The Great Scottish Devil (24 page)

“What are ye going to do aboot this, brother?” she asked cautiously, watching him with a worried expression.

Brodie straightened. He would do what he had to do, what he should have done even before he'd learned Annabel carried his child. “I am going after her. This day.”

Maggie glanced at the miserably gray sky. “But the weather…”

Mist had started falling and the threat of snow hung in the air. He didn't care. “I leave today.” He would go alone if he had to, but he doubted his men would allow it. In truth, he would prefer to go alone.

* * *

Varrich Castle

Annabel paced back and forth in front of the massive fireplace in the great hall. A fire blazed and heated the large space, yet it didn't warm her. She felt cold, inside and out. She felt alone, even among all of these people. She missed the friends she'd been making at Urquhart, missed the Hendersons, especially her mother...

No! She needed to remember that Rose, sitting patiently in one of the nearby chairs quietly working on her needlework was her mother. Her real mother. She felt horribly guilty every time she forgot that. Rose had been nothing but kind and loving since they had ridden away from Urquhart. Certainly she'd shown great patience with Annabel since they had arrived here.

Behind her she heard the sounds of people talking and laughing and doing anything to stay inside out of the early winter storm. With each howl of the wind outside, Annabel grew more restless. She hadn't been sleeping, barely eating. All she could think about was her baby…and Brodie…and Brodie with his new wife. Tears misted her eyes as she thought of him being with Agatha. She had to stop thinking about it!

“Ye are going to wear a hole in the floor, daughter,” Rose said quietly, with a hint of concern.

Annabel forced aside her troubled musings. “'Tis stone. I will not do any such thing.” Still, she stopped pacing and faced the gentle woman. “I need to tell Brodie,” she blurted out, surprising herself.

Rose nodded and looked pleased. “Yer father has been impatiently waiting fer ye to make that decision.”

Annabel thought back to the day her father had spanked her, something which she had deserved. She had miserably admitted to him that she and Brodie had had relations. Her father had been angry at first. Not horrified and wanting her far from his sight, as she'd feared. Then she'd told him she carried Brodie's babe. He'd gone from swearing he'd kill Brodie for having taken her innocence to swinging her around in delight. Since then he'd been hounding her to send word to Brodie, insisting the man had a right to know about his child even if he had married someone else. She had worried the news would hurt his new marriage and couldn't bring herself to do it. He deserved to be happy because he'd already suffered so much. He might not love Agatha now, but she'd believed he would try to be a good husband. And here she was thinking about causing him pain again.

She glanced across the large room to where her father sat talking with his first knight. “I did not think I could chance harming Brodie's new marriage. But…but he would want to know.” She fidgeted with the sides of her skirt. “Mayhap I should leave it alone.” She couldn't seem to make up her mind.

Her father noticed her looking at him, said something else to his knight, and then strode toward her. He was a good man, a loving man toward his beloved wife and toward her. He'd searched for her, prayed to find her, and never really given up on her. She loved him, Rose, too. And she was growing fond of the MacKay clan, who cared more that she had finally returned to them than that she carried a bastard.
A bastard
. The thought that some people would see her child as that hurt her unbearably at times. But it couldn't be helped.

Braden walked up and gave her a pleased look. “Ye are feeling better this day, I see.”

“Aye.” She stiffened her resolve before she could change her mind again. “I want a message delivered to Brodie as soon as possible. I will not risk any of your men in this weather now, but when—”

He gave her a smile filled with pride. “'Tis glad I am ye have finally decided this. The second the storm breaks I will send a small party to Urquhart.”

She worried her lower lip, uncertain again.

“Do naught second-guess yerself, Roseanna. He will want to ken aboot the babe. He deserves to ken.”

Annabel nodded, although nerves tingled in her stomach. “Aye, he should know.” Tears stung her eyes and she glanced away. “I only hope he can forgive me.” 

