She curled up next to him. “This was obviously before you met my family.”
He placed an arm around her shoulders. “The discovery of my father’s other family made me even angrier at his infidelity. Not only had he hurt his wife, he denied me a brother.
“My half brother refused to approach me or accept anything but the occasional gift. I don’t suppose he had an easy time of it growing up as the laird’s by-blow.” His face stiffened and his eyes glittered with unshed tears in the firelight. “I’ll never get a chance to ask him about that now.”
Diantha reached for his hand. He gripped it tightly and pulled her closer. After a moment she let go and hugged her knees with her arms. “His son is still your nephew. You could sponsor the boy’s schooling.” Her voice trembled. “If something happens to Barclay, he may be your only heir, since I can’t seem to conceive.”
Kieran pulled her down on the pallet and stretched out beside her, leaning on an elbow. She echoed his position, facing him. “That bothers you a great deal?”
“One of my few consolations during our engagement was that I would at least be able to have a child of my own to love.” She rested her hand on his hip. “I didn’t think I would come to—” She caughtherself before ‘love’ escaped her lips. “To care for you as I have.
“I want to have your child, Kieran.” She couldn’t see his face in the shadows, which gave her the courage to continue. “Not because it’s my duty, but because I’ve thought about being a mother since I was small.” She rolled onto her back. “I wouldn’t be like mine. I’d want my children to feel loved for who they are every single day of their lives.” She spoke the last words vehemently.
He gathered her close. “If we’re blessed with children, I will be thrilled. You would make an excellent mother, I’m sure of it.” He grazed her temple with a kiss.
“The difficulty might lie with the Rossburns. My grandfather only had two children, and so did my father.”
“One of life’s mysteries.” Diantha shivered as Kieran’s mouth possessed hers.
Against her lips, he murmured, “Indeed. And speaking of life’s mysteries, I need you in ways that have nothing to do with getting an heir.”
As her body responded to his husky whisper, she allowed herself a tiny bit of hope. Need wasn’t love, but it wasn’t indifference either. She wrapped her arms around her husband. “Perhaps you should elaborate on your needs.”
They left Cariford after two more days. Kieran had overseen the removal of most of the wreckage by then, and the villagers themselves reached the grim consensus that the sea had washed all the bodies ashore that it would.
They returned a week later for the memorial service honoring all those lost. Iona and Barclay came with them. Kieran’s aunt proved predictably unimpressed with the rapport that Diantha had developed with the survivors.
“It is not necessary to enter into their every feeling.” She declared this after watching Diantha speak with a number of villagers and their children. The older woman stood waiting by the landau which was ready to carry them back to the house.
At tea that afternoon, a tremendous quarrel broke out between Kieran and Barclay.
Kieran wanted to attract fishermen from other villages by offering a share of each vessel’s profits, with the chance to take over ownership of the new boats.
Barclay considered that too complicated. He paced the rug in front of the drawing room fireplace. “Why not just tear down some of the poorer crofts and send the families to the village? You’re the landlord. Act like it for once.”
She and Iona listened to the increasingly acrimonious argument for several minutes, until Barclay flung himself out of the room in a rage.
After he left, Kieran’s aunt had addressed him sharply. “Why must you be so excessively rude to Barclay?” She shot a triumphant glance at Diantha’s slim waist. “He is still your heir, you know.”
Kieran drew himself to his full height. “Then perhaps he should remember that he inherits responsibilities to others, Aunt.”
* **
Kieran decided to return to the village a few days later so that he could propose his plan to the survivors. The night before he left, he assured Diantha that he would be back by dinner the following evening.
Barclay went with him despite their earlier disagreement, much to her husband’s pleasure. He thanked his cousin repeatedly for lending him his support.
That afternoon, Barclay returned alone with a message from Kieran that he had been delayed and needed to oversee a few more things in Cariford. “I will be more than happy to carry any messages you might have for my cousin.”
Diantha, remembering the lies the soft-spoken man had told about Kieran before, declined to take advantage of his offer.
After hearing nothing from Kieran for three days except vague messages via his cousin, Diantha took matters into her own hands. She wrote her husband a short letter, telling him that she and his mother both missed him, and asking if she had done something to anger him.
Sealing it in an envelope and writing his name on it, she left her room to go downstairs in search of a messenger. She did not trust Barclay to deliver it to his cousin. Perhaps Archie or Billy Green would oblige her. Not wanting to be spotted by either Iona or Barclay, she walked down a narrow hall just beyond the main staircase. It led to the kitchen and stable yard doors, and would hide her from her husband’s relatives.
Or so she thought. When she noticed the estateoffice door sat slightly ajar, she started to tiptoe past. Mr. Johnstone, the bailiff, might not have any reason to comment on her presence in this part of the house to Barclay, but she did not want to take any chances.
“I dinna want to murder the man.” She did not recognize the voice, but the words stopped her in her tracks.
