‘We?’
She took his hand and laid it on her stomach. ‘I have your bairn in my belly. By year’s end, you will be a father.’
She searched his face for joy, but Cullen just stared down at her belly for the longest time, a frown creasing his brow. ‘Forgive me,’ he said.
‘For what?’
‘For letting my father win.’
Lowri backed away from him. ‘Is that all you can say?’
Cullen took her in a fierce embrace and kissed her hard. ‘I am honoured and thrilled that you carry my bairn. You know, I love you, lass, more than life. But I wanted you to be willing, not forced into it.’
‘I wasn’t.’
‘There is no one for me in this life but you. Can’t you see? I didn’t want my father to win, to make us his slaves, just things to be used to suit his own ends. I am happy about the bairn, truly, but it cannot live life under the shadow of my family’s infamy, cruelty and greed.’
‘Then let us return to Kildara and live our lives free and happy. You need never go back to Scarcross or see any of them again.’
‘There is no turning back. Now that I have an heir on the way, there is more reason than ever to kill Allard. If he kills me, he will not stop there. He will come after my family, so that he is unchallenged for the lairdship of Clan Macaulay.’
Lowri took a step back from him. ‘I thought you would be happy about the bairn, but you seem angry, as if it is an encumbrance.’
‘I am happy about the bairn, but I will set thoughts of it aside until I have my vengeance and both of you are safe.’
Lowri fought back tears. By telling Cullen, she’d only succeeded in throwing more wood on a raging fire. How much time did she have left with him? The Macaulays were vicious, conniving villains, and they would bring him down like a pack of wolves, tear his flesh, and rend his bones. How could she live with herself if she let him deal with them alone?
‘Whatever you have to do, I am with you,’ said Lowri.
‘No. You will not be coming with me to Scarcross,’ said Cullen. ‘I am taking you to your brother for safekeeping, even if Peyton does slaughter me on sight.’
There was every chance he would.
***
From his vantage point atop a hill, Cullen stared down at the stern-walled tower house that was Fellscarp, home of the Strachans, a clan that his father had always described as vermin. Knee-deep water lapped at the causeway leading to its gates, and behind the house, the wind raised white flurries over the grey-green estuary surrounding it, stretching back to the sea. There was no cover near its walls, and only one path back in retreat. If he were to bang on those gates, he would have to rely on Lowri for safe passage in and out. Fellscarp was a grim, damp place, but Cullen had to own that it looked more welcoming than Scarcross ever had. What a terrible fate Lowri had suffered, being forced to marry him and take on his poisonous heritage.
‘The tide has almost receded. We can ride over soon,’ Lowri said brightly, but he could tell her joy was mingled with trepidation.
‘Will Peyton accept your mongrel of a husband?’ he asked.
‘I don’t care if he doesn’t, because I love my mongrel.’ She reached out a hand to squeeze his. ‘But I am eager to see him.’
‘Yet you look worried, my love.’
Lowri swallowed hard. Every word she had ever spoken of Peyton suggested a great love between brother and sister. Yet the lass seemed unsure of her welcome. That was because of him. She was tainted by her association with a Macaulay. Cullen hidhis concern. ‘All will be well. Soon, you will be safe within those walls. You can sleep easily for the first time in months.’
She gave him a rueful smile. ‘I have not resented my lack of sleep these last weeks. On the contrary. There are better things to do than sleep.’
‘Glad to hear it,’ he said. ‘Now let us enter the lion’s den.’
Lowri’s smile faded as she kicked her horse forward, and soon, they were at the gates.
‘Who goes there!’ snarled a burly man, glaring at them.
‘Tis me, Selby, you fool. Open up,’ shouted Lowri.
Recognition spread on his face. ‘Lowri Strachan, as I live and breathe. I thought you were lost to us.’
