The twinge of relief disappeared when she recalled her own circumstances. “You better than anyone should know that is not a prerequisite.”
His eyes darkened dangerously. “Just exactly what are you accusing me of?”
She shrugged. “I wonder how many black-haired, blue-eyed bairns are strewn across the continent?”
She’d pushed too far. He grabbed her by the arm and brought her toward him. She gasped, the barely restrained fury in his eyes made her heart race.
“Do you really think I’d consign a child to my burden?”
He had.She bit the words back and said instead, “Unmarried parents don’t make you a bastard. Your actions do.”
She saw the muscle in his neck tic and knew her barb had struck.
His mouth tightened. “I would never allow a child of mine to go unclaimed.”
Her blood chilled, his words giving voice to her fears. He could never find out about Dougal. Duncan’s birth had always been his Achilles tendon and he would not be rational about it. He would see her lie for what it was and his blasted nobility would never allow him to stand aside.
All she wanted was an explanation and then his swift departure. Gathering up the tattered remnants of her emotions, she pulled herself together. How did he manage to get to her like this? Couldn’t they simply have a rational conversation? Must there always be this strong undercurrent crackling between them, this fierce awareness that made her feel like that foolish, impetuous girl again ready to believe in white knights and faerie tales. She was an adult now, a mother. She should know better.
She returned to the original subject. “Ella has been a trifle headstrong of late, I will make sure she doesn’t bother you again.”
He seemed about to object, but then appeared to reach the same conclusion as she had—better not to encourage an acquaintance.
But he wasn’t quite done yet. “You have a son as well?”
She tensed, but quickly masked the visceral reaction to the danger posed by his question. She spoke carefully, feeling as if each word somehow held the potential to explode. “Yes, he is being fostered.” She didn’t want to tell him anything, but knew it would be better to be as honest as possible. He would sense any caginess on her part.
His reaction moments ago only solidified what she already knew. He would insist on claiming his son, even if it meant labeling him a bastard and destroying everything she’d done to protect her son from the scandal Duncan had left in his wake. She couldn’t risk it—not when it was her son who would suffer. Duncan had lost any claim on Dougall when he’d left her.
She felt his eyes on her, watching intently.
“How old is he,” he asked, “your son?”
She met his gaze, her expression betraying none of the raging panic inside her. She had gone to a great deal of trouble to protect her secret, she could not allow him to suspect anything.
The Battle of Glenlivet had turned out to be her salvation. The Gordons had been forced into exile. Francis hadn’t gone with his father to the continent, but they’d removed to a remote castle up north with only a few trusted servants. They hadn’t returned for almost two years and by then Dougall’s true age was easy to hide. Moreover, there was no reason anyone should question his age. Only one person could do that.
“He just turned nine.” She phrased her next words for maximum impact. “He was born over a year after Francis and I were wed.”
She thought something in his gaze might have flickered at the mention of her marriage.
“Where is he being fostered?”
Even though every instinct in her body urged her to say nothing more, she forced herself to appear as if she had nothing to hide. “Dougall is at Castleswene with your brother.”
“With Jamie?” He didn’t hide his surprise.
It was one more reason she had to be grateful to her husband. Dougall would never know that he was being fostered by his uncle, but Francis had found a way for him to be tied to his kin. “The battle of Glenlivet was a long time ago, Duncan. Old feuds have mended.”
“My cousin hasn’t forgotten,” Duncan pointed out.
“Perhaps not, but there is no reason for Argyll to renew old hostilities.”
His gaze hardened. “You mean unless I make him remember.”
“Yes.”
“Why does this matter so much to you? Your father and husband are both dead, not even my cousin can reach them where they are.”
