Chapter 25
“Ye’re doin’ it all wrong, Me Lady.”
Francesca looked up from the dough she’d been attempting to knead, finding the old cook watching her with barely concealed amusement. The castle kitchens bustled around them, filled with the warmth of ovens and the chatter of servants preparing the evening meal.
“Show me again?” Francesca asked, not the least bit embarrassed.
“Aye, like this.” Morag’s weathered hands demonstrated the proper folding technique. “Ye push, fold, turn. Push, fold, turn. There’s a rhythm to it, see?”
Francesca mimicked the motion, feeling the dough begin to cooperate under her hands. “Like this?”
“Better! Yer learnin’, Me Lady. Soon ye’ll be makin’ bannocks as good as any Highland woman.”
“I wouldnae go that far,” Krista called from across the kitchen, grinning. “But she’s improvin’, that’s certain.”
“The Laird must be pleased,” Morag said, a knowing glint in her eye. “Havin’ a wife who wants to ken our ways.”
Francesca felt warmth spread through her chest. It had been her idea to spend time in the kitchens, learning traditional Highland cooking.
Not because Declan expected it—he’d seemed genuinely baffled when she’d announced her intention—but because she wanted to.
These were her people now. This was her home.
“Aye, he’s fair besotted with her,” Krista agreed. “Ye should see the way he looks at Her Ladyship when he thinks no one’s watchin’. Like she hung the moon and stars just for him.”
“Krista!” Francesca felt her cheeks heat.
“What? It’s true!” The maid laughed. “And we’re all glad of it. The Laird’s been a different man since ye came. Happier. More patient with the clan’s squabbles.”
“He smiles now,” Morag added sagely. “That’s how we ken ye’re good for him, Me Lady. He smiles.”
One hour later, Francesca walked through the village with Eloise, a basket over her arm.
They’d come to deliver herbs to the healer and check on the blacksmith’s wife, who’d recently given birth to twins.
Two guards stood close by, while several others mingled discreetly among the people, keeping a close eye on Francesca and Eloise.
“Ma?” Eloise tugged on her hand.
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“Why are we bringin’ herbs to Mistress MacKay?”
“Because she just had two babies, and certain herbs help a new mother recover her strength.” Francesca squeezed her daughter’s hand. “It’s what ladies do—we take care of our people.”
“Like how Da takes care of them by settlin’ disputes and protectin’ the borders?”
“Exactly like that. We each have our own way of caring for the clan.”
They found Mistress MacKay resting while her mother-in-law tended the twins. The new mother’s face lit up when she saw them.
“Lady MacGhee! And wee Eloise! What a lovely surprise.”
“We brought herbs for your recovery,” Francesca said, setting the basket down. “And some sweet biscuits that Eloise helped make.”
“I put the sugar on them meself!” Eloise announced proudly.
“Did ye now?” Mistress MacKay smiled. “Then they must be extra delicious. Thank ye both.”
While the women talked, Eloise peered curiously at the babies. “They’re so small.”
“Aye, they are.” The grandmother beckoned her closer. “Would ye like to hold one? If yer ma says it’s all right?”
Eloise looked at Francesca, who nodded. The old woman carefully placed one of the twins in Eloise’s arms, showing her how to support the baby’s head.
“She’s perfect,” Eloise breathed, staring down at the infant with wonder. “Ma, look how tiny her fingers are!”
Francesca’s hand instinctively went to her own stomach, a gesture that was becoming habit. She’d been almost certain for weeks now, though she hadn’t told Declan yet. She wanted to be absolutely sure before raising his hopes.
“Ye’ll make a fine big sister one day,” Mistress MacKay said warmly. “When the Laird and Lady have their own bairns.”
Eloise’s head snapped up. “Really? Ye think so?”
“Of course! Ye’re already so gentle and careful.”
As they left the cottage, Eloise chattered excitedly about babies and being a big sister. Francesca listened, her heart full, thinking about the secret she carried. Soon. She’d tell Declan soon.
That afternoon, Fraser found them in the solar. Francesca was working on her embroidery while Eloise practiced writing, and Declan reviewed reports at his desk. The scene was so domestic that Fraser paused in the doorway, something unreadable crossing his face.
“Cousin,” he said finally. “Might I have a word?”
