Journey

W illow clung to Niven in the townhouse's foyer. "I wish you weren't going," she whispered close to his ear. "It's the first time we've been apart since…"

It was too difficult to speak of the long, lonely weeks when she had no idea what had become of Niven after he was kidnapped by her brothers.

"Ye ken I'll always come back to ye," Niven replied, kissing the top of her head. "If the Grande Armée couldna keep me from ye, naught can."

"I know, and I'm truly glad you're going with Rowan. Let's hope the journey brings him to his senses."

"I may be crippled, but I'm not deaf, Sister," Rowan shouted from the portico where he was supervising the loading of the baggage.

She giggled when her face heated with embarrassment.

"And now, naughty lass, yer giggles ha'e given me a problem," Niven quipped, pressing his hard maleness to her mons.

She melted closer, aroused as always by his need of her. "Come back safely, my sexy Highlander."

He grinned, then kissed her deeply before taking his leave.

The well-sprung Withenshawe ducal carriage in which Rowan and Niven traveled was comfortable, the ride so smooth it was easy to doze off for fairly long periods of time. After four days en route, Rowan was exhausted. The best rooms in the various inns were invariably on an upper floor. He would not have managed without Niven's help.

However, aware of Anglesey's impatience with complaining, he determined to take the ups and downs in stride, so to speak.

Speaking of striding, he'd been intrigued with the newspaper articles about Anglesey's artificial leg. It was difficult to understand how such a thing could work, and he was reluctant to get his hopes up, but if the marquess could master the contraption and walk without crutches, why couldn't he? Rumor had it Anglesey even rode a horse, something Rowan had been reluctant to attempt for fear of tumbling off and injuring himself. He'd ridden well since childhood and used to enjoy a good gallop. What a coward he'd become.

"I miss riding," he absent-mindedly told Niven as the carriage finally pulled into the avenue leading to Plas Newyyd.

"'Tisna something I enjoy," Niven admitted. "Nay need for a horse in Glengeárr. Highlanders walk where'er they need to go or take a wagon."

"But Willow loves to ride," Rowan replied, wishing he'd kept his mouth shut when Niven's face fell.

Niven was impressed with the stoic way in which Rowan had handled the sometimes difficult aspects of the journey. His brother-in-law was obviously making an effort to cope. The remark about Willow took him by surprise. He adored his wife, but hadn't known she loved riding. Selfless person that she was, she'd never complained that he obviously wasn't keen on the activity. He wasn't afraid of horses, but didn't fully trust them. He resolved to overcome his distaste for the beasts and accompany his wife when she went riding.

"I thought I kent all there was to ken about Willow," he confessed. "Clearly, I was wrong. I suppose we men think we know best."

It was tempting to mention Daisy. Rowan thought he knew what was best for her, but he was sadly mistaken and his misguided belief was hurting them both. When the sprawling Plas Newyyd came into view, Niven couldn't resist planting a seed of doubt in Rowan's head. "Did ye ken my cousin recently jilted her fiancé at the altar of St. George's?"

Rowan fell back against the squabs, his eyes round like saucers. "Daisy?" he gasped, looking like he'd been struck by lightning. "Engaged?"

"Aye, to an earl, but she didna go through with the marriage." He anticipated the next question. "She's still in love with a daft mon who refuses to admit he needs her."

Rowan was conflicted. He had no doubt he was being manipulated. Someone had arranged this meeting with Anglesey, but who? Niven's agenda was clear, but did he have the social clout to arrange the invitations?

And what did they hope to accomplish? Deep down, he knew what he wanted—to be once again the confident heir to a dukedom and the besotted lover of Lady Daisy Hawkins. But such hopes and dreams were dangerous to even consider. He'd nursed a broken heart and broken body for over a year. Progress had been slow, but he had at long last accepted his limitations as far as the dukedom was concerned. Marrying Daisy presented a whole different set of challenges. He wasn't the handsome, able-bodied fellow he used to be. How could Daisy not be repulsed by the mutilated body he himself despised?

Upon first meeting Daisy before the war, Willow had taken an instant dislike to Rowan's fiancée. That was before Niven's disappearance and before she knew the heartache of being separated from the man she loved. Her brother might try to deny he still loved Daisy, but Willow knew it for a lie. Rowan needed a loving, supportive wife to help him cope with his physical limitations. Living without Daisy was making him miserable.

Now Willow was a married woman, she understood her brother's reluctance to embark on an intimate relationship. There were no secrets in the bedchamber. Rowan hated his own body so he apparently assumed Daisy would also be disgusted by his severed leg.

But Willow was confident Daisy was the right woman for Rowan. She evidently still loved him thought they'd been apart for more than a year. Willow recognized how difficult life must have been for Daisy. She also suspected it was Daisy who'd somehow finagled the invitations for Rowan and Niven. As sister to a duke, she had the social standing, and she apparently spent a good deal of time assisting homeless war amputees. She'd probably encountered worse cases than Rowan who had wealth and a title to cushion his loss. Niven had no doubt told her of his and Rowan's journey from Flanders with the then Earl of Uxbridge who had no trouble telling Rowan to buck up and stop feeling sorry for himself.

Taking all these factors into consideration and despairing of ever finding Ash at home long enough to accompany her, Willow instructed the family's driver to take her to Ramsay House in one of her father's broughams.

Daisy was pleased Willow had come to visit. She'd always had the feeling Niven's wife didn't care for her, but it seemed Willow now saw herself as an ally in the campaign to convince Rowan they belonged together.

"I hope I'm not being too bold," Willow said as they enjoyed their tea and biscuits. "I suspect it was you arranged for the invitations to Anglesey's ceremony."

"I confess I wrote to the marquess," Daisy replied, seeing no purpose in denying it. "However, it may not have been my letter that produced the invitations. Perhaps Anglesey remembered Rowan and Niven from their journey home."

Willow smiled. "You don't really believe he'd expect them to travel all the way to Wales just for old times sake."

Daisy returned the smile. "Well, I like to think my plea had some influence in the matter."

They both laughed, kindling a hope in Daisy's heart that she and Niven's wife might become friends.

"I admire your courage," Willow said.

"I'd do anything to get Rowan back," Daisy replied. "I feel I've been on a long journey with no destination."

Willow nodded. "I felt the same when Niven was missing. Let's hope Anglesey makes my brother see sense."