Page 9 of Border Lord’s Bride

Lucius arrived back at the Insleys' cottage a short while later with Hamish Bentner and his wife. The three of them, along with Elizabeth, took turns watching the approach from the border as Jacob reassured his wife that they were safe from harm. If the English chose this moment to attack, Lucius doubted the four of them would have any chance of fending them off. But Jayne didn't need to know that.

After a long and exhausting day of waiting, a soft wail echoed from inside the cottage, followed by a second wail that mixed with a mother's cry of relief.

"Congratulations." Lucius smiled at Jacob as he emerged from the house. Jacob had been at Jayne's side for hours, and the man appeared as tired and worn out as if it were he who'd given birth.

Jacob smiled, and suddenly his tiredness vanished. "Praise the saints," he said, and clapped Lucius on the shoulder, his voice filed with pride. "I'm a father again!"

Instead of sharing in the man's excitement, Lucius paused. "You could have lost her and the baby."

Joy brightened Jacob's eyes. "There's that risk in everything we do, my friend. 'Tis the good things that happen that get us through the bad." His smile widened. "Ye helped make this outcome possible, and I thank ye for that. Good comes in turns, and now it's yer turn fer the good to come yer way."

It was not what Jacob had said, but the passion in his words, that brought a sense of heaviness to Lucius's chest. He deserved good? He didn't believe that.

He deserved to be punished for turning his back on Marcus when his brother needed him most. If only he'd been there when the English had raided. Maybe then… Lucius turned toward his horse, wanting desperately to escape. What? His friend? His own thoughts? His belief that he didn't deserve more than the pain that his life had been filled with?

Fairy tales and happy endings were something he knew a great deal about. His mother had spun a thousand stories in the evenings before the fire for his brothers and sisters, each tale grander and more far-fetched than the last. For years, he'd actually believed his mother's tales.

He'd been a young man of sixteen when reality had hit, and hit hard. He'd fallen in love. He hadn't meant to. It just happened one day while he was walking along the loch with his best friend. In the late afternoon sun, he'd taken her hand, glanced into her eyes, and a thrill he'd never experienced before moved through him—a thrill he felt suddenly was necessary to his life.

He'd meant to tell her how he felt, but the words never seemed to come. He tried to show her, but his actions were thwarted when Marcus intruded and captured his beloved's attention.

Then one dark, dreary morning, he'd seen the truth in his brother's eyes. He'd fallen for the girl as well. A final stab to his heart had been when he'd caught the two of them together in a passionate embrace in the garden. As he watched their betrayal, all of his hopes and dreams shattered. From then on he'd stopped believing in anything good, and he'd run away, just as he was tempted to do now.

But running was no longer possible. His sisters needed him. And he'd learned a hard, cruel lesson: running didn't stop the pain. Instead, it only made it worse. The best he could do was dredge up something to salvage the situation.

Lucius turned back to Jacob with his expression carefully blank. His people needed his help. Perhaps that's where this goodness Jacob prophesied would come into being, but that didn't mean any of it would spill his way. Experience had taught him that dreams of happy endings were a useless waste of time.

"Before we pack up Jayne and the children to take all of you back to Midwick Manor, might I ask you one more thing?" The sound of his voice echoed in the silence of the late-afternoon air. "If things are so good here at Midwick, then why have all the servants deserted us?"

Jacob's face turned solemn. " 'Tis yer uncle who's behind it. He's payin' them twice their yearly salary tae leave and he's a tellin' them stories about how ye changed. That the Templars turned ye into a merciless beast."

Lucius stilled. "Did he approach you?"

Jacob nodded. "I could see past his lies. He's tryin' to hurt ye by takin' away yer help. He's made no secret of the fact he wants the earldom, or that he wants ye out of the way in order tae get it."

Lucius schooled his features into a hard mask, fighting the pain of yet another betrayal. "Horatio expects the law of inheritance to change solely for his purposes?"

Jacob met his gaze. "Don't let yer uncle win this battle. I know ye've got it in ye tae fight. I remember that much from our youth." He rubbed his jaw as though remembering one of the many punches Lucius had landed there during their mock battles.

"Enough of this morbidity. You've got happier things to celebrate. Go prepare your family for travel. I'll get the wagon ready."

"Thank ye, my friend, milord." Jacob took two steps toward the cottage door, then stopped and turned back around. "I meant what I said. Yer a good man. I'll never forget what ye did fer us this day."

At Lucius's nod, Jacob hastened into the cottage, leaving him alone with his thoughts. Fight. Lucius tipped his head back and breathed a heavy sigh. He'd become a fighter for other people's causes over the years. Could he do the same for himself? Could he gather his people and train them in the ways of battle he'd learned with the Templars so they could withstand not only his uncle, but the English as well?

He had ties to the Bentner and Insley clans. Then there were the MacKinleys. Would they join him in this cause? There was only one way to find out. He'd ride for the MacKinleys' land first thing on the morrow.

In the meanwhile, he'd take stock of what weapons and defenses his brother and father had left him. They'd lived on the border between Scotland and England all their lives. Everyone in the borderlands had to be prepared for invasion at any time. There were bound to be defenses they'd gathered in the years he'd been gone.

His sole job now was to see that his sisters and his people were safe.

Lucius frowned. Something bad hovered on the horizon. He'd felt nothing but tension in the air today. Whether that tension came from his uncle or the English, he wasn't certain.

One lesson he'd learned from the Templars, and learned well, was to be prepared for anything.

That was at least something he could focus on to keep his mind from other things.

Elizabeth pulled her cloak more tightly around herself as she stepped outside Midwick Manor. She still felt unsettled even though Jacob, Jayne and the babe, and their young daughter Maybel were now safely tucked into a bedchamber abovestairs. Perhaps a stroll would help relieve the unease that came from her own uncertain future.