Page 79 of Return of the Scot
Lorne was surprised at how much the lad did remind him of himself. Even at the tender age of eight, he was not afraid to make his desires known.
“And so ye shall,” Jaime said, then glanced at Lorne. “Right?”
“Aye, of course,” Lorne said, keeping his eyes on the lad. He ruffled his dark hair, eliciting a tentative smile from the child. “Mrs. Blair, would ye please escort Lord Gille and his wife to their chamber? Mungo will accompany ye to make certain everything goes well. We wish ye a good rest, since you’re going to need it for your journey back to Ireland tomorrow. And thank ye ever so much for returning the sword and the lad.”
“That’s all I’ll be returning to ye, ye bastard,” Gille shouted. “Son of a whore…” He continued spewing vulgarity that Lorne only blinked at.
“Pardon me, Your Grace,” Mungo interjected. “But I do believe there is a large chest in your study that also belongs to ye. Found it in the carriage. And if I may beat the man once more?”
“Ye stole my money!” Gille screeched.
Lorne wanted to shout, “Aye, please shut him up,” but Gille was so loud, it took all his calm not to start bellowing himself.
“I’ve heard quite enough of this,” Lorne muttered. “Thank ye, Mungo. That will no’ be necessary this time. Gille, if ye do no’ want to spend the night in the dungeon, I suggest ye either leave or go with Mrs. Blair to your chamber.”
“We are leaving.” Gille grabbed Shanna by the hand. “Now. And ye’ll pay for this.”
“I highly doubt that. For if ye come after me, my wife, or the lad, I will have ye tossed into the closest jail cell and make certain ye rot in it forever.”
Shanna, for her part, did not argue at all. She sniffed the air as some of the more snobbish ladies at court and whirled on her heel, marching out of Dunrobin much as she’d marched around society—high-and-mighty, even when brought low.
Jaime took Lorne’s hand in hers, glancing up at him, and mouthed, “Thank ye.”
He winked down at her, certain that they’d done the right thing. As the big door to the castle slammed closed, he was not the only one to breathe a sigh of relief. Wee Gordie looked ready to collapse at his liberation.
“Ye promise never to let me go again?” Gordie asked Jaime.
“I swear on my life, sweet lad.” She pulled him in for a hug and kissed his forehead.
Lorne gathered them both up in his arms, holding them until Mungo returned to signal that Gille and Shanna had gone.
“Gordie, how do ye feel about boxing?” he asked.
The lad’s face lit up, and he leapt away from Jaime, holding up his hands in the perfect stance. “I learned a lot at the docks.”
Lorne grinned. “I think we’re going to get along fine then.” He ruffled the lad’s hair. “Now run along with Mrs. Blair. She’ll see ye set up in a room of your own.”
Gordie ran off as if he had not a care in the world, and Lorne wished adults could bounce back so readily. When he was gone, Lorne put his arms around Jaime, and she sagged against his chest.
“Ye showed great restraint,” she said.
“Only for your sake, my love. I would have very much liked to teach him a lesson. As it is, he will never understand the gift we’ve given him.”
“They do no’ deserve our kindness.”
“Nay, they do no’.” He tilted her chin up, pressed his mouth to hers. “But as I often reminded myself when I was imprisoned—the best way to beat your enemy is to succeed. And, my darling wife, we have done that in spades.”
Jaime wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her fingers threading into his hair as she tugged him down for another kiss. “I love ye.”
Epilogue
Edinburgh, Scotland
Several weeks later
The gymnasium at Sutherland Gate was alive with shouts and laughter. In the ring, Jaime circled her husband, while on the ground, surrounding them, stood their onlookers.
Gordie cheered them on, along with Malcolm, Alec, Euan, Mungo, MacInnes and even Mrs. Blair and Alison, who fretted in unison.
