him. “I think,” she said, “It’s time that ye read this.”
Alexander blinked in surprise, then laughed loudly. “Och, ye’re really doin’ this now? I already ken most o’ it, an’ what I dinnae, doesn’ae matter much anymore, eh?”
“Humor me,” Cicilia entreated. “I want ye to read it.”
Though Alexander rolled his eyes a little, she knew he could not refuse her when she used that tone of voice. Sure enough, he opened it somewhere in the middle and began to read.
He chuckled every so often, perhaps every time he found another secret trick that she’d used to boost farm profits or hide her identity, but he didn’t show any anger. In fact, he seemed thoroughly amused, maybe even impressed.
But Cicilia’s stomach was in tight knots, waiting impatiently. She didn’t want to rush him, but she was so excited and nervous that every passing second made her feel like she may throw up.
Eventually, she couldn’t take it anymore. “Och, ye win!” she said impatiently.
Alexander looked confused. “I win at what? What did I do?”
Her own lack of patience would make her laugh later, but all it did now was make her point to the book and demand, “Turn to the last page.”
He furrowed his brow but did as she asked. The very last page of the book had fresher ink than the rest, scrawled by Cicilia’s own hand just this morning.
Alexander read it slowly while Cicilia anxiously watched his facial expression. It was unreadable as he took in the words, completely neutral, and it was impossible to tell what he was thinking.
Finally, slowly, he looked up. “Is this true?” he asked her. It sounded like he had something stuck in his throat.
“Aye,” Cicilia said, tears prickling at the back of her eyes. “Aye, I found out yesterday. I wanted—”
But she couldn’t finish her sentence before he’d grabbed her close, pulling her into a deep kiss. She threw her arms around his neck, responding in kind.
When they finally separated, Alexander was crying, too, a broad smile on his face. “Ye’re sure?”
“I’m sure,” she sobbed happily. She glanced at the book he’d dropped in the enthusiasm of her writing there under today’s date.
Future expenditure expected with the help of Laird Gallagher. Cicilia O’Donnel expected to birth a child in several months. The child will be heir to Gallagher clan and nephew to the future Farmer O’Donnel.
Alexander sniffed. “Such a ridiculous way to tell me,” he said, his enthusiasm bubbling up like a small child. “Ye’re a nightmare.”
“But I’m yer nightmare,” she teased.
He kissed her again, gently this time, then turned to the gravestone. He muttered something under his breath. Cicilia couldn’t hear, but she thought it sounded like he was thanking her parents. Then, looking back at her, he said, “Nay, Cicilia. Ye’re nae me nightmare.”
