The Viper (Highland Guard #4)(118)

This one—a contest of sorts—was for the most unique beard. Bella had to admit, she looked forward to seeing what they came up with. Lachlan’s most recent was a small square patch just below his lip. Somehow, rather than look silly, it only seemed to make him even more wickedly handsome.

He arched a brow. “I thought you liked it.”

She blushed at the memory of exactly when she’d told him how much she liked it and gave him a playful shove. “You’re incorrigible.”

He spun her back into his arms and kissed her. “And you’re beautiful.”

She melted into him, sliding her hands around his neck, and savored the long, slow strokes of his tongue.

“Ah hell, they’re doing it again.”

Bella shot Lachlan a glare that only grew sharper when she saw how hard he was fighting not to laugh. “I thought you were going to try to watch your language.”

He gave her a boyish shrug. “I am—trying.”

Bella turned, putting her hands on her hips to admonish the five-year-old interloper, who not only looked but sounded exactly like his father. “Erik, what did we talk about?”

The dark-haired, green-eyed charmer graced her with a dazzling smile. “My, you look beautiful today, Mother.”

Oh, God help her!

Bella shot Lachlan another glare when she heard him laugh.

“Don’t look at me,” he said. “You’re the one that wanted to name him after Hawk.”

He might look and sound like his father, but Erik MacRuairi was as charming, roguish, and irresistible as his namesake. It was impossible to stay angry with him. He had her wrapped around the hilt of one of his tiny wooden swords. He insisted on two. Just like his father’s, each was engraved with the words “usque ad finem.” To the very end. Again, just like his father’s.

Lachlan crossed the room and knelt beside his firstborn. Despite his amusement, he managed an impressively stern frown. “Remember our talk, son?”

Erik nodded, a disreputable wave of dark hair falling across his forehead.

“I’m disappointed in you,” Lachlan admonished gravely. “It’s not polite to curse around ladies.”

The miniature Lachlan frowned, seeming to consider this for a moment. But then he smiled. “All right, I’ll just curse around the men. But you might want to tell Tina—she was cursing something fierce a few minutes ago when Ranald stopped her from taking your birlinn out with Robbie.”

“What!” Bella cried.

This time it was Lachlan who cursed.

Erik looked at them as if they were addled. “That’s what I came to tell you,” he explained patiently. “Tina wanted to take Father’s birlinn out to meet Uncle Erik, but Ranald wouldn’t let her.”

“For God’s sake!” Bella exclaimed, covering her mouth in horror.

Erik tugged on his father’s sleeve. “Isn’t that a blasphemy, Father?”

“Don’t worry,” Lachlan said to her, saving some kind of explanation to Erik for later. “I’ll take care of it.”

Bella nodded, collapsing in the nearest chair. The four-year-old blond-haired, green-eyed pirate-in-the-making thought she could sail a ship—with her two-year-old brother Robert, no less, as her second-in-command. She could probably do it, too. The little termagant would be the death of her. Their daughter had been named after both her famous Aunt Christina of the Isles as well as Tor MacLeod’s wife, who’d become one of Bella’s closest friends in the past six years, but the Viking blood of her ancestors coursed strongly through her veins.

Hand in hand, father and son strode out of the hall. Lachlan with the predatory grace she’d always admired, and Erik with a swagger that in not too many years would break countless hearts.

How she loved them. After years of hardship, fortune had smiled on her indeed. She’d thought when she hadn’t quickened with child for so many years after Joan that she was barren. But she’d discovered that she was pregnant with Erik not long after they’d returned from Berwick.

At the time, the little boy had been a ray of light in more ways than one.

She pushed aside the sad thoughts and walked back to the window. She smiled, seeing Lachlan tossing Robbie up in the air with Erik and Tina chasing circles around him in the sand. So much for the new clothes she’d dressed them in. Unable to resist the lure of her family and a rare sunny day in December, she hurried out of the Hall to join them.

But as soon as Bella stepped out of the entry, she caught sight of the sail. She froze at the top of the stairs as the birlinn with its hawk-carved bow sailed effortlessly into the sea-loch.

She was here. Bella closed her eyes, giving a silent prayer of thanks. After all these years, Joan was finally here.

The swell of emotion hit her hard, landing with a thud against her chest. Tears glistened in her eyes.

She gripped the wooden rail like a lifeline as she slowly descended the steps. But when Joan stepped onto the jetty and began walking toward her, Bella gave up all pretense of composure. Tears streamed freely down her cheeks as her legs carried her faster and faster.

Joan looked up. She was so beautiful. The promise of beauty had been fulfilled in the gorgeous young woman who met her gaze. And when a broad smile of joy broke out across that serenely beautiful face, Bella knew that everything was going to be all right.