Page 32 of The Highlander’s Hellion Wife (Legacy of Highland Lairds #1)

32

“ C ome in,” Duncan growled, straightening up in his chair.

He had been leaning over his desk for hours, and his muscles had become strained and tight.

Athol poked his head around the door. “I apologize for the intrusion,” he began. “But a messenger has just delivered this, and I believe ye’ll it of the utmost importance, Me Laird.”

He held out a piece of parchment.

Even from a distance, Duncan could see the wax seal on the back of it, the familiar crest shining in the bright sunlight spilling in through the window at his back.

“MacKimmon,” he murmured.

It had been three days since Johnson Blake had attempted to take his wife’s life. Duncan had written to MacKimmon, explaining everything that had occurred. They had all been eagerly awaiting his reply.

Athol took a few more steps forward, watching as Duncan plucked the parchment from his hands.

Duncan dismissed the guard and then stared at the letter in his palms.

This was it, everything he had fought for and his men had died for. It all came down to this. What was contained in the letter he held in his shaking hands would either save or damn them all.

Duncan could not stop the small bubble of hope that began building in his chest. He pulled the wax seal away from the parchment, already planning his response in the event that MacKimmon had decided to go back on his word.

He had killed his man-at-arms, after all. Many lairds would not allow such a transgression to go unpunished, even if the bastard had deserved it.

His eyes flew over the words, and with each passing one, the bubble of hope in his chest grew further.

Laird Marsden,

Thank you for your letter. As I told you when you barged into my castle, the terms of the peace agreement have been well and truly accepted.

I apologize deeply for the actions of Johnson Blake. Had I known about what he’d planned, I assure you that I would have dispatched him myself.

My men are tired. I am tired. And I agree that we should take this time to allow our people and lands to heal.

I look forward to meeting you in the coming days, so we can iron out all the details of this peace agreement and how we might move forward.

Sincerest Regards,

Hector Kaysen, Laird of Clan MacKimmon.

Relief, the likes of which Duncan had never felt, filled him as the reality of it all sank in. He had spent the last three days promising Alison and Rosie that he would not be leaving them again. With MacKimmon’s letter in hand, he could now prove to them both that he was neither a fool nor a liar.

He needed to give them the good news immediately.

Pushing his chair back from his desk, Duncan held the parchment in his hand and strode out of the room.

He felt lighter than he had in years. The burden of responsibility for the lives of the men he had sent off to war no longer weighed on his mind and shoulders.

After breakfast, he had walked Rosie and Alison to the rose garden, so Alison could sit and read for a while. He hoped they were still there.

Sunlight immediately warmed his skin as he stepped out into the garden, and sure enough, there they were. It seemed that they had not heard him exit the castle.

Alison was sitting on a bench near Rosie, an open book in her hands, while Rosie played in the grass. Duncan took a moment to admire them.

They are so beautiful.

He could not wait a moment longer, even though he hated to disturb the peaceful moment the two had carved out for themselves.

He approached the pair on silent feet, but when his massive body blocked out the sun and cast a shadow over Alison, she looked up at him.

“What are ye doin’ out here?” she asked, giving him a soft smile. “I thought ye said ye had work to do.”

Duncan nodded. “Aye, I did. But there’s somethin’ I want ye to see.”

He held MacKimmon’s letter out to her, bending slightly so she did not have to strain to reach it.

She had healed quite a bit over the last three days. She was still quite sore and was not nearly as mobile as she would have liked, but she now only needed to take one vial of the pain tincture right before she went to bed.

She had even been able to take short walks on her own without needing to lean on him or Malina. They had all been impressed with her quick recovery.

“What’s this?” she asked, but it did not stop her from plucking the paper out of Duncan’s fingers.

He watched anxiously as she slowly unfolded the parchment, her soft brown eyes scanning the words. He smiled delightedly when her lovely features shifted as she absorbed the many ramifications of the letter’s contents.

She finished the letter, before setting it down on her lap and then staring up at him. Her eyes were sparkling, and a radiant smile split her face.

Duncan’s eyes shone with happiness as he gave her a wide, infectious grin. Rosie, however, was unaware of the tender exchange between her parents. She dropped her doll and looked from her mother to her father.

It did not take long for her to spot the parchment resting in her mother’s lap and tilt her head to the side.

“What’s that, Maither?” she asked, crawling across the grass to where Alison sat.

“’Tis a letter,” Alison answered, her gaze never leaving Duncan’s. “It says that yer faither will be stayin’ with us.”

“Really?” Rosie exclaimed, turning to Duncan with a wide grin.

