Chapter 32
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
“Stubborn wee lass,” he muttered under his breath, voice low and rough. “Can she nae ken when to leave well enough alone?”
Declan paced the length of his study in measured, angry beats.
He turned sharply at the sound of knuckles rapping against the door.
“Enter,” he barked, his tone clipped. The door creaked open, and Mabel stepped in, her expression calm but her eyes sharp with concern.
“Declan,” she said softly, closing the door behind her, “ye’re pacin’ a hole in the floor again. What’s set ye off this time?”
Declan dragged a hand through his hair, frustration rippling through him.
“It’s Isabelle,” he said, his voice tight. “She willnae listen. She thinks I’m keepin’ distance for naught but stubborn pride when I’m sparin’ her the truth of what I am.”
Mabel raised an eyebrow, folding her hands neatly before her. “And what exactly are ye, braither ? I’d like to hear ye say it.”
He turned toward her, eyes shadowed, his voice a low growl. “A monster, Mabel. Same as our faither. It’s in the blood, aye? A man like me shouldnae be close to anyone, wife or bairn.”
Mabel let out a sharp scoff and crossed her arms.
“Dinnae talk such nonsense, Declan. Ye’re nae monster. Our faither was cruel and twisted. Ye endured him. Ye never once became him.”
Declan’s eyes flashed as he turned back to the fire, his shoulders tense beneath his tunic.
“Endured, aye. But the rage still runs in me veins. There’s nights I wake and feel it, feel his ghost in me bones, whisperin’ what kind of man I truly am.”
He clenched his jaw. “If I let meself go near her, I’ll hurt her. I ken it.”
Mabel took a step forward, her tone firm.
“Ye willnae. Ye’ve more control than any man I’ve met. A monster would nae have taken in those bairns.”
He shook his head, voice cracking with bitterness. “And what if ye’re wrong, Mabel? What if she falls with child? I’ve been tryin’ to keep me distance, but I feel meself losin’ control whenever she’s near. What if that rage passes to me heir? I cannae curse another generation with our blood.”
Mabel’s gaze softened though her chin lifted in quiet defiance. “Declan, ye speak as though our blood is poison. But have ye forgotten me and Tristan?”
Declan froze, his name falling from her lips like a stone into water.
“Tristan…” he muttered, looking down at the firelight flickering against his boots. “Aye, he was the best of us. But he’s gone. He was spared from the darkness we were born,” Declan said.
Mabel shook her head fiercely. “Nay, braither . He was nae spared; he fought it same as ye. And if he could love, if he could raise those wee lasses with gentleness, then so can ye.”
Her words struck him like a hammer blow. He looked at her, eyes flickering with something between guilt and disbelief.
“And what if I fail them? What if I fail Isabelle?” he said hoarsely. “The bairn… if she bears one… I’ll see me faither’s eyes lookin’ back at me, and I daenae ken what I might do.”
Mabel stepped closer, her voice quiet but sure. “Then ye’ll do what ye’ve always done; ye’ll fight it. Ye’ve spent yer whole life defyin’ that man’s legacy. D’ye really think God would curse ye now with the same cruelty?”
Declan’s throat tightened, his eyes falling shut for a moment. “I dinnae ken if God even listens to the likes of me,” he said softly.
Mabel reached out and gripped his arm firmly, forcing him to meet her gaze. “Then listen to me. God will see fit to bless ye and Isabelle with a good family. Ye’ve already proved yer worth by takin’ in Tristan’s girls. Do ye nae see? Ye’ve broken the curse if there ever was one.”
He stared at her, the weight of her words settling heavy in the air between them.
“I want to believe that, Mabel,” he whispered finally. “Truly, I do. But sometimes I fear the darkness runs too deep.”
Mabel sighed, her voice softening. “It only runs deep if ye feed it, Declan. And ye haven’t.
Ye’ve built a home; ye’ve given those girls laughter again.
Ye’ve found a woman who cares for ye, stubborn though she may be.
” Her lips quirked faintly. “If that is darkness, then may the rest of us live in shadow too.”
Declan let out a low breath, his shoulders sagging as he sank into the nearest chair. He pressed his palms to his face, voice muffled.
“Ye always did have a way of makin’ sense when I least wanted to hear it.”
Mabel smiled softly, touching his shoulder. “Someone has to. Now stop broodin’, Declan. Go to yer wife. The longer ye hide from her, the more she’ll believe the foolish things ye tell yerself.”
He lowered his hands, meeting her steady gaze.
“Aye,” he said finally, his voice rough with emotion. “Maybe ye’re right.”
Mabel smirked. “Of course, I am,” she said. “Now, go before Isabelle storms in here and proves it for me.”
Declan stood stiffly, shoulders hunched as Mabel crossed herself and murmured a quiet blessing.
“May the Lord guide yer heart, Declan, and grant ye courage to love without fear,” she whispered, her hand lingering for a moment on his shoulder.
Declan closed his eyes, letting the weight of her words sink deep into his chest.
“Aye, Mabel… I think I’ve been a fool,” he admitted, voice low and rough.
He ran a hand through his hair, looking out the window at the frost-kissed courtyard.
“I’ve spent days broodin’, fearin’ meself, thinkin’ of the monster,” he said, turning to her, eyes shining with something close to desperation. “I love Isabelle… I want her near me. I want heirs with her, and I want to raise the triplets alongside her. I’ve been a blind fool, aye.”
Mabel’s eyes softened, and she stepped closer, placing a firm hand on his arm.
