Rose In Scotland (30 page)

“Because the sewing of clothes for the poor is the duty of the ladies of the castle, you ill-mannered
kempie,”
Aunt Egidia informed her sourly, peering at her over the edge of her spectacles. “You dinna hear Caroline complain, do you? And she’s sewn double the amount of clothes as you! Hush now with your wheeking, and get on with it. We’ve a dozen more shirts to hem before nuncheon.”

“And I shall be as full of holes as a crofter’s shift,” Mairi grumbled under her breath, directing a scowl at Caroline. “And you,” she said crossly, “the least you might do is not sit there smiling like a saint. Are you nae as sick of this as me?”

Caroline’s smile deepened at what she knew to be no more than good-natured teasing. “I’ve always enjoyed sewing,” she replied, passing her
needle in and out of the sturdy fabric. “It’s quite soothing, really, once one gets the hang of it.”

“Soothing?” Mairi gave a disgusted snort, even as she resumed her hemming. “Boring, ’Tis more the like of it. Well, if we must pass the time in such a ladylike manner, then we might as well do what all fine ladies do, and gossip about our neighbors. Have you heard about Flora MacGregor?”

“Who?” Caroline asked, not really interested, but always willing to indulge Mairi.

“The daughter of the village miller,” Aunt Egidia provided, her lips thinning in obvious disapproval. “And aye, I’ve heard the tale, though I dinna think ’Tis a proper topic for unwed maidens to be discussing.” A hard stare was directed at Mairi, who merely laughed.

“Now come, Auntie, and how are we poor unwed maidens to learn of the dangers that lurk from dallying with men, if we canna discuss the results?” She turned to Caroline, her green eyes bright with mischief. “Flora dallied with a man from the glen near the loch, and now she’s three months gone with child. Her father’s for shooting the fellow, once he’s wed Flora, of course, but ’Tis said he’s already taken himself off to Aberdeen. Poor Flora. It doesna look so sunny for her.”

“The hizzie ought to have known better than to be lifting her skirts without taking the proper care,” Aunt Egidia opined with another sniff. “What Highland lassie doesna know the good of a visit to a wisewoman? She was after getting herself with child, if you want my thought on it,
so that she could force the man into marrying her.”

“What is a wisewoman?” Caroline asked, all this talk of children making her nervous. “Do you mean a witch?”

Aunt Egidia glared at her. “An English word, is
witch,”
she said with a frown. “Here in the Highlands where we dinna have fine doctors waiting to attend our every hurt, ’Tis the wise-women and the healers who see to people’s needs. A wisewoman knows many things, including what herb a lass might eat to make certain a man’s seed doesna find a home in her belly. If Flora MacGregor had kept her wits about her, she’d have gone to the wisewoman near the cairns and seen to the matter. But as she didna …” She lifted her shoulders in an indifferent shrug.

“I heard Annie talking, and she says Flora never even guessed she was breeding,” Mairi continued with a shake of her head. “It was only when she began losing her breakfast each morning that the truth of the matter dawned on her.”

Caroline winced as she jabbed the needle in her hand. For the past several mornings, the smell of food had been enough to set her stomach churning. And this morning she’d had a brief dizzy spell when coming down the front steps. If she hadn’t grabbed the banister, she was certain she would have fallen. What if …

“Aye, the girl was ever as thick as a plank of oak,” Aunt Egidia agreed. “The stopping of her monthly flow ought to have told her something, but expecting wit from a MacGregor is like expecting eggs from a cow. ‘Twillna happen.”

Caroline did some quick calculations. She and Hugh had been man and wife for over three months, and in all that time she’d had but one flow. Dear God! She dropped the shirt she was hemming, her eyes going wide with shock. Was it possible she was breeding? The idea brought a dreamy smile to her lips.

“Well, I’m glad you can find humor in the poor girl’s ruin.” Aunt Egidia had noted the smile and was frowning at Caroline reproachfully. “For as the lady of the castle, ‘twill fall to you to find a position for her and the bairn if her father canna force the man to do what is right.”

“Mayhap Hugh might find a husband for her,” Mairi suggested. “Douglass Badenoch lost his wife last fall, and he’s three small ones in need of a mother. ’Tis something you might want to mention to him, Caroline. Caroline?”

“What?” Caroline looked at her, then blinked as she realized some reply was expected. “Oh. Oh, yes, Mairi, thank you; I shall be certain do to that.”

