Chapter Thirty-Four Douglas
“ I have to leave, sweetie. I love you. Have a good day, okay?”
I sit bolt upright and grab Georgia’s arm with a hoarse shout. “Wait!”
Georgia sits back on the edge of the bed. She’s in the little black dress again, and the sun peeps through the curtains where they don’t quite meet.
“Okay, but just for a minute. I have to change. Working in my good dress is asking for trouble.”
“You said goodbye.”
Maybe it’s waking up suddenly, or maybe a bad memory of waking up and feeling for Nicola next to me, then finding her gone...
Georgia frowns. “I did, but I’ll be back.”
I nod, staring stupidly for a minute before putting a hand to my head. “I’m just... I’m happy you said goodbye before you left.”
“Doug? What’s wrong?”
Doug. My parents used to call me that. I swallow hard, twin pains in my throat. “Nicola left our house in the middle of the night for a swim, or to fish. I don’t know for certain, because she never said. She never said goodbye before she left that night, or any night. She drowned and didn’t come back. I’m just happy you said goodbye.”
Georgia hurriedly crawls in beside me, pretty black frock on the sheets we’ve rumpled, pushing her body to mine as she hugs me. “That’s horrible. Bad memory?”
“The worst.”
“I’ll always tell you goodbye and I love you,” she whispers against my cheek.
“All right.” I’m trying not to cry. This is a happy thing, a happy start.
Maybe when you get happy enough, the old wounds stop hiding. Maybe so someone can help you fix them.
“I don’t have to go to work. Or... Why don’t you get dressed and come with me? You said you can work from anywhere. Work in the backroom. It’s technically the office, but we just call it the backroom most of the time.”
“No, precious, I’m fine. But I’ll be in around noon, all right?”
“Are you sure? I don’t have to go. Honest.”
She would wait for me. Stay with me. “I would do the same for you,” I whisper, kissing her again.
“Hm? Do what for me?”
“Anything at all, my love.”
I DIG THROUGH THE SLENDER brown leather case with the Wickstaff crest emblazoned on it. It was done in gold stamping, but the gold is almost gone. My fingers can trace the faded impression of three crossed swords and two staffs that make a cross. One thumb flicks up the catch and reveals a handful of trinkets.
My father’s silver knife, barely fitting in the twelve-inch case. Cuff links. A tie tack. My mother’s pearl earrings. The rest is with Finlay’s wife, and I’m not bitter about it. I take our grandmother’s wedding ring and hold it to the light. Still shines like new. Good Dwarve-made jewelry will always hold its shine.
This wasn’t Nicola’s ring. I wanted to give her something fancy, covered in jewels...
This one—
“Bloody hell.” I snap my fingers shut over the ring. “This one won’t fit Georgia!”
My family ring will slide right off Georgia’s slender, half-human fingers. Unless I have this ring sized.
But what if we have a son who has an Orc bride or a daughter who takes after the Orcish side of the family?
And would the local jeweler even know how to deal with Dwarvish gold?
Maybe it’s a sign that I...
I slam that thought right out of my head.
It’s a sign that I should go buy Georgia a beautiful ring.
I look at the earrings in the box.
A pearl ring. A big, beautiful pearl with diamonds around it, and I’ll give her the earrings on our wedding day. No, the week before, so she doesn’t have two sets.
For a moment, I’m swamped, stopped in my tracks, picturing Georgia beaming as she marches down the aisle to me. She’ll smile, a real, broad, genuine smile, just for me.
Nicola’s eyes wandered from me to the guests, and back again. I thought she was so calm and so aware of her duties as the bride, so gracious to all those who had come from afar to see our wedding.
Suddenly, I’m wondering if that was a mistake. Did it mean she was wandering off from me from the beginning? Did she look away, wishing she wasn’t the one walking up the aisle, or that someone else was at the end of it?
I sit on the edge of the bed and pull out my mobile.
I don’t think I want to make any more mistakes. I know they’ll happen, but I can do what I can to prevent them—like not letting Nicola’s mother and father hear that I’m remarrying from anyone else.
The number is still ingrained in my memory after all these years, and I dial it before I can think what I’ll say.
I just know I have to say something .
“Douglas?”
“Moira!” I haven’t heard my mother-in-law’s voice in years. We drifted apart, and they let me go, rather gladly, I think. I was a painful reminder and worthless at giving comfort when I was silent and stunned by it all.
“Good Lord! How are you, dear? I heard you’d moved to America!”
“I did. I did. I moved to Pine Ridge, near Ian Fenclan.”
“Ah, the Fenclans. Good friends of Clan Wickstaff—and Clan Bloodstone.”
“Indeed. Um. Moira, I—”
“You can still call me Mum if you’d like.” Her voice is soft. Faded. Pained.
