A Scottish Love

Chapter 13

Cora sobbed. For the first time in years. Exhausted from her son's birth, from Evander suddenly appearing, finding out that their marriage had not been annulled, him still wanting to be married to someone like her.

Evander cried right beside her, albeit for different reasons.

For once, she was glad that he was the more emotional person of the two of them. Being sensible had its good qualities, but there was such a thing as being too practical. This was one of those times.

Jonathan had slipped out of the room, and was watching them in the doorway with a tear in his eye and a smile touching his face.

Evander smiled through his tears, kissing Cora and the baby; it was clear to anyone watching them how much he loved his wife and son. "What should we call him, lass?" he asked Cora.

"Do you have a middle name?"

"Aye. 'Tis Lachlan."

Cora thought it over for a moment, her lips curving up into a brilliant smile. "I love it. Lachlan it is."

Evander looked at her, stunned by her lovely smile. "Lass, if you had smiled like that at me when we first met, I would ha' carried you away wi' me that first night," he teased.

Cora blushed and chuckled. "I'm nothing special."

"Never say so. You're special to me, and to this wee bairn." Evander leaned over, giving her a light kiss on her forehead.

Cora snuggled up to him, exhausted. "I am so glad you came..." was all she said before her eyes drooped closed.

Evander felt his heart burst with love. "Sleep, mo chirdhe," he whispered. Moving away from the bed, his sleeping son in his arms, he gave the baby to the midwife. "Find him a wee bed, will you?"

The midwife nodded, placing the baby into a small basket close to his mother on the bed. Evander turned and grinned at Jonathan. "I'm a father."

"And I am a great-uncle," Jonathan declared. "Between the two of us, this boy will be great."

"Who would have thought, two naughty lads from St. Andrews the uncle and father of this bairn."

Jonathan shook his head with a soft chuckle. "Let's allow them to rest," he suggested. "There will lots of time for us to be there with them."

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The Marquis of Camden looked surprised to see Evander waiting in his comfortable office later that day. "I don't believe we've been introduced. Lord Edmund Lacey, Marquis of Camden. You are well acquainted with the Earl of Pembroke, as I recall."

"Aye," Evander affirmed, shaking Lord Lacey's outstretched hand with a firm grip. "Lord Banner, laird of the clanholding, fifth of that name."

"Indeed," Lord Lacey said. "I believe, under the king's law, that makes you the equivalent of an earl in England."

"Aye, I hold a few titles, passed down from my mother and da," Evander nodded, evading the marquis' curiosity.  "But I'm not really here to discuss my titles with you. I want to tell you how grateful me and Cora are for your welcome, but we will have to go in 2 weeks or less. I need to bring my wife and bairn home to Scotland."

Did he imagine the marquis flinching?

"Your wife, Lord Banner?"

"Aye. Cora and I were married nearly a year ago at Gretna Green. There were a lot of misunderstandings between us, but now I'm taking her and my son to my home in Scotland, where they belong."