Heart in the Highlands by Heidi Kimball

Chapter Twenty-Seven

After a week of stormy skies and spring rain, Kate was only too glad when the next afternoon revealed rays of sunshine and a walking opportunity Callum insisted they claim. Charlotte’s hand lay nestled in Kate’s as they made their way through the foothills, the verdant grass an emerald carpet beneath their feet after so much rain. The conversation remained light as Charlotte oohed and aahed over the Highland “coos,” picked handfuls of wildflowers, and climbed over the centuries-old dry stone dikes.

“Did you knowed I got some new dresses, Papa?” Charlotte asked after a brief lull. She pointed to her light-blue dress and new gray wool cape. “And Mama got some too,” she said in a loud whisper, like it was a great secret.

“Did she?” Callum asked, turning toward Kate with interest.

Charlotte nodded. “The gold one is my mostest fav’ite.”

Suddenly Charlotte darted forward, heading straight for some grazing sheep on the hill up ahead. Callum laughed aloud as she tumbled down face-first, then got up without so much as a whimper and took off at full speed once more.

Kate winced. “Her blue dress is blue no longer.”

“Och, children were made for getting dirty.”

“I take it your own breeches were stained with grass as a boy?”

“Certainly. And filled with holes besides.”

“Were you a handful then? Full of mischief?” She could imagine him breaking all sorts of rules the way he’d unabashedly broken hers.

His eyes twinkled. “Not so much mischievous as adventurous. I spent every moment I could with my uncle’s family. Helping with lambing and repairing stone fences seemed vastly more interesting than sitting with my tutor for hours on end.” His face darkened. “Which was why my father packed me off tae Eton. He cut me off from my unsavory relatives and had me educated on status and what was expected of me. The fact that I had my brogue beaten out of me was merely a bonus.”

The tightness in his voice tore at her, and she couldn’t help but think of the sorrow she’d seen in his father’s eyes a few days before. Of the way he’d thanked her for bringing Callum home, though his gratitude was unmerited. Suddenly she very much wanted the duke to have a chance for reconciliation with his son.

“Is it possible his intentions were not so despicable as you believe? Many fathers send their boys away to school.”

He scoffed. “His intentions have never been anything but despicable. This is the man who didn’t marry my mother until she carried his child. And even then, it wasn’t to make her respectable.” He puffed out a breath. “It was the only way for him tae have a legitimate heir.”

His candor took her off guard. And the bitterness that candor uncovered . . . frightened Kate a little. She felt as though she knew him, yet there was still much she didn’t know. Would he be this severe if she confronted him with the truth she’d kept from him?

He cut off her worrisome thoughts with a change in topic. “When will I get to see this gold dress of yours?”

She shook her head. “It certainly is not for everyday wear. I’ll save it for a special occasion.”

“Charlotte’s birthday, perhaps?” he asked.

“Perhaps.”

Charlotte’s shout rang out from up ahead. “Uncle Blair!”

Kate remained silent as they closed the distance between them and their daughter. Blair sat on his haunches, showing Charlotte the wide girth of the ewe’s belly. “There’ll be lambs dotting these hills in no time. And they’re friendly, too, the best playmates a bairn like ye could ask for.”

“Papa said I could see one be borned,” she said proudly, still petting the sheep’s woolly back. The contented ewe grazed on the grass, paying Charlotte no mind.

“That so?” Blair asked with a lift of his brow.

Callum nodded. “Aye, so ’tis. Ye’ll have to send word when the time comes.”

“Could be any day now,” Blair said. He rose from his haunches. “Ye should come back with me tae the house. Olivia is visiting for the day with her wee one, if ye’d like to come say hello.”

Callum looked to Kate before giving his assent. He took Charlotte’s hand as they followed Blair up the steep path, inquiring of his uncle about some stonework and how repairs were coming on the fence.

Kate’s mind turned back to the conversation that had ended before it had really begun. Callum’s hatred for his father seemed like a looming thunderstorm, threatening the small rays of sun they had basked in these past few weeks. She watched Callum from behind, his long-legged strides, the careful way he helped Charlotte along. How could someone so full of tenderness be consumed with such hatred? Was he truly capable of loving her—all of her? Or would that bitterness spill out, jeopardizing any chance they had of a future together?

Once they reached the Stewarts’ small croft, Kate’s worries fled in the wake of the warm welcome they received. Aileen wiped her hands on her apron and greeted them while Blair went to the hearth and added a peat brick to the fire. The warmth of the flames slowly chased the spring chill from the room, though it gave the room a smoky haze.

“Callum!” A vaguely familiar woman, heavy with child, threw herself into Callum’s arms. This must be Olivia. Callum held her tightly until a small boy, perhaps two or three, came up from behind and tugged on her dress.

“Mam?” he said in a husky little voice, his thumb tucked into his mouth.

