Duchess of Mine (30 page)

Fleur gently wiped the tears from Helen’s
beautiful, gaunt face as her own spilled from her eyes.

Helen smiled down at her. “Lord, I ken death.
I ken change. Everything is transitory.”

“I hate that.” Fleur’s whisper was
child-like, and she felt like a kid, stating such a melodramatic
thing.

Helen’s grin widened though. “Ach, me too. Me
too.”

The words spilled out of Fleur then. “How—how
are we supposed to . . .?”

“Live? Love?”

Yes, but Fleur had wondered more about
control, about having some sense of control over her life.

“So much is out of our hands, my dear. My
Patrick dyin’, it changed everything. I felt for so long that I had
to submit to the change, let it roll over me. I married a pig of a
man afterward, because I felt I had no choice. But that wasn’ the
truth, my bonny girl. The truth is, I was too scared to do anything
different. Too scared to find love, the kind of love I felt toward
my Patrick. Now I cursed all my sons with half truths of what love
and life could be like. I did that because I was too scared to
truly live.

“I chose a silly lie for myself, tellin’
myself that marrying Albert made me safe, because he was a good
provider. Nay, it was my sons who were good providers, but by doin’
so I forced them to give up their childhoods, give up the fun of
life. I did so much wrong, Fleur, by being too scared, too scared
to live, to love.”

Helen caressed both her hands around Fleur’s
cheeks. “Please, love, don’ be scared like me. I ken how awful
change is. I ken that fear. I ken what ‘tis like to feel as if
nothing is in your control, that everything will be taken away from
ye. And there is so much that can prove that right, ye ken? There
is death and storms that can flood yer house, take it all away. But
what ye hold in yer heart no one can take away. That is yers to
keep forever and ever. Don’ be a fool like me. Don’ waste yer life,
thinkin’ about bein’ safe, when the only thing that’s safe is
what’s in yer heart. That’s it. There are no other guarantees, but
what ye want to put in yer heart and keep there. Then ye do yer
best to fight for that, keep it there. And that, my love, is all
that matters when ye’re lyin’ in yer deathbed—the people that ye
bound in yer heart.”

Clutching onto Helen, Fleur couldn’t help but
think of the people bound in her heart—one brawny, tall red head
with a talent for words and stories came to mind. Was she bound in
his heart?

Chapter 26

R
ory almost halted, fell to his
knees, and gawked at Fleur’s beauty as she finished wringing a
white cloth in Mrs. Cameron’s lantern-lit kitchen. Such a simple
task, and yet Lady Fleur made it infinitely graceful. Lord, it had
been so long since he’d seen her. Aye, a little more than a week,
but in that time she seemed to have blossomed. Her gold skin glowed
more than usual, and her dark eyes sparkled with life. She smiled
widely at him, and after dropping the cloth on a counter, gave him
a hard embrace.

“So nice to see you, Rory.”

He’d come with the excuse of visiting
Duncan’s ill mother, appearing the concerned captain. But he’d
wanted to see Fleur. Duncan had indicated he’d thought she might be
in the kitchen, not seeming to care where she was. And Rory himself
had steered through the house to find her, and—ach—now he was with
her. His throat constricted from his emotions. It felt damned good,
actually perfect, to hold her in his arms. An open window revealed
the night sky—a thick black with perfect glimmering diamonds. The
kind of gems he wished to lavish her with. Amazingly, he could one
day. And one day soon. He couldn’t believe how efficiently his
plans had started to come together.

She extracted herself from his arms, pools of
unshed tears in her eyes.

“Sorry,” she whispered.

“About the embrace?” He wouldn’t let her go
and held her by her arms, ensuring she stay close.

She smiled through her tears. “I’m so happy
about Helen’s recovery. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

“Nay. Not at all.” Although he hoped she
hugged him for more than merely her joy at Mrs. Cameron’s health.
He expected she’d missed him. However, like him, she couldn’t say
as much. ‘Twould be disrespectful to do so in Mrs. Cameron’s house.
But he wished she’d be bold enough to say the words. Then he’d tell
her his plans.

