Page 125 of Kidnapped by a Rogue
“The herbal tincture would have stopped the bleeding,” she said, “but he forced me to leave before it could do much good.”
Finn wanted to throw a chair against the wall as she described how she had ridden in the back of a horse cart, bleeding and with the storm pelting her face. If he did not have to leave her to do it, he would ride right now to her former husband’s castle and put a blade through his black heart.
“I survived the sea cave and Girnigoe Castle,” she said. “And Una is a gifted midwife, ye said so yourself. The babe and I will be just fine.”
“Aye, ye will,” Finn said, because he did not want her to worry, and he needed it to be true.
But he was terrified.
###
Several months later...
Margaret stood on the shore in front of Dunrobin Castle with her husband and daughter watching two boats on the horizon.
“Alex is sailing home on one of those boats,” Finn said, leaning down to point them out to Ella.
“Alex! Alex!” Ella shouted, dancing from foot to foot.
Finn put his arm around Margaret’s shoulders and rested a protective hand on her swollen belly. “This reminds me,” he said, “of when we sailed across the firth and landed on this beach.”
“And you tried to make me look like a tavern wench,” Margaret said with a laugh.
“I had no notion how you’d change my life and bring me so much happiness,” Finn said, and nuzzled her neck.
Margaret sighed and leaned back against him.
“I don’t know why the Earl of Moray felt he had to bring Alex himself,” Finn said. “I assured him it was safe for Alex to return to Dunrobin, and I sent twenty warriors to escort him here from Huntly.”
With his uncle dead, the men of Sutherland had turned to Finn to lead them in the fight against the Sinclairs. First, Finn captured Dunrobin, just as his father Robin Sutherland had done years before. Then, under his leadership, the combined forces of the Sutherlands, Gordons and Murrays pushed the Sinclairs out of Sutherland altogether.
Finn did not do it for his own enrichment, but to protect the ordinary folk of Sutherland—and for Alex, the brother of his heart.
Margaret was worried that Finn had succeeded so well that Moray might have other uses for him. She put her hand over her belly, their miracle child, and prayed that Moray would not interfere with their plans. Once Alex was ready to assume his duties as laird alone, they wanted to set up their own household and keep as much distance as possible from royal politics and power struggles. She still worried that Garty had too many ghosts for her husband, and she wished it was farther away from Edinburgh, but it would do.
“I better go inside before the boats get any closer,” Margaret said.
She had made sure everything was prepared for a visitor of royal blood, but she could not sit in the hall beside her husband to serve as hostess. Moray had seen her too many times at court for Margaret to take the risk that he would recognize her, even in her current, enormous shape. She hoped Moray’s visit would be a short one.
“I’ll take ye in,” Finn said.
“I’m pregnant, not injured,” Margaret said, and kissed his cheek. “I think I can manage to waddle inside all by myself.”
She might tease him about being a wee bit too protective during her pregnancy, but after how little concern the men of her past had shown her, she was grateful to have a husband who was so thoughtful and caring.
“Go rest,m' eudail,” Finn said. “I’ll come up as soon as I can after the feast and my talk with Moray.”
Two hours later, Margaret pressed her fist against her aching back as she walked back and forth across the bedchamber, waiting to hear the outcome of Finn’s meeting with Moray. The feast she had meticulously organized should be over soon, and Finn and Moray would retreat to the laird’s private solar.
When she heard the door latch behind her, she spun around, expecting Finn. Instead, a stunning woman of perhaps forty, dressed in expensive silk brocade that showed her voluptuous figure to advantage, stood in the doorway. Jewels glinted on the woman’s fingers and at her throat, and the emerald green of her gown matched her eyes and set off her famous red hair, which was still striking, despite the streaks of white.
“God’s blood!” The woman’s hand went to her throat. “You’re Margaret Drummond’s niece, the missing Margaret Douglas.”
Margaret hid the panic rising in her throat behind an outward calm. After keeping her identity secret for so long, she had been found out. She knew who her visitor was as well. This was none other than the infamous Lady Janet Douglas, the late king’s mistress. She had not expected the Earl of Moray to bring his mother.
“Ye look so much like your aunt that I thought I’d seen a ghost,” Janet said. “I heard ye bore a strong likeness to her, but the resemblance is rather startling.”
“’Tis best we speak in private,” Margaret said, and closed the door behind Janet before a passing servant overheard her. “Won’t ye sit down?”
