“A fortnight. I need to settle some affairs here first, make sure Duncan is ready to step into me role.” Fraser turned back to face them. “I’m sorry. I ken this is poor timing with everythin’ settled so nicely.”
“Daenae apologize for family duty.” Declan crossed to his cousin, gripping his shoulder. “Ye’ve been more than a second to me. Ye’ve been a brother. If ye need to go, then ye go with me blessing and me gratitude.”
“Will we ever see ye again?” Eloise’s small voice cut through the moment. She’d abandoned her writing and now stood near Fraser, her eyes suspiciously bright. “Will ye forget about us?”
“Never, wee one.” Fraser crouched down to her level. “I could never forget ye or yer ma or yer da. Ye’re family. And family doesnae forget each other, nae matter the distance.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.” He ruffled her hair gently. “And ye’ll have to visit. Someone needs to keep me in line when I’m laird, and I think ye’d be perfect for the job.”
Despite the sadness of the moment, Eloise giggled.
The days that followed were bittersweet. Fraser went about his duties with his usual efficiency, but there was an underlying melancholy to everything. Declan spent long hours with his cousin, going over clan business and sharing memories of their years together.
The night before Fraser was set to leave, they held a small gathering in the great hall. Nothing formal—just family and close friends, sharing food and drink and stories.
“Remember when Declan fell in the loch tryin’ to impress that lass from Clan MacLeod?” Fraser was saying, his eyes bright with whisky and laughter.
“I didnae fall, I was pushed,” Declan protested.
“By who? The wind?” Fraser grinned. “Ye were showin’ off, tryin’ to walk across that narrow log, and ye went straight into the water.”
“And ye jumped in after me, even though I didnae need savin’.”
“Aye, well. Isnae that what I am here for? ”
The word hung in the air. Eloise, who’d been allowed to stay up late for the occasion, climbed into Fraser’s lap.
“Will ye write to us?” she asked. “Tell us about Clan McArthur?”
“Every month,” Fraser promised. “And ye’ll have to write back, tell me about all yer adventures. How Bluebell’s babies are growin’. What new tricks yer da teaches ye.”
“I will. I promise.”
Later, after Eloise had been carried to bed by Betsy, the adults sat around the fire. Francesca found herself studying the three men—Declan, Fraser, and Duncan—thinking about how much had changed in such a short time.
“Ye ken,” Fraser said, his voice soft, “when ye first arrived, Lady Francesca, I thought Declan was makin’ a terrible mistake. A marriage of convenience to an English woman with a bastard child?” He shook his head. “I thought it would end in disaster.”
“Fraser—” Declan started.
“Let me finish.” Fraser looked at Francesca directly. “I was wrong. So verra wrong. Ye’ve been exactly what he needed. What this clan needed. Ye’ve brought warmth back to these halls, made Declan remember how to live instead of just survive. Ye’ve given him a family.” He raised his cup. “So thank ye, Me Lady. For savin’ me cousin when I couldnae.”
Francesca’s eyes filled with tears. “You’re a good man, Fraser McArthur. Your clan is lucky to have you.”
“Here, here,” Duncan added, raising his own cup.
They drank in silence, the fire crackling, the weight of tomorrow’s goodbye pressing down on all of them.
The next morning dawned grey and cold, fitting for a farewell. They gathered in the courtyard as Fraser’s horse was prepared. His belongings were already packed, strapped to a second horse that would carry his supplies.
Eloise clung to his legs, crying openly. “I daenae want ye to go!”
“I ken, wee one.” Fraser picked her up, holding her close. “But remember what I said. This isnae goodbye forever. Just… goodbye for now.”
“Ye’ll come back?”
“Aye, I’ll come back to visit. And ye’ll come see me in McArthur lands.” He set her down gently, turning to Francesca. “Take care of him, Me Lady. Daenae let him get too serious again.”
