Laird of Ballanclaire (31 page)

Constant opened her eyes. The three maids were still standing in a row watching her. They looked about her age, and as innocent as she’d been before she met Kameron. They all had smiles pasted to their faces, and the same look of envy and awe. Constant whirled back to the mirrors. She’d rather watch her own reflection.

Through her mirrors, she could see the other side of the Queen’s Room. Benches were set up against a wall covered ceiling to floor with dark red tapestries, seeming to frame an ornate door; the one that led to Kameron’s chamber.

She winced. She’d spent so long preparing for this moment, but it tasted bitter, rather like the aftertaste of old tea in her mouth. She watched Lucilla come back into the room.

“You are ready to continue?” Lucilla asked.

“Do I have a choice?” Constant blinked. She wasn’t going to cry. She’d vowed it. It wasn’t working.

“You must not cry,
señora
. What will your maids think? They believe in love at first sight. You must not ruin it.”

“
Sí
,” she whispered, lifting a fingernail to whisk moisture away from her eye before it damaged the kohl.

“I have it on good authority that His Lordship is acting like a caged tiger. He is raging. He is ready. He growls at anyone who crosses his path. He has banned everyone from this wing of the house for the entire night. We must hurry. We must not make him wait longer.”

Constant wiped at her other eye, blinked, and wiped again.

“These tears? They are silly.”

“I can’t help the way I feel, Lucilla. I am very close to weeping, and you call me . . . silly.” Her voice cracked on the last word.

“Within a minute of enwrapping you in his arms, that man will know the truth. He’ll be ecstatic. He has mourned you for a year. Twelve months! The only thing he lived for were his children.”

“How do you know this?”

“I have heard them talking of it, of course.”

“Then why didn’t you speak of it before?”

“Because I didn’t think it needed saying. The man is about to have his every dream fulfilled, and you cry. Here.” She handed Constant a handkerchief. “Dab lightly. At the corners. It will not do so much damage that way. I learned this from working for the Countess Esmerelda. That woman could cry. Now turn. We must hurry. His Lordship will be breaking down the door if we do not finish quickly. I have been so warned. All of us have. You should have seen Sir San Simeon run the moment he had possession of your dress.”

“I must not keep you, then.” Constant turned her back to them.

“Keep us? We are trying to get you ready for your husband, who from all descriptions will be upon us momentarily, and you call it keeping us? I will wash my hands of you yet, you know.”

“Hurry then. Wrap me up all nice and pretty, so I may flaunt myself for my rutting boar of a husband. Go ahead.”

“You will need to work on your sarcasm, my lady. I must warn you of it in advance.” She turned to the other servant girls and spoke in her Spanish-accented English. “Do not stand there. Accept this, and this. You! Bring the gown.”

Constant set her lips and watched her transformation from an elegant, wealthy, pristine princess into a seductive siren. The blue sheen of her negligee filmed her body, leaving little to the imagination. Nor was the excuse of a robe much better. That piece of clothing weighed almost nothing.

The silver hairnetting came off last. Lucilla unclasped each hook of it, pulled it gently from her hair, and then brushed it out. Although saturated with ink, the strands were still unruly and thick, brushing the base of her spine before she moved sections over her shoulders to cover her bosom.

“You are very beautiful. He will not be disappointed. We go now.”

“Wait!” Constant stopped Lucilla at the door of the antechamber.

“What is it,
ma princesa
?”

Constant dabbed at the outer corners of her eyes. It still wasn’t working. She was about to be with the man she’d love forever, the man she’d given absolutely everything away for, and it hurt too much to consider. “Bring me Geoffrey,” she whispered.

“Are you crazed?” the maid answered, finally losing a bit of her even tone.

“I need my son. Now. Right now.”

“You need another mind, for you have lost yours!”

“If you don’t bring him, I’ll wrap up in a cloak and search out the nursery myself. Think of the gossip that would cause.”

“
Madre de Dios!
You are mad. A man of great passion is coming for you, and you think to bring an infant into the bedchamber?”

“I need to be loved for myself! Right now. That is what I need. I need my son. Now. Only for a moment. Then you can take him away. If you will not bring him, we can all suffer the consequence. Gossip. Whispers. Intrigues.” Constant walked over to the boudoir door, preparatory to getting her cloak. She had the knob in her hand before Lucilla answered.

“Very well. I will do as you command. I will not take responsibility for what happens. You make an excellent princess.”

