The Highlander's Woman (The Reckless Rockwoods #3) (29 page)

“
Tis no’ true
,” Una exclaimed angrily. Julian uttered a noise of contempt.

“I speak the truth. You care about your own needs and comforts ahead of anyone else,” Julian replied in a harsh voice that dared her to challenge him a second time. “Which makes me wonder why you chose this moment in time to tell your father about the boy.”

“I thought I could honor Caitriona’s wishes, but the thought of her wee bairn growing up here without a mother’s love was breaking my heart.”

Una’s defiant words made Patience bite down on her lip. The woman was right, when she left Crianlarich, the only woman to serve as Aiden’s surrogate mother would be Muireall. Julian’s sister was young and didn’t deserve such a burden, no matter how willing the girl might be to care for her young brother. Guilt swept through Patience. She had only to bare her heart to Julian, and she wouldn’t have to leave Crianlarich. It was a terrifying thought when she hardly had the courage to admit the truth to herself.

“Your sudden change of heart for the child’s welfare is touching,” Julian sneered. “You had no desire to take the boy almost a year ago. So again, I express my curiosity as to why you have developed this sudden need to act as the child’s guardian?”

“Because my father deserves to know his grandson.” An indecipherable emotion ran through the haughty note in Una’s voice, and Patience frowned. The woman was hiding something. She was certain of it. Without warning, an image of Una sobbing uncontrollably as the woman sat in a moving carriage filled Patience’s head.

Just as abruptly, the vision ended leaving Patience bewildered. What would make the woman cry with such heartbreaking intensity? Una Bensmore was not the type of woman who would surrender to weakness of any kind. As she contemplated the vision, Patience suddenly jerked in amazement.

She still possessed the
an dara sealladh
. The fire hadn’t taken everything from her. She closed her eyes as she welcomed the relief the knowledge gave her. Although her gift of sight had failed to help her save Caleb and Devin, for better or worse, it was a part of her. Without it she wouldn’t be Patience Rockwood MacTavish. She didn’t ponder the revelation very long as her attention was drawn back to the small drama being played out in the salon.

“And yet Caitriona left the boy in my care, no’ yours.”

“She was dying,” Una said belligerently. “She did no’ know what she was doing.”

“Your sister knew precisely what she was doing,” Julian bit out with an icy fury that would have made most people think twice before responding.

“I can no’ believe my Caitriona would no’ let her sister bring the boy home to me.” Bensmore’s fierce objection indicated the man intended to dig his heels in where Aiden was concerned.

“Caitriona wished to protect you from her shame, and I gave my word to ensure her request was honored. If I had it to do over, I would no’ have agreed to such an oath.” The regret in Julian’s words was met with a brief silence before Bensmore heaved a sigh.

“I do no’ doubt my Caitriona would no’ want to burden me so,” Bensmore said quietly. “She was a thoughtful child, but I want to take my grandson home with me.”

“That I can no’ agree to.” Julian’s soft reply was firm and emphatic.

“Ye will no’ keep me from the boy, Crianlarich.”

“I have no’ said I would prevent you from seeing the child,” Julian replied calmly, but with irritation. “All I have said is that the boy will remain at Crianlarich under my care as Caitriona requested.”

“Caitriona might have been misguided in her thinking as to whom should care for the child. But I do no’ think she would want ye to keep the boy if I am willing to take him.” Bensmore persisted in his attempt to convince Julian to give Aiden into his care.

“Caitriona is not here to speak for herself, so I must abide by her request.”

“Was it her wish that ye lie and claim the boy was yours?” The anger in Bensmore’s voice was softened by the dull edge of grief. “The whole countryside believes the boy is yours and your woman’s.”

“That was my father’s doing. When I discovered his lie, the damage had already been done. Despite my father’s deception, I felt it in the best interest of the child to leave things as they were.”

“The best interest of the child?” Una’s laugh was sharp with derision. “Do ye no’ mean ye stole my sister’s wee bairn to raise as yer own because yer wife can no’ give ye an heir.”

“Your daughter forgets she is talking to the Laird of Crianlarich, Bensmore.” The words were as cold as they were menacing, and Patience took a small step forward until she was standing just inside the salon. Bensmore and Una stood with their backs to her as they faced Julian who was staring blindly at a point over their head. Bensmore gestured angrily at his daughter in a silent command for the woman to apologize. After a long moment, Una uttered a churlish apology. The man glared at his youngest child before turning back to Julian.

