03 - The Wicked Lady (26 page)

Ian started at the young scamp. There wasn't any way on God's green earth that the boy could be related to Kristen. But this lad seemed to think differently, and Ian could see it was a very important subject with the child. Perhaps, Kristen was all the child had.

"Well, now, if ye insist that Kristen is yer sister, then that would make me yer grandpa," Ian informed him.

"Really?" Hagan's brows knitted together. "I had a grandmere for awhile, but I've never had a grandfather."

Ian reached down and scooped Hagan up into his arms. "Well, ye have one now." He put Hagan down. "Come on." Ian placed his hands on both their backs and urged them down the hall. " 'Tis time tae meet the rest of yer family. And I want tae hear all about what happened while ye were gone."

They were escorted into a huge room that held several settees and three big fireplaces. A girl with long black hair sat before the fire doing needlepoint. Putting down her sewing, she stood and tu
rned to face them. She gasped, putting her hand over her mouth. " 'Tis her," she barely whispered.

Kristen stared at what easily could have been her own image, and realized this was the girl she'd seen the day she'd fallen off her horse. She hadn't been dreaming. She had truly seen herself that day she'd fallen. It was if she were looking in a mirror. The only difference was that her sister's hair was as black as soot.

The girl walked over to Kristen. "My lost sister," the girl said, sweeping Kristen into a hug.

"Kristen, this is yer twin, Keely," Ian said, voice thick with emotion.

"Look, Kristen. She looks just like you," Hagan exclaimed. " 'Cept her hair is the wrong color."

Kristen couldn't believe what she was seeing. She felt as if she were in a fog, watching everything around her, but none of it seemed real.

" 'Tis what they mean by twins," Kristen explained, looking at her brother. "Keely, this is my brother, Hagan."

"Brother?" Keely looked at Kristen as if she were daft.

" 'Tis a long story," Kristen said.

"Hello, Hagan." Keely bent down and squeezed his arm affectionately. "Come, let's sit down so ye can tell us where ye've been all these years."

"I dinna know where tae start. I lived with my mother and stepfather. We had very little money and when Myra died I became more or less a thief." Kristen had to smile at Keely's gasp. Kristen went on telling them what she knew, and they were quiet until she mentioned Trevor.

"Ye married a cursed Englishmon!" Ian shouted. He jumped to his feet, his face was as red as a rose.

"Aye, I did. He's the one who told me about ye."

"I'll wager he had nothin' good tae say about us. And Constance can be an angry old bat."

Kristen smiled when Ian used her pet name for Constance. "I discovered that she only pretended tae be gruff. She could be quite nice when she let down her defenses. I will miss her." Kristen swallowed a lump of emotion and said no more. When she looked at Ian she found him watching her intently as she talked about Constance. "Have ye ever met Trevor? Kristen asked.

"Haven't spoken tae a Chatsworth since I met Edward that day on the Glen," Ian said stubbornly, folding his arms across his broad chest.

This one was as stubborn as Trevor, Kristen realized. "Then ye dinna know a thing about him."

"He's still a Claremont."

" 'Tis the same thing he says about ye," Kristen said, trying to suppress a giggle. "Perhaps, one day ye can tell me what the argument was about."

"Perhaps," Ian replied grudgingly. "Let's get ye both settled into yer home. We'll have plenty of time for getting acquainted now that ye've come home."

God, his head hurt!

Trevor's head felt three times its normal size as he rolled over and tried to remember exactly where he was, and exactly what had happened.

The floor?

How in the hell had he wound up on the floor?

Struggling for balance, he managed to sit upright. Pain shot through his eyes as he wrapped his arms around his knees and rested his head on folded arms. It took many long minutes before the spinning subsided.

Now he remembered
.

The liquor still seeped from the pours of his body, fouling the air with its sour stench. He smelled like one of the seaman he'd passed so many times lying on the docks. Did th
ey all feel this bloody awful? How in the hell had he gotten so drunk? It wasn't something he usually did.

And definitely something he intended never again to do.

Wondering just how long he'd been on the floor, he struggled to get to his feet. How was he going to get rid of this pounding headache?

Ever so slowly, he made his way out of his study. He used the walls to support him, but when he reached the stairs they loomed like a steep mountain above him. He thought about getting on his hands and knees and crawling up the stairs, but with great effort he managed to slowly climb them.

He paused at the top, sweating and gasping for breath. He instructed the first maid who came to him to prepare his bath.

Maybe drowning was the answer.

When the water had been delivered to his room, and he was alone again, Trevor sank into the steamy water and rested his throbbing head on the back of the tub. He'd have to get better just to die, he thought miserably.

Half an hour later, his headache started to abate, and flashes of yesterday's events began to gallop through his mind like a stampeding herd of horses. Trevor flinched. He didn't like what he was remembering.

He knew that Kristen was afraid of drunks. Was that why he'd over-indulged? Had he been trying to send her away from him?

He would have to explain as soon as he dressed.  Perhaps an apology would help.

When he finished bathing, he felt a little more human, but just a little. He groped his way over to the connecting door and let himself into Kristen's dressing room.

She wasn't there.

Trevor glanced around the room. The wardrobe door stood half-open and clothes were strewn across the bed. He stumbled over to the wardrobe doors. There were still clothes hanging! He dared hope that she was elsewhere in the house.

H
owever, when he went to Hagan's bedroom, he found it just as empty. All his clothes were in place, yet there was a deserted air about it.

She must be here somewhere.

He started down the hall, opening every door and checking in every room.

Nothing!

Next, he started questioning the servants. When he turned up nothing, he decided to go to the stables.

