Whence Came a Prince (34 page)

Jamie gave Walloch the signal and the horse took off for the front gate, the dogs in keen pursuit. A handful of men in the fields started running toward him, their faces full of alarm. Jamie lifted his hand in passing, then tore through the gates, bound for Haugh of Urr. The pounding of Walloch’s hooves and the barking of the dogs ruled out any practicing of speeches. Just as well; he would know what to say when he saw his uncle.

“Liar!” Jamie shouted the word into the wind, reveling at the sound of it. “Thief!”

The mote of Urr was coming into view when he spied a small party galloping toward him at a fair pace. Three men on chestnut horses. His gut twisted into a knot. The Douglas brothers were not simply heading for home. They were heading for him.

His sword was at Auchengray, his pistol useless. But he had his dirk, and the blade was well sharpened. Jamie stopped, waiting for them, squaring his shoulders. “Down,” he commanded the dogs. They ceased their barking at once.

“McKie.” Malcolm reached him first, pulling his horse round as he eyed the collies. “I see you’ve been to Edingham.” Gavin and Ronald closed ranks on either side of him, blocking Jamie’s path.

Jamie pinned his gaze on the oldest brother. “I have indeed been to Edingham. To inspect my lambs and reclaim my dogs.”

“Your lambs? Your dogs?” Malcolm scoffed. “Both are Auchengray property. Which means, until noon today they belonged solely to your uncle. Now those animals also belong to me. His heir.”

Jamie gripped the reins with his left hand, his right hand resting on his knee, inches from the dirk planted in his boot. “My uncle and I had an agreement. The lambs were to be mine.” He glanced toward the road to the kirk. “If you will permit me to pass, I shall speak with him at once and see this situation rectified.”

Malcolm did not move. Nor did his brothers. “Your uncle and our mother departed for Moffat in the carriage some time ago.”

“Then Duncan—”

“Is gone as well,” Malcolm said, “with your wife and housekeeper.”

Duncan. Gone.
Jamie tried to swallow and realized he had no moisture left in his mouth, only dust from the road. And the faint taste of fear.

Ronald, the youngest, jabbed at him with sharp words. “You are the reason they left in haste. You ruined our mother’s bridal dinner.”

Jamie rallied at the charge. “And you, gentlemen, stole my lambs.”

“We did not steal them,” Gavin argued. “We moved them. At your uncle’s request.”

Jamie snorted. “If ’twas so noble a deed, why did you spirit them away like thieves in the night?”

“Thieves, you say?” Malcolm’s gaze was even. “ ’Tis a subject you ken a great deal about. Did you not steal your own brother’s inheritance? With a property like Glentrool, you hardly need Auchengray.”
Malcolm pretended to look behind Jamie. “I notice Evan is not here to stand with you. Only one McKie.” He exchanged glances with his brothers. “And three McBrides.”

One McKie.
Jamie had never felt so alone, so outnumbered, in all his life. Though his dirk was near, he could never hope to wound the three of them and simply ride away. Nor would his wife and children be kept warm and fed if he died defending his honor.

Honor?
He had none. He was a liar and thief. Like his uncle.

Defeated without a fight, Jamie moved both hands to his reins, looking to the road. “We will settle this another time, gentlemen.”

“Indeed we shall.” When Malcolm laughed, so did his brothers. “Suppose you head for home in our direction. Past Edingham. I’ll not have you chasing after our mother’s carriage, lest you ruin her bridal week as well.”

Gavin eased back, giving Jamie room to aim Walloch south. “We’ll be right behind you, Cousin. If you need anything.”

Their derisive laughter hounded Jamie as he started back downhill. He would have to wait a full week to confront Lachlan.
A week!
Even with Duncan’s help, he could not hope to spirit away the lambs in the night as the Douglases had done. At Auchengray, the lambs had grazed in a pasture near the road, far from the mains; at Edingham, they were near the mains and far from the road. And he had nothing in writing, nothing to prove the lambs were his.

God help me, what is to be done?

Loosening his grip on the reins, Jamie gave Walloch his head, throwing dust in the Douglases’ faces as he rode hard toward home.

L
eana heard Jamie before she saw him.