The topic turned to other matters: who was flirting with whose wife, and what handsome young man had more than his fill at the taproom and got miserably sick during services the following morning, but Caroline listened with only half an ear.
A baby
, she thought, laying a gentle hand on her stomach. A son, perhaps, with Hugh’s hair and eyes, and his fiery sense of honor. Or a little girl, mayhap, with red curls and a shy, sweet smile. Mairi was lovely as a picture, and she was certain her daughter would surely favor her aunt.

In the next moment her eyes were burning
with unshed tears. The arrangement she and Hugh had entered into had made no mention of children. What would happen if she was breeding? And what if the babe was a boy, an heir to the MacColme name and lands? She knew Hugh too well to think he would allow her to take his son with her when she left. Would she be forced to leave her child behind, as well as the man she was coming to care for more and more with each passing day? Tears began flowing down her cheeks at the thought.

“Caroline!” Mairi gave a horrified cry, tossing her mending down and hurrying to Caroline’s side. “Dearest, what is wrong?”

“Nothing,” Caroline denied, laughing unevenly and dabbing at her eyes. “It is only the mending that is making my eyes burn. The light in here is very poor.”

“I’ll fetch another brace of candles for you,” Mairi promised, rising to her feet. “In the meanwhile, mind you rest your poor eyes. Auntie, keep watch on Caroline while I am gone, will you? Dinna let her work anymore.” And with that she turned and hurried from the room.

“Aye,” Egidia said softly, her gaze sharp with speculation as she studied Caroline. “I’ll keep an eye on her, all right.”

T
he letter from Edinburgh was waiting for Caroline when she came down to breakfast the following morning. The return address was that of the solicitor she’d engaged to help her find a house, and she quickly opened it, curious as to why he should write her after all these weeks. Curiosity turned to delight when she read that the house she and Mairi had toured that momentous day was still available. The developers were most anxious to sell, Mr. Penderson assured her, and she would need to give them her answer as quickly as possible. He then went on to quote a price that had her smiling, it was so low. She was still smiling when she walked into the morning room and found Mairi and Aunt Egidia already tucking into their food.

“Good morning!” she said, giving both ladies an affectionate kiss before taking her seat. “How are you this fine morning?”

Mairi’s gaze went to the window, where storm clouds were dulling the weak sunshine. “A fine morning, is it?” she said, her green eyes bright with laughter. “When we’ll have a Highland storm before lunch is served? It’s an odd sense
of
fine
you must have, to be saying such things.”

“Quit your blitherin’, you ill-mannered child, and let the poor girl have her porridge in peace!” Aunt Egidia snapped, bending a fierce scowl on Mairi. “How many times must I be telling you to mind that tongue of yours?”

Mairi sent Caroline a saucy wink. “Times out of telling, Auntie,” she said serenely. “And you can see yourself the edifying effect it has had upon me.”

Even Aunt Egidia had to laugh at that, giving the younger woman’s hand a teasing slap. “It’s a spinster you’re fated to be, Mairi MacColme, with that will of yours,” she said, shaking her head in resignation. “I can think of no man with either the patience or the courage to tame you.”

“Then I am better off a spinster, aren’t I?” Mairi asked with an indifferent shrug, “And for your information, Auntie, I’d rather spend all my days alone than handfasted to some great bore of man who thinks to tame me to his hand.” She gave Caroline a conspiratorial grin.

“I want a marriage like Caroline’s and Hugh’s. It’s openness and trust they have between them, and respect as well. I want that, and if I canna have it, I’ll have nothing at all.”

Caroline’s smile faded, and she applied herself to her bowl of porridge with an enthusiasm she seldom showed for the thick, heavy cereal Aunt Egidia insisted be served each morning.
Openness and respect
, she thought unhappily. Was that really how Mairi saw her and Hugh’s marriage? If only it were so.

“I have a letter from Mr. Penderson,” she said, hiding her troubling thoughts behind bright
chatter. “Do you remember the house we looked at in Edinburgh, Mairi? The one on St. Andrew Square?”

“Only the rich and the foreigners live on St. Andrew Square,” Aunt Egidia observed sourly, dipping her toast into her egg.

“Aye, I remember it,” Mairi said, replying as if Aunt Egidia hadn’t spoken. “It was a grand place, with a large entryway and the prettiest rooms. You wanted to buy it, didn’t you?”

“Very much so,” Caroline assured her, remembering her delight in the stunning house. “I even asked Mr. Penderson to have papers drawn up, but then—” She broke off, paling at the memory of all that had followed.

