Page 89 of Hard-Hearted Highlander
“Theydied,” Ualan muttered to his sister in Gaelic. “They didn’t go away.”
Rabbie swallowed. “Aye, they died,” he softly agreed. He swallowed again, hard. What he was thinking was utter madness. He’d only just come out of the dark—how could he possibly be thinking what was in his heart? And yet, Rabbie blurted it all the same. “I’ve been thinking...we might have a family yet, the three of us.”
Fiona’s eyes widened with surprise and she looked at her brother.
“What I mean,” Rabbie said, pausing to draw a breath, “is that you might come to live with me at Arrandale. Would you like that?”
Fiona could scarcely contain her delight. But Ualan, the studious lad that he was, remained skeptical. “We’re to go to Inverness,” he pointed out.
“Aye, but we can change that. Would you rather go to a stranger? Or would you rather remain in the Highlands, with me?”
“I want to stay!” Fiona said.
Ualan eyed him skeptically. “Only three of us?”
“Only three of us,” Rabbie confirmed. He’d made up his mind. No matter what else, these two children needed him as much as he needed them.
“But what of Barabel?” Fiona asked.
Rabbie smiled. “We’ll visit often.”
Fiona began to bounce on her toes. “I want to live with you. What is your name?”
“Rabbie, lass. Uncle Rabbie.”
Ualan still hadn’t said anything, and Rabbie looked at him, lifting his brow in a silent question.
“Only three of us?” Ualan asked again. “That’s not a very big family.”
“No. Sometimes, families are rather small. But maybe—maybe there will be four.” He shrugged.
“Who?” Ualan persisted.
“Och,but you’re a shrewd lad,” Rabbie said, and told them about Bernadette and how he’d lost her family, too.
* * *
THETHREEOFthem made the journey to Killeaven the next day. It was a bit of a slow go, as Rabbie could not ride with two children before him, and instead pulled them along in a cart behind his mount. Fiona chattered as they went along, her speech broken between Gaelic and English, the rush of words amazingly ceaseless.
Ualan remained silent. He’d been receptive to Rabbie’s suggestion—perhaps because Rabbie had finally described it as an adventure for him—but he remained reticent. Ualan was eight years old now, with very few memories of his family. But perhaps far too many memories of being an orphan in an old woman’s care. He did not come easily around to trusting adults, Rabbie noted.
When they reached Killeaven, Niall MacDonald walked out to greet them. “What’s this, then?” he asked, grinning at the children. “Have you brought us guards?”
Rabbie smiled. “Is Miss Holly about?”
“I’ve no’ seen her, no,” Niall said. “Only the footman.”
“Summon him, then.”
The footman appeared at the door in an apron and was wiping his hands on the hem of it as he walked out of the house. His gaze slid to the children, then to Rabbie. “Good day, sir.”
“Aye, good day. I’d like a word with Miss Holly, then, if you will summon her.”
“Miss Holly is unwell,” the man said, and dropped his apron, peering at Rabbie curiously.
“Summon her all the same,” Rabbie said. “It’s a matter of some importance, aye?”
“Very well,” he said, and invited them to wait in the salon.
