Julie Garwood - Saving Grace

Her brother smiled. "Aye, he does," he agreed.

"Who is he?"

"MacBain's son."

She almost toppled over. "His what?"

"Lower your voice, Johanna. I don't want anyone to overhear this conversation. The boy belongs to MacBain. There's speculation he might not be his son, of course, but MacBain has made it clear he accepts him."

She was too astonished to speak.

"His name's Alex," Nicholas remarked for lack of anything better to say. "I can tell I've given you a bit of a shock, Johanna."

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" She didn't give him time to answer. "How long was MacBain married?"

"He wasn't."

"I don't understand…"

"Yes, you do. Alex is illegitimate."

"Oh."

She didn't know what to think about that. "The boy's mother died during childbirth," Nicholas added. "You might as well know it all, sister. The woman was a camp follower. There are at least three other men who could claim the boy."

Her heart went out to the little one. She turned to look at him again. He was an adorable child with dark curly hair. From the distance separating them, she couldn't see the color of his eyes. She wagered they were gray, like his father's.

"Johanna, it's important for you to know MacBain acknowledges the boy as his son."

She turned to her brother. "I heard you both the first and the second time you mentioned that fact."

"And?"

She smiled. "And what, Nicholas?"

"Will you accept him?"

"Oh, Nicholas, how can you ask me such a thing? Of course I will accept him. How could I not?"

Nicholas let out a sigh. His sister didn't understand the ways of their harsh world. "It's a bone of contention among the Maclaurins," he explained. "MacBain's father was the Laird Maclaurin. He went to his deathbed without ever acknowledging his son."

"Then the man I'm marrying is also illegitimate?"

"Yes."

"Yet the Maclaurins made him their laird?"

Nicholas nodded. "It's complicated," he admitted. "They needed his strength. He does carry his father's blood, and they've conveniently forgotten he was born a bastard. The boy, however…"

He didn't say another word. He would leave the conclusions to her. Johanna shook her head. "Do you suppose the little one's upset about the wedding?"

"It would appear he's upset about something."

Father MacKechnie drew their attention by waving to them. Nicholas took hold of Johanna's elbow and started forward. She couldn't take her gaze away from the child. Lord, he looked pitiful and lost.

"They're ready," Nicholas announced. "Here comes MacBain."

The laird walked across the courtyard and took his place in front of the altar. His hands were at his sides. The priest moved to stand next to him. He again motioned Johanna forward.

"I can't do this, not without…"

"It's going to be all right."

"You don't understand," she whispered, smiling. "Wait here, Nicholas. I'll be right back."

The priest waved to Johanna. She waved back, smiling. Then she turned around and walked away.

"Johanna, for the love of God…"

Nicholas was muttering to the air. He watched as his sister made her way around the crowd. When she headed for the steps, he finally understood what her errand was.

Nicholas turned his gaze to MacBain. His expression revealed nothing of his thoughts.

The priest craned his neck to watch Johanna, then turned to MacBain and nudged him with his elbow.

Johanna slowed her pace when she neared the steps, for she didn't want the little one to run away before she got to him.

The news that MacBain had a son had filled her with joy and relief. Finally she had her answer to the question that plagued her. MacBain obviously didn't care she was barren because he already had an heir, illegitimate or not.

The guilt she'd been carrying dropped away like a heavy cloak from her shoulders.

MacBain couldn't contain his frown. Damn, he hadn't wanted her to find out about the boy until they were married and she couldn't change her mind. Women were peculiar in their attitudes, he knew, and he was certain he was never going to understand exactly how their minds worked. They seemed to take exception to such odd things. Most, he'd heard, didn't accept mistresses, and some of the wives of the other warriors he knew didn't acknowledge bastards. MacBain had every intention of forcing Johanna to acknowledge his son, but he'd hoped to get her settled in first.

Alex spotted her coming his way and immediately buried his face in his hands. He had skinny knees. They were caked with dirt. When he peeked up to look at her, she saw his eyes. They weren't gray like his father's, but blue.

Johanna paused on the bottom step and spoke to the child. MacBain started to go after his bride, then changed his mind. He folded his arms across his chest and simply waited to see what would happen. He wasn't the only one watching. Silence filled the courtyard as every MacBain and every Maclaurin turned to look.

"Does the boy understand English?" Father MacKechnie asked.

"Some," MacBain answered. "She told me you were instructing her in Gaelic. Has she learned enough to converse a bit with Alex?"

The priest shrugged. "Probably," he allowed.

Johanna talked to the child for several minutes. Then she reached out her hand to him. Alex jumped to his feet, tripped down the stairs, and put his hand in hers. She leaned down, brushed the hair out of his eyes, adjusted his plaid from drooping over his shoulders, and then pulled him along by her side.

"He understands that," MacKechnie whispered.

"What does he understand?" Calum asked.

The priest smiled. "Acceptance."

MacBain nodded. Johanna reached Nicholas's side and took hold of his arm again. "I'm ready now," she announced. "Alex, go and stand beside your father," she instructed. "It is my duty to come to the two of you."

The little boy nodded. He ran down the length of the path and took his place on his father's left. MacBain glanced down at his son. His expression was contained, and Johanna couldn't tell if he was pleased or annoyed. His gaze stayed on her, but once she started to walk toward him, he unfolded his arms and reached down to touch the top of his son's head.

Nicholas gave her away in marriage. She didn't resist when he placed her hand in MacBain's. He was damned proud of his sister. He knew she was nervous, but she didn't try to cling to his side. She was positioned between the two warriors, with her future husband on her right and her brother on her left. Johanna stood straight, held her head high, and looked straight ahead.

She was dressed in a white ankle-length chainse and matching knee-length bliaut. The square neckline of her wedding attire was embroidered with pale pink and green threads fashioned into the design of dainty rosebuds.

She smelled like roses, too. The scent was faint, yet vastly appealing to MacBain. Father MacKechnie took a small bouquet of flowers from the corner of the altar and handed it to her before hurrying around to the other side to begin the mass.

MacBain kept his gaze on his bride. She was an utterly feminine creature, and God's truth, he didn't know what he was going to do with her. His main worry was that she wouldn't be strong enough to survive such a harsh life. He forced the concern aside. It had become his duty to make certain she survived. He would protect her from danger, and if she needed to be pampered, then by God he would see she was pampered. He didn't have the faintest idea how, but he was an intelligent man. He would find out. He wouldn't let her dirty her hands either or do any backbreaking work, and he would demand she rest each and every day. Taking care of her was the very least he could do in appreciation for the land she'd given him, and surely that was the only reason he was worrying about her comforts now.