Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Three

They hadn’t ridden very far when Rafe stopped. Lucien followed suit. He knew that his friend would not be able to resist the questions. “Are you serious about all that you said back there?”

Rafe was closer to him than any brother. So he had no qualms about letting Rafe see this side of him.

“I meant every word. I live for her smile. A smile that is open, complete and just for me. You read the inscription on the wolf—she made that for me. Those are her words. She believes it. Rafe, she carried me to her cabin when I was wounded.”

They started walking the horses.

“Carried you? You mean with a horse and carriage?”

“No. I mean, carried. She lives alone up in the mountains. You were there when she was trying for the duke. She is strong. Full of life. Unlike anyone I have ever met. She encouraged me to find my life and pursue it. I learned what it was like to enjoy my life. To live. For the first time I had someone who treated me like a person, not a title or a potential husband for a daughter. A person. An ordinary, everyday person. I ran trap lines, shoveled snow. It was amazing. I found myself out there.” He shoved a hand over his face.

“She said that I had been fevered for two weeks. I still have the scars from the bear. The nearest town to her was days away. She didn’t care. She was happy. They call her the ‘heart of the mountain.’ It is where she gets her life, her spirit.”

Rafe rode in silence before he commented. “If this was before you left to go over there I would have said you were crazy. Even a month ago, but since I have seen her and you with her, I believe you. I also envy you. All this talk of marrying for a duty is not right. You know that I am in love with your sister. I have told you as much. But I want her to love me back. Seeing her laugh with Bryn and playing, it has been so long since I have seen that in her. You said that Ciara helped you find who you were. Do you think she could help Devonna? I would do anything to give her that kind of joy.”

“I don’t know. For the past seven years I have tried to find out what happened to my sister. She would cringe away from me when I would reach for her. I asked servants—no one saw any marks on her. Whatever happened to her could be what is holding her back from joining the world.”

Rafe laughed. “Listen to us. We are worse than women. Talking about love and feelings.”

“Yes, I am in love. It is a wonderful feeling.”

“I agree. So what are you planning on doing to get Ciara back? Are you going to buy her something? Give her your stables?”

“She helped me design those. I don’t think she would want them. I can’t buy her anything. I don’t know what she could want. I asked her to come back with me and she told me that she had everything she needed right there.”

“What about a statue like she gave you? Where did she get that made?”

“She made it herself. Her dad taught her.”

“I don’t envy the work you have ahead of you. I am going to leave you here and go to my home. I have to get ready for the party tomorrow at the Trenton house. Will you attend? Or are you going to be busy planning on how to get Ciara?”

“I will be there. Ciara is Trenton’s niece. That was one of the reasons he was at the house tonight. I will see you at the party. Goodnight, Rafe.”

“Goodnight, Luc. Until tomorrow.” As Rafe rode toward his home, Lucien sat and just looked at the sky. He had to get her back. He would find a way.

* * * *

The party was in full swing. Young men jostled each other to be near her. She was standing by a table when the butler made the announcement. “The Marquess of Heartstone, Lady Devonna St. Martin, and the Viscount Harrington.” Ciara’s heart skipped a beat. He was here.

“Good evening, Ciara… I mean Miss McKay.”

For the first time that night, a smile that wasn’t forced crossed Ciara’s face. “Good evening, Devonna. Or am I supposed to call you Lady St. Martin?”

“Devonna, please. I like to believe we are friends.”

“Devonna then. But you must continue to call me Ciara.”

“Agreed. Can I have a private word with you?”

Ciara followed Devonna to a row of chairs that were empty for the moment. They sat side by side as Ciara waited for Lucien’s sister to speak.

“As you probably heard, I am getting married to Viscount Harrington.”

“Yes. To Rafe, isn’t it? He seems a wonderful guy. Congratulations.”

“Yes, well thank you. I was wondering if you would attend?”

A look of amazement crossed her features, followed by a smile. “I would be honored. When is the wedding?”

“Saint says that we will have it next week, since the whole thing was rushed. Thank you. Thank you so much.” Devonna squeezed her hand and left her alone.

Ciara rose and was once more surrounded by young bucks again. Lucien watched her from across the room.

Ciara stood next to Conar by an open window as she watched Lucien move toward her. He moved like Kosse, like a predator. He was dressed in black, as was Conar, with a white cravat at his throat. His hair was tousled and he looked delectable. The gazes he sent her made her legs feel like pudding.

Before he got there, a servant came up and whispered in her ear. She turned, all else forgotten, and hurried out of the room.

Lucien saw as she gazed at him then left, following the servant. As soon as he saw Conar head in that way, he found himself hugging the shadows as he snuck up the darkened staircase to find where she went in such a rush. Was she running from him?

