Courting an Angel (40 page)

“Ye can trust me,” Duncan said, “but Gavin canna keep secrets.”

“I’ll keep this one,” the six-year-old promised. “I’d do anythin’ for Lady Rob.”

“Because the MacArthur children feared the mark on Rob’s hand, they refused to play with her and hurt her feelin’s,” Gordon told them. “Lady Rob had a verra lonely childhood. Not only that, but she’s been feelin’ puirly lately.”

“She willna die, will she?” Duncan asked.

“No, Dewey’s bringin’ Granny Biddy back from Inverary to help her get well again,” Gordon answered. “I want to be certain that ye boys treat Lady Rob kindly. She loves the both of ye verra much, and ’twould be a shame if ye added to her worries by makin’ her feel worse than she already does. Can I trust ye to guard her feelin’s?”

“Ye can count on me,” Duncan said.

“Me too,” Gavin agreed.

“Come along then.” Gordon rose from the pallet, adding, “Rob’s makin’ us a mountain of bannocks, and Dewey said they’re even better than Granny Biddy’s. If we dinna hurry back to the lodge, Smooches will gobble them up and save none for us.”

* * *

Rob grabbed the bannock spade and lifted the last of the bannocks from the girdle over the hearth. Being careful not to drop them, she set the bannocks down on the cooling rack and then wrapped them in linen to keep them moist and warm until her husband returned.

Where had Gordon gone? Probably to see Gavin, she answered herself and wondered how the boy was feeling this morning.

Touched by an angel.

Rob stared at the devil’s flower staining the back of her left hand. How unpredictable these people were. One day the Campbells reviled her for being Old Clootie’s handmaiden, and the next day they regarded her as a saint.

Rob heard the door opening behind her. Wearing a smile of greeting, she whirled around but then stared in surprise as her husband’s sons followed him into the lodge. Smooches reacted to their presence first. The pup dashed across the chamber and lovingly attacked the boys.

“Look who’s with me,” Gordon said needlessly, setting a pail of milk down on the table.

Recovering herself, Rob gave him a puzzled smile and said to the boys, “Are ye hungry? Yer just in time to help me eat that stack of bannocks.”

“I could eat the whole thin’ myself,” Duncan said, dropping his satchel on the floor.

“Me too,” Gavin agreed, and set his own satchel down beside his brother’s.

“Are ye ready, sons?” Gordon asked. When they nodded, he turned to Rob and gestured toward the open door, saying, “We give ye sunshine . . .”

“And flowers,” Duncan said, handing her a freshly picked bouquet of heather, buttercups, and dandelions.

Gavin winked at her. “And the gift of our smiles.”

Rob giggled. “Thank ye, my lords. I canna think of any three thin’s I’d prefer.” She filled a mug with water and placed the flowers in it, then set it on the table. “Drag those stools over here,” she ordered. “Who wants Old Man’s milk?”

“I do,” Gavin answered.

“So do I,” Duncan said.

“Me too,” Gordon added.

Rob served them the bannocks and then mixed four mugs of zested Old Man’s milk. Gordon sat down in one chair while she sat in the other. The boys sat on the stools. Rob couldn’t help thinking that being here like this made her feel part of their family. A warm feeling of acceptance and security enveloped her.

“These bannocks are as good as Granny Biddy’s,” Duncan said.

“Even better than hers,” Gavin corrected him.

“Yer an incorrigible flatterer,” Rob told the six-year-old.

“What’s that?” he asked.

“’Tis a handsome rogue who always tells the ladies what they wish to hear,” she explained.

“That sounds like lyin’ to me,” Duncan said.

“Well, sometimes tellin’ the truth isna the kindest thin’ to do,” Rob replied.

The boy looked at his father for verification.

Gordon shrugged and nodded.

“We’re stayin’ with ye for the rest of the shielin’,” Gavin spoke up.

Rob flicked her husband a questioning look and asked, “What aboot Kendra?”

“Fergus needed her at Inverary,” Gordon lied for the benefit of his sons. “I suppose he missed her company.”

“Dinna ye want us with ye?” Gavin asked, drawing her attention.

