Page 38 of A Highland Bride Taken
“Good. I will tell ye, then.”
Their eyes were wide with anticipation, and she knew her words would be received well.
“We are going on a picnic,” she announced.
Their eyes lit up, but that spark dimmed as quickly as it appeared.
“Missus Norah willnae let us go outside,” Ollie muttered glumly.
“Worry nae, me dears.” Mabel gave them a mischievous smile. “She cannae stop us today. This picnic is the Laird’s order. Even Missus Norah cannae disobey yer uncle.”
At her reassurance, their excitement returned, and they hurried back to their nurse, so giddy and eager to dress up for the new adventure that they had forgotten to ask if the Laird was coming along.
In about half an hour, the twins were dressed smartly, their usually unruly hair schooled into a semblance of order. Mabel was contemplating going to the Laird’s study to remind him of his promise, but before she could take a step in that direction, she saw him strolling towards them, impeccably dressed in a fresh linen shirt and trews that clung lovingly to his muscular legs.
Mabel did her best to drag her eyes away from his magnificent body, but it took a lot of effort.
“I believe the cook had everything at hand. Everything we need is in a wagon outside,” he said to her. “Are we ready?”
“Aye,” the boys chorused, reaching for his fingers to drag him along, their eagerness coaxing a chuckle from him.
They walked down the path in companionable silence, the boys skipping ahead and the Laird pulling the small wagon along. When they got to the river, he helped her set up the picnic while laughing at the twins’ antics.
Soon enough, the twins dragged him into the game. Mabel laughed as she watched them try to outrun him, their little legs flying so fast as they tried to escape him, their giggles of pure enjoyment and excitement filling the air.
Mabel decided that this was how she loved the twins best: happy, carefree, and healthy as any bairns their age. She resolved to do everything in her power to keep that joy on their faces.
“Aunt Mabel,” Connor called, a tinge of panic in his voice as he ran towards her. “Me shoe fell into the river.”
Fat tears were rolling down his cheeks.
Her heart constricted. She looked around for the Laird, but he was far away, helping Ollie build something with mud. It looked messy, but they were both happy and too distracted to be of any use. Time was of the essence.
She stood up and followed Connor to the riverbank.
The shoe in question was quite close to the bank, and she was confident she could reach it if she extended her hand a little. She knelt down and stretched out her arm, but just before her fingers could touch the shoe, the flowing water shifted it a little.
She tried to catch it before it was dragged downstream. Instead, she tripped on the hem of her dress and fell into the river.
Connor’s scream of horror grew more distant as the water dragged her under. She should have known better than to get close to a river when she was a poor swimmer at best. She thrashed, but it was no use, and with every second, she was convinced that she was going to die soon.
Suddenly, she felt a strong arm wrap around her waist and drag her to shore. She coughed while her rescuer thumped her back, forcing her to eject the water she had swallowed.
“Ye daft woman,” the Laird’s exasperated voice grunted in her ear. “Ye could have died, ye ken?”
It was true. If her husband had even been a moment late, she might have drowned.
She resolved to thank him as soon as she caught her breath.
When she looked up, she saw the twins huddled together, sheer terror in their eyes. They had barely recovered from the grief of losing their parents; she could imagine the fear they had felt, seeing her almost drown.
When they saw her looking at them, they ran towards her. Connor reached her first, throwing his small arms around her neck.
“I am most sorry, Aunt Mabel. This happened because of me. Please dinnae die,” he sobbed.
His pleas made tears spring in her eyes.
With a shaky hand, she rubbed his back soothingly. “Ye didnae do anything wrong. It isnae yer fault. ‘Tis mine. I should have asked for help.”