He heard her voice as it came from a room. He peered in the open crack and saw her seated on the edge of a bed as she held her son in her arms, not worried about the condition of her dress at all. “Mama’s here. It’s all right, Bryn. I’m here. Shhh. You’re fine now.”

A noise in the hall made him realize the danger of his situation. He shrank back into the shadows where he would not be seen, but could still overhear Ciara.

“I was scared, Mama.”

“I know, baby. Everyone has bad dreams.”

“I am sorry I took you from your party.”

“Nothing, nothing is more important to me than you. You are my son.”

“You look beautiful, Mama.”

She sighed, “Thank you, Bryn. You should lie back down. Would you like me to tell you a story?”

“Yes.”

“All right, what story would you like?” Lucien could imagine her hand as it stroked his hair as she smiled down into his face.

“Mama?”

“Yes?”

“Will I be beautiful like you when I grow up?”

She laughed a light husky laugh. “No. Men become handsome. And you will be the most handsome of them all.”

“Like my father?”

Lucien held his breath as he waited for her answer.

“Yes, Bryn. Like your father.”

“Do I look like him now?”

“More and more every day.” Pain laced her voice with that admission. “What story do you want to hear?”

“Tell me how you met my father.”

“Is that the story you want?”

Yes. Yes.

“Yes. That is the one I want.”

A sigh reached his ears. “Very well. It happened by home.”

“Home in the mountains?”

“Aye, home. Home in the mountains. I was out with Kosse.”

“Mama. You were out with Faolan. You didn’t have Kosse yet. You forgot.”

“That’s right. Faolan. Are you sure you don’t want to tell the story? I am old and I may not remember it all.”

“You’re playing, Mama. You’re not old. You’re the beautifulest woman in the world.”

“Oh, Bryn. You are so sweet to say so.” Lucien heard loud smacking kisses.

“Mama. The story.”

“Right, sorry. I forgot you are getting too old for kisses.”

“Not all the time, Mama.”

“Okay. So, I was out with Faolan. I heard a bear and I told myself ‘that is strange, bears are usually sleeping by now.’ Faolan had indicated that there was trouble so I checked the signs and saw that a horse had ridden between a mama bear and her cub. That was why she sounded so angry.”

Lucien hadn’t known about the cub.

“So when I found them, she was tossing him around like a doll and I had to have Faolan’s help to get her away from him, so I could help him.”

“Like yesterday, Mama? At that man’s house? When you got so angry? That man and his friend had to hold you. Kinda like that?”

Tears pricked her eyes as she gazed at her son. “Yes, baby. Like that. I am so sorry you saw me like that.”

“I was scared, Mama, but I think when you kicked in the door, they were scareder.”

Ciara smiled as she looked at her son, staring at her with eyes that were like his daddy’s. How resilient kids were. “Probably right. Do you want me to finish the story?”

“Sorry.”

“After the bear had been chased away by Faolan, I had to get the man back to the cabin, for he was in pretty bad shape. I had to carry him. So I picked him up like I was carrying a deer.”

“Over your shoulders?”

“Aye. Over my shoulders. Then I walked back to the cabin with him.”

“It was snowing also.”

“Right. It was snowing also. He had a fever for two weeks and…”

“You’re really strong, aren’t you, Mama? Did you pick him up like you did the men you threw around the building?”

“No.” For the first time, her tone was sharp. “Bryn, listen to me. What I did was wrong. I was angry.”

“You were stronger than them. You threw them like they were a piece of cloth.”

“Enough of that kind of talk, Bryn. What they did was wrong. What I did was wrong. Just because you are stronger than someone does not mean you should use your strength on them. When I carried your father back, it was different, I was helping him. In that case, using your strength is important.

“When you are grown, you will be strong, like your father. But you must use your strength only to help those in need. Those weaker than you. Never use your strength in anger, like I did. It is to be used to help, not hurt. Understand?”

“Yes, Mama. Mama, did you like my father?”

“Yes, Bryn. Very much.”

“Why did he leave? Did he hate you?” Six-year-old anger in his tone rang clear to Lucien.

“No. He didn’t hate me. He had to go back home. He didn’t belong there.”

“He had to come back here?”

“Aye. He lives in England.”

“Do you think he would like me? Would I like him? Can I meet him?”

“I know he would like you. And I am sure you would like him.”

“I like Conar, Mama.”

“Me too. You need to get to sleep. I have to go back downstairs or Auntie Fi will come looking for me.”

“Is Conar my father?”

Lucien stiffened as he waited for her answer.

“No. He isn’t your father. Enough questions for one night. Get some sleep.”

“How do I look like my father?”

Ciara shook her head as she tucked her son in. “You have his hair, dark and thick.”

“You have dark hair too.”

“You have his eyes. The same blue like the deep part of the lake. Now, go to sleep.”

“Can Conar be my daddy? I like him a lot.”