Declan looked up. “Aye, of course. Francesca, would ye—”
“Stay,” Fraser interrupted. “What I have to say concerns ye both.”
Francesca set down her needlework as Fraser entered fully, closing the door behind him. His expression was serious, almost sad.
“I’ve received word from Clan McArthur,” he said without preamble. “Me brother… he’s ill. Verra ill. The healers donnae think he’ll last the winter.”
“Fraser,” Declan was on his feet immediately. “I’m sorry.”
“Aye, well.” Fraser’s jaw tightened. “We’ve nae been close, he and I, but he’s still me brother. And more than that, he’s the Laird. When he passes…” He took a breath. “The clan will need me. I’ll have to return. Permanently.”
The weight of those words settled over the room. Eloise looked up from her writing, sensing the shift in mood.
“Ye’ll be Laird McArthur,” Declan said quietly.
“Aye. Unless me brother produces an heir in the next few months, which seems unlikely given his condition.” Fraser moved to the window, staring out at MacGhee lands. “I never wanted it. Ye ken that. I’ve been happy here, servin’ as yer second. But duty…”
“Duty calls,” Francesca finished softly. “We understand, Fraser.”
“When do ye leave?” Declan asked.
“A fortnight. I need to settle some affairs here first, make sure Duncan is ready to step into me role.” Fraser turned back to face them. “I’m sorry. I ken this is poor timing with everythin’ settled so nicely.”
“Daenae apologize for family duty.” Declan crossed to his cousin, gripping his shoulder. “Ye’ve been more than a second to me. Ye’ve been a brother. If ye need to go, then ye go with me blessing and me gratitude.”
“Will we ever see ye again?” Eloise’s small voice cut through the moment. She’d abandoned her writing and now stood near Fraser, her eyes suspiciously bright. “Will ye forget about us?”
“Never, wee one.” Fraser crouched down to her level. “I could never forget ye or yer ma or yer da. Ye’re family. And family doesnae forget each other, nae matter the distance.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.” He ruffled her hair gently. “And ye’ll have to visit. Someone needs to keep me in line when I’m laird, and I think ye’d be perfect for the job.”
Despite the sadness of the moment, Eloise giggled.
The days that followed were bittersweet. Fraser went about his duties with his usual efficiency, but there was an underlying melancholy to everything. Declan spent long hours with his cousin, going over clan business and sharing memories of their years together.
The night before Fraser was set to leave, they held a small gathering in the great hall. Nothing formal—just family and close friends, sharing food and drink and stories.
“Remember when Declan fell in the loch tryin’ to impress that lass from Clan MacLeod?” Fraser was saying, his eyes bright with whisky and laughter.
“I didnae fall, I was pushed,” Declan protested.
“By who? The wind?” Fraser grinned. “Ye were showin’ off, tryin’ to walk across that narrow log, and ye went straight into the water.”
“And ye jumped in after me, even though I didnae need savin’.”
“Aye, well. Isnae that what I am here for? ”
The word hung in the air. Eloise, who’d been allowed to stay up late for the occasion, climbed into Fraser’s lap.
“Will ye write to us?” she asked. “Tell us about Clan McArthur?”
“Every month,” Fraser promised. “And ye’ll have to write back, tell me about all yer adventures. How Bluebell’s babies are growin’. What new tricks yer da teaches ye.”
“I will. I promise.”
Later, after Eloise had been carried to bed by Betsy, the adults sat around the fire. Francesca found herself studying the three men—Declan, Fraser, and Duncan—thinking about how much had changed in such a short time.
“Ye ken,” Fraser said, his voice soft, “when ye first arrived, Lady Francesca, I thought Declan was makin’ a terrible mistake. A marriage of convenience to an English woman with a bastard child?” He shook his head. “I thought it would end in disaster.”
“Fraser—” Declan started.
“Let me finish.” Fraser looked at Francesca directly.
“I was wrong. So verra wrong. Ye’ve been exactly what he needed.
What this clan needed. Ye’ve brought warmth back to these halls, made Declan remember how to live instead of just survive.
Ye’ve given him a family.” He raised his cup.
“So thank ye, Me Lady. For savin’ me cousin when I couldnae. ”
Francesca’s eyes filled with tears. “You’re a good man, Fraser McArthur. Your clan is lucky to have you.”
