Page 120 of Tempting the Highland Spy
Managing a bland smile, he gazed down at the baby. The little boy giggled, and for the first time in weeks, a sense of happiness filled Harrison. How would it feel to hold his own child? To be with the woman he loved—the woman he wanted to make a life with—forever?
An arrow of fresh doubt pierced his gut. By now, Grace would know if she were carrying his child. When they’d made love, he’d taken great care to lessen the possibility. But even the most time-tested method was far from foolproof.
An image fluttered into his thoughts, quick as a blink.Grace, holding a sweet-faced babe with a smattering of golden curls. Smiling softly, she drew her finger over the infant’s plump cheek.
What would it be like to hold their child in his arms? To watch a bright-eyed daughter grow to be a spirited woman like Grace? Or to half-heartedly scold an impish son who’d played a prank reminiscent of his own boyhood?
How would it feel to be with her until the end of his days?
He banished the questions to a dark dungeon in his thoughts. Blast it, a life with Grace wasn’t meant to be.
He couldn’t pull her away from her sister. She’d gone through hell and back to provide for the girl. He couldn’t break a bond like that.
After exchanging a bit of idle conversation with his brother and sister-in-law, Harrison made his way back to the house. He spotted his father sitting on a tree stump not far from the main house, surveying the gardener’s latest crops.
“Has Bidwell come up with another hybrid seed?” Harrison inquired.
Da shook his head. “Not that I know of. That’s not why I’m here. I wanted a few moment’s peace. Uncle Archie’s got his bluidy pipes out again.”
“At least it’s not dawn,” Harrison said, looking at the bright side.
“Thank God for small favors.” His father shot him a glance. “I’ve been meanin’ to talk to ye, son.”
“What do you have on your mind?”
“Yer mother is concerned about ye,” Da began, his brogue far more pronounced than Harrison’s. “And so am I. Somethin’ is troublin’ ye—is there anythin’ we need to know?”
Harrison shook his head. He damned sure didn’t intend to discuss Grace with his hard-nosed father.
“Dinnae lie to me,” his father persisted. “Ye’ve never had a talent for it.”
“There isnothingwrong.”
His father cocked a brow. “After that show ye put on last night, ye expect me to believe that?”
The look on his father’s face pierced the shield he’d erected around himself. “I’m certainly not the first man to wind up in his cups at a blasted wedding.”
“Ye’re not the first man—but that’s a first for ye, son. It’s that lass, isn’t it? The one Simon told us about.”
Damn his brother and his big mouth. Was nothing sacred?
“She’s an American, like Johanna. But unlike Johanna, she’s back across the Atlantic.”
His father regarded him, seeming to mull his words. “Then why the bluidy hell are ye here?”
The question stunned Harrison, but when he answered, he spoke the truth. “This is my home. My duty is here. The MacKendrick dagger is still concealed somewhere on Raibert’s estate. I won’t rest until I find it.”
Da looked at him as if he’d grown two heads, and neither had a brain in it. “Let me make sure I’m understanding this—there’s a good lass…a lass ye care for…in America—but ye’re here to find thesgian dubh.”
“Of course. I would not turn my back on my duty.”
“God above, Harry, yer mother and I raised ye to have more sense than that. A good woman is more important than duty to a quest. Besides, who’s to say ye cannae have both.” His father rose and began to walk to the house. “Bluidy hell, if I’d figured that way, ye wouldnae be on this earth. Neither would yer brothers nor yer sisters. I love yer ma—I would’ve moved heaven and earth to have her. Nothin’ would’ve stood in my way.”
“But your duty?” Harrison questioned, side by side with his father.
“Well, Harry, I’ll let you answer that—have I managed to honor my duty to the Guild?”
“Of course.”
“And yet, I found the lass I wanted to live my life with, and I wouldnae give her up. Not for anything on this earth.”
“At this point, I doubt Grace would have me if I was the prince of England.”
“Bah, she has no need of a blasted prince. What lass of sound mind wouldn’t rather have a Scot?” Da slowed his long strides. “Harry, ye’ve always had a good mind. And a good soul. But there are times when a man has to listen to his gut…to his heart. If ye give up now, ye’ll never know what could’ve been. If ye love the lass, go after her.”
