Chapter 21

CHAPTER 21

Gabriel growled as he crawled down the hallway with Maisie on his back.

“Faster, faster,” she yelled. She dug her heels into his sides as if a horse.

“Careful now,” he groaned.

His niece laughed as he sought out the rest of the family in the dark castle early in the morning.

Today was the day. The day of the Harvest Festival.

When he was younger, he lived for them, even if his father never participated. And his brother wasn’t interested either. But Gabriel loved the way the air rippled with excitement as clans from all over descended upon their small village to compete.

“Where’s Lorna?”

“No talking, beastie!” Maisie grabbed his hair and twisted his head to the side.

He’d never make it to the festival at this rate. He reached back and pulled her off, rising to his feet and roaring like a giant.

“Uncle, Uncle,” she cried, laughing as he tickled her stomach and dangled her upside down.

“Don’t tire yerself now, Brother.” Elsie flew down the stairs fixing her hair, her eyes wide and bright. It was good to see her happy after all these years, even if the reason for the reunion wasn’t joyful. She had fled to Edinburgh brokenhearted.

“Never.” He caught his breath and brought his hands to his hips, surveying her. “What are ye up to now?”

She shrugged, stepping around him, and tagged her niece, racing down the hall. “Better ready yerself, Brother. I’ve heard Fergus Campbell is fierce at the caber this year. Prepared to be beaten?” she shouted over her shoulder. Elsie and Maisie screeched, and they ducked and weaved around one another.

“Where’s Kate?” he called out.

“It’s Miss Bancroft!”

God gave brothers sisters for some reason or another, but why exactly he hadn’t discerned yet. Mostly she was meddlesome and, in this instance, knew too much judging by the twinkle in her cat-like eyes.

“Where is she?” he repeated.

“Lorna was sad,” Maisie said, poking out from behind Elsie. “Miss Bancroft is with her.”

Oscar trotted along as Gabriel took the stairs two at a time, worried over Lorna and missing Kate. She had slipped out of bed too early this morning.

He stopped short of entering the room, stunned by what he heard inside. Lorna was… reading. When had she learned to read?

He poked his head around the doorway, finding Lorna snuggled against Kate in bed. Kate reclined on her back, one hand holding the book and the other brushing the young girl’s hair away from her eyes. Time, she had reminded him. The girls only needed time to heal. And yet again, she had been there, even as they tried chasing her away. Even as she thought Elsie had come to take her place.

But Kate wasn’t something he could ever replace. She was family.

His family.

He was more in love with her today than yesterday and knew, without doubt, the same would be true for tomorrow and the day after. He wished to tell her as much, but he feared she would shy away from such a confession. Or worse, believe she wasn’t worthy of it.

Every damn day. That would be his promise to her.

Every day he would prove she was worthy of his love, even if their time was cut short.

And London and the rest could go hang. She needn’t be afraid. If all went well, he would have more money than he knew what to do with, and he would protect her. If she could leave London behind and the life she thought she wanted, for what he could offer her here in Scotland, then he’d marry her.

She caught his piercing gaze and smiled, mouthing not to interrupt, then quietly urged Lorna to continue.

His chest swelled with pride, and then anger pushed its way up, heavy as stone as he realized Tavish should have been the one standing there, watching the governess teach his oldest child to read. Instead, his brother’s passing left him to fill that spot. To stand there and smile and be proud when the girl never wished for her uncle to be the one there supporting her. She wished for her father. And rightfully so.

And she and Maisie would never have the opportunity.

Gabriel left Scotland when he was younger and never once thought of having a family of his own. And now, with one letter, he had two girls to raise and a crumbling castle and a business that was in ruins.

Or it was in ruins.

Now, the inn was open, and there were paying guests. The required permit for the distillery was being arranged, and work on the expanded site was slowly progressing. By spring, the distillery would be opened for operation, and in the meantime, he could sell off the stores of illicit whisky they had.

It turns out, all his life he had been searching for the right partner. And now, she lay in bed in front of him.

Love struck.

He couldn’t pass it off as some affair. He had never felt this way for the few mistresses he kept while in Paris or Venice. He had had a sweetheart once while he was at university, and he had thought himself in love. Perhaps it had been. But with Kate?

It was as if she had made herself a home within his heart, and for all her stubborn pride, she wouldn’t leave.

He cleared his throat and pushed off the doorjamb, slowly clapping for his niece.

She poked her head up and smiled.

“Reading now, I see. Ye must be almost ready to turn eight.”

She shrugged, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. “It isna so hard, Uncle.”

“You have been working very hard, Lorna. And it shows,” Kate said, grinning over at her charge.

The girl snuggled closer to Kate, and Gabriel felt something in his chest crack. His heart perhaps? That would explain why it was suddenly so hard to breathe.

“I’m proud of ye,” he said.

The little girl beamed, springing up in bed to launch herself at him. He staggered back, caught a little off guard. “Whoa.”

She buried her head into his shoulder and hugged with all her might. He thought for a moment, while trying to find his balance, if he had ever hugged his father. But his father wasn’t the sort, at least not to him.

Tavish wished to be king because their father ruled over them as if he were one. And all that wrought was Gabriel feeling as if he needed to prove himself.

