Page 77 of In the Highlander's Bed

Constance nodded. “’Tis justice.”

The duke didn’t argue. He said, “We were surprised we heard of the attack from the Scots first. My brother has excellent military resources and they knew nothing of the event. In fact, we told them about it first. Of course, military channels move slowly and it may take some time before we know the complete story.Whitehall has ordered a few officers to London for information.”

Constance couldn’t give a care. “It was the bounty they wanted,” she said with certainty. “The one that was raised because Gordon kidnapped me.”

“The Scots say he sacrificed himself for them,” the duke said. “He led them to a cliff overlooking the loch where the camp was.”

“Yes, the Cliffs. They were a popular meeting place.”

“And then he jumped into the water. No one saw him surface, nor has anyone received contact from him since the attack.”

“But he swims,” Constance said, her heart taking hope. “He can swim like a fish.”

The duke leaned forward, resting his arm on his knees. “Constance, the water was very cold. Lachlan was fully clothed. He took the sword with him. A man would have to be an incredibly strong swimmer to beat those odds.”

“What of his sister?” Fiona would know what happened to her brother.

“No one has seen her since the day of the attack, either. Some of the Scots were killed that day. A handful, but we don’t know how many. They scattered into the surrounding forest and not everyone is accounted for. It’s possible thatbothLachlans died. The feeling is that certainly someone in the clan would have heard from one or the other.”

The room started to go black and Constance realized she was about to faint.

The duke reached for her, taking her arm and giving it a squeeze. “Be strong,” he whispered.

“How?” she asked, her throat closing.

“In the only way women have been strong for centuries. You were a warrior’s woman. You must think of what he would want you to do.”

“I can think of nothing other than how much this hurts.” Her mind was finally realizing the terrible reality of his loss. “If he was alive, he would have come for me,” she said. “I know he would have. Your Grace, I don’t think I can go on. It’s as if my soul is being ripped in two.”

The duke kneeled on the floor in front of her. “Constance,” he said sternly, forcing her to listen to him, “I know this conversation is not easy. The question would be better coming from your sisters, and yet, they fear upsetting you. They think it best I do so. Then they can console you.”

“What question do they want to ask that they fear how I would react?”

“Have you thought that you could be with child? Gordon’s child?”

His words were a dousing of cold water. She shook her head. “I couldn’t be.”

“It’s too soon to tell,” he replied. “But your sisters say there are signs. There is the possibility, is there not?”

A child?She’d not considered such a thing. But now…?

It could be possible. She’d been so busy at the camp, and then with Gordon, she hadn’t thought about the dates. She wasn’t even certain what the dates were anymore. Time had ceased to have meaning.

She placed her hand on her belly. “How soon does one know?”

“Miranda said that she felt a change in her attitude almost immediately.”

Constance searched herself. “I have no idea.” She shook her head. “I’ve been sad.” It felt strange to speak openly to this man, and yet there was a kindness about him. An empathy. “You knew Gordon. You liked him.”

“I admired him very much,” the duke answered without hesitation. “I want you to think on this—Gordon was the last of his line. That child you could be carrying would be important to him. You have a responsibility to care for that wee one. To see him safe.”

Constance forced herself to sit upright. Shecombed her fingers through her hair, realizing how she’d let herself go. Nor could she imagine herself with child. She didn’t know what she was expected to feel…or even if she could trust this concern on the duke’s part.

A certainty came over her. Aknowingas completely mad as one of Maggie’s fits. “He’s still alive,” she said, wanting it to be true.

Still kneeling, Colster shrugged before gently saying, “Even if he is, Constance, he is a wanted man in England. You’ve been shut away from all of this, but right now his name is in every paper. It was the kidnapping that made him infamous. He’s called too much attention to himself to be safe on these shores.”

“I don’t suppose I’m infamous, too?” There was bitterness in her voice.