Constant felt the door close. The silence and emptiness of the immense chamber surrounded her, seeming to possess a personality of its own. Her shoulders slumped, her hands shook, and she buried her face in the handkerchief. She was absolutely amazed she wasn’t weeping.

She felt, rather than heard, the door open.

“You’ve been quick, Lucilla,” she commented without turning around. “That is good. Was he sleeping?”

“I don’t speak Spanish, love,” Kameron replied, just before he reached her.

“Oh God. Oh, dearest God. Oh God.”

Kameron grabbed her to him, enfolded her with those wondrous arms of his, lifting her off the floor, and he was shaking. Then she saw why—he was weeping. Constant’s eyes were huge.

“Oh, love. My dearest love. Constant. ’Tis a miracle, and I canna’ believe it. I still canna’. Oh, thank you, God. I have been on my knees renewing my faith, and ’tis na’ enough. Thank you, God!”

He lifted his head then, blinked moisture away, and Constant had never seen anything to compare as his eyes met hers from a distance of less than two inches. He was gazing with absolute adoration and he was absolutely still.

“Kameron?” she whispered.

“Oh, my dearest love. My Constant. Mine. I still canna’ believe it. I canna’.”

“You . . . know who I am?” she whispered.

Little lines creased as he smiled. Then he was grinning. Then his mouth was on hers and there wasn’t a thought allowed. The moan that surged through them didn’t come wholly from her throat, or from his, and it had a timbre to it that made her tremble.

Kam raised his head. He wasn’t gazing adoringly at her any longer. He was angry. He was intense. His eyes were changing a darker shade, too.

“How dare you doubt me! Jesu’! I portrayed myself as a lecherous ass for you—and you thought it real? I have never spanked you, Constant, but I am verra near it at the moment. Verra near.”

“You were playacting?” she asked.

“Of course I was playacting! And thankful to have pulled it off. Here I suspected my lying abilities had waned, and yet you believed me? I’m actually impressed at myself. What a position you put me in.”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“What?” His surprise was genuine. His eyes widened and no longer looked black; they were exactly the golden brown she loved. “You’ve just pulled off a major coup and yet say you did naught?”

“I didn’t do it alone.”

“Lord, doona’ I ken that! I nearly throttled Blair when I ran into him.”

“You mean . . . Carlos?”

“Whatever he goes by, I recognized him.”

“Him? But. . . not me?”

“I dinna’ look at you. I had little choice with Blair. I mean Carlos. He accosted me at the stables, grabbed my bridle, and made me look at him. And then he spouted streams of words at me as if I’d understand.”

“The stables? You were . . . leaving?”

“I was leaving. And who comes running out to stop me, grinning like an idiot? Barrister Blair. I mean Carlos. Montoya, right? His new identity will take some practice, love. As will the man. He’s trimmed down, dressed in some god-awful Spanish getup, and sporting a curled, black wig? Good Lord. He’s almost perfect.”

“But I gave you a blue ribbon.”

“Nae. The Princess Althea Esmerelda something-or-other gave me a
key
attached to a blue ribbon. That could have been coincidental. She might like blue. Who cares what she likes and what she hands me? I have hated her since I was in dresses. And Constant, women have been handing me keys for years! You knew that! How was I to guess it was you? Well?”

“I—” she began, but he interrupted.

“You left me. You died. I was beset with grief. You’ve nae idea. I could na’ eat, I could na’ sleep. Good thing my guards were strong. They tied me into my berth aboard ship to keep me from throwing myself overboard. And then they brought me the bairns. Smart men. You might have recognized some of them.”

“From where?”

“My honor guardsmen. Earlier.”

“All I saw was you, Kameron.”

He somehow wrapped his arms even tighter about her. Squeezing. Holding. Protecting.

“I dinna’ see much either. I was seeing red. Literally. My own father kidnapped my bairns to use against me? I was ready to throttle the man. You have nae idea.”

“Yes, I do. I was there, remember?”

“I doona’ remember much of that meeting. I gave an ultimatum to my sire. I took your gift. I left. I had to find my bairns.”

“You found them?”

“’Twas na’ difficult. That Abigail is a handful. Make that an armful.”

“Is she . . . walking?” Constant asked.

“She skipped that and went right to running. Benjamin has a bit more sense, but he’ll still tag along wherever she leads him. It requires three nurses to watch them. All I had to do was look for the most commotion. Father thought to hide them in the creamery. That was na’ smart. He lost all of last sennight’s creams and curds to her curiosity.”