“Ye’ve nae been blind, Declan… only afraid,” she said gently. “But the Lord sees hearts, not fears. And yer heart… it’s full of love, more than ye ken.”
Declan exhaled shakily, feeling a stirring of hope in his chest that he hadn’t dared to feel in years.
She stepped forward, wrapping him in a firm embrace, murmuring words of comfort.
“I saw Isabelle wandering the castle,” Mabel said, her tone quiet. “Go find her and tell her how ye feel.”
Declan stiffened slightly, but a small, almost reluctant smile tugged at his lips, and he felt a newfound resolve ignite in his chest.
He left his study to look for Isabelle. He stepped into the nursery.
The triplets, Penelope, Beth, and Hallie, spotted him at once, squealing with delight as they ran into his arms.
“Da!” they shouted in unison, their little arms wrapping tightly around him. Declan laughed, feeling warmth, lifting them gently as they squirmed with excitement.
“Look, Da! We’ve made it all pretty for Yule!” Penelope exclaimed, pointing to the ribbons and holly wreaths strung about the room.
Beth tugged at his sleeve, holding up a garland she’d twisted herself.
“See? And we put the candles over there, and Bren helped too!” Hallie added, her cheeks flushed with pride.
Declan smiled widely, his eyes softening as he took in the bright, festive chaos that filled the nursery.
The triplets looked up at him with wide eyes, a sudden question forming on their lips.
“Da… where’s Lady Isabelle? Have ye seen her?” Penelope asked hesitantly, tilting her head.
Declan felt a pang in his chest, the ache of their longing echoing his own.
“I came to the nursery lookin’ for her,” he said gently, lowering them to the floor.”
Bren stepped forward, nodding respectfully. “She’s nae been here this mornin’, me Laird ,” she said quietly.
Declan’s jaw tightened, a rush of determination settling over him. “Then it’s high time I went to find her meself,” he muttered under his breath, his gaze sweeping the cheerful room.
Penelope hesitated, then spoke again, her voice small and hopeful.
“Da… can we… can we call Lady Isabelle our maither ? We dinnae ken if it’s alright with ye.”
Declan felt his heart drop to his stomach, a joy spreading through him that made him catch his breath.
“Aye, ye can, lass. I’d like that very much,” he said softly, kneeling to meet their eager faces. “And Lady Isabelle would be glad as well, I’m sure.”
Beth clapped her hands in delight while Hallie’s eyes sparkled with excitement.
“Can we really, Da?” she asked, bouncing slightly on her feet.
“Aye, ye really can,” Declan assured them, a rare, tender smile lighting his face. “Ye’ll have her love just as much as she has yers.”
The triplets hugged each other in a circle, chattering excitedly about the idea of calling Isabelle their mother.
Declan watched them, feeling a swell of pride and longing at the thought of their new bond forming.
“Now,” he said, standing and brushing imaginary dust from his tunic, “I’m going to find Lady Isabelle, and when I do… we’ll all dine together, as a family.”
The girls squealed in unison, their cheers filling the nursery with such joy, it made Declan’s chest ache.
Penelope grabbed his hand and spun around, still giggling, while Beth and Hallie danced about in celebration.
“We’ll be a family, Da! We’ll be a real family!” Penelope cried.
Declan’s eyes softened, his heart full, as he promised himself silently that he would never let a day pass where they didn’t feel the warmth and love of their home.
He straightened, looking down at the three beaming faces before him.
“Now, I’ve work to do, wee bairns,” he said, his voice gentle but commanding. “Ye best keep this nursery safe and ready for Yule; no sneaky mischief while I’m gone, mind ye!”
The girls giggled, bouncing and nodding solemnly, promising to be on their best behavior.
Declan paused at the nursery door, taking one last look at the festive scene, his heart aching to see Isabelle’s absence.
“Ye stay right here,” he said softly, more to himself than to anyone else. “I’ll find her, and we’ll make this a Yule to remember… all together.”
With that, he strode from the nursery, determination in every step, ready to find Isabelle and mend what had been broken between them.
He called out to Isabelle as he entered the bedchambers.
“Isabelle?” he shouted, voice echoing off the stone walls, but there was no answer.
He hurried to the solar, checking every corner, yet she was nowhere to be found. Frustration knotted in his chest.
Without hesitation, Declan strode to the Stone Hearth room to fetch his cloak, the weight of urgency heavy on his shoulders.
As he fastened it around him, he paused in reflection, heart tightening with realization.
Isabelle was his true wife, his equal in fire and spirit, and he had been a bampot, letting pride and stubbornness blind him.
He darted into the kitchens, where the scent of baking bread and herbs lingered.
“Vera!” he called, his voice both urgent and strained. The cook looked up from her pots, wiping her hands on her apron.
“Vera, have ye seen Lady Isabelle?” he asked, brows furrowed.
“Indeed, me Laird ,” Vera replied softly, setting aside a ladle. “She took herself for a walk toward the loch.”
Declan’s jaw tightened as he ran a hand over his face, eyes narrowing. “The winds are fierce today,” he muttered, a note of worry creeping into his voice, “too strong for a walk, even for a McCallum lass.”
Without another word, he turned on his heel and bolted from the kitchens, cloak flapping behind him. His mind raced with both fear and resolve; he would not let stubborn pride keep him from Isabelle any longer.
The wind cut across the open ground, tugging at his cloak and whipping his hair across his face.
The fear of losing her mingled with a rush of longing, and his heart pounded in his chest.
“Hold fast, Isabelle,” he murmured, “I’m coming to ye, and I’ll nae let ye walk alone this day.”