Page 69 of Wed to the Highlander
He wrapped them both in his arms as the bells in the village chapel echoed across the snowy glen, heralding his son’s arrival.
And, for the moment, all was well.
Chapter 22
The snow had melted into slush, leaving rutted tracks along the castle road where the carriage waited, its wheels already muddied with the season’s thaw. Winter still held the Highlands in its grip, but February offered a fleeting glimpse of spring just around the corner. Little James, who everyone called Jamie, was bundled in his grandmother’s arms, blinking up at her with the wide-eyed solemnity of the very new, where everything was a curiosity.
Duchess Catherine had tears in her eyes. Not that she’d admit it aloud.
“I suppose I must trust you with him,” she allowed, her voice wavering. “Though I’ve half a mind to stuff him in my valise and take him with me to London.”
Maggie, standing beside her with her hand in Duncan’s, laughed softly. “He’d put up a fuss for his next meal before you made it through the gates.”
“Well,” her mother said, “he has Sommerville blood. We don’t go quietly.”
After kissing his downy head one last time, she handed her precious bundle to his father and turned to Maggie. She held her daughter’s face in her gloved hands.
“You’ve done beautifully, my darling girl. I was so afraid for you at first. But now I can leave knowing you’re stronger than ever, and our beautiful boy well protected.”
Tears welled in Maggie’s eyes.
“And what of me?” she whispered. “How am I supposed to say goodbye?”
“You don’t. I expect you and Jamie to visit often.”
“Am I invited too?” Duncan asked, cradling his son in the crook of his arm as if it were second nature.
“If you can tear yourself away from your Highlands long enough.”
“Once things are settled, I’ll be back tae dividing my time.”
“Good to know. But I’ll board a train and be on your doorstep if I must.”
“You’re always welcome here, Your Grace.”
She crooked her finger at him. He didn’t hesitate to bend, and she whispered something for him alone.
Duncan’s mouth quirked, but he offered the duchess a dignified bow.
“I’ll strive tae make that unnecessary, Your Grace.”
She nodded once. “See that you do.” She pressed one more kiss to the top of Jamie’s head then turned to the carriage. “I must be off, or I’ll miss my train in Edinburgh.”
Without looking back, she climbed into the carriage. Maggie knew she was holding back tears—not because she saw them but because, as the driver cracked the reins and the horses surged forward, her mama dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief.
Maggie stepped into Duncan’s free arm, leaning into him as the carriage rolled down the soppy lane.
“What did she say?”
“I shouldn’t repeat it.”
“But you will.”
“Aye. She said, if I ever forget your worth, she’d come back and remind me—with a solicitor. And I don’t doubt her word for a minute.”
They watched in silence until the carriage disappeared from sight. Maggie’s heart was heavy, but she marveled at what a difference a year made. She’d arrived in the Highlands as a reluctant bride.Now, she was a wife. A mother. A MacPherson.
As the wind stirred the thawing earth and the chapel bells marked the hour faintly in the distance, she knew that with her husband and son bound to the Highlands, her heart had settled here—where love had quietly taken root.
