Chapter 22
From the window in the small seating area off her bedchamber, Lizzie gazed out at the Kyle below, her eyes scanning the icy gray waters and snow-covered banks, and then, unwittingly, they turned north.
Though the hills she’d traversed with Patrick couldn’t be seen from Dunoon, she knew they were there.
He was there.
The sharp pang of longing had yet to dull. The tightness squeezed her chest and cut off her breath. She fought back the viselike grip of loneliness and despair.
Unconsciously, she wrapped the plaid she wore around her shoulders a little tighter.
It was the same one pulled from Patrick’s horse before their flight into the wilderness all those weeks ago.
Though winter had set in all around the Highlands, it was not the cold she sought to ward off.
Somehow, the raggedy plaid made her feel closer to him.
She lowered her head to her shoulder and nuzzled the scratchy wool against the side of her cheek. Every now and then, she would catch the faintest scent of pine and spice lingering in the rough woolen threads. She inhaled deeply and sighed with disappointment. Not today.
The memories were painful, but she held on to them because they were all she had.
A whisper of a smile lifted the corners of her mouth. Her hands dropped to her belly. Perhaps not all.
Lizzie closed her eyes and prayed that her suspicions were correct. The subtle roundness and the fact that she hadn’t bled in weeks gave her every reason to hope.
A child.
His child.
The part of him that she carried around in her heart would not be left alone to die and wither into bitterness and regret but would blossom with the new life she carried inside her.
For the first time since that horrible day four weeks ago when he’d left her without a word, Lizzie felt a ray of happiness slice through the miserable shadows of darkness.
She turned at the sound of a door opening, surprised to see her brother entering the room, and not far behind him, his furious, albeit stunningly beautiful, wife.
Jamie hesitated at the door, and with two hands pressed against his back, Caitrina pushed him unceremoniously into the room. Hands on her hips and just noticeably pregnant belly jutting forward, she glared at her husband and then back to Lizzie. “Your brother has something to say to you.”
Though Lizzie had been at Dunoon with Jamie and Caitrina for over a month, this was the first time she’d caught a glimpse of the Caitrina Lamont of the infamous spitfire reputation.
Lizzie had been charmed by the sweet girl who’d lost so much and yet had loved Jamie enough to forgive him for the destruction wrought on her clan.
But there was no sign of that forgiveness right now.
With her flashing eyes and furious expression, she looked part wildcat—ready to tear him apart with her tiny claws.
Lizzie frowned, wondering what Jamie had done to provoke such a reaction in his wife. It amused her to see Jamie so disconcerted. Caitrina was good for him. The changes in her brother had not gone unnoticed. He seemed lighter now—not so serious and unyielding.
Lizzie also had Caitrina to thank for Jamie’s apparent softening of his stance against the MacGregors.
So caught up in her own pain, Lizzie hadn’t thought about what her brother had actually done in allowing Patrick—chief of the outlawed clan—to go free.
Initially, Colin and her cousin Argyll had been furious, but after a few hours in the laird’s solar with Jamie, her cousin had changed his mind.
Argyll had traveled to London not long after they’d arrived at Dunoon (much to Caitrina’s relief), and Colin had returned briefly after the short trial where Gregor and his men had been sentenced to death then disappeared.
If she’d needed any further proof of the love Jamie bore his wife, however, she’d received it when she heard what he’d done in allowing Caitrina’s outlaw brother Niall to “escape.” No one escaped her brother—ever.
That he’d allowed Niall to do so demonstrated Jamie’s fair-mindedness to the plight not only of the Lamonts, but of the MacGregors as well.
With Niall Lamont on the loose, Lizzie could understand why Colin had made himself scarce following the executions.
If her brother wasn’t worried about Niall or Patrick exacting revenge for what Colin had done to Annie MacGregor, he should be.
The irony wasn’t lost on her—the hunter would learn what it felt like to be hunted.
Lizzie dropped the book she’d been reading—or trying to read—into her lap and gazed up at her brother with a questioning look on her face. “What is it, Jamie? Is there news of Duncan?”
She’d been shocked—but enormously pleased—on her return to Dunoon to discover from Jamie that their brother Duncan was rumored to have returned to Scotland.
She smiled. Perhaps the blatant nudge in her note about Jeannie Gordon’s recent loss had helped.
Jeannie was the woman Duncan had once loved who’d betrayed him—though Lizzie was no longer so sure.
