Chapter 31

CHAPTER 31

Nearly November, and the light was late to pierce the sky, and the castle was still reeling from what happened the day before.

Kate stretched in bed, a smug, satisfied smile stretched across her face, her body sore and tired.

And beside her, a gently snoring Scottish giant of a man.

She stretched over the bedsheets, nuzzling her face into the down pillow, and watched as he slept without a crinkle between his brow, no growl either.

“Kiss me,” he growled.

Perhaps she’d spoken too soon.

His hand snaked its way under the sheets and gently wrapped around her waist, hauling her close beside him.

“I’ve a lot to see to, and so do you, Mr. MacInnes.”

He peeked one eye open, a smirk on that beautiful mouth of his. She had fallen apart under it last night. Or maybe it was a few hours earlier?

The last few days were blurring together, and she looked forward to sleeping, but there was something she needed to do first.

“I need to say goodbye to my parents and the marquess.” Kate brushed her hands through his bronze hair, soft against her fingers, unlike the calloused hand gently drawing circles across her lower back.

“And Finn,” he said, dropping the smile. “I should look in on him as well.”

“Elsie likely never left his side. She must be exhausted.”

“Hmm…”

Kate winked, pressing her mouth against his in a chaste kiss before rolling away. Or attempting to.

“Oh, don’t you dare…”

He pinched her thigh, and she reached back to swat him away only to find herself underneath him and his lips on her throat.

“Good morning, Kate.” His voice was rough from sleep. The words felt like the morning sun finally peeking in through the window, forcing out the dark.

“The girls,” she protested, certain they would burst through the door any moment.

“It’s locked.”

“Oscar—”

“Will survive a few more minutes if he waits for his breakfast.”

“You’ve an answer for everything.”

“Enterprising fellow, yer soon-to-be-husband.”

She thought to protest, certain they should both be out of bed and up and about the castle. But those thoughts died away as Gabriel moved that wicked mouth of his first on her lips, then her breasts, before reaching between her legs. She closed her eyes and sighed, melting back against the bed.

“And very convincing.”

“Verra.”

An hour later, after they washed up and dressed, and Kate had discovered not one but two love bites on her body, and Gabriel helped manage her wild mess of curls, she set off to set her past firmly behind her .

But she wouldn’t do it alone.

Gabriel walked behind her, even as Oscar raced up the stairwell and his large paws slid over the wood floor. And the chorus of the girls laughing and singing floated through the hallway of the castle.

“Finn Wallace!” Gabriel called out. “Are ye alive?”

“No’ for tryin’,” Elsie yelled, shuffling out of the sickroom into the hallway with a pitcher of water.

“Let me help you to bed,” Kate said, rushing up to her and grabbing the fine china piece before it shattered onto the floor in a hundred tiny pieces.

“She willna let me rest!” Finn’s rough voice echoed out into the hallway. “Fussin’ over me. I was stabbed, no’...” He began to cough, then his voice faded.

Elsie’s face paled, then her fists tightened. “Die then, ye stubborn numpty.” She turned her back to Finn in bed.

Gabriel glanced at Kate. She shrugged, steering Elsie to her room to help her settle before seeing her to bed and assuring her that Finn would be looked after.

“Nae matter to me,” she grumbled, pulling the covers over her head. “He left once, willna matter again.”

Kate had thought so, too. But she had been terribly wrong.

Once Elsie was resting and Gabriel sent for the surgeon to return and check Finn, she dared enter the morning room.

Her parents sat at the table, and Hugh was at the pianoforte, his focus outside on the cold day marked by large stretches of dark clouds between bursts of sun.

Wild weather, the kind that signaled a cold, stiff breeze and the promise of rain.

Kate pulled her shawl tighter around her and stopped short of the table. “Good morning,” she announced.

Her mother continued stirring her tea as if Kate didn’t stand a few feet away. Her father slowly peeled the newsprint away from the front of his face and assessed her.

“We are returning to London. Shortly. ”

“Now that you have decided to grace us with your presence,” her mother said acidly, gently depositing the spoon beside her teacup.

“There has been a lot to see to.”

“Other than your parents?”

“Dear,” her father chided, returning to his paper. No doubt news of stocks were far more riveting than anything concerning his only daughter now that she refused to marry the marquess.

“Then I am sorry to see you go so soon,” she said. Even though, in truth, in spite of the guilt twisting up in her stomach, she wished never to see them again.

“The way you lie so easily,” her mother hissed. “It’s as if I never spent all those years seeing you raised to be a respectable lady.”

The pianoforte quieted before the marquess strolled up to the table and reached for his teacup.

