for Aline to marry Laird Macleod, and yet she was happy with you. Her letters certainly seemed to show that she’d come to care for ye a great deal, and so my hatred of ye has ceased. Ye made my lass happy during the time she was here and that is enough for me.”
Had Ben not been sitting, the laird’s words would’ve knocked him on his ass. “I cared for Aline a great deal, and I always will. She’s the mother of my boy, and for that I’m forever grateful. But I’m not looking to marry again, and I do apologize for giving ye any further cause to disapprove of me, but I cannot marry Athol. No matter how much of a suitable woman she may be as my wife and mother to my boy.”
The laird clapped him on the back. “’Tis what I thought ye would say, but Athol was determined to have ye as her husband, and so it was a father’s duty to ask.” He paused. “I must ask ye why it is ye’re so determined not to marry again and give some brothers and sisters to the wee Alasdair. The lad would do well to have some siblings to love and combat with.”
Guilt roared within him that he was living and his wife no longer was, due solely to the fact he needed an heir. To think of losing Kenzie in such a way tore his soul in two. “I canna ask another to risk her life by having more of my bairns. ’Twas the ultimate sacrifice from Aline, and had she not fallen pregnant, she would be alive today.”
“Aye, she would’ve,” Aline’s father said, pulling a roll of bread apart and throwing some into his mouth. “And yet, had she survived or only now be trying for a child, she would change nothing of her course. The lass, no matter how prickly she may have been toward some, was a good girl and wished for children of her own. Ye would not have changed her outcome. ’Tis God’s will, my boy.”
Ben stood. “If ye will excuse me, Grant.” He strode from the room, the words from Aline’s father going around in his mind like a wheel. Mayhap, the old man was right and so, too, was Kenzie. Was he being too hard on himself in regard to his wife’s death? Once married, he’d actually enjoyed the state. The marriage bed was one he’d enjoyed, and during his time with Aline, he’d been faithful. Could he do it again? Could he risk allowing himself to care for another with the knowledge that he could lose her, as well?
Ben spied Kenzie at the well, talking to three young children. Whatever she was telling the small boys, they were enthralled with her tale. What was it that she was telling them? He walked over to her and wrapped his arms about her waist, pulling her hard against his chest.
The three boy’s eyes widened at the sight of their laird showing such affection in public, and they scuttled off, laughing.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she asked him, her voice hard and distant. The opposite of her pliant, warm body against his own.
“I love ye, Kenzie, lass, and I want to be yours. Always.”
She spun about in his arms, staring up at him, the smile on her lips bringing forth his own. “Are you serious?”
“Aye,” he said, nodding. “I’m serious.”
“So, you’re not going to make me go home, if I want to stay here with you? Fight alongside you and stop anyone who dares to hurt the Laird of Ross?”
Ben took a calming breath, not wanting her anywhere near the skirmish that she’d predicted. Not that he would tell Kenzie so. “’Tis what I wish. I know we dinna have the best of starts, by God you’ve seen the very worst of me. Black Ben at his darkest, most vile, and yet, here you stand, loving me as much as I love ye, and if my fate is to die, then let it be that I die married to the beautiful, clever, vexing Kenzie Jacobs of Clan MacLeod.”
Kenzie smiled, wrapping her arms about his neck before leaning up and kissing him quickly. “So, we’re to be married soon then?”
“The priest in the local village will perform the ceremony as soon as ye are willing. I am hoping though, lass, that it will be within a day or so. I dinna want ye in a different room to my own.