It had occurred to him that he hadn't seen Hagan, either. Cold dread spread over Trevor like frost on a blade of grass.

He sprinted to the stable and upon entering the building. "Baxter!" Trevor called out crisply.

The small man came post haste from the back of the stable. "Yes, Your Grace."

"Have you seen my wife?"

"Not today, sir." Baxter hesitated. Two deep lines of worry appeared between his eyes.

"What are you not telling me?"

"They rode off yesterday."

"They?"

Baxter's expression grew serious. "Lady Kristen and Hagan."

"And they have not returned?" Trevor snapped, though he already knew the answer.

"No, Your Grace. I sent David with them, and he said they went to Johnstone's. She told him to return to Chatsworth with the horses because they wouldn't be returning."

"I see." Trevor rubbed the back of his neck. His head felt as though it would burst, if that were possible.

So, she'd gone to her family. What else could he have expected? That she would stay because
she loved him? Had he hoped that she did care enough?  Surely, he hadn't grown that soft.

Then he remembered the jewels she'd hidden from him. Evidently, she had planned to leave him anyway, so it was better that it had happened now. From this moment on, Kristen would be dead to him. He would have all reminders of her removed from his home before the sun went down.

He knew, then, that love didn't exist, except in his grandmother's mind.

He'd been foolish to think--  He broke off the thought and ran a hand through his hair.

He wouldn't be so foolish again.

Three weeks had passed, and Kristen still felt strange with her new family. The fact that she missed Trevor didn't help, but she tried not to think of him.

Scotgrow, her grandfather's manor, didn't feel like home, though she'd been born to it, but she was trying to adjust. All her childhood dreams now made sense to her. She hadn't been dreaming, but remembering bits of her childhood all this time. Her life could have been so different had she not been stolen away, she thought sadly. It could have been full of flowers, silks, and all of the finer things.

As the weeks dragged by, she and Keely grew bonded. Like most sisters, they talked and giggled, except they were closer since they were twins. However, Keely was vastly different from Kristen. Keely was a proper lady with genteel manners. She'd never seen life beyond the walls of Scotgrow. She had had everything Kristen hadn't.

Kristen couldn't imagine living a life so confined. It was true that she hadn't been raised in the life of luxury, but she had truly tasted life on the other side. The things she had learned could never come from books. Looking back, she probably wouldn't have traded those experiences, no matter how bad they were, because she knew she had grown from each one.

But having experienced that life, she now felt suspended between both worlds. She didn't feel as if she belonged in either one.

After days of drizzling rain, the weather finally grew mild with a gentle breeze. The climate was never very warms, she'd learn.

Kristen and Keely decided to go for a picnic lunch. They along with Hagan rode away from the house on their horses with a basket packed with a feast. They settled on a nice grassy hill where they spread their blankets and laid out the food on top. Hagan didn't have to be asked twice to eat. His exuberance showed how much he was enjoying his lunch.

After they ate, Kristen noticed Hagan was sitting in a corner playing with a blade of grass. He should be up running around, she thought.

"Are ye all right, Hagan?" Kristen asked.

"I guess so." He sighed, and Kristen could see that same sadness she'd seen in him for the past two weeks, and she wasn't sure what to do about it.

Hagan had been polite to Ian and Keely, but he wasn't his usually happy self. He'd been so withdrawn. She had a hunch that Hagan missed Trevor, and she knew she missed the man--so much it hurt. Yet, Trevor had not come after her.  Obviously, he wanted nothing more to do with them.  He was probably very happy to have them out of his hair.

"Why don't ye ride yer pony for a while so Keely and I can sit here and talk?"

"All right." Hagan scrambled to his feet and wiped his hands on the back of his breeches. Kristen shook her head. When would he remember to use his napkin?

"Dinna go far."

Hagan gave her a grin that reminded her of his old self, then he mounted his pony.

"He's a bonny lad," Keely said.

"Aye, he is," Kristen agreed, watching him mount. "But ye've not seen the real Hagan. He's been much too quiet since we've been here. I hope he comes out of this mood soon."

"I bet he misses yer husband?"

Kristen looked at Keely and frowned. "I think he does."

"Ye've not told me much about this mon ye married. Tell me what he's like."

"
'Tis a hard question ye ask. I dinna know how tae describe a mon that's bigger than life. He's a nice to look at and his shoulders are this big." Kristen held her hands out wide. "There are times when he looks at me and I just melt into a puddle. He can be tender and kind. I hate tae say it, but I canna help myself when I'm near him. Yet, he can also be cold and withdrawn. I dinna like him much at those times because I dinna know what he's thinking or how he feels. . . .  It's all so confusing," Kristen admitted.

Keely's eyes widened, and Kristen laughed.

"And his eyes . . . they can be as blue as a morning sky or as green as the new grass."

"
'Tis a pretty picture ye painted." Keely gave her sister a puzzled look. "Why did ye leave him?"

"
'Tis a long story. Maybe I should begin with how we met." Kristen started telling her sister everything that had happened to her since she'd met Trevor. When she'd finished, Keely said nothing.

Kristen waited for her sister's reaction. She knew the story sounded farfetched, but it was all true. "Well?"

" 'Tis the most romantic thing I've ever heard," Keely said, a faraway look on her face.

"Nay, I dinna say he loved me. 'Twas just a simple agreement."

Keely opened the hamper lid so she could put everything back. "Perhaps, that's the way it started out, but I'll wager the mon loves ye."

"If that's true, the
n why hasn't he come after me? Ye've not seen him breaking the door down tae get us back."