“I don’t believe that is a fair assessment to make of your daughter, Lady Bancroft.”

“I don’t believe that is any of your concern,” her father shot back, firmly placing the newspaper in front of him. “I should have forced the union between the pair of you in London. But since she has run off because you?—”

Kate held up her hands. “Quiet, please.”

Three sets of eyes full of surprise locked on her, waiting.

“I don’t wish for this to be how we part,” she said diplomatically. “I have not changed my mind about marrying the marquess since yesterday.”

“Why ever not? You wish to remain here? After everything that has happened?” Her mother reached for her fan and hurriedly swished it in front of her face.

“Because she’s agreed to marry me,” Gabriel said, filling the doorway.

Her mother’s fan fell to the table and bounced to the floor.

Kate first peered at her father’s red face, then to the marquess who stood tall, all elegant grace. But that didn’t mean she didn’t register the disappointment hiding behind the charming dimple he flashed .

“And we would be honored if you remained so you could attend the wedding,” Gabriel continued, coming to stand beside Kate.

She reached for his hand, this time finding it close, and he squeezed it as soon as she slipped into his grasp.

“Katherine.” Her mother balked, utterly beside herself at the announcement.

“Certainly we could stay, Sir Martin, until the wedding?” the marquess asked.

“Too much time between the banns and…”

“You can’t remain here in Scotland. You belong in London. It’s been planned since you were born. The marquess would make an excellent husband.”

“Allow me to offer my congratulations on your happy news,” Hugh said, tossing an annoyed glance between her parents.

“Thank you,” Kate and Gabriel said together.

“Married!” screamed Lorna, rushing into the room wearing the marquess’s vest and a cravat tied around her head.

Kate had wished to share the news another way with the girls, rather than them overhearing her parents’ protests.

“Uncle, ye’re to be married?” Lorna raced up and hugged them both, then yelled for Maisie. “I told ye she’s no’ leaving. She’s going to be his wife, Sissy!”

“Wife?” Maisie twirled into the room with the marquess’s top hat on. She took a large bite of apple and keenly studied Kate and Gabriel. “Was he romantical about it?”

“Aye, nae yelling or the like? He’s a fondness for growling.” Lorna folded her arms, her eyes narrowed in on her uncle. “This whole time ye’ve loved her?”

Kate chuckled, peeling her attention away and mouthed “thank you” to Hugh, embarrassment burning her cheeks. Her parents’ behavior was…

“Girls, please allow us a few minutes to discuss things with Sir Martin and Lady Bancroft. Then I’ll need your help in the kitchen.”

“I dinna want to watch Mrs. Malcolm making haggis again,” Lorna whined .

“No, I’ve something much sweeter we can bake up.” Kate shooed them along, then turned back to her parents who were whispering to one another.

“You have disowned me once. It broke my heart. Mr. MacInnes is a great man who will provide well for me. He…” Her voice cracked. “He loves me, and I wish to remain here with him and be his wife. If you disagree and cannot support that decision, then I will help you return promptly to London.”

Her father stood, slamming the newsprint down on the table. “You are a blackguard, sir,” he said, turning to the marquess. “I am disappointed that you have now failed my family not once, but twice. Your father would be ashamed.”

Kate raised her hand to protest, but Gabriel tugged at her hand, nodding his head for her to wait a moment.

Hugh Nethercott, the Marquess of Brookhouse, slid that cool stare of his to her father and flashed an unaffected grin. “What I find curious is that your only daughter announced she is to be married, and instead of congratulations, you find fault with me, sir. Scotland suits Miss Bancroft. As for disappointment, I would have failed you and your family one way or another. That is what I am best at, is it not? Why not see Miss Bancroft married happily in Scotland instead of marrying me and festering with regret and contempt? Is that what you truly wish for her?”

“Your poor mother,” Lady Bancroft tsked , gathering her fan and her reticule and standing up beside Sir Martin. “You must break her heart every day.”

“Undoubtedly.”

“Mr. MacInnes, please see about having our carriage readied. My wife and I will be returning to London immediately… without the marquess.”

“Now, Father,” Kate pleaded, breaking free from Gabriel’s grasp. “It is hardly fair to take your anger out on the marquess because of my decision.”

“I didn’t ask for your opinion,” he spat back. “Nor do I find myself in need of it any longer. If you wish to marry Mr. MacInnes, then do so, but it will not be with a blessing from your mother and me. I will never approve of a union between you and this man.”

The morning room fell silent as tempers flared, and she thought she heard her mother sniffle. Kate would be angry another day. Today, she apparently was bidding her family farewell again. But unlike before, she wouldn’t give them the power to dictate her worth.