“Great Bruce’s ghost, of course I want ye here,” Rob answered. “What larks the four of us will share.”

Gavin pointed at Smooches and said, “Ye mean, the five of us.”

“I stand corrected,” Rob said with a smile.

Gordon and Duncan went fishing after breakfast, but Gavin chose to stay behind. Rob and the boy wandered outside and sat beneath a birch tree while Smooches scurried about and inspected the immediate area.

“Tell me aboot when I’m supposed to lie,” Gavin said, gazing up at her with piercing gray eyes so much like his father’s.

“Yer never supposed to lie,” Rob told him, hiding a smile. “However, there are two kinds of lies. A bad lie almost always hurts someone, but a good lie keeps a loved one from becomin’ hurt or angry. So a bad lie causes pain, but a good lie prevents it.”

“I ken what ye mean,” Gavin said. “If Grandfather asks me if I’m payin’ attention to my lessons, I should say yes even if I’m not. Grandfather is an old man, and we dinna want to upset him.”

“Exactly.” Rob reached out and picked a dandelion. “Close yer eyes. I want to see if ye love butter.”

“How can ye do that?” the boy asked.

“If I put this dandelion beneath yer chin and it reflects yellow, that means ye love butter,” Rob told him.

At that, Gavin closed his eyes and lifted his chin.

“Oh, I see that ye simply adore fresh butter,” she said.

Gavin giggled and said, “Let me try.”

Rob handed him the dandelion, closed her eyes, and lifted her chin. His voice sounded very close when he said, “Ye love butter too.” She opened her eyes and found him practically nose to nose with her.

Gavin gifted her with his father’s devastating smile. Unexpectedly, he lifted her left hand and pressed a kiss on her birthmark, saying, “I love ye, Lady Rob.”

Tears welled up in her eyes, but she brushed them away with her fingertips. “I love ye, too.”

“Why do I see tears in yer eyes?”

“’Tis joy, sweetie,” Rob told him. “Ladies always cry when they’re happy.”

Gavin threw himself into her arms, and Rob hugged him close. How she wished his father would say those same words to her. Great Bruce’s ghost, she’d done what she vowed never to do, what she’d struggled against these many long months. She’d fallen in love with Gordon Campbell.

That night Rob learned what being married with children really meant. Gordon placed the fur throw down on the floor in front of the darkened hearth, and she covered the boys with a blanket. Smooches insinuated himself between them beneath the blanket.

Rob undressed in the darkness and, for modesty’s sake, donned one of her husband’s shirts. She climbed into bed and snuggled close to him. Lying there within the circle of his arms made her feel secure. When Gordon leaned close and covered her mouth in a sweet kiss, she entwined her arms around his neck and pressed herself against him.

“Lady Rob?”

“Yes, Gavin?”

“Can we eat bannocks for breakfast tomorrow?”

“If ye want.”

“I do.”

“Me too,” Duncan called.

“Verra well,” she said. “If ye dinna sleep now, I’ll be too tired to cook for ye.”

Silence reigned for several long moments.

Once again, Gordon leaned close and kissed her. Rob flicked her tongue across the crease of his lips, and their kiss deepened into smoldering passion. She felt his long fingers gliding up her legs, and her breath caught in her throat when he stroked the dewy pearl of her womanhood.

Noiselessly, Gordon moved to cover her body with his own, and Rob guided him inside her. The bed creaked in protest as they began to move as one.

“What are ye doin’?” Gavin asked loudly.

Gordon and Rob froze and then heard Duncan say, “They’re makin’ ye a baby sister.”

“Thank ye,” Gavin called.

Gordon and Rob struggled against their laughter and lost. Surrendering to the inevitable, Gordon rolled off his wife and pulled her close against the side of his body.

“Good night, angel.”

“Good night, husband.”

* * *

“Granny Biddy,” Gavin cried, dashing across the lodge yard.

Hurrying out of the stable where he’d been grooming the horses, Gordon felt a surge of relief at the sight of the old woman with Dewey and Gabby. With Biddy’s expertise, he would learn what ailed his wife. Even now, Rob lay on the bed inside the lodge because she’d become dizzy and nauseous at breakfast.

