She glanced down at the simple gold band wrapping around her finger. He’d bound everything he had into that ring and offered it to her. His name, his money, his protection, his home. He’d given her so much and she’d not returned anything. She covered the band with her fingers, the cold metal warming at her touch. That changed now. She would make herself the best Duchess of Kilbride she could be and bring honor to his name.
Constance swished herself onto the window seat next to Svetlana, crinkling the corner of the open plant book between them, and took Svetlana’s hand. The gold band winked between them.
“When I received Wynn’s message saying he’d married, I was overjoyed. He’s always been a man to love and be loved. I knew he’d never be completely content with a set of scalpels in his hand. He needed a woman to round him out, and here you are. I couldn’t be more proud to have a daughter-in-law such as you.” Tears shimmered in her eyes. “I’m only sad to have missed the wedding.”
Alarmed at the sudden waterworks, Svetlana tried to edge her hand away, but the older woman clung tight as emotion rolled across her face. Should she offer a hankie or a pat on the shoulder? What would Wynn do? Offer a joke. No, she wasn’t good at those. He’d summon courage and meet the discomfort head-on.
“We missed having you there, but with the war on it would have been too dangerous to send for you. It all happened so quickly.”
“As I often told my husband, when you know, you know.” She nodded and sniffed. “Though I don’t think any of us could have known how all of this would come to pass.” Her glassy eyes lifted to a painted family portrait hanging over the fireplace. The brothers looked very much alike, but Wynn held a familiar twinkle in his eyes while his brother’s gaze was calm and steady.
“Was Hugh very different from Wynn?”
With a short laugh Constance finally released Svetlana’s hand and swiped an errant tear from her cheek. “Good gracious, yes. Where Hugh was contemplative, Wynn was inquisitive. Where Hugh nodded and agreed, Wynn questioned. Where Hugh consulted his books, Wynn simply knew on a hunch. But they were brothers through and through. If one was in trouble, the other was right there next to him.”
“Wynn spoke fondly of him.”
“They were the best of friends, but from the beginning they had their roles. Hugh always knew he would inherit one day and modeled that role of responsibility to a T. Wynn, on the other hand, was left to enjoy his freedom. I confess, we may have spoiled him a bit, but he was never one to sit around and wait to be petted. He always had to do. Still does. He’ll never give up if there’s a path worth pursuing.”
“In Russia we call that having the head of a bull.”
“One of his most endearing qualities, but then I suspect you already know that.”
“I’ve noted it a time or two.”
“I don’t know the circumstances of your marriage to my son. Perhaps the whirlwind of a wartime romance that I hope you’ll tell me all about one day. I want you to know how happy I am to have you in our family. With you, the MacCallan name and legacy will live on and Thornhill will thrive once more. These halls may always carry a sadness for me, but you, my new daughter, have brought the beginning of happiness.”
“Happiness,” Svetlana repeated as if the word were foreign to her. It certainly was not a concept she had dwelled on of late. Revolution, murder, and survival tended to block out any pretense of the notion, but coming to Scotland in this new life had swept away the old fears. Happiness and the ability to pursue it no longer had to be denied.
Constance must have noted her hesitation as she patted her arm in understanding. “We all merit a go at it, do we not? Life is too short to let the uncertainties haunt us, and a woman of your strength deserves reasons to smile.”
Warmth rushed through Svetlana. “Thank you, Mother Constance. I hope I am worthy of your praise.”
Her mother-in-law patted her hand, and Svetlana didn’t pull away. “Just be yourself, dear. I can’t ask for more than that.”
“Ask for more than what?” Mama appeared in the doorway, eyes slanting between Svetlana and Constance. She wore a purple gown. Not having personally known Hugh, she declared full black mourning was unnecessary.
Svetlana withdrew her hand from Constance’s and smoothed the black velvet of her skirt. She’d ordered an entire trousseau befitting her newly married station from Glasgow but her mourning clothes from a local seamstress. The woman’s eyes had nearly popped out of her head to have a princess patron her shop. Svetlana decided to place more orders through her in the future to boost the local economy.
“Acceptance into the family.”
“Oh. The Dukes and Duchesses of Kilbid.”
“Kilbride.”