Duncan lumbered into the room. Almost beside
himself with annoyance at being in Duncan’s company again, Rory
softened when he realized something was different. Granted, Duncan
was still as an intimidating sight as ever. But something in Rory
had changed. He wasn’t so...well, unsettled by Duncan. It helped
that Rory knew exactly what would happen to the huge idiot in a few
days’ time. The only hold up was his mother’s quick recovery. She
would be the one person who might ask where he’d gone, since Duncan
wouldn’t be able to. Still, Mrs. Cameron was sick enough it
shouldn’t cause too much a delay. She probably couldn’t voice her
concern very loudly, at least.

Reluctantly releasing Fleur’s arms, Rory
forced a wide smile into place and turned toward the large man. He
shook his hand, as if they were old friends, though the charade to
act as the concerned captain was becoming difficult. Feeling nearly
giddy, he could hardly wait to tell Fleur his plans,
their
future
.

“Again, my friend, congratulations on yer
mother’s recovery.”

Duncan nodded and squeezed his hand a little
too roughly, but Rory would never flinch. Duncan’s smile was also
wide, but it didn’t approach his eyes. Ah, the big man must be
playacting too. But why? He had no reason to be suspicious.
Yet.

“Thank ye, Rory. That’s awfully kind of ye.”
Duncan’s gaze shot to Fleur. There was obvious tension from the
man. But Fleur wouldn’t meet his gaze. Interesting.

Her little infatuation must have passed as
Rory had hoped it would. Nay,
knew
it would. Who would want
someone like Duncan? As much as the man might be wise and
knowledgeable about military procedures, that was the end of his
skills. Rory was confident he had so much more to offer Lady
Fleur.

She gathered more cloths and folded them
close to the washing basin. Ach, it was demeaning work for such a
lady, and he’d sure as hell change that when his plan was set in
motion.

Well, it already was, wasn’t it? Cromwell’s
captain of guards stood at alert, waiting for his order.
His
order.
Rory MacKay, the second-born son of the laird, but the
one who would wrest the leadership from his brother and
simultaneously keep the clan powerful and wealthy, unlike any other
in the Highlands during this tumultuous time. He alone would save
his people and the dark lady beside him. If there were such things
as minstrels in this forbidding age, they’d sing about him. Oh
hell, he’d make sure there was a golden age for the MacKay clan.
There would be minstrels singing in his castle.

“Would ye care for an ale, sir?” Duncan
asked.

“Nay, I’ve extended my visit long enough.
‘Twas nice though to see yer mother. She looked well. Very
well.”

“Aye, she was thrilled by yer visit, Captain.
Tired her out, it did. She’s sleeping now.”

“She is?” Fleur’s head popped up from her
folding.

“Aye.” Duncan nodded.

“She hasn’t had her laudanum yet.” The lady’s
brow furrowed uneasily. She was so pretty even when she worried,
worried for her people. She’d become a nursemaid for Helen, and the
MacKay clan would love her, even if she were an outsider. Her
actions would more than remedy the fact that she wasn’t born a
Scot.

It was the one wrinkle in his plan—Rory
worried how the people would receive Fleur as his woman. Well, he’d
give them food and money, thanks to the new alliance with Cromwell,
and they sure as hell shouldn’t complain, should they?

Fleur gathered one of the dry cloths and a
wet one too. “I’ll give her the laudanum.” She turned to Rory and
took one of his hands, giving it a squeeze. “Come back and visit,
Rory. It’s so good seeing you again.”

“Of course.” His heart expanded at least by a
rod. He tried to trim his grin to something presentable, after all
Duncan watched, but he wasn’t too sure as Lady Fleur left if he
wasn't smiling like a dunce.

Then he faced the large man nearby. “Again,
glad to hear the news of yer mother.”

“Thank ye. Thanks for visiting her too.”

“Anything for my lieutenant.”

Duncan cleared his throat and looked down to
the fine wooden floor. “Thanks, and are ye sure ye wouldn’t rather
hire another—”

“I won’t hear of it, Duncan,” Rory argued.
Duncan was referring to their earlier conversation regarding the
man retiring. But that wouldn’t bode well for Rory’s campaign. So
he’d made promises that Duncan need not train the troops for weeks
more. He’d told Duncan to have some time to think things over, and
if Duncan changed his mind, then Rory might agree. The whole while
he’d tried to crush his grin, knowing Duncan’s eminent future.

