Free Saving Grace by Julie Garwood Page A

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