“My apologies, Crianlarich,” the older man said in a placating manner. “I have indulged her too much over the years.”

“Aye, which is another reason why I will no’ give the boy to you. You may visit him here, but he will remain in my care. I’ll not have you,
or your daughter
, ruin the child.”

“I’ll no’ do anything to harm my nephew,” Una bit out her answer in a restrained manner obviously angered by Julian’s comment. From where Patience stood, she saw Bensmore nod in agreement despite the fact Julian couldn’t see him.

“The lass speaks the truth. She will love the boy as if he’s her own. Una says ye and your wife are estranged. It can no’ be good for the boy living here without a woman’s touch.”

“My personal affairs are none of your business, Bensmore. It has no bearing on the matter at hand. Aiden will remain at Crianlarich Castle.”

“But ye do no’ deny the situation with your wife. ‘Tis said in the village that ye will divorce the Mistress of Crianlarich. If ye do so, you’ll need a new wife.” There was a sly note to the man’s voice that made Patience flinch.

“I suppose you have someone in mind for the role,
if
that were ever to happen?” Julian’s mouth thinned with anger as Patience’s drew in a quick breath. Was it possible he’d been bluffing about agreeing to a divorce? Did he still intend to refuse granting her a divorce? The thought made her heart swell with hope.

“Your father promised us that Una would be Mistress of Crianlarich.”

Bensmore’s words made Patience stiffen. Why would Fergus MacTavish make such a promise? Her mind raced as she tried to understand what her father-in-law had been thinking at the time he’d made such a promise. Images flooded her head at the thought, and Patience caught her breath in surprise. Her gaze quickly scanned the other woman’s figure.

Una still possessed the lithe figure she’d had the day the woman had driven a wedge between Julian and Patience, but the woman’s curves were softer—more pronounced now. Patience pressed her hand against the base of her throat as she remembered her vision of Una holding a baby. Una was carrying Fergus MacTavish’s child. The woman had shared the old Crianlarich’s bed, just like her sister.

“My father filled Una’s head with visions of being the grand lady of the manor. Even if I did no’ love my wife, I would have no interest in granting Una such a boon,” Julian said with an icy anger Patience knew well.

At Julian’s declaration, Patience drew in a sharp breath of amazement. Had he really just said he loved her? Disbelief held her immobile for a moment as she struggled to believe she wasn’t dreaming. Slowly, a warm layer of joy wrapped around her as she accepted the fact that she’d heard her husband correctly.

Her heart stopped beating for a long pause before it resumed beating at a frantic pace. Joy swept through her as she accepted what she’d heard as truth. He loved her. But why hadn’t he told her over the past few weeks? The answer was as blinding as it was simple. He was uncertain of her. She’d rejected him—called him a liar. His pride would never let him reveal his heart to her a second time unless he was sure of her.

“Ye should not be caring for the boy. The wee bairn is our blood, not yours,” Una said fiercely.

“You had no desire to take the boy almost a year ago. So I ask you again, why this sudden need to act as his guardian?” Julian said harshly.

“I made a mistake. I thought when ye divorced...” Una’s voice trailed off as if she realized she’d said more than she intended.

“And you thought I would marry again? Marry you?” Julian’s contempt was almost a tangible force, and Una jerked as if he’d hit her. The woman quickly straightened her back and held her head high.

“Ye need an heir, and I can bear ye fine sons,” Una declared with confidence. “I could be of use to you, Julian. I would make ye a good wife.”

“I have no need of your help or anything else. I already have a wife,” Julian said with disgust.

“But she does no’ plan to stay at Crianlarich, does she?” Una sneered. “Her brother has come to fetch the Mistress of Crianlarich and take her back to England. What will ye do when she leaves ye? Ye will need an heir. If ye divorce the Englishwoman, I will give ye the son ye need.”

While Percy hadn’t come to take her home, Patience understood how the woman could have easily jumped to the conclusion. Even though the Crianlarich staff was a small one. It was naïve to think servants didn’t gossip. Una would have known there was still discord between Patience and Julian. Her gaze settled on Julian’s face, which was no more readable than a marble statue.

