Page 95 of Conquer the Highlander

But Isadora was exhausted.

“I’m taking the bairns back tae the cottage,” she said, trying to hang on to Niko while picking up her infant basket. “I’ll be…”

She was cut off when Niko burst free and began rushing down the steps of the lists towards his father. Isadora knew she couldn’t catch him, so she didn’t even try. She shouted down to Cam on the arena floor, warning him of the incoming child.

Cam, seeing his firstborn charging towards him, went to intercept the boy. But Niko didn’t want his father; he wanted Brody’s sword. He always wanted Brody’s sword. Brody dutifully handed over the heavy, dull gladius and the child dragged it away, happy.

Even from the lists, the women could see the men down below, smiling at the child who very much wanted to do what his father and his father’s friends were doing. Niko was becoming the mascot for the warriors with his unbridled enthusiasm and glee, and he was well-loved by all.

As Esme watched the little boy among the warriors, Lilia tapped her on the arm.

“Bee,” she said. “Look – ’tis Hugh.”

Esme turned around to see Hugh entering the lists with his wife in tow, the lovely and sweet Fia. Esme immediately stood up, with little Greer on her hip, and made her way up the stairs to them.

“Good morn,” she called, waving at them.

Hugh and Fia caught sight of her and quickly headed in her direction. “Good morn, Bee,” he said. “’Tis a lovely day. How is my grandson?”

Esme beamed. She had truly come to love Hugh and Fia over the past several months, generous and kind people who traveled from Edinburgh at least three times a week to watch Titus fight.

Never had they pressured Titus to be anything other than what he wanted to be, even though he was heir to a substantial dukedom now. They had only expressed their pride in what he was – a great warrior – and they had gone out of the way to support him. It was as if they were making up for lost time, something that had overwhelmed Titus at first because he wasn’t used to having his father around, or any parents for that matter. But both he and Esme had grown to love the pair.

Nowadays, it was as if there had never been any separation at all.

“Your grandson is well.” Esme rubbed her rounded belly. “He keeps me up at night, however. He likes to kick.”

Hugh burst out laughing. “Like his father,” he said. “He is already practicing kicking people in the head.”

Esme giggled. “That is true,” she said, turning her attention to Fia. “Good morn to you, Fia.”

Fia Campbell Stewart, Duchess of Kintyre and Lorne, was a genuinely sweet and docile creature, beautiful to a fault. She looked very much like her son with her dark green eyes and wavy hair, and it was clear where Titus got his comely looks from. They were the proudest parents in Scotland these days, and Esme had been thrilled with their addition to their lives.

It was as marvelous as she could have hoped for.

As she sat with Fia and Hugh, down below on the arena floor, Titus was watching the trio with pride. Every time he saw the three of them, he could hardly believe how rich his life had become.

Rich with love, rich with family.

But he was forced to look away when Cam had him demonstrate an advanced technique to subdue a man without using a weapon, and in this case, it was Galan. After he shoved Galan’s face into the dirt to finish the move, Cam sent his novicius back into the holding area with Christos and Aurelius.

For today, the lesson was over.

“The duke has returned,” Brody said, coming up behind Titus as he looked up to the stands. “The man has barely missed a night in all these months.”

Titus pulled Galan up into a sitting position as the man brushed dirt off his face. “He’s making up for lost time,” he said. “But I dunna mind. We’ve had many long, meaningful discussions and I feel as if I know him well. He’s a good man.”

Brody nodded. He, too, had engaged in a few discussions with Hugh over the past several months and he genuinely liked the man. “I’m curious,” he said. “Does he ever bring up Ambrose?”

Titus shook his head. “Nay,” he said. “He only brought up his widow, once, tae say she’s living a good life now. Her wicked husband and son have vanished without a trace and she’s evidently grateful for it.”

Brody chuckled softly, removing a piece of leather protection he had on his forearm. But his gaze returned to the duke, up in the lists and chatting amiably with Esme.

“Ye told me once that yer da was a rebel,” he said after a moment. “The man doesna look like a rebel tae me.”

Titus grinned. “What does a rebel look like?”

Brody shrugged. “I dunna know,” he said. “I always imagined them tae look like us – barbarians.”