Despite the treason hanging over Duncan’s head, he’d made quite a name for himself as the leader of a fierce group of warriors on the continent. It was about time he returned and proved his innocence. She’d missed him.
Jamie shook his head. “Nay. I’ve sent out scouts, but there’s been no sign of him. It’s probably nothing more than rumor.”
“Then what is the problem?” Lizzie asked.
Her brother gave his wife an angry glance, to which Caitrina responded immediately with one of her own.
“I swear I will give you nothing but daughters,” she warned, her voice heavy with foreboding.
“So that all of your overbearing, overprotective male ‘wisdom’ can be put to good use.” She smiled wickedly.
“Girls. A whole bevy of them. Just like me. For you to worry about and fret over”—her eyes gleamed—“forever.”
Lizzie could have sworn she saw her fierce, not-scared-of-anything brother pale. “What is this about, Jamie?” she asked.
“Tell her,” Caitrina ordered.
Lizzie’s pulse spiked as she waited for him to continue.
Not one to be intimidated, even by the wife he loved, Jamie drew himself up to every inch of his six-foot-plus frame, towering over his petite wife.
“I’ll not be raked over the coals, wife, for doing what I think is right.
Nor will I apologize for trying to protect someone I love.
” Looking none too pleased, he turned to Lizzie.
“I was only thinking of your happiness.”
Caitrina’s mouth quirked, and Lizzie could see that she was softening. For all her brother’s fierce overprotectiveness, it was difficult to stay angry with him in the face of such equally fierce emotion.
“Does she look happy?” Caitrina asked softly.
Jamie gave Lizzie a long look. Though she’d been trying to hide it, her unhappiness was palpable. “What I told you about Patrick MacGregor was true,” he said. “However, I did neglect to mention one thing.”
Her eyes narrowed with suspicion. “And what was that?”
“When I first offered MacGregor the land and his freedom, he refused. Quite adamantly, actually.”
Lizzie felt as if a weight had just been lifted from her shoulders. He did care for me. I knew I couldn’t have been that wrong. It wasn’t just about the land.
“Then how did you convince him to take the offer?” As if she needed to ask. She glanced at Caitrina in shared understanding.
“We thought—” Jamie started, but was cut off by a sarcastic scoff from his beautiful wife.
“That was your first mistake.”
Lizzie had an inkling of the source of her sister-by-marriage’s irritation and felt her own temper rise.
She’d warned Patrick not to make decisions for her, but it seemed he—and her interfering brother—couldn’t resist. Men.
Was there a more protective breed around than a proud Highland warrior?
“Let me guess. You and Patrick decided that I would be better off not married to a MacGregor—”
“An outlawed MacGregor,” Jamie clarified.
“Not any more,” Lizzie quipped back. “So you decided to make me believe that he didn’t want me.”
Jamie shrugged uncomfortably. “Something to that effect.”
Lizzie felt her face flush with anger. She rose to her feet and crossed the room to stand toe-to-toe with her overbearing lout of a big brother.
“How could you! How could you let me sit here in misery for weeks believing that the man I loved cared so little for me that he turned his back on me at the first opportunity? How could you both be so high-handed and cruel? I love him, Jamie. And if that means I live in a hovel, I will gladly do so. Wouldn’t you do as much for your wife?
” He had the good grace to grimace guiltily, but Lizzie wasn’t finished.
“How could you let my child grow up without a father?”
Jamie swallowed hard with a wince. “Child?”
“Oh, Lizzie, that’s wonderful!” Caitrina exclaimed, rushing over to give her a hug. “When?”
Lizzie smiled, the excitement contagious. “I’m not sure. I’ve only just suspected. Perhaps a few months after your babe.”
Jamie started to slink back, obviously happy for the change of subject, but Lizzie stopped him.
She crossed her arms over her chest and arched a brow.
“Where do you think you’re going? I’m not finished with you yet.
I’m not a girl anymore. I don’t need my big brother to fight my battles.
” She shook her head. “I should have said something and put a stop to this interfering after what you did to John Montgomery.”
Jamie smiled. “I’d like to take credit for that, lass. But someone beat me to it.”
Lizzie frowned. “But if you didn’t, who …”
Her gaze shot to her brother. Patrick. It amazed her to think that he’d felt enough of a connection even then to exact vengeance on her behalf.
The knowledge soothed her lingering hurt and made her even more certain that she hadn’t been completely wrong about his motives and feelings. “Did you know it was him?”