Chapter Twenty

“How did you meet my mother?” Dorie asked her father as soon as they sat down on a fallen log. Despite the cool breeze, she was happy to be outside, having spent so much of her life indoors.

Rascal ran off to explore as her father smiled and threw a stick for him to chase. The dog wasn’t so great about bringing it back.

It was a good minute before her father answered, but the silence wasn’t awkward. “It was fate, I’m sure. I stopped to get water while she happened to be sitting by the creek crying.”

“Crying? What was wrong?”

“She was newly married and unhappy. She didn’t tell me that day, but later I found out that she’d gotten her courses and the McCurdy wasn’t pleased about it.”

“He wasn’t pleased about many things,” Dorie agreed with a frown as she remembered the man she’d thought was her father. In the early years, he’d offered a smile here and there to her. Occasionally he’d pull her onto his lap and chat with her as if she had great things to share. But most of the time he was too busy for a daughter. Instead, he gave all his attention to Wallace.

“I planned to see her safely back to her home, but she looked at me with eyes the color of moss in the spring, and I was struck. I’d always thought myself honorable. But I fell in love with a married woman. I didn’t care about the consequences. All that mattered was her.”

“And you saw her again?”

His cheeks turned pink and the blush moved up to the tips of his ears. “Every chance I could.”

Dorie thought she understood what he wasn’t saying. She and Bryce had been seeing a lot of each other over the last few months. And they weren’t even in love.

“Eventually my regiment was called away and I was forced to leave her. But not before I made her promise to write me. We’d talked of running away together. We exchanged letters through her sister so the laird wouldn’t find out. For a decade we went on with nothing between us but words on a page. The letters were all the same. Me begging her to meet me, and her telling me she couldn’t yet. She wanted to come to me as a free woman so we could be wed, so she was waiting for the laird to die.”

Dorie wished it had been the laird who had died. Not that Wallace would have been much better, but at least she and her mother could have left to live with her real father. They might have been happy.

“I was willing to wait for her, only because she never told me about you. I would have come immediately if I’d known we shared a child. When I found myself strapped with a title, our plans changed. I needed to marry for duty. I thought perhaps that was why she’d stopped writing. I didn’t blame her.”

He let out a breath and frowned at the stick Rascal had returned to him.

“Eventually your aunt wrote to tell me she had died.”

“She didn’t die,” Dorie said, taking a breath. She could only hope her father wouldn’t hate her for what she needed to tell him next, but she had to confess. “She was killed, and it was all my fault.”

She spilled the entire story and waited for her father’s anger. If it hadn’t been for Dorie, her mother might have, one day, been able to leave and join him.

Dorie knew the reason her mother had never left in all the years Dorien had begged her to run away with him. The laird would have hunted her down if she’d taken Dorie. At least as long as he believed her to be his child. Dorie’s mother never would have left her. Not even to spend her life with her true love.

The familiar guilt washed over Dorie, nearly drowning her.

“I’m so sorry. I’m the reason you weren’t able to be together.”

“Shhh. It’s not your fault. Sometimes things don’t work out the way one thinks they should. I got married to a wonderful woman. We have four children that have brought joy to my life.”

“But it’s not the same as having someone you love, as you did my mother.”

He frowned and shook his head. “I will not lie to you. I still think of your mother every day. I miss her as I would miss a limb or a part of my heart. Having you in my life eases some of that pain. It’s like having a part of her. A part of us.”

“But your wife? Isn’t she upset that you have a child with another woman?” Dorie couldn’t bring herself to say the word bastard, though that was what she was.

His smile seemed strained. “It wasn’t a love match, at least not for me. We respect one another and I care for her deeply. She actually encouraged me to come here when I told her of you.”

“She loves you?” Dorie guessed.

“I think so, yes.” He frowned, and Dorie assumed he felt guilty that he wasn’t able to love her back.

She felt a wave of sympathy for the woman. Dorie had been trying so hard not to expect anything from Bryce. She’d done her best to protect her heart, knowing he couldn’t offer her anything in return but a warm bed. But she loved him. And it hurt to know he didn’t love her back.

“I understand,” she said. “Not what you’re feeling, but what your wife is. I’m in love with a man who canna love me the way you loved my mother. He gave his heart to his first wife and their child. When they died, they took his heart with them. There’s nothing left for me.”

“I hate that I cannot feel for Harriet the way I felt for your mother. It’s just the way of things, I guess. I don’t want that for you. I don’t want you to have to settle for the fragments of someone’s broken heart.”

“At times I think perhaps it’s not important, that maybe I could love him enough for both of us. But I do wonder what it would be like to have more.” She shook her head. “He treats me well enough. Being here at Dunardry is better than I ever expected. Much better than my life with the McCurdys.”

“Well enough is not what I want for my daughter,” he said, his brows pulling together as he threw the stick for her dog. “I wish you to be happy.”

She understood his displeasure but didn’t think there was anything to be done. She was married to Bryce. It didn’t matter if her father liked it or not, it was legal and consummated.

“Tell me about my sisters and brothers,” she said to change the topic.

A proud smile pulled up on his face and he told her about all of them. The oldest, Philip, was nine. Nadia was seven. The twins, Geneva and George, only five.

“Geneva looks like you. Like me.” He smiled. His eyes went wide. “Perhaps you could return to England to meet them. We’re staying at my estate right now.”

“I couldn’t. They would hate me.”

He chuckled. “They wouldn’t hate you. They’d be surprised, yes, but they would give you a chance. I’m sure you would become great friends with all of them.”

“But I would disgrace you. I’m illegitimate. And Scottish.” She added the last part when he didn’t seem deterred by the first.

Again he chuckled. “I’m not sure there’s a member of the peerage who doesn’t have illegitimate issue. As far as being Scottish, it’s not a crime.”

