Kilted Sin (Brethren of Stone 3)

He sat on the bed, a child under each arm. She stopped, trying to discern his mood but studying the contours of his face. In return, he gave her a small smile. “Good morning,” he said, his voice relaxing some of the tension in her muscles.

“Good morning,” she answered. Should she apologize? Was that what was wrong with her? She didn’t say she was sorry? She didn’t back down when she wanted something? “What are we doing today?”

“We’re going to have breakfast with Blair and Elle and then head home. With good weather, we can complete the planting this week.”

“Sounds good,” she said, not knowing what else to say. “Come on, children. Time to dress.”

“Gemma.” Will stood, then crossed over to her. “We need to talk about last night.”

Her insides twisted into a thousand knots. “I agree.” She took a deep breath. “I’m sorry I’m so stubborn.” Gemma pressed her hand against her stomach, willing the knots to slacken as she slowly released the air she’d bottled up in her lungs.

That made him smile. “I’m sorry fer the same. I ken ye need time and I can understand why having Mary about might upset ye. Blair and Elle are going to take in Mary and the boys. Give her a job. I can’t send her and the children to the wolves, Gemma. But I can have her leave the property.”

Those words made her insides turn to jelly. He wasn’t choosing Mary over her. He was just a good man who couldn’t turn out a woman in need. She licked her lips. “That means so much.”

“I’m going to be honest. I still don’t think ye should take over the lease for the croft. I don’t think anyone can farm alone,” he said. “I can’t afford to have ye try and fail.”

Gemma turned her face away. He was being honest, she knew that. “It’s just that the croft was my one chance to have my marriage mean something,” she said. “Otherwise, it’s just a failure.”

She heard him suck in his breath. “Oh Gemma.” Then she was crushed up against his chest. “I am doubly sorry. I know what it means to not want to fail. I hadn’t even though about it like that.”

She shook her head against the hard muscles of his chest and arm. “And what happens if ye decide, like Sean, ye don’t want me anymore? I have to ken I’ve something to fall back on this time. I can’t—” The words stuck in her throat.

He rubbed her back. “Ye’ve been a laird’s nanny. I’ll write ye a recommendation. I’m not going tae do what Sean did, but in yer heart, you can rest easy knowing that ye can find a position whenever you choose. But ye ken me, Gemma and ye ken that I would never just leave you out in the cold.

Gemma looked up into his eyes. She did know that. It was her own heart that she no longer had faith in.

Chapter Fifteen

Once they arrived back home, Will headed out to the fields. He still had half a day to work and he needed every second of it. September was sliding away and October would bring hard frosts. The barley had to be in before that.

Setting to work, he spent the afternoon planting. He was fortunate in only one respect, he had plenty of seed to go around.

By the time the sky darkened, he was nearly finished. Tomorrow, he’d be done. A light smile touched his lips. Rather than head home, however, he walked toward Mary’s farmhouse.

Knocking on the door, he heard the baby crying inside.

Folding his hands, he prepared to wait. He could hear her soothing the child as the lock clicked and the door opened.

“Laird Sinclair,” she exclaimed, her eyes opening wide. “Can I help ye with something, my lord?”

“Ye can,” he said. “May I come in?”

With a nod, she stepped back, allowing him entrance into the room. Sean came toddling over, and without thought, he picked up the boy and swung him into his arms. “My brother is in need of a nanny. His wife is about to deliver their first child.”

Mary nodded, bouncing the baby on her hip. “I see.”

“They’ve offered you the position if ye’d like to take it.”

Mary lifted her hand to her mouth. “Leave here?”

Will kept his face a blank mask. He didn’t want to push Mary if she wasn’t ready, though he shuddered to think of how Gemma would react. “If ye’d like. Is it difficult fer ye to think of leaving this place?”

“Well ye’ve been verra kind,” Mary answered, her gaze trained on the fire. “But if I never see the inside of this farmhouse again, it will be too soon.”

Will nearly choked in surprise. “Yer not sad about leaving Sean’s memory?”

Mary snorted. “He barely farmed. The old laird threatened to remove us multiple times. I was out there, pregnant, getting the seed in the ground. He couldn’t stay out of the pub or out of other women’s skirts. Did ye ken he had another wife? Why would ye?” She shook her head. “Good fer nothing piece of shite,” she muttered. “If it hadn’t been fer little Sean, I’d have left him long ago.”