Quest of the Highlander (Crowns & Kilts #5) - Cynthia Wright Page 0,77

slowly. And the smile that spread over his aging face was exactly like Lennox’s.

The main difference between them, besides age, was that this man wore the garb of a wealthy aristocrat. His doublet of dark blue velvet was slashed and set with gems. He wore a jerkin trimmed with silver braid, and a sapphire-studded pomander hung from a chain round his neck. His velvet cap sported a swan’s feather, just like the man in the miniature made nearly three decades earlier.

Nora reached for Lennox’s cold hand.

“He looks very kind,” she whispered.

His only response was a slow nod.

Now, with a closer view of the man’s face, Nora felt a wave of emotion. It was like seeing Lennox in the future, decades from now.

Sandhurst led his friend forward and sought to ease the tension. “This is an awkward moment, I suppose, but I trust you two very fine men will meet the challenge.” He looked at Lennox. “I went to visit my friend late last evening, after discovering that he had not yet left London for the country. I have told him everything you shared with me.”

Lennox straightened his shoulders, waiting for the page to be turned on his life.

“Hello, my boy,” said the man, extending his hand. He wore rings set with precious gems. Nora noticed then that his fingers were like Lennox’s: long and artistic yet masculine and strong. The older man studied Lennox, his sea-green eyes moving over his Highland garb then settling on his face as if he might find answers there.

As they shook hands, Sandhurst spoke. “Lennox MacLeod, it is my honor to present to you His Grace the Duke of Hastings.”

* * *

Lennox went pale but did not flinch. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Your Grace,” he said.

“But that sounds much too formal,” the duke protested, a smile softening his handsome countenance. “I believe you are my son. Perhaps, after we have an opportunity to learn more about one another, you will do me the honor of addressing me as ‘Father.’”

Nora’s heart swelled as she watched Lennox, sensing the powerful emotions that must be rising up inside him. Thank God she had not divulged anything to him that might disrupt this moment. After waiting a lifetime, Lennox needed to be free to forge a relationship with his true father, without any outside obligations holding him back.

Lennox turned toward Nora. “Sir, I would have ye know Nora Brodie. This lass has helped me more than anyone else to stand here today.” He looked hard at her, clearly wanting to say more.

Nora dipped a curtsy, relaxing under the duke’s friendly regard. “Your Grace, Lennox made it possible for me to travel from Scotland to London. He has told me his story, so I know how much this day means to him.”

“I suggest that we all be seated,” Sandhurst said, pouring cups of weak ale for all of them from a silver pitcher.

Soon Lennox and the Duke of Hastings were leaning toward each other, deep in conversation. Nora cut herself a small wedge of cheese and watched them talk as if they had always known one another.

“You will never know what profound meaning this day holds for me,” Hastings was saying. “How did you manage to find me?”

Lennox took out the miniature and handed it to him. “Ma left this behind, hidden in the false bottom of a jeweled casket, trusting I would eventually discover it.”

“By God, she kept it.” The duke’s voice thickened as he stared at the small painting of a younger version of himself. “I will confess I never forgot your mother. Perhaps, if I had known she was with child, I would have been more courageous…and everything would have been different.”

Nora could see the pain in Lennox’s eyes and knew those words, “Everything would have been different,” held more weight than the duke could have imagined.

“Perhaps I risk causing offense by speaking plainly, sir,” Lennox said. “But if ye knew she was unhappy with my da, and she loved you, why did ye let her return to Skye?”

Nora held her breath, waiting for the duke to turn frosty. She had spent enough time among nobility to know that they were used to being treated with respectful deference, and if one deviated from that code of conduct, a barrier of aristocratic reserve appeared.

Hastings glanced away for a moment before meeting Lennox’s even stare. “I am not proud to admit this, but I was unhappy in my marriage to my duchess. I became fond of