Kate kicked her long legs off the bed and onto the floor, slowly traipsing up. She rubbed a hand over Lorna’s back, leaning in to whisper softly something into the girl’s ear. Lorna popped her face up from his shoulder and grinned at Kate, sniffing back tears.

“It’s been a sad morning for Lorna.”

“Is that so?” He backed up a few steps and dropped onto the bed. Lorna instantly broke out into giggles.

“I miss Ma sometimes, that’s all.”

“Hmm, yer Ma,” Gabriel said. He glanced up at the ceiling, searching for a memory. The truth of it was Tavish had loved his bride, but Gabriel had been desperate to shed his brother’s shadow. “I remember yer da asked yer ma to bake him a special pie for ages. Finally, she broke down and spent the day baking it. And when yer da arrived home, she ran about searching for the pie that had gone missing. Ye’ll never guess where I found it.”

“Where?”

“Well, I walk in and see everyone tearin’ the place apart like, and I think, a pie canna walk. Except I was wrong.”

Lorna scrunched her face, laughing at her uncle. “What do ye mean?”

“I left the kitchen to head to the stable and there, in the middle of the stable block, was Ben dragging the pie along, then eating a bit, and dragging it a bit farther, as if he were going to hide it up in the hay loft.”

He rubbed his eyes, surprised he was laughing.

Tavish had been furious the pie was missing, and Morag had sworn up and down she had baked it. And after spending the past few days running whisky to the coast, Gabriel remembered being so hungry he could have eaten his own arm.

But he wouldn’t forget Morag bent in half, laughing so hard she was crying. Or how Tavish tried taking the pie from the cat, who hissed and snarled at him. Or how Gabriel had returned to the kitchen and asked Morag how to bake the pie, so he could make it himself. And how Tavish had mocked him in the kitchen for aiding his wife in baking another pie.

“Sounds like Ben. The old grouch.”

“He was a hundred years old then.” Gabriel caught her gaze, and still, she was much too far away from him.

“I believe it’s time for you to show me the Harvest Festival, is it not?”

Lorna jumped up and raced to the armoire and ruffled out a tartan shawl. “Are ye prepared to lose, Uncle?” She winked, then raced out of her room, and shouted behind her, “Hurry.”

“Well”—Kate gestured for him to follow—”you heard the girl.”

“How long has she been reading? ”

“About a week or so.”

He nodded, approaching her. “She likes ye.”

“Oh, she tolerates me as does most anyone.”

“I dinna tolerate ye, lass.”

She grinned. “No?”

Gabriel reached for her, but she darted quickly to the left, spinning around and tossing her head back to laugh, revealing the slip of skin at the base of her neck and collarbone that he craved to nip at. She made the most delicious moans whenever he did.

“Tolerate ye?” He walked up, gazing down upon her. “Kate, I burn for ye. I think about ye night and day?—”

“Gabe.” She crossed her arms and pursed her lips, as if trying to stem the smile threatening to burst. “Have you hit your head?”

“Listen, woman,” he grabbed her and gently tossed her over his shoulder. He chuckled as she grumbled, striking her fists against his back. “I’ll tell ye more later, but I’m expected to toss the caber.”

“Put me down, you beast.” Kate swatted at his arse and wiggled against his shoulder. “Is it true what they say about kilts?”

The cheeky woman fluttered the fabric, as if she would lift it to reveal his arse.

“If I win today, ye’ll marry me, and ye can find out.”

“If you win… what ?” Her body went rigid. “I will do no such thing.”

“Why no’?”

“You didn’t ask me.” She whacked his shoulder once more. “You can’t march in here and pick me up and order me to marry you.”

“I should warn ye,” he said, descending the stairs with her over his shoulder, as if he had just plundered a village. “My odds of winning are verra good today.”

“Oh, listen to the poor woman and put her down already, Gabe.” Elsie laughed, glancing behind her as the girls counted each stair as they descended. “Ye’re no’ even trying to hide it now?”

Gabriel blew out a frustrated sigh and placed Kate down on her feet. She reached out and knocked his chest with her hand. And if his family…

The hell with it .

He reached for her skirts, pulled her close, and kissed her, well and truly, marking her as his.

The girls squealed and clapped as Oscar raced ahead of the group. Kate licked her lips once he was finished kissing her.

“You can’t just kiss a woman and demand her hand in marriage.” Kate brushed back her hair, flustered. But he saw the curve of her lips, and the smile that barely hid there. “Now go on. Time for you to show me how Scottish men toss logs in skirts.”

“It’s a kilt,” he corrected.

The girls giggled, and Elsie threw her arm around Kate, pulling her in for a hug.

“It shows off yer lovely knees,” Elsie teased.

“Strong knees,” Lorna piped in.

He heard them chitter behind him as he strode out of the castle and opened the door to the carriage.

“Look at us, arriving in such style. Who do ye wish to impress, Brother?”

“I need to toss a log so I can marry her,” he said, pointing at Kate who winked at him before settling into the carriage.

“I still haven’t heard you ask.”

“I didna ken I needed to.”

“You dinna ken love, Uncle. Ye have to ask a woman and get on yer lovely knees like. Make it romantical.”

“Romantical?”

Lorna rolled her eyes. “Uncle will never marry an Englishwoman.”

Kate averted her gaze, suddenly interested in surveying the falling leaves of the oak tree.

“You haven’t won yet,” she said softly.

But he would. And the sooner the better.