Patience noted his color had become a shade lighter at Una’s words. The strain the conversation was having on him was evident by the tight, pinched corners of his mouth and the thinness of his lips. Patience stiffened with dismay. He wasn’t just angry, he was in pain.

When she’d entered his bedroom a short time ago, she’d been too distraught at Una’s presence in the house to even grasp the fact that Julian had looked ill. Now she knew better. He had another headache, and the stress of his argument with Bensmore and his daughter was taking its toll.

“Well, Crianlarich? Do ye deny that ye will soon have need of a wife to give ye an heir?”

Una’s calculating tone ignited a fire of indignation inside Patience. The strength of it reminded her that she was a Rockwood worthy of the maternal Scottish blood that flowed in her veins. Armed with a confidence she’d not experienced in a very long time, Patience moved deeper into the room.

“I don’t know that I’ll give my husband an heir, but I do know we shall raise Aiden together,” Patience said firmly as both Bensmore and his daughter jerked in surprise and whirled to face her. “And he will become every bit the wonderful man my husband is.”

Patience kept her eyes focused on Julian as she walked toward him. She didn’t bother to glance at Una and her father as she walked past them to halt at her husband’s side. All that mattered was Julian and her need to tell him how much she loved him. Julian’s expression was still unreadable, but his posture had become less rigid. The moment she reached him, Patience slipped her hand into his.

Immediately, he squeezed her fingers hard. Despite the slight discomfort, she reveled in the possessive nature of the silent gesture. Slowly, she turned to face Una and her father. Although she’d not seen their initial reaction to her scars, she was certain their expressions had not changed. The older Scotsman averted his gaze from hers, but Una’s lack of pity surprised Patience. The other woman simply stared at her for a long moment before she smiled with malice.

“Do you find it a blessing that Julian can no’ see the hideous, revolting creature he married?”

“My scars are not who I am. But they
do
reflect my willingness to protect those I love,” she replied before Julian could rush to her defense.

The moment she spoke, Julian went rigid then squeezed her hand so tightly she uttered a small gasp of pain. The pressure on her hand instantly eased, but her husband didn’t release his hold on her.

“Do no’ ever insult my wife again, Una Bensmore.” Julian’s voice resounded with a quiet fury, and while he made no threat, his intent was clear. Patience experienced a flash of satisfaction as Una blanched.

“I think it’s time you both left,” Patience said as she glanced up at Julian and saw the pain that had made his mouth so thin it was colorless. “Arrangements can be made at a later time for you to visit with Aiden.”

“We will see him now,” Una said belligerently. “He is our kin, and we will no’ wait for the likes of ye to decide when we can see him.”

“As the Mistress of Crianlarich, this is my home, and you are a guest here.” Patience narrowed her gaze at the woman. “I thank you to remember that when you speak to me.”

Una’s mouth fell open in astonishment at Patience’s reply. Satisfied she’d silenced the woman for the moment, Patience turned her head toward Bensmore who was eyeing her with calculation.

“Mr. Bensmore, my husband is an honorable man. He gave Caitriona his oath to care for Aiden. With my help, Julian will see to it that the child grows up happy and well cared for. We welcome you to visit whenever you like.”

“I can no’ accept that. My grandson belongs with his own kin,” Bensmore said in a voice that indicated he would not give way in his fight to take Aiden home with him.

Patience heard Julian mutter a barely audible oath at the other man’s stubbornness. Certain the Scotsman would not yield his position easily, Patience realized the only way to convince the man to leave Aidan at Crianlarich was to tell him the truth.

“Aiden
is
with his own kin, Mr. Bensmore,” she said quietly as she met the older man’s gaze.

“I do no’ understand,” Bensmore said with a look of puzzled confusion. Beside her, Julian touched her arm with his hand.

“Patience—”

“If we are to settle the matter of Aiden’s care, Mr. Bensmore must know the whole truth,” she said firmly as she defied Julian’s warning. Patience turned her head back to the Scotsman. “Julian is a good and honorable man, sir. He was put in a terrible position when he gave his word to your daughter. But I made no such promise.”

“I do no’ understand,” Bensmore said with agitated anger. “Speak your mind, woman.”