“Ye’re simply invaluable to me,” Rory said.
“There’s no need to worry about comin’ back anytime soon. Stay with
yer ma. If my ma was—well, if she were in Scotland and her health
was...well—I would be at her side too. Ye’re a good son to do what
ye do. A good man too. And that means the best for me and our
troops. Don’ worry ‘bout a thing. I’ll do some training with the
men while here in Durness. Then, when yer mother’s fully recovered,
we’ll look at the options again.”

Slowly Duncan nodded. “Heard the laird is off
to visit yer ma in France?”

Steeling his reaction even more, Rory nodded.
Yes, that was another one of the puzzle pieces that had been all
too easy to put in place. With his brother gone, he could take the
title uncontested.

“That’s nice,” Duncan said. “Hope all is well
with her.”

Rory nodded again. “She’s fine. The lairdship
just wanted to see his mother.”

“And I forgot to ask earlier, but where are
Evan and his brothers?”

Damnation, Duncan and his questions. Rory
tried not to twitch to give away any sign that the young troops
Duncan asked of were now in Cromwell’s captivity and would be
shipped to the American colonies or the Fever Islands as indentured
servants. Aye, those seven-year indentured servants had bought him
time and his clan’s future.

“They—well, Evan fell for a tavern wench. He
wooed her and I think she appreciated the young lad’s attention. I
let them stay in Brae for a few extra nights. They promised to be
back within the week.”

Duncan nodded then cracked a lopsided grin.
“The lad’s keen on a woman, eh? Good for him. Good for him.”

Rory nodded and smiled himself. ‘Twould be
difficult to keep with the lies, but as he made his excuses to
leave Mrs. Cameron’s house and the unsuspecting Duncan, he knew it
wouldn’t be too long before he could tell everything to Fleur.

Chapter 27

E
ven with only the moon and stars
streaking their silvery light through the open windows, Fleur saw
Helen no longer rested in fits with a glistening face, due to her
fever. She appeared peaceful and even held a tiny smile. Fleur
couldn’t help but grin back at Helen as she slept. Her heart felt
as if it were swelling with warm, sweet...love. It couldn’t be
anything else. She knew she loved Helen. It was hard not to. Not
just because Helen looked so much like Rachel, but because she was
completely honest. There were no pretenses. She’d made mistakes,
but through it all she had just wanted love. That resonated with
Fleur.

However, Fleur knew as much as she craved
love, she was also terrified of it.

Everything is transitory,
Helen had
said. That frightened Fleur. But she was so tired of being
fearful.

Fleur leaned over and gently kissed Helen on
the forehead and breathed a sigh of relief. No more long vigils of
watching over Helen, praying her lungs kept lifting with the needed
air. Something nagged at Fleur to follow the events to its logical
end—Helen’s cancer had metastasized, after all. More caring and
grave concern would come. But her mind wouldn’t grind any gear to
finish the thought. She wouldn’t—couldn’t let it. Perhaps it was
her heart not letting her think too far in advance.

Leaving Helen’s chamber, Fleur quickly
tiptoed through the house, searching for Duncan. She might be
scared of what she felt, scared of his reaction, but she also knew
she couldn’t stop herself any more. She wanted Duncan. It was that
simple.

No, it was a bit simpler than that.

She loved him.

When she couldn’t find him in the dark home,
she glanced out one of the large arched windows in the back of the
house and saw a light in the barn. The man was trying to retreat
from her. Maybe he was scared too. Well, she had attacked him
earlier, then avoided all eye contact like a coward. Jeez.

It was time to be a woman.

Wrapping a faded blue plaid around her
shoulders, she ran out into the night. Although it hadn’t rained
for a few days, the soil under her feet was soft and sometimes
squishy. But it felt exalting to jog through. Soft grass met her
toes closer to the barn, but then gave way to a hardened path,
where animals had trudged over long ago. Helen had gotten rid of
the barn dwellers after her sons had been captured.

God, the tragedies Duncan had endured. She
needed to find him, talk to him, make him smile, kiss him, then . .
.

Her body zipped with the thought of Duncan
touching her. For such a huge man, he knew how to be gentle. It
made her feel special. It made her feel loved.

He’d never said the words, but she hoped . .
.

He hadn’t heard her enter the clean barn, too
busy making a bed for himself out of the straw in a spare bin with
piles of blankets. She stepped on some straw, finally making a loud
enough crunch that Duncan straightened with fists near his chest.
He relaxed his pose immediately, and Fleur rushed to him. She
couldn’t help herself.