“It’s... It’s good to hear your voice, Mum.” I don’t like it. Doesn’t fit. My mother was Mum or Ma. This lady will always be Moira or Mother Moira. I press on, determined to avoid it if I can. “I wanted you to know that... That I’d like to remarry. I’ve met someone. No disrespect to Nicola or her memory.” My voice is a guilty rush.
There’s a moment of silence, then a soft query. “Darling Douglas... You didn’t think we expected you to stay single and in mourning forever, did you?”
I expected me to. “I wouldn’t blame you. I... I wasn’t a good husband to your daughter. For that, I owe you more penance than I can pay.”
“Douglas Wickstaff! What in the name of Ultarn the Prolific are you havering about? You were kind, faithful, and loving to our Nicola. She told me that you were the finest husband a woman could have!”
She did? “She did?” I blink and rub my brow. “No... No, Moira, she barely talked to me after the first few months. It wasn’t like she was silent and spiteful, but she had nothing to say to me. We lived on small talk or no talk at all. It was like I stole the fire from her. When I met her at the Gathering of Clans, she was so witty and full of life, so vibrant—”
“Vivacious.” Moira’s voice is suddenly bitter.
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“Douglas... That was how she was in public. Nicola always had a public persona. A mask she’d put on, a costume, if you will. I suppose it became more refined and consistent as she aged, since she was off our lands more and mingling with other clans, conducting her business, and the like. She wanted to find a mate, and she was determined to catch everyone’s eye.”
“And she did.”
“Mhm. My daughter was a grand fisherwoman, wasn’t she?”
“None finer, but—”
“She knew what lures to cast, what bait to use. I told her it wasn’t honest, once, but she... I don’t know, Douglas. Every mother wants to see her little girl grow up and find love, to be happy. I let myself believe that Nicola changed over the years, even though I knew that she was always happiest alone by the river, swimming in the lochs, or hunting in the woods. I knew that the Nicola who danced and flirted didn’t quite seem like my daughter... But people change.”
“People change,” I repeat the words slowly.
“She wanted to be like her sisters. She did what she thought would lead her to love, to a greater happiness.”
“There was nothing wrong with the way she was!” My voice carries heat. I don’t know who I’m mad at. Moira, for not warning me that Nicola wasn’t as outgoing as she seemed, Nicola, for thinking she couldn’t be honest with me from the start, myself, for not being the right husband for her, whoever she was, or the world, for ever teaching a person that they can’t be comfortable and happy just as they are.
“I know that. You know that. I don’t think Nicola knew that. I think, honestly,” Moira’s voice is so very tired now, “that she shouldn’t have gotten married. She was happiest alone, with her birds and beasts around her. Some people are like that, you know. Meant to be alone.”
My face twists. I thought I was meant to be alone as some sort of punishment. I was meant to be alone because I failed my wife. Now, I’m just confused.
Georgia’s made me more talkative, I suppose. A few months ago, I would have grunted something and ended the call.
“Whether Nicola was meant to be wed or single, she was my mate, and I tried to make her happy. I think I failed her.”
“No! No, Douglas, no one could have loved her more steadfastly. You did all you could do. All she let you do. If she was quiet around you—it was because she trusted you and was comfortable around you. She stopped putting on her party face and was just herself.”
Tears prick my eyes.
“D’you think she was happy, really?”
“Very happy, Douglas. She trusted you. She loved you—as best she could.”
“I did the same.”
“I know, son. And I’m very happy for you and the young lady. What’s her name?”
“Georgia.”
“Pretty. If... If it’s all the same to you, we’d rather not come to the wedding, Douglas. You know we still love you as a son and member of our clan, but it would bring up so many memories. I don’t think Ragnald could stand it.”
My father-in-law is a gruff and silent man, and he wept like a bairn at Nicola’s funeral. “I don’t want to put you through that. I only want to let you know before you hear it from anyone else,” I soothe. “I haven’t even told Finlay yet. I haven’t even proposed!”
“Thank you for thinking of us first, Douglas. You’ve been a wonderful son-in-law. You always will be, in our hearts.”
“Thank you... Mum.”
WHEN THE CALL IS FINISHED , I pace, confused and conflicted about what Moira said. She never said it before. Was it something so obvious that she figured it didn’t need telling? Am I just as thick as two planks?
I don’t know—but I feel a little better.
I scoop up the pearl earrings and put them in the inner pocket of my sporran so that I can show the jeweler what I want to match. My eyes linger on the ring.
I never gave it to Nicola. It was a sign, wasn’t it, that she was the wrong one? I never felt that it would be the ring for my mate. My mother’s ring went to Finlay, as the eldest, and my father’s mother’s ring was given to me. But I didn’t use it when I had the chance, and I’m not using it now—
Because it wouldn’t fit.
It is a sign! It’s not a sign that Nicola was wrong, it’s a sign that Georgia is right ! This ring wouldn’t fit her hand, but it could fit our daughter or son, or one of their intendeds.