“Thank God yer here,” Gordon said, helping the older woman dismount. “Rob’s ill and needs yer tendin’.”

“What a journey I’ve had,” Biddy complained. “My bones ache, and my puir backside is sore. I’ll never make it back to Inverary alive. I’m the one who needs tendin’.”

Duncan and Gavin giggled out loud, earning themselves a frown from the older woman. Gordon hid his smile, and Dewey rolled his eyes. Only Gabby was solicitous of her.

“Come rest over here a minute,” Gabby said, taking her grandmother’s arm.

“I’ll rest when I’m dead,” Biddy snapped, slapping the helping hand away. “Get the haggis from Dewey and bring it inside.” She rounded on Gordon and ordered, “Ye wait out here.”

Gordon inclined his head and whispered to Dewey, “Does she think to cure my wife with haggis?”

Dewey shrugged but said nothing. Five minutes passed, and then another five. Ten minutes grew into thirty, and then an hour.

Gordon stared at the lodge’s closed door. Each passing moment etched deepening anxiety across his features. God’s balls, what was taking so long? Rob must be terribly ill. What would he do if he lost her? That disturbing thought made his heart sink to his stomach. Accustomed to having her near, he couldn’t imagine life without her now.

“Is Lady Rob goin’ to die?” Duncan asked, apparently sensing his father’s tension.

Gordon glanced at the seven-year-old and wished he knew the answer. “No, son,” he said. “Lady Rob will be better now that Granny Biddy is here.”

“Is that a good lie or a bad lie?” Gavin asked.

Puzzled, Gordon turned to his youngest son and said, “I dinna ken what ye mean.”

“Lady Rob told me that —”

The lodge’s door opened. Wearing the fiercest scowl Gordon had ever seen on her face, Granny Biddy marched outside. Gabby followed behind her grandmother.

Braced for the worst, Gordon stepped forward and asked, “Well?”

“I ought to slap ye silly for draggin’ my brittle bones all the way up here,” Biddy snapped, surprising him. “The laird is correct; ye do possess the sense of a donkey.”

“What’s wrong with my wife?” Gordon demanded.

“Nothin’ is wrong with her, ye blinkin’ idiot,” Granny Biddy shot back. “Yer seed hit its mark.”

“Ye mean she’s pregnant?” Gordon asked.

Duncan and Gavin shouted with glee and jumped up and down. Dewey hooted with laughter, and Gabby grinned at the amazed expression on Gordon’s face.

“I love ye,” Gordon vowed, hugging the old woman. He planted a smacking kiss on her lips and then headed for the lodge.

Rob was sitting on the edge of the bed when he walked in. She cast him a shy smile and asked, “Did Biddy tell ye?”

Gordon nodded and sat beside her on the bed. “Why didna ye tell me?” he asked. “I’ve been sick with worry for ye.”

“Ye have?”

Gordon smiled and put his arm around her shoulder, gently drawing her against the side of his body. “Of course I was worried,” he whispered, brushing his lips across her temple.

“I didna know myself,” Rob admitted, her eyes downcast. “I thought I was dyin’.”

Gently, Gordon turned her head toward him and waited until she lifted her gaze to his. He planted a kiss on her lips and whispered, “Thank ye, angel.”

Rob pasted a sunny smile onto her face, but her thoughts were troubled and blinded her to the tenderness in his expression. A simple thank you for bearing his child wasn’t enough; she desperately needed to hear those three magic words, I love you.

But what else could she expect? Disappointment had dogged her entire life. Why should this be any different? Perhaps she should consider herself fortunate that her husband respected her enough not to lie to her. That would be even more unbearable than knowing the truth.

June brought warm, dry breezes to the upper pastures and mountains. The summer mornings filled with the melodic sounds of bird song, afternoons heated beneath brilliant sunshine, and calm evenings brought displays of fireflies down in the glen. In the woodland garden, lady’s slipper orchids bloomed as did the mistletoe in the oaks. Midsummer Eve and the full mead moon came and went.