“Is the house still available?” Mairi reached out to give Caroline’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “Is that why Mr. Penderson has written you?”

In answer Caroline handed Mairi the letter. She read it quickly, her eyebrows climbing in surprise.

“Four thousand pounds!” she exclaimed. “For a single house? That’s rather dear, isn’t it?”

“I thought the price more than reasonable,” Caroline replied, surprised by her reaction. “In London, homes of this sort go for two and sometimes even three times that amount.”

“That’s because in London there are fools willing to pay,” Aunt Egidia retorted, snatching the letter from Mairi and reading it as well. “Hmph! Presumptuous fellow, isn’t he? Offering to come to the castle to have the papers signed. It’s English he must be, to be so bold.”

Although Caroline knew the old woman meant no ill, her words still stung. Was that how
Hugh felt? she brooded. The Scots bore the English such enmity, and the more he was with his people, the more Scots Hugh became. Would he soon come to share their feelings? To regard her as no more than an interloper, an enemy who was never to be welcomed amongst them?

“Caroline?” Mairi was studying her curiously. “Is everything all right? Did you not hear Auntie?”

Caroline shook off her dark musings, and pinned a smile to her lips. “Yes, I heard her,” she said, pushing her bowl away from her, her appetite gone. “I was only thinking I would tell Mr. Penderson to bring the papers. I’ve decided to buy the house.”

Mairi gave her her enthusiastic congratulations, offering several suggestions for colors and fabrics for the drapes and carpets Caroline would need. Aunt Egidia remained oddly silent, holding her tongue until after Mairi had dashed off in search of a cabinetmaker’s book she had in her room. An uneasy silence fell between the two ladies, and in her blunt way, Aunt Egidia was the first to break it.

“I hope you took no offense by what I said, child,” she said, her faded eyes direct as she met Caroline’s gaze. “I meant no harm; upon that I give you my word.”

Caroline believed her at once. “I know you didn’t, Aunt,” she said gently. “And I’m not hurt—”

“Yes, you are,” Aunt Egidia interrupted, scowling. “And for that I am most heartily sorry. Hating the English is as natural to a Scot as
drawing breath, and there are times I forget you are nae of the clans. Am I forgiven?”

“Of course you are.”

“Good.” Aunt Egidia gave a decisive nod. “Then you won’t mind my telling you you’re doing a foolish thing by buying this house without first consulting Hugh. He has his pride, you know, and it will chafe sorely at your making such a purchase without so much as a by-your-leave.”

Caroline conceded the truth of that, but she was nonetheless adamant. She was fairly certain she was with child, and if so, she knew she could not return to England as she had originally planned. Even if she and Hugh divorced as intended, she couldn’t leave Scotland. She had grown to love it too much.

“I will think about it,” she temporized, knowing Aunt Egidia would argue her into the ground if she refused outright. “Much as I want the house, I wouldn’t wish to upset Hugh.”

Aunt Egidia gave her a suspicious scowl. “Then you mean to discuss this with him?” she asked.

“Certainly,” Caroline assured her. “Why should I not?”

“Mayhap because of the way you keep other matters from him,” Aunt Egidia said, eyeing Caroline knowingly. “ ’Tis none of my business, I am sure, but there are some secrets, lassie, that cannot be kept forever. Some cannot be kept beyond a few months.”

The older woman’s remarks weighed heavily on Caroline’s mind as she strolled about the gardens later that morning. Hugh had left strict orders
she was always to be accompanied when she left the house, but since she didn’t intend to leave the grounds, she saw no reason why she should wait until one of the men Hugh deemed a suitable escort could be found. And, she admitted with a flash of honesty, she was in no mood to obey her masterful husband.

At first she kept to the well-tended gardens, pausing occasionally to sniff a rose or listen to the sweet sound of a lark’s song. But as she worked through the puzzle of her marriage to Hugh, and what would happen when she told him of her suspicions, she forgot her innocent intentions. Instead of turning back when she reached the outer walls, she wandered through the gates and off into the Highlands, in search of answers to questions she yet possessed the courage to ask.

By the time she realized her mistake she was a good mile from the castle, and it took her almost forty minutes to find her way back. She walked around to the back of the house, hoping to slip in unnoticed and thus escape a scolding should Aunt Egidia catch her. She had just reached the door leading into the library when it was suddenly flung open. Hugh stood there, his arms folded across his chest and a look of black fury glittering in his eyes.