Lucien’s nails bit into his hands. There was no way he would let her marry that man.

“No. Conar can’t be your daddy. No more questions.”

“Who is my father? I want to meet him.”

“Enough, Bryn. Goodnight.” Her tone brooked no room for argument and the boy obviously knew that for he fell silent. Lucien shrank back as he saw the door open wider and she slipped through to head down the hall.

“Goodnight, Mama,” he heard Bryn whisper. “I love you. Night, Faolan, night, Kosse.”

Lucien was shocked. Even though his son didn’t know who he was, he knew about him. Rising, he glanced in the door and saw Faolan and Kosse asleep on either side of his son.

“Goodnight, son.” He slipped away from the door with only the wolf and cougar as witnesses.

Lucien strolled outside. He needed time to think. He approached the gardens and walked in them. There were courting couples scattered around. Lucien headed for a place he thought would be secluded. He heard Ciara’s voice. And Conar’s.

“Is he okay?” Conar asked.

“Aye. He just had another nightmare. Then he wanted a story.”

“Ye are a wonderful mother, lass.”

“I have good material to work with. He is a wonderful son. Conar, he wants to know who his father is.” She ran her hands over her face in desperation.

“Aye. He is coming into that age. He has a right to know. Are you going to tell him?”

“I don’t know. He has already met his father.”

“That’s not fair, lass, he didn’t know it at the time. I may not like the man, but he has a right to have his son know who he is.”

“It’s just that…”

“What’s going on out here?” A tall, gray-haired man came onto the scene.

“Grandpa. What are you doing here?”

“I was looking for me grandchild. Have you seen her?” His brogue was thicker than Conar’s.

“I thought you weren’t feeling well. I’m glad you are up and about.”

“That tea you gave me did the trick, lass. Give your grandpa a hug. I have years to catch up on.” As Ciara walked into his arms, he asked Conar, “What are you two doing out here?”

“We were discussing the fact that she needs to tell her son who his father is.”

“Aye. Conar has the right of it, lass.”

“It’s not fair. He is my son. Why can’t I be the one to decide?” Anger sparked her tone.

“Lass, let me tell you a story about an auld man that sent his son away. The man in question was the Laird of the Clan McKay, one of the largest, fiercest clans on the isle of Erie. He sent his only son to get some slaves from the passing trader ships. His son came back with about six. One, a woman, was standing tall in her chains. Her eyes burned with pride and resistance at being a slave. Not even the journey she had endured could dampen her spirit. She was like an Amazon princess.

“I firmly believe that if she had spoken our tongue that day my skin would have been flailed off my body with her wicked words. The son, the sole heir of the chieftain, took the slave for himself. As days passed they learned each other’s language. The chieftain told his son that if he felt that strong for the slave to tup her and get it o’er with.’ He was to be laird and a slave was beneath him.

“His son, as fiery as the hair on his head, freed the slave and handfasted with her. The laird went into a rage. He verbally attacked his son, in front of the woman he had joined with. She stood up to the man and gave him twice what he had inflicted on his son. That night his son and his beautiful princess left for America. I never saw my son again.

“Never had I seen anyone so brave before. Before now. You have your mother’s spirit in ye, lass. You don’t back down, no matter what. Don’t keep the man from his son. I regret what I did every single day. I will spend the rest of my days doing so and trying to make it up to you. You shouldna have been alone.

“I thought that your mother wasn’t worthy of my son. She claimed to be a princess and she was. I have since traveled to where the slavers said they got her. You are a princess, you are also my grandchild. I love you, lass. Something I never got to tell my son or his wife. Don’t deny his father the same chance. Please.

“You don’t have to go back to America. We are your family now. You and your son will be always welcomed on Erie. Think about it.”

Sniffing back tears, she kissed her grandpa on the cheek.

“Thank you, Grandpa. For everything. I remember Papa used to tell me stories about you. He missed you, you know. Mama would yell at him and tell him to just go home. He never did, his pride wouldn’t allow it. I just don’t know what to do. Tonight Bryn asked me if Conar could be his daddy.”

Conar laughed and grabbed Ciara around the waist, planting a kiss on her mouth. “Great. When do we marry?”

“Get off me, Conar. Even if I wanted to marry you, which I don’t, I couldn’t. We’re family.”

“But I could make you happy. Who cares what people would say,” he teased.

“Get off with you.” She shoved against his chest as she grinned at the absurdity of his words. “I will think about what you both said as far as him knowing his father. It is just not fair. What if he wants to stay with his father? I could lose him forever. Then I would be alone. I don’t know. I will think on it. But right now we had better get back to the party before Auntie Fi sends the rest of the clan to find us.” Her voice wobbled as she tried to control her emotions.

Ciara and her grandpa walked off arm in arm.