“Here, here,” Duncan added, raising his own cup.
They drank in silence, the fire crackling, the weight of tomorrow’s goodbye pressing down on all of them.
The next morning dawned grey and cold, fitting for a farewell. They gathered in the courtyard as Fraser’s horse was prepared. His belongings were already packed, strapped to a second horse that would carry his supplies.
Eloise clung to his legs, crying openly. “I daenae want ye to go!”
“I ken, wee one.” Fraser picked her up, holding her close. “But remember what I said. This isnae goodbye forever. Just… goodbye for now.”
“Ye’ll come back?”
“Aye, I’ll come back to visit. And ye’ll come see me in McArthur lands.” He set her down gently, turning to Francesca. “Take care of him, Me Lady. Daenae let him get too serious again.”
“I won’t,” she promised, embracing him briefly. “Safe travels, Fraser. And congratulations on your impending lairdship, though I know it’s not the path you would have chosen.”
“Life rarely gives us the path we’d choose. But sometimes the path we get is better than we imagined.” He looked pointedly at Declan. “Ye taught me that, cousin.”
The two men clasped arms, then pulled each other into a fierce hug.
“Thank ye,” Declan said quietly. “For everythin’. For standin’ by me all these years. For challengin’ me when I needed it. For bein’ the brother I never had.”
“Take care of yer family,” Fraser said, his voice rough. “And write to me. Tell me when the next bairn arrives.”
He mounted his horse, taking one last look at Castle MacGhee, at the people gathered to see him off. Then, with a final wave, he rode through the gates.
They stood watching until he disappeared over the hill. Eloise sniffled beside Francesca, who pulled her close.
“Come on, sweetheart,” Francesca said softly. “Let’s go inside. Perhaps we can bake something special for dinner. What do you think?”
“Bannocks,” Eloise said through her tears. “Fraser loves bannocks.”
“Then bannocks it is. We’ll save some for when he visits again.”
As they turned toward the castle, Declan caught Francesca’s hand, pulling her back for a moment. Eloise continued inside with Betsy, leaving them alone in the courtyard.
“Are ye all right?” she asked, touching his face.
“Aye. Sad to see him go, but aye.” He pulled her close, resting his chin on her head. “I keep thinkin’ about what he said. About how ye saved me.”
“You saved yourself.”
“Nay, lass. Ye gave me a reason to try. Ye and Eloise both.” He pulled back to look at her. “Before ye came, I was just… existin’. Doin’ me duty. But now I have somethin’ worth livin’ for. Worth fightin’ for.”
“I love you,” she whispered.
“And I love ye. More than words can say.”
They stood there for a long moment, holding each other, two people who’d found their way to something neither had known they needed.
Later that evening, after Eloise was asleep, they lay in bed together. Francesca’s head rested on Declan’s chest, his fingers trailing through her hair.
“I have somethin’ to tell ye,” she said softly.
“Aye?”
She took his hand and placed it on her stomach. “I’m fairly certain… that is, I think we’re going to have a baby.”
He went very still beneath her. Then he sat up, pulling her with him, his eyes searching her face in the firelight.
“Truly?”
“I’m not completely certain yet. But all the signs… I didn’t want to say anything until I was sure, but after Fraser’s goodbye, after everything today, I realized life is too short to keep happy secrets.”
“A baby.” Wonder filled his voice. “We’re goin’ to have a baby.”
“Are you happy?”
“Happy?” He laughed, the sound full of joy. “Lass, I’m beyond happy. I’m… I’m everythin’.”
He kissed her then, deep and sweet and full of promise. When they finally broke apart, both breathless, he kept his hand on her stomach.
“A baby,” he repeated softly. “Eloise is goin’ to be so excited.”
“She is.” Francesca smiled. “She’s been asking about being a big sister for weeks now.”
They lay back down, wrapped in each other and contentment. Outside, the wind howled around Castle MacGhee. But inside, in their chamber, there was only warmth and love and the promise of new life.
“I love ye,” Declan whispered into the darkness.
“And I love you.”
Tomorrow, they would tell Eloise. Tomorrow, they would begin preparing for the newest member of their family. But tonight, they simply held each other, savoring this perfect moment before everything changed once more.