“You have them? Truly?”

“I already said as much to the duke. Were you na’ listening?”

“Can I see them?”

“Afraid na’. Right at the moment, anyway.”

“But—” Constant began again.

“Sorry, love. I could na’ risk another kidnapping. I sent them, under guard, back to where they’ll be safe now. ’Tis a place I may have mentioned. Pitcairn Tower.”

She nodded.

“It’s mine. Always was. Grandmother’s endowment, or something along that line. Why do you think I went there the moment we docked?”

“I’ve met your parents. That’s easy to answer.”

“You’d be wrong. I’d have liked nothing more than to spit in their faces. But I had to hide and recover first. It took longer than I expected. In fact, I dinna’ manage it. I was na’ capable of returning to my public duties because I was na’ capable of even moving from my chamber. You doona’ ken what it’s like. Grief saps your will, making it difficult to face each day, because the damned sunlight does na’ even feel warm anymore. Naught does.”

“Oh, Kameron, I’m so sorry. They were supposed to tell you.”

“Oh, I heard that part. Blair says a lot when you’re na’ squeezing his throat. I mean Carlos.”

Constant’s eyes widened. “You actually squeezed his throat?”

“I already said as much. He was alive and you weren’t? He’s lucky he finally decided to speak English. Rapidlike. Whispered. I’ll rehire him when he forgives me—if he forgives me.”

“That shouldn’t be an issue. He’s married to my maid, Lucilla.”

“What? Has the entire world gone mad?” Kam asked.

“So, tell me. How are they? What are they like?”

“Your maid and Carlos? Who cares?” He was nuzzling his lips along her throat, and the words sounded indistinct and strange.

“Our babies.”

“Oh. They’re safe. They’re on their way to Pitcairn Tower. I already said as much. Why are you wearing so much?”

Constant watched as he looked down at where her breasts were crushed against his chest.

“I’m barely dressed, Kameron.”

“You’ve got material on. That translates to you’re wearing too much. You have nae idea of the constant aspect of my desire at the moment. I have na’ so much as looked at another woman—I couldn’t. And then you show up? Out of the clear blue sky? I’m surprised I dinna’ go with my first inclination once I learned.”

“What was that?”

“What was it? Getting to you. Ignoring everyone in my line of sight and in my path, and just getting to you. What else? Blair stopped me. As I said, he talks fast. Made sense. I could hardly stalk across the room, haul you from the chair, and sing aloud to everyone that it was my own Constant returned from the grave, now could I?”

“You could have given me some sign,” she complained.

“As poorly as you lie? Darling. Please. I daren’t allow even a hint of intrigue. And that meant I had to lie. Better than ever afore. I had to enact a ‘love at first sight’ scenario. Believably. Perfectly. So . . . I prepared. Took a dip in the loch. Dressed in my finery. Blair assisted. I mean, Carlos. I must remember to call him that. And then I was readied. But nae. The first sight of you almost undid me. I
had
to keep my distance. I forced it. I paced myself. I had to traverse the bloody room, ignore everyone and everything in my path, and try to keep under control before I dared get close to you! It was pure torment. Why do you think it took me a bloody hour to approach you?”

“It was crowded,” Constant answered.

“The hell you say.” He grinned. Then he was kissing her again. When the room began to spin, Constant was scarcely aware that Kameron had lifted her and was twirling with her in his arms.

“Oh love! ’Tis a miracle! There are nae thanks vast enough. We’ve an entire lifetime together, and all because of some plan I was na’ even told about. I still canna’ believe it. You’re here. You’re
alive
. You’re in my arms, and you’re my princess wife to top it off. Nothing and nobody can take that away from me. No one can change it. You’re mine. Forever.”

“I always knew that,” she replied.

“Get this bloody gown off, love, or I’ll na’ be responsible for my actions. Bother that. We’ll replace it.”

He had her atop the bed, and the gossamer fabric separated in his fingers before Constant could answer him.

“I love you, Constant. More than I can say. Or show. And naught is ever coming between us. Nothing. Ever. I promise it. You ken?”

She nodded. It was all she was capable of, since he was opening his own robe, splicing the top wide . . . and then, he stilled. She heard the door opening, too.

“Well, I have brought the child. I still think it the stupidest idea you have had yet—oh!”

It was Lucilla. She was holding Geoffrey, and she was staring openmouthed at the picture that was before her. Constant was grateful Kam hadn’t finished opening his robe. If she were the old Constant, she’d have been beet red with the blush, too.