No, there was power in finding a family of one’s own, which she had here at Dunsmuir Castle. This wild, restless bunch who lived loudly and loved even louder.

“Verra well, Sir Martin. If that’s yer decision, then I pity ye.”

Her father tried to object, but Gabriel held up his hand and leaned both fists on the table, his voice low.

“Leave if ye must. But this woman here, yer daughter, will never ken heartbreak again at yer hand. I love her something fierce, and if ye wish no’ to care for her and respect her, then leave today and say goodbye. Ken that I will love her, that she has family here who love her, and will support her nae matter. She deserves that at the verra least. She is incredible and brave, and I will be the one drying her tears after you leave today. So go on if that’s yer decision.”

“Oh, I can’t!” Her mother turned and sobbed, clutching on to her husband. Sir Martin pushed the woman away, annoyed.

“Lord Brookhouse,” Kate said, clearing her throat. She glanced at Gabriel, her heart aching in her chest. “I will see about a separate carriage to convey you to London. That may be best. Come with me, please.” She paused, half out of the room, before spinning to address her parents one more time. “When I return, I wish for you both to be packed. Darling, see that they can leave quickly. I wouldn’t want to disappoint them any further. Goodbye, Mother and Father.”

She strode out of the room, ignoring the harsh whispers of her mother, pulling herself to stand tall for fear she might crumble at one more word from her father.

Kate wished only to appease them, but they would never be pleased because they had decided long ago that she was not to have a say in her life. In their eyes, she had failed them, and even with the happy news of her marrying Gabriel, it was not according to their plan. Their daughter was never supposed to remain in Scotland and marry the owner of a whisky distillery.

“Miss Bancroft,” the marquess spoke behind her quietly.

She halted, spinning to rest her back against the wall. With a large gulp of air, she closed her eyes and stemmed the tears from falling.

“That is never easy.”

“What’s that?”

“Our parents are our heroes until one day we realize they are humans, not gods.”

“I never promised to worship my parents. I never idolized them.”

“No, but you lived for them certainly, doing as told. Well, until you didn’t…”

She rolled her eyes, crossing her arms.

“That was in poor taste.”

“I would scold you more, but I have discovered you are not entirely vile.”

“Ahh, and there’s the catch,” he said with a sad chuckle. “Not all villains are terrible all the time.”

“I apologize for the way my father spoke to you earlier?—”

“There’s no need. He didn’t say anything I haven’t heard before. And he’s right, I am a disappointment to my family. That is one thing I am very good at.”

“Hugh. I am being serious.”

“Something I despise.”

“I am beginning to think that is not true at all.”

“I see you have found me out. Is it possible I am a man with a heart after all?”

Kate smoothed her skirts, avoiding that dimple and the playful tone he used to hide his hurt.

“Well, I am, Kate. I am, and I understand you see me one way, as you most deservedly should. I apologize, truly, for how I treated you. If you ever return to London, at least know you may count on me for my support as your friend.”

“Can we be friends?”

“You are marrying a dashing Highlander and your reputation, while not completely saved, will no longer solely be attached to my failings.”

She grinned. “Dashing? Hmm, he is, isn’t he?”

“He will love you more than I ever could. This is all for the best.”

“And you, what will you do now?”

“I’ve a family legacy to rescue from ruin. I suppose I must return and put on a brave face and see about landing a debutante with deep purse strings.”

“Oh, very easy to do.”

“Yes, especially when you are supposedly the biggest rake in London. Lots of mamas love when I pay attention to their daughters.”

They both laughed, before falling silent.

What a long, strange goodbye.

She was certain she hated this man.

“You are the biggest rake in London.”

That dimple of his, the one that gave him an impossible air of irresistible charm popped out. It was a weapon, certainly.

“Then it’s time for me to return, so I can do what I do best. That, I certainly don’t fail at.”

“I don’t believe you fail as much as you believe, especially if you could put aside your selfishness. I think you may even fall in love if you would only allow your heart to do so.”

“I am jaded. It gives me a certain allure.”

She tapped her slipper against his boot, breaking up the moment. “You are lonely.”

He cleared his throat and glanced away. “I will need my top hat back.”

“Of course, and your cravat and vest.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time I quickly left a home in a state of undress.”

She would have laughed, but his caustic remarks were no longer funny or charming to her. Had the marquess always held himself with such little regard? All Kate remembered was the wild, frenzied crush she had harbored for him, mooning about London and placing him on some pedestal as perfect .

Perfect was an illusion.