Pounding up the drive leading to Auchengray’s door, he shouted the orraman’s name so loudly that the sound penetrated the walls of the house. “Willie!
Willie!
”

The urgency in Jamie’s voice made her heart skip. Had something happened at the wedding? Might Rose have taken ill? Leana had planned to tell Jamie and Rose about her child the moment they returned home. But if tragedy had befallen them…

Please God, not Rose.
Abandoning her needlework, Leana ran through the entrance hall and out the front door, then lifted her skirts as she hurried across the lawn. Willie was already leading Walloch toward the stables, two collies at his heels, their tongues lolling. The gelding’s black coat shone with sweat. Jamie, headed in her direction, was breathing as hard as his horse.

“Whatever is the matter?” Out of habit, Leana stretched out her hand to clasp his, then withdrew it just as quickly. “Where is Rose? Is she still with the Hastingses?”

“The three of them are coming home by way of Milltown.” He opened the front door, then followed her into the house, close enough for her to feel the heat radiating from his body. “I took the Dalbeaty road.”

Dalbeaty?
Something
was
wrong for Jamie to have chosen a different route home. She guided him into the parlor, sending Annabel after a pitcher of cool water. “I assume Father and Morna have left—”

“Aye.” He yanked off his hat. “Gone for a sennight.”

It was not like Jamie to be rude. Leana relieved him of his new hat lest he crush it in his hands. She placed it on the bed with the brim up
so it might dry properly and not stain the coverlet, then drew him toward a grouping of chairs. “Come, Jamie. Sit for a moment and catch your breath.” She nodded at Annabel, who delivered the water, then curtsied and left.

Still standing, Jamie downed a glassful, then wiped his forehead with his sleeve and threw himself onto the nearest chair, having yet to meet her gaze or offer a word of explanation.

She poured him a fresh drink, then sat within reach of him yet not too close. “ ’Tis clear something is wrong. Will you not share it with me?”

Jamie still did not look at her, his gaze aimed at the floor. “Your father …” His words faded into a groan. “The man is deceitful beyond belief.”

Guilt stirred inside her. She, too, had been hiding something. For weeks. Was she her father’s daughter after all? “Tell me what he’s done, Jamie, for I can see how it grieves you.”

Though handsome as ever, Jamie looked tired; the skin below his eyes looked bruised, the creases at the corners of his mouth more deeply drawn. He drank the water slowly this time. Stalling perhaps. When he finished, he balanced the glass on its heel, twisting it back and forth in his hand. “You ken me too well, lass.”

She offered him a slight smile. “ ’Tis not difficult to guess what a tired, thirsty man might want on a sweltering day.”

He looked up, and the glass stilled. “I am not speaking of the water.”

Oh.

Jamie stood, perhaps needing to walk out the stiffness in his legs after the long ride, just as Walloch did. “Two days ago Duncan spied a small flock of lambs on Edingham property.”

“Not
your
lambs?”

“I could not be certain. Until today.” He told her the whole sorry tale as he paced before the hearth, absently smoothing his palm across his hair. “I can only hope they will not dispose of my flock while Lachlan is gone.”

“They would ne’er do so without Father’s approval,” Leana assured him.

“I fear they might.” Jamie stopped in front of her. “Lachlan has
adopted the three Douglas brothers as his lawful sons. Malcolm, Gavin, and Ronald McBride are now your brothers.”

Leana’s mouth fell open. “My … brothers?” She had yet to even meet them.

“Worse than that, Leana, they are to be his heirs. Not you, nor Rose. Not Ian, nor any child either of you might bear. Not I, as his son-in-law, nor Evan, as his older nephew.” Jamie’s voice was kind, but the truth still struck a painful blow. “Your new brother Malcolm stands to inherit all of Auchengray someday.”

“Then there will be … nothing … for me.”
Nor for you, little one.
She folded her hands across her waist, shielding her child from the dire news. “Pardon my selfishness, Jamie. I am sorry for you and for Rose as well.”

“Nae need to worry on our behalf. We have Glentrool and its resources.” He sat down across from her with his elbows propped on his knees, his eyes filled with compassion. “You are right to be anxious about your own needs, Leana. I do not trust your father in that regard and Malcolm even less. Clearly you will need someone to provide for you.”

For a moment Jamie’s gaze dropped to her waist.

Not long, but long enough.

He knows.
Without her apron, her loosened gown left little doubt of her condition. She could not delay her announcement until Rose returned. The subject would have to be broached at once. “Jamie, I have … We must … speak.”