I smile up at heaven, where generations of Wickstaffs are hopefully watching me make a fresh start. “This is the one. I know it. This isn’t a mistake— Oh. But it might have been a mistake to tell Moira before I asked Georgia—or asked for her father’s blessing. Damn it.”
Generations of Wickstaffs probably predicted this, frankly.
I tip them the wink. “Don’t worry. I’m on it.”
“DOUGIE!”
Ian’s giant truck skids to a halt on the long, rocky lane that leads up to his house.
“Ian! I was just coming to see you.”
“I was just out to bag a few haunches of venison! Come with?”
I want to ask this man if I can marry Georgia, his only daughter, with his blessing—after only knowing her for a short time.
Should I do it while he’s holding a rifle or wait?
“Crossbows, Dougie. You were a dab hand with a crossbow years ago!”
I could possibly survive an arrow. Better than a bullet, anyway. “I have to meet Georgia for lunch, Ian.” There’s a nice lead-in.
One eyebrow arches. “D’ye now?”
“Mhm.”
Ian pulls his truck to the side of the road. I park the Land Rover on the opposing side and walk to join him. Ian crosses his arms, but his face stays relaxed, a slow smile spreading. “You two have seen a lot of each other.”
Shut up, brain. Banish the thoughts of Georgia’s every inch bared to you.
Think about why she’s safe with you. Why you’ll never tire of seeing a lot of her, of how young or old, young and perfect or wrinkled and withered, she’ll always hold your heart.
“I love her so much, Ian. She’s everything I ever hoped to find.” I blurt it out, grabbing for his arm like I did when I was younger and lost my footing.
Just like he did years ago, Ian steadies me. “Love? Love! Dougie, ye’ve hardly—”
“When did you know Farrah was your mate?”
Ian stops, taken aback. “The first time I spoke to her.”
“Then, by comparison, I’ve been courting for years. No, I know it’s short, but we’re both adults, mature, and older than so many young couples just starting out.” Words pour out. “She’s steady, and smart, and beautiful. So warm and sweet. Talented! I could go on and on, Ian, but you know all the things she is. I know them, too. I want years and years more to find out the rest of what she is. A-and for some insane reason, she likes me! Loves me, even.” My voice rises in joy and falls away fast. “I don’t care if she wants to wait five years to say yes, but can I have your blessing to ask her to marry me? When she wants to. If she wants to.” I know she wants to be together now, like me, but maybe this will ease Ian’s worries, whatever they are.
Ian’s hands fall to his side. For a moment, he just stares, wide-eyed.
And silent.
I used to prefer silence, but not now. I reach into my sporran and pull out the pearl earrings. “I thought I’d get her a pearl ring and give her the earrings. They were my mother’s. She is ‘the pearl without price.’ She is matchless.”
“You didn’t say flawless.”
“She’s not flawless, Ian, but no more am I! I don’t mind her flaws. And what I do mind, well... I’ll bloody well learn to love because I love her, Ian. She’s my mate. My true mate. Ask her! Or... Or if I ask her, and she says no, I’ll clear off. Leave town, even.”
“Wheesht, man, quiet yersel’.” Ian’s brogue thickens to the consistency of porridge. “Aye.”
I stop talking, squint, and then venture, “Aye?”
“Aye, I give my blessing. Ask her. She’ll no’ be told by me or anyone else what to do. If she doesnae want to marry you, she’ll tell ye.” His somber expression changes to one of slow-spreading happiness. “I doubt she’ll tell you no, lad.”
“I don’t think she will... But I’ll feel better after I ask her.”
“You’ve been like a little brother all these years, and now you’ll be like a son.” The slow smile solidifies into a cemented beam of joy. Even though Georgia looks far more like her mother, it’s clear she has Ian’s warmth and his broad, ready smile.
“It’s really all right?”
“Aye, it is. Not just because I know you’re good stock and a good man, Douglas. Georgia’s been waiting for ages for the right one. She’s never had her head turned once, and for you, she’s properly spun.”
“It goes both ways, Ian. She’s anything and everything a person could want. It’s a miracle she wasn’t already snatched up before I met her.”
“Hm. It’s exactly that.” Ian gives a reverent look upward. “He arranges everything just so. Hm. That makes me feel quite a bit better about the whole thing.” His voice drops with a whisper and a wink. “I don’t argue with Him.”
I might have in the past, but I don’t want to now. “I’m planning to ask her on Sunday afternoon.”
“So soon?” Ian’s eyebrows fly high, then settle back as he nods. “I think I asked Farrah in... three weeks? I had to, before she left for the States.”
I shrug. I don’t have anything pulling me away. I’m finally home. Georgia was already here. “It’s time.” That’s all I have to say.
Ian nods, then opens the door of his truck. “You know... I think I’ll wait on the venison. Could be I’ll be hosting another hunt before long.”