“I know that…it’s just…gosh, I look at Bri and she was born for this. I wasn’t.” Her chest started to shake as she struggled to hold back tears.
“Oh, Misty. That child…” I pointed to her belly, recreating the very words that Jeffery’s father had said to me once, during my pregnancy with Cooper, “you were handpicked to be its mother. There’s no one else in the world that can raise that baby the way you were meant to. You’re already a perfect match for one another, because that little soul was placed with you instead of someone else. Do you know how many millions of mothers it could have been sent to? But it was sent to you. So just love it, and do your very best every single day, and everything will be just as it should be.”
She leaned against my shoulder, soaking my sleeve with tears. “Oh my God, Grace. That was sooo,” she paused to sniffle and sob, “good.” More sniffles. “Really. You should put that on a card or something. Thank you.”
I patted her back gently and, looking at the camp that was slowly being assembled off the back of the castle, decided it best to change the conversation to help pull her out of her sulk. “So tell me a little bit about who will be here. It’s all pretty hard to keep up with.”
She laughed and nodded, wiping her eyes as she lifted herself off me. “Yes, it is. You don’t need anything to explain your family’s appearance here, or mine. Everyone will think we talk funny, but I’ve found if you just say that you grew up far away from here, people don’t seem to question it too much. It’s really with the Conalls and MacChristys that things get complicated—seeing as Bri and Blaire are uncanny look-alikes.”
They truly were. “How so?”
“Well, Blaire is Donal MacChristy’s real daughter and, until Bri’s appearance, everyone thought he had just one. But they look so much alike that they couldn’t very well say they weren’t twins. No one would believe it.”
It seemed a very tricky situation. “So how does one go about making everyone who’s known the family their whole life believe that Donal had a secret daughter?”
“Good question. You don’t. I mean, they’ve created a story, but anyone with half a brain questions it. Luckily, no one is apt to question Laird Conall, Laird MacChristy, or his brother, Lennox.”
“There are two MacChristys?” Sheesh, I needed a notebook.
“Donal has a brother, you see. Here’s how they now explain Bri: Donal’s wife died giving birth to Blaire, but now he says that she gave birth to twins, and he was so worried about raising two daughters on his own that he sent one of them away to live with his brother, Lennox MacChristy.”
“Of course.”
She laughed, appreciating my sarcasm. “Yes. Naturally. Anyway, Lennox MacChristy is a perpetual nomad. He’s moved his three sons all over the globe their entire lives, so it’s not as if many people could prove that he’d not raised Donal’s secret daughter.”
“Ah.” Slowly, it made more sense.
“Yes. Anyway, that’s who is coming to the gathering. Donal’s brother hasn’t been in this part of Scotland in a long time. Since Donal and all of the Conalls are already here, it seemed the perfect time for one big ass family reunion.”
“Okay. Anybody else I should know about?”
“The Camerons will be coming as well.”
“The Camerons?”
Mitsy nodded, pointing into the woods. “Yes. Pretty small group, but still, they’ll be here. Kenna’s sister Nairne,” a shadow of the still new wound crossed Mitsy’s face but she masked it well, “she’s dead now and so is her son, both by Niall’s hand. Her widowed daughter-in-law, Wynda, still resides at Cameron Castle. She will be here with her children.”
I couldn’t imagine such loss or such evil. Niall had torn so many lives apart, lives that were still struggling to heal.
Mitsy must have been able to read my thoughts, for she echoed just exactly what I’d been thinking. “He was an evil bastard. I hope he rots in hell.”
“I don’t blame you.” Eoghanan’s scar flashed before my eyes, a permanent reminder of all the destruction Niall had caused. “I’m glad he’s dead, too.”
Chapter 32
“Look at him.” Eoghanan’s arms came around me and I leaned into him, taking his hands in mine as I pointed in Jeffrey’s direction.
The gathering was now in full swing. The castle had been turned into a constant bustle of activity. The grand dining hall was filled with people visiting, laughing, dancing, and, in Jeffrey’s case, flirting rather obviously.
“Aye, I see him. What about it?”
I couldn’t pull my eyes away from them. The way he fawned over the widow Wynda Cameron, smiling and lingering, it was like watching a zoo animal. “I’ve never seen him like that. He really likes her.”
“Wynda?” Eoghanan’s voice echoed surprise.
I jerked my head to the side as he spoke loudly into my ear.