“Indeed we must.” He drew his chair closer, then captured both of her hands in his, lifting them away from her gown, further exposing the truth. “Leana, it is obvious why you came home.”

Her head fell forward.
Jamie, please.
She could bear anything but his pity.

“You’ve no need to be ashamed, lass.”

The tears pooling in her eyes dropped onto her skirt. No words would come except the ones that needed to be spoken. “Forgive me.”

Jamie massaged her hands in his. “What’s to forgive? ’Tis the Lord’s blessing, this bairn.” He spoke in his shepherd’s voice: low, warm, comforting. “ ’Twould seem it gives the Almighty pleasure to see you with child.”

She summoned her courage and lifted her gaze to meet his. “Does it give …
you
pleasure?”

An invisible mask fell away. Suddenly he was Jamie again. Her Jamie. The man who had once defended her, cherished her, desired her.
My husband. My love.

“Leana, it gives me great joy to think of you bearing my child.”

Her heart was so full, she dared not speak.

He brushed away the tears from her cheeks. Though his touch was light, she felt the roughness of his thumbs against her skin. “My son or daughter will ne’er need a penny from Lachlan McBride,” he promised. “And the child will bear my name. That is, unless …”

“Aye.” She offered him a quavering smile. “McKie.” His hands, wet with her tears, held hers once more. “Jamie, you do not seem … surprised by my news.”

A look of chagrin stole across his face. “That day we spoke in the nursery, when I found you on the hurlie bed …” He shrugged. “I was daft not to have noticed sooner.”

“Not at all,” she hurried to say, “for I did my best to keep the child hidden.”

He chuckled, eying the evidence. “Really?”

Now it was her turn to blush. “Not … today, for I meant to tell you and Rose this afternoon. In truth, I meant to tell you the hour I arrived at Auchengray, but …”

“But you could not,” he said, “because of Rose.”

“Aye.” Leana straightened, feeling a reassuring movement inside her. “This child is a blessing for me, yet I fear ’twill not be so for my sister.”

When he did not respond, Leana knew he shared her apprehension: Rose would be distraught. Fearful of what it might mean for their future. “I must tell her the moment she arrives, Jamie.”

He nodded, releasing her hands as he did. “Do you want me in the room?”

Already she missed his touch. “Let me tell her alone. Rose will no doubt come to you straightaway. I trust you will console her in … some manner.”

He leaned back in his chair and glanced toward the window as if anticipating his wife’s arrival. “You can be sure of that.”

Leana looked away rather than watch Jamie change back into her cousin. Keeping his distance. Avoiding her gaze. Their exchanges would fade into polite discourse, and he would become that other Jamie. The one married to her sister.

At the sound of Bess’s harness jingling, Leana turned toward the window. “Here is Rose now.” She stood, wishing she might don her apron long enough to greet them. Or had her sister already seen through her subterfuge, as Jamie had? Perhaps not; Rose could be quite single-minded, content to think only of herself and her bairn. Within the hour her sister would learn that another babe grew beneath Auchengray’s roof.

The mantel clock in the dining room was chiming the hour of four when the entrance hall filled with women’s voices. Rose and Neda appeared at the parlor door, their arms loaded with parcels. “We took our time comin’ hame,” Neda explained, “thinkin’ Jamie might catch up wi’ us. Whan we saw the
mercat
in Milltown, we couldna resist stoppin’.”

Neda held up her bounty—a basket of fresh rhubarb and another filled with ripe berries. “
Aften
a bargain or twa can be found at the end o’ the day. Duncan will be along shortly. Says he needs tae speak wi’ ye, Mr. McKie. I’d best be tae the kitchen and see aboot yer supper.” She angled toward the hall, then grinned at Leana over her shoulder. “A fu’ week o’ cookin’ for naught but the three o’ ye. Won’t that be a blissin?”

With Neda bound for the kitchen, Rose hurried to Jamie’s side, her brow knitted with concern. “You left in such haste, Jamie, and then did not return—”

“Forgive me, lass.” He turned to Leana as if seeking her counsel. “I’ve much to tell you, but …”

“Take however long you need.” Leana paused at the threshold of the door and glanced back at her sister. “When you and Jamie have finished, might you stop by my room?”