* * *

They had been traveling for two long weeks. Brodie had begun to think they would never reach Varrich Castle. He had faced one problem after another since his sudden decision to leave Urquhart. Going off on his own had proven impossible, as he'd suspected it would. Maggie had insisted Nicholas accompany him, though he'd tried to argue against leaving her, but his sister was even more stubborn than Brodie. Only, as it had turned out, Nicholas hadn't left her. His impossibly crazy sister had sweet-talked some of the men Nicholas had left behind into riding with her as she'd intended to follow them discreetly. But Nicholas hadn't been fooled for long. He'd discovered the other travelers and he had been beyond furious with his headstrong wife. Brodie's party had been forced to not only wait for the others to catch up, but also to wait while Nicholas had taken Maggie off to a semi-private spot and lit a fire on her bottom. Brodie hadn't even attempted to stop him. She'd deserved it.

He stretched in the saddle, relieved to finally see the Kyle of Tongue at the base of Varrich Castle. It had been slow traveling after Maggie and the others had joined them. Neither Nicholas nor Brodie had been concerned about Maggie's misery in riding on a very tender bottom. But they had been forced to make many stops because a pregnant woman simply had to stop often.

Studying the area and the best path to go on this side of the Kyle, Brodie heard Nicholas and Maggie bickering yet again. Her husband wanted her to stop and rest for a while. She was refusing, having spotted the castle sitting atop the hill overlooking the Kyle and Tongue Bay. Brodie didn't even bother to look back. They could work out their problem.

He nudged his horse into movement and thought about Annabel. Maybe he hadn't given her a real choice in leaving, but he still had the urge to spank her for keeping this secret. None of them had known for a fact when they had left Urquhart that she carried his babe, but he had believed so in his gut. The rider who had met them three days ago with a missive from Annabel had confirmed it. Aye, he might spank her pert bottom, and then he'd make love to her until neither of them could walk. He shifted in his saddle just thinking about that.

The sun had started to set by the time Brodie and his party finally rode into the inner bailey of Varrich Castle. A large group of MacKay men surrounded them, but not in hostility. They had been expected. Still, Brodie felt uncomfortable. He had taken The MacKay's daughter's innocence. He had gotten her with child and now she believed she would bear it alone, and raise the child as a bastard. He would not allow that to happen!

As he sat atop his stallion and waited to be met by the castle's laird, Brodie tried to calm down. It would not serve him well to ride in here and make demands. And then he saw Braden walk out from the keep and stride toward them.

“Laird Urquhart,” Braden acknowledged and stopped a few feet away.

Brodie's patience fled at the guarded look on the older man's face. He looked straight at his father's closest friend and said, “I am here to claim my woman and my child.”

Braden stood tall and stiff, frowning. “What of yer wife, Agatha? Ye may want to acknowledge yer child, but I willna allow ye to take it from my daughter, my clan, once it is born.”

“'Tis naught my intention to take the child and naught the mother.”

Interrupting their glowering match, Maggie and Nicholas rode up beside him. He didn't need their support; this was something he had to take care of himself. He jutted out his chin. “I dinna wed Agatha. She loved another.” He held Braden's gaze. “As do I.”

Braden studied him for a second, judging him. Brodie felt the tension from Braden's men, from his own men.

Finally, Braden gave a curt nod. “'Tis glad I am to hear that. Assuming 'tis my daughter who ye love.”

“Aye. I love Annabel and will wed her here as soon as can be arranged.”

Again Braden nodded, and then he glanced at the others. A slow smile spread over his hard face as he appeared to recognize Brodie's sister. “Maggie? Little Maggie?”

She was already sliding from her horse before Nicholas could get to her. She threw herself into Braden's arms. “Oh, Laird MacKay, it has been so long.”

“It has indeed.” He hugged her, looking a bit awkward. ““Tis verra sorry I am aboot yer father and Fergus.”

Maggie nodded in understanding and smiled when Nicholas walked up to peel her from Braden's arms. She snuggled against Nicholas. “Laird MacKay, this is my husband, Nicholas Neville, Lord Middleham.”

“I have heard of ye, heard what a guid friend ye were to Maggie's father and brothers. Ye are welcome here anytime,” Braden said.

Before anymore could be said Rose and Annabel stepped out onto the keep's steps. Brodie immediately tuned out everyone else. His sole focus was on the woman he had desperately missed.

She, too, appeared to concentrate only on him. Puzzlement creased her brow. “How could you get here so soon? The message was only sent a few days ago.”

