Phoebe realized Lucia was still talking while she’d been woolgathering. “… Peter and I will be leaving Scotland later this week. He completed discussions on his last arms contract with the Sutherlands yesterday, and my family is eager to have us back in Birmingham. But I will return soon to help with Breena’s wedding.”
“Oh. I’m going to miss you terribly while you’re gone. Do hurry back,” Phoebe said, her chest squeezing. Phoebe hugged Lucia. Lucia had been such a comforting constant in her life these past few months, and she was just now realizing how much she had relied on her presence.
After Lucia and Breena left, Breena promising to return in a few days to check up on Phoebe, Phoebe slumped down at the writing desk and attempted to read a David Hume volume. But when she realized she’d been reading the same page over and over, images of Slade popping into her head, instead of the words on the page, she put the book down and decided to complete her correspondence instead.
The sun had slipped behind the western horizon by supper time. Aila came to inform Phoebe they were serving the eventide meal in the great hall. Phoebe was in no mood to take part in polite conversation with her in-laws, but she supposed it would be rude if she continued to be a hermit in her bedchamber.
Phoebe dressed for dinner then left her bedchamber. She had just stepped down from the stairs and turned the corner towards the great hall, when the familiar silhouette of a man came into view. Phoebe’s heart surged and she ran, launching herself into Slade’s arms, her legs wrapping around his body like a monkey’s.
He caught her and held her close to his chest in an iron grip. He took her weight like it was nothing. Her heart beat so fast it threatened to escape her body. She swore it hadn’t beaten so since he left. Its erratic rhythm closely mirroring the thumps of his own heart against her chest. The familiar scent of cloves and male spice enveloped her senses as she burrowed deeper into him, wanting to consume him as he consumed her. His arms were warm and steady. He’d brought the sun, and the spring with him. She felt it in her bones.
Seconds, perhaps minutes, ticked by as she tightly held him, rubbing her cheeks against his shoulders and neck, feeling him, inhaling him, over and over, reassuring herself he was here, not wanting to let go in case she was still in her bedchamber, asleep and dreaming.
“You came back,mo ghaol—my love,” she said, her voice a breathless and disbelieving whisper.
His hands held her derriere while his lips kissed her brow, forehead, and temple. The sound of his deep inhales of her hair warmed her.
“Sweetest love, how are you faring, how is your leg?” Slade asked. His deep, silky voice sending waves of delicious energy rippling down her body.
“It’s perfectly well. All healed,” she said, her voice low. Everything was perfect now that he was here.
And her heart broke and mended itself back a million times over the instant he whispered. “I couldn’t exist another miserable day without you.”
CHAPTER 70
Phoebe was stunned at the genuine outpouring of warmth from Lachlan, Tara, and Chisolm at Slade’s return. Little Sadie, Tara and Lachlan’s daughter, erupted in innocent giggles over Slade’s kisses to her ruddy cheeks after he picked her up and twirled her around to greet her. Phoebe hadn’t missed the fact that when Chisolm hugged Slade, Slade leaned into his father’s embrace just a little more than necessary, affection tightening Slade’s handsome features. It was the most beautiful and poignant moment she’d seen among the MacLeans. And when Lachlan gave Slade a hearty slap back hug, it brought a happy tear to Phoebe’s eyes as her throat practically closed up with emotion. The MacLean men were slowly bridging the coldness between them stemming from the death of Slade’s mother all those years ago.
Later, Phoebe was acutely aware of the heat from Slade’s gaze as they walked side by side up the stairs together to the fourth floor of the north wing, and their marriage bedchamber. Every time his eyes fell on her lips, she found herself moistening them with her tongue.
After he closed the door behind her, she turned around to face him, her heart squeezing with panic and her lungs bursting with words that had to be said.
“I will give up the Movement. I don’t want to lose you because of my work. I couldn’t bear it if you left.”
Her eyes frantically searched his handsome features for an answer before he spoke.
Slade’s brows crinkled in puzzlement.
“Why would I leave?” he whispered.
“You were gone so long, I thought perhaps you were displeased with me for working for the Movement, and then I thought perhaps …” Phoebe started to say.
“If I could have returned earlier, I would have.”
“You weren’t disappointed…angry?” she asked.
“Yes, at the dilemma we find ourselves in, but not at you. Never you.”
Relief washed over her, taking away an immense painful heaviness from her belly. Phoebe let his familiar scent envelop her when he came to her and took her in a crushing embrace. She never wanted to let him go. His arms were a protective cocoon, making her safer than she’d ever been before. She would have happily stayed there forever but he slackened his hold, while he placed his forehead against hers, lightly brushing the tip of his nose against the tip of hers and gently tucking errant strands of her hair behind her ear.
“I love you, Phoebe. And the last thing I want you to do is give up your mission with the Movement. I know how important it is to you. It’s been important to you since I met you all those years ago. The very first time I saw you, you were reciting the knight’s oath. A remarkable thing for such a wee lass. It’s ingrained in you, a part of you, your need to fight oppression and control. And as one who loves you, I have to let you do as you must. My only request is that you let me escort you for safety, and when Iam unable to, you take three or more MacLean escorts with you,” he said.
Phoebe blinked, stunned into lightheadedness. She was speechless, her muscles frozen for a second. He understood her, like no one else ever had. She recalled the escorts Falcon had sent for her that day at Hortons. The MacLean escorts would have to be cleared by the Movement, but it would work, not only to lessen Slade’s worry but to increase her safety.
“How could I have been so lucky that you chose me for a wife. It’s a miracle. You are my miracle,” Phoebe said, her tone soft and disbelieving.
“And you are the most welcomed surprise of my entire life. My dearest little friend who grew up to be my dearest love. I will do anything to make you happy and keep you safe. I would kill every last redcoat, if you asked me to. But you are also my savior, Phoebe. A chance to make amends for my past sins. And I’ll thank all the saints for you each and every day for the rest of my life,” he said.
A strange sensation tightened Phoebe’s chest. Hot and cold swirled in her belly. She pulled her forehead away from his and gently palmed his cheeks, focusing on the darkness in his eyes. What she saw there not only took her breath away, it broke her heart. It was the lovely ghost that had been haunting them for a decade.