“Tavish, ’tis Callum, my cousin. Or Lord Rowand, as ye should address him.” She took his hand and drew her son forward.

Callum knelt down. “Tavish, ’tis a pleasure to meet ye. Ye are much bigger than I imagined. Are ye . . . seven?” The boy shook his head. “No?” Callum stroked his jaw, pretending to think deeply. “Eight, perhaps?”

Tavish’s rosy cheeks pushed into a smile as he ducked behind his mother’s skirts.

“He’ll be three this summer,” Olivia said.

“I turn four next week,” Charlotte announced proudly, not wanting to be outdone.

Callum got to his feet. “Olivia, this is my daughter, Charlotte. And I’m certain ye remember my wife, Katie.”

Olivia curtsied the best she could in her unwieldy state. “’Course I do.”

Kate stepped forward and returned the curtsy. “I’ll never forget the flowers you gave me on my wedding day. It was very thoughtful of you.”

“’Twas nothing.” Olivia flushed with pleasure. “Charlotte is a beauty. I see so much of ye in her.”

“Thank you,” Kate replied. She felt an immediate kinship with Olivia.

“Are ye saying the beauty could not come from me?” Callum asked in mock affront.

Olivia swatted at him. “Wheesht. Stop fishing for compliments, cousin.”

“Tell me,” Callum said. “Your baby must be coming soon. Some of the heaviest ewes look more comfortable than ye.”

She laughed, rubbing her belly. “I’ve my suspicion about twins, heaven help me. But we’ll know in a month or so.”

At a burst of giggles, they all turned their heads to see Charlotte and Tavish near the hearth, playing with a ball made from old rags. Watching the two of them together brought a little pang to Kate’s heart. What if Callum had never left? What if—? Kate shook away her dreary thoughts, ignoring the guilt that pinched at her heart.

“What are ye doing out this way?” Callum asked Olivia. “Did ye stop in town?”

“Aye, I’m looking for some extra work before the babe comes. ’Twas a hard winter, and soon we’ll have anither mouth tae feed . . . perhaps two.”

Kate lifted her head. “Flora told me the reverend’s wife is looking for some assistance with her laundry. Apparently, they’ve had a steady stream of visitors this spring, and their maid cannot keep up. I’m sure they would be happy to have you for as long as you are able.”

Olivia looked at her, openmouthed. “That’s verra kind of ye tae mention it, Lady Rowand. I’ll inquire richt away.”

“The reverend’s house is not far from Castleton Manor.” Kate blushed a little, feeling Callum’s gaze on her. “Perhaps you’d consider letting Tavish come and spend some time in the nursery so he wouldn’t be underfoot. Look at how well they are getting on.”

Olivia’s gaze drifted toward the two cousins playing by the fire. “Are ye certain? I’ve no wish tae—”

“Very certain,” Kate said, smiling. “And perhaps we could take tea together on occasion when you come to fetch him?” How long had it been since she’d spent time with a woman her own age? Had a friend to call her own?

Olivia shook her head. “Och, I’ve no gowns fit for takin’ tea with a marchioness.”

“Surely anything you wear would be fitting to visit family,” she said softly. “And please, call me Kate.”

Olivia gave a flustered smile and nodded, and Callum’s eyes shone with gratitude and approval.

Soon after, Aileen called for everyone to gather round the table as she served Dundee cakes straight from the oven. The cake itself was light and spongy, textured with dried fruit and almonds, and Kate detected the faintest hint of whisky.

Callum took a bite and let out a sigh. “’Tis heaven. I’ve not had whisky since . . .” He went quiet and then finished, “Well, I haven’t had it in far too long. Thank ye, Aileen. It is good to be back on Scottish soil with the family I love.”

“’Tis good to have ye back,” Olivia said. She motioned toward the hearth, where the rag ball had been discarded. Charlotte sat knee-to-knee with Tavish. She pulled a currant out of the cake and extended it toward him. Tavish pretended to bite her finger as she fed it to him, and then they both collapsed into a fit of giggles before repeating the process.

“Another generation of cousins,” Callum said. He nodded toward Olivia. “And more to come.”

Kate stiffened, expecting a round of questioning about when she and Callum might be adding to their family. Instead Olivia nodded, a wide smile on her face.

“’Tis a blessing to be together again,” Aileen said, and bent to give Callum a kiss on the cheek. “And ye as well,” she said to Kate. Blair nodded firmly.

Kate reveled in the easy camaraderie as everyone talked and joked. She’d always had Grandfather’s love, of course, but she’d never quite experienced anything like this. This laughter-filled atmosphere created by an intimate family with a love so strong that years apart seemed not to have affected it at all.

And for the first time, sitting beside Callum at the rough-hewn table, eating cake and watching Charlotte play with her cousin, Kate felt absolutely certain she had made the right choice in coming back to Scotland.