Brodie dismounted and strode past Braden, ignored all others. “We had already started this way.”

“Why?” She looked past him, her expression wary. “Where is Agatha?”

Maggie scurried by him, hurrying to the foot of the steps. “Lady Stonewall decided not to marry my brother.” She glanced at Brodie, huffing in disgruntlement. “He should have come for ye immediately. Instead he grouched around and—”

“Maggie, stop interfering,” Nicholas strode up to her and pulled her back into his embrace. “Let your brother handle this.”

“But…”

Brodie gave her a warning look and she, blessedly, turned quiet. He faced Annabel, savoring the sight of her, looking for signs of the baby beneath the cloak she wore, frustrated that he couldn't see well enough.

“I believed ye were better off without me. How could ye want a man with only partial memories? A man who held to his pride and insisted on marrying a woman he didna—couldna—love. A man who—”

“Stop it! Now!” Annabel snapped, frowning down at him. “I would not care if you ever remembered any of your past, foolish man. I fell in love with the brooding, stubborn, prideful man you are now.”

He blinked at her forcefulness, admired it. He'd missed her spirit, her fire, and her warmth.

Braden walked up next to him and said, “Daughter, ye shouldna speak to him like that.”

“Nay. Let her speak. She is right. I have been a fool, but I am determined to make up fer it.” Brodie walked to the foot of the steps and held his breath. “Can ye fergive me, Annabel?”

“I will have to think about it.” She gave him a saucy look. Then she leaned down to whisper so that only he would hear. “You might have to do some persuading.”

The many ways he could persuade her flashed through his mind. He wished they were alone now, that her parents, his sister and brother-in-law, the many men and servants all avidly listening and watching were gone. He forced down thoughts he didn't want to share with any of them, especially not his future father-in-law, and turned to Braden. “Is yer priest here?”

Braden nodded, clearly understanding. “We can have the ceremony on the morrow.”

“I would prefer sooner,” Brodie countered. He had waited long enough to make her his wife.

“I have not agreed to marry you,” Annabel said prissily. “I might want to wait a few days, a week, a month even.”

“Roseanna,” Braden said on a growl of impatience.

Brodie kept his focus on Annabel and said firmly. “Make the arrangements. The wedding will take place in an hour.”

Then he climbed the steps and took Annabel by the arm. “Yer chamber. Now. We need to 'talk.'”

Brodie sensed the people around them moving away. He was certain Maggie wanted to interfere again, but, thankfully, Nicholas held her back. He heard Rose intervening and distracting Maggie by talking about what immediate tasks needed to be taken care of for the wedding ceremony.

Annabel tried to wriggle free of Brodie's firm hold on her arm, but he was insistent. It didn't take long to reach her bedchamber and for him to close the door behind them. Her stomach fluttered with nerves, even as her woman's place heated with warmth and need. She'd prayed that one day she would see him again, that he could find it in his heart to forgive her for not telling him sooner about the baby. When she'd heard that he had come here, she hadn't believed it. She'd rushed outside with her mother and wanted to fling herself into his arms. She'd wanted to hug him, kiss him, and to never let him go. But now…

“You are going to…” She couldn't say the words, but she had known from the instant she had sassily denied she'd agreed to marry him that he would not accept her answer. “I did not mean it, that I would not marry you. I only wanted you to ask me, not insist upon it.”

She swallowed hard. “Persuade me. But not by…by…”

Brodie shoved off his thick fur coat and then reached to tug off her cloak. He dropped them both to the floor, his gaze locked on hers. The heat in his eyes showed the depths of his feelings. She relaxed, a bit. He might be upset with her now, but he loved her.

“Aye, I intend to burn yer bottom. But naught because of yer games in resisting our marrying.” He looked down at her barely swollen belly. “I will spank ye because ye even considered keeping this precious babe a secret from me. 'Twas wrong, verra wrong.”

She shivered, feeling his pain, his disappointment in her. “I did not know what to do. I was confused.” She hung her head and felt again the guilt that had weighed so heavily upon her since leaving Urquhart. “I will naught fight yer decision. I should not have left without telling you. I hate that I did.”