It might not be, but Marian had told her stories of how the English treated Scots. Mari even sounded English, and they’d still teased her about her accent.

“I’m married,” she reminded him. “I belong here.”

He nodded and let it drop. They returned to the keep for supper and the laird kept her father’s attention for most of the meal.

Bryce didn’t say much as they ate. Now that she knew how she felt about him, it was difficult to look him in the eye. She feared he might see her affection when he looked at her.

He’d warned her he couldn’t give her more, and she’d foolishly fallen for him anyway. She couldn’t let him find out.

…

That night when Bryce came to bed, Dorie was in bed staring at the ceiling. She’d hardly said a word at dinner. And now he noticed she wasn’t able to look at him.

There was a time when he would wonder what she was thinking, but time had cured him of patience so he sat on the bed and took off his boots before turning to her and asking directly, “What’s the matter?”

Her eyes darted toward him quickly and away again. “I’m just trying to grasp the fact that I have family again. A father. It’s wonderful.”

“Aye. But it doesn’t explain why you refuse to look me in the eye. Or why you’re so quiet.”

She let out a breath and bit her bottom lip for a moment. If she didn’t look so serious, he might have considered leaning over to take a nibble for himself, but he refrained, waiting for her to gather her courage to tell him what was bothering her.

“My father was in love with my mother. Gave his heart to her. He’s married now, but it’s clear he doesn’t feel anything but respect and friendship for my stepmother, even though she loves him.”

“I see.” Bryce didn’t say anything for a moment. He wasn’t sure what to say. She was obviously making comparisons between him and her father. Did that mean she and her stepmother had something in common as well? Was Dorie telling him she was in love with a man who didn’t love her back?

Part of him wanted to yell and remind her of all the times he’d warned her of such action. But he knew how love worked. It didn’t always do what one wished. If it did, he would have forced himself to stop feeling for Maggie so it wouldn’t hurt so much.

“What are you saying?” he asked, hoping he’d misunderstood.

“I’m not saying anything. Good night.” She turned away from him.

Rather than force her to tell him something he didn’t think he’d bear hearing, he blew out the light and tossed and turned the whole night.

He shouldn’t feel guilty. He’d told her it wasn’t possible for him to be a real husband to her. Not in that way. But he should have known she might form an attachment if he slept with her.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered before giving up on sleep and going to pace the battlements.

He wasn’t the only one having difficulty sleeping. Cam was also there trying to calm a screaming Aiden.

“What seems to be the problem?” Bryce asked as he tapped the baby’s chin, who paused in his crying for a moment before letting out a loud wail.

“His belly hurts him and he wants all the world to know about it.”

“Poor lad.”

“Did he wake you?”

“Nay. I have my own pains to fuss about.” Bryce leaned over the wall to look down into the bailey. A few months ago he’d wished himself able to take the next step. Odd that now he had no desire to leave this life. The pain was still there, but it was not as sharp as it once had been. His life was not as grim. Not with Dorie in it to bring him pleasure and laughter.

“I can offer you a pat on the back. However it doesn’t appear to be working for this little one, so you might find any comfort lacking on my part,” Cam said.

Bryce nodded and let out a breath.

“If you’re not interested in a pat, I could listen to your fussing. I’ve already heard everything this lad has to share.”

Bryce didn’t want to talk. He’d come up to the battlements for a bit of quiet and to be alone, so it was a surprise when he opened his mouth and told Cam what was on his mind.

“I fear Dorie has come to expect more from this marriage than I can give.”

“You mean love?”

“Aye. I warned her from the first day not to get attached, for it could only lead to disappointment.”

“Ah. So it’s the lass’s fault she feels something for you. Despite you treating her like a real wife in every way. Laughing with her. Running off to your chamber at any time of day. Worrying over her all the times she was injured by the McCurdys. Buying her gifts as a husband ought to do. It’s her fault she thought she stood a chance to win your heart when it appeared to all of us that she already had.”

“I suppose you want me to argue that it isn’t her fault?”

“Yes, I do. If you wanted to make it clear you’d not be a husband to her, you should have kept your distance.”

“I tried. But the bloody McCurdys burned down her cottage!” he defended.

“When you moved her to your room, there wasn’t any other place you might have slept?” His brows went up and Bryce was thankful for the darkness so not to see the full expression of challenge.

Bryce preferred to stay wrapped up in his denial. It was easier to claim he wasn’t at fault that way. “What do I do?”

“Let yourself love her back, and be happy.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Can’t or won’t?” Cam pushed. Aiden quieted as if he wanted to hear the answer as well.

“I can’t remember the sound of Maggie’s voice or her smell. Sometimes I can’t even recall her face. It’s even worse for Isabel. I had so little time with her. The memory was almost too short to grasp. Dorie is taking up the space where those memories had been, and I hate her for it as much as I’m relieved not to have to feel the pain so intensely. It’s not right.”

“It’s the way of things. I remember when I first moved to the castle after my mother died, and how I didn’t want to let Lach’s parents care for me because it felt like I was betraying my own parents if I cared for them. But I realized it wasn’t true. Sometimes we imagine things because of the pain we’re dealing with at the time. You’ve been in yours for so long it might take you longer to realize it’s not a betrayal to Maggie and Isabel for you to be happy with Dorie.”

Bryce was quick to shake his head. He even squeezed his eyes shut as if to block out Cam’s words.

“You’re allowed to be happy, Bryce. You’re even allowed to love again. It doesn’t mean you loved Maggie and Isabel any less while they were alive.”

Fortunately, Aiden picked that time to let loose with another scream of displeasure, so they were able to focus their attentions on the baby instead of the impossibility of Bryce ever opening himself up to that kind of pain again.

He needed to keep his walls of protection firmly in place.