He nodded. “Aye, lass. ‘Tis true. I willnae be goin’ away. Nae for a good, long while.”

“Just as he promised.” Alison’s voice was low and hushed, filled with a reverence that he had never heard in it before, but it was there all the same.

He wanted to sit with Alison and Rosie for a while, to bask in the sunshine with the promise of a happy future laid out before them. But just as he was about to do that, the courtyard door was thrown open and Athol appeared.

“I apologize, Me Laird,” the guard said. “But we’ve received another correspondence about a ledger that requires yer immediate attention.”

Duncan nodded curtly, irritated by the guard’s untimely interruption.

“I’m goin’ back inside to me study,” he explained. “But I will see ye for dinner if nae sooner.”

Alison nodded. Her expression was one of such joy and hope that it made Duncan’s heart feel as if it was being squeezed.

He turned around and followed Athol, who handed him the letter. He began reading it while he walked back to his study.

There will be plenty of other days that I can spend with them. We have the rest of our lives, after all.

“Well, ye look lovely!” Malina’s melodic voice echoed through the room.

Alison whirled around. Her friend was standing in the doorway and admiring her as she stood before the mirror.

“Thank ye,” she said, her cheeks pinkening. “I was finally feelin’ up to dressin’ on me own and wanted to look nice for the occasion.”

“Aye, ye look nice in that new dress ye’re wearin’.” Malina grinned, walking further into the room.

Alison turned away from her, going back to the mirror and slightly readjusting the fabric of her skirts. The vials jingled merrily as Malina fished through her medical bag and quickly produced three of them, which she set on the small table in the center of Alison’s dressing area.

“I have to travel to Whippich,” Malina explained. “They’ve sent word that they need a healer. Some kind of illness affectin’ the bairns. Since I ken ye’re in good hands here, I’ll leave ye with yer vials.”

“How long will ye be gone?” Alison asked, already missing her friend’s presence.

“I should only be three days, but I’ll ken more when I get there and can see ‘em.”

Alison nodded, turning to face her once more.

Malina’s eyes swept over her again, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “I heard that MacKimmon’s response came today,” she said, and Alison responded with a nod. “So, the Laird really will be stayin’ with us?”

“Aye,” Alison confirmed, unable to stop the smile that spread across her face. “For a good long while, accordin’ to him.”

Malina chuckled. “I’m assumin’ that is the reason for the new dress?”

“Among other things.”

Alison held Malina’s gaze, the two of them falling silent for a moment.

There were so many things that Alison was feeling. So many emotions she was struggling to put into words. But the biggest ones were relief and gratitude.

She reached forward, pulling Malina into an unexpected hug.

“Thank ye,” she said, her voice thick with all the emotions that were coursing through her. “Thank ye for bein’ me friend for all these years and stickin’ by me side. Thank ye for lovin’ Rosie the way ye do. And, mostly, thank ye for savin’ me life.”

Malina’s shoulders were stiff, but they gradually relaxed. She patted Alison on the back before hugging her tighter.

“I would have saved ye a thousand times,” she murmured. “But ye have to promise me that ye willnae get stabbed or otherwise while I’m gone.”

Alison chuckled, pulling back so she could gaze at her friend’s face. “I truly wish I could promise ye that. But bad men will always be out there, doin’ bad things.”

“Aye, that’s true,” Malina responded with a solemn nod. “But the Laird will be here with ye. I cannae imagine anyone tryin’ anythin’ else after news of how he dispatched Blake when he came for ye traveled like wildfire through the whole of Scotland. Now that we’re in peace times, there should be nothin’ to worry about. Just dinnae tear yer stitches, and ye’ll be just fine.”

Alison nodded.

The two women shared another hug, then the healer turned around and strode out of the room.

Alison was happy that Malina had stopped by to say goodbye, even if she was only going to be gone for a short while. She turned back to the mirror, putting the final touches on her new gown, then turned and slowly walked out of her chambers.

The maids and her husband had all clucked around her like worried hens when she had told them that she wanted to dress for dinner on her own. She eventually convinced them to stop arguing with her by promising that she would call for them if she needed help.

Over the past three days, Malina had talked excitedly about how quickly Alison was healing. But the simple truth was that Alison had been fortunate. She had been so damned lucky that, although Blake had stabbed her, it had been at such an angle that the knife had not gone in too deeply or punctured vital organs.

She was also aware that she had been blessed with a husband, daughter, and friends who would continue to support her while she took the time she needed to heal.

After much effort, Alison arrived at the dining hall, but she immediately stopped in her tracks and looked around the room.

They had company.