Her face turned an adorable shade of pink at his words, and her big eyes, so blue that they seemed to be violet, gazed sadly into his. “He has no’ spoken such words to me.”
“No, but his actions show that you mean the world to him. Did you know that after he arrived at Fort Pitt, my son wrote out his will and testament, claiming you and Isabelle as his wife and daughter and naming Isabelle his heir?”
The genuine astonishment on her face proved she had not known. “Wh-what? Why would he do so haggis-headed a thing as that?”
Jamie chuckled, and Alec could tell his brother-by-marriage was likewise charmed by this beautiful young woman. “It seems pretty clear, doesn’t it? He wanted to make certain you were well cared for if he should die in battle.”
“But Isabelle is no’ of his blood!”
Alec valued her honesty. Another woman might not hesitate to lie about her child’s parentage when a fortune was at stake. “I suspect that when you provide him with a son, Nicholas will rewrite his will, taking care to make certain Isabelle is well supported.”
The color rose in her cheeks again. “But we’re no’ really married!”
“You will be. Soon.” Alec shared a smile with Jamie, could almost read his brother-in-law’s thoughts.
The Kenleigh-Blakewell clan was going to cherish Elspeth and her baby girl.
***
Nicholas took the stairs two at a time, packages tucked beneath his arm, eager to see Bethie again, to set things straight. She was his wife in all ways but one. She might well be carrying his child. It was time they married in the church—till death do us part and all that.
He’d been to the goldsmith’s, purchased a ring for her, a simple gold band. It would do until he had time to find something worthy of her—a polished sapphire surrounded by diamonds or perhaps a ruby. He’d persuaded the nearest Anglican priest to marry them on Saturday—a mere three days hence. Now all he had to do was persuade the bride that wedding a well-to-do Englishman would not be a mistake.
He understood her concern. Having grown up among the landedélite, he knew how people gossiped, particularly jealous women. Some would look down their noses at Bethie because of her humble birth. Still others would disregard her because of her Scottish blood and manner of speech. Others would despise her for her youth and beauty. But Jamie and Bríghid had faced down even more formidable obstacles and were happy together. Why could he and Bethie not do the same?
He strode down the hallway, knocked lightly on the door so as not to startle her, opened it—and felt as if he’d been kicked in the stomach.
In chairs on either side of Bethie sat his father and Jamie. Both looked almost as he remembered them, though his father had more silver in his hair, and his eyes held more worry.
Nicholas stared at them in disbelief, found he could not speak. A part of him cried out that he was not ready for this, that he needed more time.
But then his father stood, strode toward him, embraced him in a crushing bear hug, and Nicholas knew he had waited far, far too long.
“Nicholas!” His father’s voice was rough with emotion. “My God, Nicholas!”
Nicholas dropped his packages, answered his father’s embrace with his own fierce hug, held the man he’d never thought he’d see again, the man he’d thought had surely disowned him by now. There were no words, no room for anything but feelings.
After a moment—Nicholas had lost all sense of time—his father held him out at arm’s length, looked him up and down. “Apart from your desperate need for a barber, you don’t look bad for six years in the wilderness. My God, I’m glad to see you alive, son!”
“I say he looks like hell!” Jamie muscled his way in, embraced Nicholas, slapped him hard on the back.
“Is that so, Jamie, old boy? Bethie finds me ‘dashy-lookin’. She said so herself.” He met Bethie’s gaze, saw the sweet smile on her face, the glitter of tears in her eyes.
Jamie cuffed him lightly on the chin, grinned. “Love is blind, as they say.”
Nicholas looked from the man he thought of as a brother to his father. “There is so much I would ask you, so much I would know.”
His father nodded, turned to Jamie. “Would you mind keeping my beautiful daughter-in-law company while I speak privately with my son?”
Jamie met Nicholas’s gaze, and a slow smile spread across his face. Then he turned to Bethie, lifted her hand to his lips. “It would be my great pleasure.”
Nicholas didn’t like that one bit. “Watch yourself!”
Jamie gazed at him, a feigned look of innocence on his face. “I’m a happily married man, the father of five.” Then his expression sobered. “I’ve got five children, Nicholas. Five. Three of them you’ve never even met.”
Nicholas nodded, felt the first edge of what he’d done to himself—what he’d done to his family—press in against him. He shifted his gaze to Bethie. “I’ll be back soon, love. Jamie, do try to be charming—but not too charming.”
***
