to applaud marriage as a rule, but in Brodie’s case, the man sorely needed it.
“Papa?” Isla’s voice broke into his thoughts. Isla stood next to him, wearing a pale-blue satin gown with an orange sash tied into a bow at her back. Her hair was only partially pulled back by ribbons. She’d been overjoyed to attend the wedding in the fine new clothes that he’d purchased for her.
He took her small hand in his. “Yes, kitten?”
“Can I truly call you Papa?” Isla asked. It was perhaps the tenth time this week she’d asked that same question.
Rafe had spoken to Lydia and Brodie two weeks before and had asked them if he might take the child as his ward. It had surprised them, and they had raised concerns about why a single gentleman who’d never been married would want to raise a little girl. He had replied that he had plenty of interfering relations who would no doubt be more than happy to help him do the thing properly. They ultimately agreed, so long as Isla wished for it too. And she had.
“Yes, Isla, you may call me Papa. Or Uncle Rafe. Whatever you prefer.”
Isla swung his hand back and forth in hers as she seemed to think it over. “I want you to be my papa, but I already have one.”
Rafe turned and knelt before the little girl. “You may have another papa. Just as Lydia now has a new mama. You will always have your first papa and mama.” His inexplicable connection to the child was soul deep, and he had a strange feeling that Isla’s parents, wherever they were, were watching over him. He didn’t want to let them or Isla down. For the first time in his life, someone depended on him. It was unsettling, but also exciting.
“Oh, Rafe, there you are.” Ashton and Rosalind joined them in the kirkyard. Rosalind took Isla by the hand and led her away to admire the wildflowers growing at the edges of the yard.
“How fares the child?” Ashton asked.
“Well enough. She misses her parents.” Rafe followed the child with his gaze, wanting to make sure she was safe and well.
Ashton stroked his chin, and Rafe could feel his older brother’s gaze upon him. “Rafe, are you certain you can care for this child? I’m happy to set aside a trust with plenty of funds for her, if you’d like.”
“No, I will not take money, Ash.”
“Well, that’s a first,” his older brother mused. “But if you need it, I will give it. I must admit, I’ve seen quite a difference in you these last few weeks. Dare I say you’re leaving your rakehell ways behind?”
Rafe chuckled. “I prefer to think that I’m redirecting my focus in life. Keeping that girl entertained can be a challenge. But I may have a bit of devilry left in me yet.”
Ashton laughed. “So long as you keep it far from that child, you’ll be fine.”
“I promise nothing,” Rafe said with a smirk. “Other than to vow to never see her hurt.”
“What is it about her that draws you?” Ashton asked. “She is a lovely child, of course, but you’ve never shown interest in children before. They used to terrify you.”
“They’ve never terrified me,” Rafe protested. “I simply . . . have trouble relating to them.”
“And what makes her different?”
Rafe smiled as Isla gathered a bouquet of flowers and presented them to Rosalind.
“She’s thoughtful and wise for a child. She thinks of others more than herself, despite her hardships. Doesn’t a child like that deserve to enjoy life? And who knows more about enjoying life than your dearest brother?”
Ashton smiled, but it was one that betrayed his doubts. “Yes, who indeed?”
Two months later
Aiden stared out at the cliffside landscape that draped into the sea off the coast of North Berwick. He urged his horse to race down the coastline, feeling free for the first time in days. He had left Castle Kincade to allow Brock and Joanna some time alone, and he had agreed to meet Lydia and Brodie as they returned from their honeymoon on the Continent.
He was bound for the distant docks of North Berwick. He would likely have to wait a few days, perhaps a week if the ship carrying his brother and sister-in-law was delayed, but he was glad for the time alone.
Too often of late he’d been reminded that he alone of the Kincade siblings had not married. He likely never would. But that was something he chose not to dwell