Page 95 of Her Accidental Highlander Husband

Mari didn’t understand how anyone could be happy being as alone as the dowager always was. It was as if the old woman had imposed her own prison. She could go anywhere, be with anyone, but the dowager always chose to reside in whatever house the rest of her family wasn’t inhabiting at the time.

Until now.

“As I’m sure you recall,” Cam pointed out, “she is being forced to stay here by the court.”

Mari put on a smile. “Perhaps you would be more comfortable at one of the country estates, Mother.”

“I’ve told you not to call me that!” the dowager snapped.

Mari thought she saw a flash of pain across her face, but it was gone before she could be sure.

“And I will not be forced out of my own home by the likes of Scottish heathens.”

“I believe I’ve mentioned that I prefer brute or barbarian over heathen,” Cam said, finishing up the food on his plate.

“You’re not helping,” Mari said crossly.

“I’d argue that I am, since I’m giving instruction on the proper epithets for Scots.” He held out his large hands in innocence.

God, he was infuriating. She’d deal with him later.

“Please consider going somewhere else more comfortable for the time being,” Mari advised the one woman here who could actually leave.

“I’m sure you’d be happy to send me traveling at this time of year. I’d no doubt catch my death in this weather.”

Mari felt a stab of guilt. It was true that the chill of winter was upon them. She sighed in defeat. “All right then, we’ll stay here together. It’s nearly Christmastide. We should all try to find a charitable spirit for the holiday.” She eyed her husband.

He took her hand and drew her closer to him. It wasn’t uncommon for a man to be protective of his wife. But she thought the gesture odd when faced with an aging woman who wasn’t even as tall as Mari, partnered with a frail house servant.

She patted Cam’s hand and tried again. “Perhaps we can start by sharing the breakfast table together. May I get you something to eat, Moth—I mean, Your Grace?”

“I think not. I’ll stay in my rooms until he is gone.”

“It will be quite a long exile, Your Grace,” Cam offered. “Mayhap you should take some sustenance first.”

“You’re really not helping,” Mari repeated in exasperation.

Cam laughed as the old woman sniffed and quit the room. “Aye. That time I wasna trying to.”

…

“I must admit, I like having a library,” Cam said while pouring whisky into a fancy glass. Good whisky, at that.

“You like to read?” Mari asked from her seat across from him. “Wouldn’t the dowager be surprised you are capable of such a civilized thing.”

They shared a smile.

“My parents used to take turns reading stories aloud to us each night. It was my favorite time of day.”

“And not just because your belly was full from just eating supper?” she teased.

“That might have been part of it.” He glanced around the room and inhaled the smells of paper and leather. “I’ve always enjoyed being around books. Being in this room, I can almost feel them tugging me toward their secrets. All the things they already know that are just sitting there, waiting for me to learn them, too.”

Mari smiled and rubbed her stomach. “I hope you will continue the tradition and read to our child each night.”

Cam nodded. “Aye. I will. I promise.” Neither of them spoke of the immediate future, but he knew they both thought about it often. That he would be reading to their child alone because she would be gone.

Perhaps it wasn’t too late. He hadn’t been enough to make her fight to stay. But maybe their child would be. Maybe…