That she had learned.

“Come,” she said again, leading them down the hallway in search of the girls, his missing clothing, and the stable block. “I will have Gabriel help with your baggage.”

He followed behind her quietly as she walked through the castle, struck with the sudden notion that this was her home. Once her parents left, so did her connection with London. Beyond Charlotte and Lily, she no longer would have a place to return to.

Now she belonged at Dunsmuir Castle.

“They all love you very much,” he said behind her.

Kate picked up a drawing from the table in the grand hall as they passed. One that Lorna had drawn of them all dressed as fairies and fighting off a dragon. She smiled to herself.

“Not half as much as I have come to love them. They have taught me a great deal.”

Oscar trotted into the room, nudging against her thighs and tugging at her skirts as if he were a puppy.

“That is a beast,” the marquess quipped. “Not a dog.”

“He makes the perfect lapdog.”

“They’re gettin’ married, Mrs. Malcolm. Can ye believe it?” Lorna shouted.

Kate couldn’t wipe away the grin that floated to her face.

“Och, yer uncle? Are ye sure?”

“Swear it on Marcel and unicorns,” Maisie shouted.

“And kelpies!” Lorna added.

“Right, and kelpies.”

Kate burst into the kitchen with Oscar and the marquess, her hands on her hips. “I see you are spreading the news.”

Mrs. Malcolm glanced up from her spot at the sink, her apron smeared with blood. “Well good on ye, lass. Ye’ll manage well enough, ye will. Ye’ve yer hands full with these wee ones here.”

“What a poignant offer of congratulations,” the marquess whispered behind her.

She shot him a knowing look, then focused on the old housekeeper and smiled. “Thank you, Mrs. Malcolm.” Kate turned to Lorna and Maisie. “Girls, the marquess is in need of his clothing back, please. It’s time for him to leave us.”

“Leave us? Why would he do that?” Maisie asked, popping up from under the table and struggling to hold Ben.

The old cat went limp, as if accepting his fate.

“London calls, girls. Still, I must thank you for your hospitality and the fine adventure we all experienced yesterday.”

“Finn might die,” Maisie grumbled as Kate wrestled away the poor, old cat.

“Nae, it’s only a scratch. Heard him say so to Aunt Elsie,” Lorna chimed in, folding her arms and lifting her nose into the air.

“Scratch or not,” Kate continued, “Lord Brookhouse will be leaving us. Can you say your farewells and return his things?”

“It’s a fine hat…” Maisie skirted around the table before disappearing underneath. “Oh nae, I’ve lost it.” She popped back up, her hands empty.

“Ye wee rascal, ye. Give it back to the poor man and let him leave this madhouse while he can,” Mrs. Malcolm yelled.

“I’m not certain I wish to leave such enthusiastic company, Mrs. Malcolm,” the marquess replied, his voice smooth and charming. “I will miss your culinary treasures.”

“Och, get now.” By some miracle, the older woman blushed, then turned, and whacked the cutting board with her cleaver, tossing more scraps into a large mixing bowl.

“You can take them,” Lorna whispered, sticking out her tongue as if she might cast her accounts.

“The hat and clothes now, girls.” Kate held out her hand as the girls groaned and slowly made their way to turn things over, then curtsied to the marquess.

“You don’t have?—”

“That’s a fine curtsy, Maisie,” the marquess cut in. “Elegant through and through.”

Lorna rushed over, knocking her sister over to do the same.

“And the picture of grace, Lorna. Perfection, girls. ”

The marquess plucked his top hat free and tossed his cravat and vest over his forearm, walking backward toward the door. “I’ll see myself to the stable block and wish you all a fine day.”

Kate clutched the back of the tall chair at the worktable, her chest tight at the sight of Hugh leaving. It didn’t make sense, but she had grown to like the blackguard. She was relieved that the hatred she had harbored for so long had faded, and though she was looking forward to everything she had, she was struck by how difficult it was watching him clutch the door to leave.

Her past.

The weight of what had brought her here to Scotland—gone.

It was an unexpected grief, of parting with that piece of herself. Of her girlhood.

Of watching the man who had stolen that from her, who in turn had come to help rescue her, now leave from her life. As well with her parents.

It wasn’t as if she were on her own. She had certainly been more so when she first arrived at Dunsmuir Castle.

Kate wasn’t alone now; love had grown abundant around her.

“Take care, Princess.”

She scrunched her nose at him as she watched him slip through the door and make his way to the stable block, leaving her with the girls and the crabby housekeeper making haggis once more, and the old stinky cat, and the giant man who had stolen her heart.