Page 28 of Highlander's Secret Heiress
However, Sandrina had never had the chance to live without him, since her life had been cruelly cut short a little while later, but he had somehow managed to suffer life without her. From the moment of her death, Lachlan had imagined a long, empty future stretching ahead of him until his own death, but that had all changed now with the arrival of the new maid.
He wanted Jeannie Dunbar so much that sometimes he found himself standing still, daydreaming about her while theworld went on around him. Gavin had begun to notice this, and Lachlan had no doubt that others had too. Perhaps if he employed a steward and took a few days off he could excuse himself for a while and do some reading, something he never seemed to have time to do.
Maybe he could even begin to teach himself some basic French, since he had always found that it was a useful language to know when buying and selling wine and other products. He would stay away from Jeannie Dunbar—avoid her like the plague.
Out of sight, out of mind,he thought. The less he saw of her, the less he would think of her—or so he hoped.
Lachlan tried to imagine Jeannie being a permanent part of his life. He could not marry her, of course; that would condemn him in the eyes of society. Although he had never really cared what people thought of him, he had to remain on good terms with his neighbours because their livelihoods were intertwined. He also had to think of Davina’s future.
A mistress, then? Lachlan almost laughed out loud at the thought of it. He had slept with the woman once, and he was thinking of making her a fixture in his life. What was wrong with him? Of course, a man’s standing improved if he had a mistress; it was unfair, he knew, but it was a fact. A man was somehow more masculine if he had conquered more than one woman, whereas a woman who did the same was considered unethical.
Lachlan could imagine Jeannie sneaking out of her room to see him every night to keep their relationship a secret. They could make love in his study, as they had before, in his chamber, in fact, anywhere they liked.
He began to visualise it, imagining himself lifting her off her feet and onto his bed, feeling her hot breath on his skin, his lips against hers. He imagined himself rolling her onto her back, her legs wrapped around his waist. She would thrust up her hips anddrive him to another fierce climax, and afterwards he would hold on to her, not wanting his bed to be empty and cold again. Even the thought made him sad.
He had always thought that no one could replace Sandie; she was the love of his life, but was it possible that a man could love two women, not at the same time, but could one replace the other? Then he shook his head irritably—she was a maidservant, for god’s sake! He was not thinking with his brain or his heart, but with a much more greedy and primitive part of himself.
Lachlan sighed. He was still tired, but there was too much work for him to do to allow him to sit and rest, so he trudged along to his study. He had heard of a drink called coffee which was said to invigorate and stimulate the drinker, as well as tasting delicious, so he decided to find a trader from Edinburg and buy some. However, he could not do that today.
Lachlan was surprised to find his office door open, since he knew he had locked it when he left the previous night. However, he often kept the keys in the pocket of one of his jackets in his chamber, and only one other person apart from Maisie knew they were there.
As he had expected, he heard some rattles and thumps coming from the drawers of his desk. He knew that his supposition had been right when he moved around it and saw Davina with her arms up to her shoulders in the bottom drawer, which was the deepest. It was always kept locked, but Davina was crafty and knew where all the keys fitted. She might not be able to speak well, but there was nothing wrong with her brain.
Now, Lachlan could see that she had taken some miscellaneous items out and laid them on the floor; his watch, a tin in which he kept pens, a letter opener and some sheets of parchment.
She looked up at him, trying to appear innocent, but that was impossible; guilt was written all over her little face and shonethrough, no matter how much she tried to hide it. Lachlan was always struck by how much she resembled him, but sometimes wished he looked a little more like her mother. He always felt a little disloyal for thinking this way because Davina was her own little person, perfect just as she was.
Lachlan could see that she was holding something between both her hands, and he frowned as he reached out to pick her up. “I will give you anything you want, my angel,” he said tenderly. “There is no need to take things that don’t belong to you.”
He sat down and set Davina on his lap, then gently unclasped her hands. She was holding a small, polished wooden box, and he took it away from her and studied it for a moment.
To his surprise, Davina pointed to it and said, “Necklace.”
Another word! They were coming thick and fast now; soon, he hoped, she would be speaking fluently. Jeannie’s influence again…
Lachlan opened the box and lifted out a gold chain on which hung an oval-shaped opal pendant. There was a picture of a beautiful dark-haired woman inside it holding a baby who was probably only a few months old. It was a lovely piece of jewellery, and Lachlan felt guilty as he held it because he knew who owned it.
He sat studying it for a long time before he felt a tug on his sleeve. Davina was
smiling at him as she pointed to the pendant. Clearly she thought it was very beautiful.
“When you are grown up I will have one made for you,” he said. “Perhaps with a picture of you and me in it?” Davina nodded happily. “This belongs to someone else, someone who lost her life in the same war as your mother. You know how that feels, do you not?
War is never good and there are never any winners—everybody suffers. Now, this necklace must go back to the ladywho lost her mother, just as you lost yours. I am sure she wants to have something of hers to remember her by. Sometimes, you see, you have to try to sympathise with your enemy too.”
Davina looked at him solemnly for a moment, nodded, then touched the pendant again. Lachlan carefully took the necklace and returned it to its box, then put it back in the drawer. When he looked at his daughter again, he saw her studying him intently as if trying to read his face. When he smiled at her, she did not return it, merely looked at him more closely.
What was going through her mind, he thought? It was at times like this that he wanted to throw up his hands in frustration and yell his helplessness to the heavens because sometimes dealing with Davina was almost more than he could bear. Then he reprimanded himself; it was not her fault.
He led Davina outside, and they walked along to where her nurse was standing waiting for her. “Jeannie,” she said, frowning.
“I am afraid Jeannie is busy, sweetheart,” he said regretfully. “But you will see her later, and I’m sure she has a wonderful story to read to you.”
Davina nodded, then reached up to pull his head down and kiss his cheek. He did not have to be told now that the expression on her face said, “I love you.”
“I love you too, Davina,” he murmured. He watched her walk away with her nanny, then thought about the pendant again.
Lachlan walked up to the first row of turrets and looked over to the surrounding rugged, mountainous countryside. It was a beautiful day, with not a cloud in the sky, yet it was icy cold with a stiff, cutting breeze that made the Scottish Saltire flag and the Carrick standard billow straight out like soldiers standing to attention.
