Page 87 of Her Reluctant Highlander Husband

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Bryce frowned at his father as the man slurred a sloppy invitation to one of the serving maids. It was clear from her frown the lass was used to dodging the man’s advances.

“Leave her be, you sot,” Bryce ordered. “I can’t imagine how you would forget you’re married, having done it so many times.”

Thomas snorted and shook his head before taking another swallow of ale. “I keep trying to get it back,” he said.

“Get what back?”

“The way I felt with your mother. She was the one. The others were simply ways to forget how much I love and miss her.”

Bryce swallowed, hating that he and his father had anything in common. “Do you remember Ma’s smile or her laugh?”

The man’s eyes grew watery as he shook his head. “Nay. It’s lost to the years.” He slammed his hand on the table. Drink was known to make men more emotional, but it was clear his father still hurt for Bryce’s mother. They’d come up with two complete opposite ways to cope with their grief.

Except Bryce’s form of grief didn’t hurt anyone. Except Dorie. And himself. Still… “It doesn’t seem fair to your other wives.” While he spoke of his father’s situation, he knew he was referring to his own relationship with Dorie. It wasn’t fair to want her when he couldn’t love her fully. She deserved more, and he hoped she’d found it in England.

The ale tasted bitter when he swallowed. Or perhaps it was that he wasn’t truly happy for Dorie. He just needed a little more time.

He’d done the right thing to let her go. To sign the annulment so she would be free to find a man who could love her the way she ought to be loved.

“It wasn’t fair to you, either.” His father’s head fell closer to his chest. It wouldn’t be long before he would be asleep until late the next morning.

Bryce might get an honest answer from him, if he only dared to ask. “What wasn’t fair to me?”

“I sent you away so I wouldn’t have to look at you. Seeing you reminded me too much of her. You have her coloring and her heart. I couldn’t stand it. So I sent you away so you wouldn’t be a constant reminder.”

The man was right about the coloring. Bryce had his mother’s fair hair and green eyes. But he didn’t have her heart. Maybe at one time he did, but not anymore.

He didn’t have a heart at all.

And he’d sent Dorie away because she’d made him feel again when he hadn’t thought it possible. She’d made him laugh and smile. She’d made him want and need.

And then she’d left him.

No. She hadn’t left.

He’d sent her away.

Maybe he was his father’s son, after all.

…

Bryce managed a visit with Walter the next morning. The man was well and spoke of his daughter with a fond smile rather than heart-crushing pain. Bryce wondered how he managed it, but didn’t ask.

While he was with Walter, he’d received word the laird was attending to clan business today, so Bryce headed up to the castle. He hoped to be on his way home directly after delivering his message and securing an alliance with the laird. He wanted to get home. He had a battle to prepare for. His men were ready, but they would run through drills until the day before they left.

An older woman carrying a basket out of a cottage stumbled and dropped her load as he made his way up the path. He stopped to help her gather her things. She looked up to thank him, but the smile fell from her face, and she gasped in surprise.

Bryce recognized her but couldn’t place where he knew her from. Had she been one of his mother’s friends? “Do I know you?” he asked politely.

After looking over her shoulder as if for a place to flee, she frowned and nodded. “I’m Rebecca MacKinlay.”

Her name brought back the memory in a rush. The reason he hadn’t recognized her immediately was because he was trying to place her here with the Campbells where she didn’t belong. “You lived next door to…” He swallowed and forced the name out. “Maggie and me.”

“Aye.”

He hadn’t known what happened to the woman. Hadn’t known what happened to anyone in those months and years after his wife and child had died. He’d folded into his grief and hadn’t come out for a long time. Hadn’t wanted to come out. Not until a shy, lanky lass dragged him out.