“Bring him here, Lucilla. I’ll take him.”

“I think I’d better bear him back to the nursery until later. That is what I think.”

“Bring him here. I’ll get him back to you momentarily. You may wait in the antechamber.”

“I believe I’ll wait in the hall . . . thank you very much.”

She put the baby on the edge of the bed and backed away, because Kam was scowling at her. Constant held her negligee together with one hand as she sat and reached for Geoffrey.

“I doona’ speak Spanish, Constant, and you’d better have a verra good reason for this disruption. And I mean verra.”

“This is Geoffrey, Kameron. As I recall, that is one of your names.”

“What of it?”

“Don’t you think he’s beautiful?” she asked, unwrapping the swaddling in order to show him off. Geoffrey was awake, sucking on a fist, and kicking. He was also sporting the same blue-black hair his mother claimed, although his was in a tuft at his forehead.

“It’s the bairn from the nursery. I saw it earlier. I’m fair certain I mentioned it at the fest. I dinna’ have time for a bairn then, and I certainly doona’ now. Send it back. Immediately.”

“He’s known as my godchild, Kameron. He’s three months old. What do you see?”

“A healthy-looking bairn. Will you send for the maid now?”

“He has light brown eyes.”

“So?” Kameron looked at the baby, then back at her.

“They’re golden brown. See?” She lifted her son to face his father and watched as Kam’s eyes widened.

“But he has black hair,” he said, his voice unsure.

“I have black hair, too,” she replied.

Kam plucked Geoffrey from her and held him inches away to examine him. The baby quit kicking, but he was furiously sucking on both fists now. Constant watched as the knowledge dawned. Then Kam was looking at her with such round eyes, she could see white all about the golden brown.

“We have another bairn?” he choked out.

She nodded.

“Oh my God,” he replied. Constant had her hands out to catch the baby as Kam slumped onto the mattress beside her. She needn’t have worried. Kameron was as sure as he’d always been. Then he was unwrapping and examining their son. Constant watched as Geoffrey and his father eyed each other and then Kam looked over at her.

“He’s a lad,” Kam said finally.

“Yes. I know.”

“Good heavens, Constant! I touched you once, we have twins. I touched you twice, we have a son. This does not bode well for the size of Pitcairn Tower’s nurseries. We’ll have to enlarge them.”

“BalClaire . . . looks large enough,” she replied, and held her breath.

“This mausoleum? You jest. Please say you jest.”

Kameron lifted Geoffrey with an arm and cuddled him against his chest. Bare skin to bare skin. Without thought. Without even looking. Constant thought her heart might burst with every beat.

“I think it’s a grand place, Kam. Worthy of a Highland chieftain. You. I wouldn’t take that from you. Ever. I think BalClaire is part of you.”

“’Tis cold. Austere. Brooding. Full of ghosts and tortures.”

“I think it’s awe-inspiring. Massive. Permanent. And yours. It’s your heritage, Kam. And I think it’s beautiful. It’s just missing something.”

“Aye. A heart.”

“You. Us. The babies. And love.”

“You make a grand argument, my lady wife. And I’ll bend. I’ll consider it. Once I’m duke. Fair enough?”

“I love you, Kam. You’ve no idea how much.”

“I’ve a fairly good idea, I think. I mean, look. You reinvented yourself for me.”

Constant giggled.

“I canna’ continue to call you Constant, though. We’ll be whispered of. The best lies are the ones that have no telltale loose ends. You ken?”

“One of my names is Consuelo. You should know that already.”

“Why, when I hated everything about my princess wife-to-be? Consuelo? I can call you Connie, then?” Kameron looked to the ceiling again. “Thank you again, God!”

“If you’ll give me Geoffrey, I’ll take him back to Lucilla,” Constant offered, putting out her hands. He looked down as if surprised at the babe against his heart.

“He’s verra healthy, Connie. Are you nursing him?”

“And risk exposure? I wanted to. I couldn’t. He has a wet nurse. She’s probably awaiting him.”

“I canna’ believe this day.” Kameron put the baby back in his swaddling and started rewrapping, demonstrating agility at it as he continued speaking. “My bairns are kidnapped. I find my father is behind it. I then learn it’s because of my princess wife, who has been chasing me down. She will not leave me alone, although I’ve given every indication I do not want to see her. Then, I find out she’s my beloved Constant. Now, I discover that I have another son and heir?”