A Maxwell Mourned (5 page)

‘Of course,’ Rachel repeated. She was shrewd enough to understand Ross was still finding it difficult to accept that he had fathered a child. She had found it difficult to accept that babies were made so easily too, but she sensed his lingering doubt and she was hurt.

‘You will be Mrs Maxwell before we go to Lochandee. No one will know the circumstances of our marriage and the child’s birth.’

‘Not even your wonderful Mrs Beattie?’

‘Least of all Mrs Beattie,’ Ross said more sharply than he had intended. ‘You will like her Rachel, I promise you,’ he added more gently.

‘Maybe I shall, maybe not. The truth is Ross, I cannot go with you.’

Chapter Five

R
OSS RETURNED TO
L
OCHANDEE
the morning after the funeral, filled with disappointment. He was also anxious as he recalled the lines from a poem.

Oh! what a tangled web we weave,

When first we practi
se to deceive!

He had not intended to deceive Alice Beattie but he knew she would be wondering about Rachel, and now he was returning without the wife he had claimed to have. He bit his lip in frustration.

He had missed Rachel so much during their months apart. He could not accept any obstacle to their union now. He longed to have her at his side again. In his mind he went over and over their conversation. He knew his voice had risen with anger and dismay as he repeated her words.

‘Cannot go! Why can’t you go with me? Why?

‘I made a promise to Peter, and to Meg. I cannot leave them until after Meg’s baby is born. You know she’s not so young for a first baby and there is so much work to do with the children and the shop, the bakery. We have four cows … I make the butter to sell. Don’t you see? They need me.’

‘I need you!’

‘You have managed very well without me for more than a year,’ Rachel reminded him.

‘I thought you didn’t want to be associated with me. I was shocked, confused, forbidden to return.’ Even he felt his excuses were feeble now. ‘Meg will find someone else to help.’

‘The children are used to me. I know the routine of the bakery and the household. Meg needs to rest more. The doctor has warned her and Peter is terrified in case anything happens to her. I promised I would not leave her and I owe them both a debt I can never repay. They gave me a home when I was alone.’ Her gaze held his steadily. He flushed with guilt and anger.

‘This is different, Rachel. I am asking you to be my wife and you have to think about our future – and your son’s future.’

‘Our son! He’s your son too, Ross whether you like him or not.’

‘Our son then but surely you want to be married now?’

‘Yes, I suppose I do …’ Rachel said doubtfully.

‘Either you want to marry me or you don’t!’

‘There was nothing I wanted more when I knew I was to have your child,’ Rachel told him bleakly. ‘But you were not there. Everyone in Ardmill knows he was born out of wedlock,’ she added bitterly, ‘A few more months will make little difference.’

‘A few months? Months!’

‘We can be married whenever you arrange it, but I shall not leave Meg until she has had her baby and recovered.’ Rachel’s mouth set. ‘I owe my life to Peter Sedgeman – and possibly Conan’s life too. I shall keep my promise to him.’

It was a relief to be back at Lochandee and find Alice Beattie accepted him as before.

‘I feel as though I have come home,’ he told her later that evening while they sat in front of the blazing fire drinking the bedtime cocoa she had brought on a tray.

‘That pleases me more than I can say, Ross,’ she smiled warmly. ‘I confess it was a surprise to hear you have a wife and son though. I pray they will feel as much a part of Lochandee as you do.’ She was cautious, stifling the questions she longed to ask, the doubts and fears she had experienced when she received Ross’s letter. He was so young to be married. He had been away more than a year. When had the child been born? Had Ross been trapped into marriage by some cheating hussy? Was the child really his?

‘I hope Rachel will be happy here too,’ Ross agreed fervently. ‘I tried hard to persuade her to come back with me but she is determined to keep her promise to Meg and Peter to stay until their baby is born.’

‘I can understand your disappointment, laddie, but perhaps if Rachel forgot her promises easily she would not have earned your respect or your love? In the Bible I believe Jacob waited seven years before he could make his Rachel his wife. If you truly love your Rachel, and if she truly loves you, it will be worth waiting surely?’

‘Yes,’ Ross sighed heavily, ‘you’re right. It just seems such a long time until May.’

Alice realised there were still many things she did not know, things which did not add up and which she did not understand. She was relieved to have Ross back and she slept more soundly, but she could not banish her doubts about this unknown wife. Ross’s future as joint tenant of The Glens of Lochandee would depend on more than his own ability now. If she did not like the girl, worse, if she did not trust her?

Alice would have been surprised to know that Rachel’s doubts and fears equalled her own. Ross had been sparing with details and Rachel had no idea whether the Mistress of Lochandee was a pretty young widow, or another vindictive woman like Gertrude Maxwell. She felt unable to cope with either and half of her wanted to stay in the shelter of her present existence.

Meg felt guilty knowing that Rachel had refused to go with Ross on her account.

‘If I can repay a little of your kindness I shall be happy,’ Rachel assured her. ‘Besides … it will give Ross time to get used to the idea of having a son. I don’t want him to marry me because of Conan, but because he loves him as a father should.’

‘Oh, but he will! Conan is a lovely boy …’ Meg sighed. ‘I shall miss him terribly. I wish you did not have to go so far away.’

Ross had been back at Lochandee nearly three weeks. It had become a ritual to write a little every evening for Rachel, then post her a long letter each week.

‘I want her to understand – really understand – how much The Glens of Lochandee and the work and the cattle mean to me,’ he told Alice. ‘I want her to share my dreams of the future …’ He broke off, staring into the burning embers of the fire. ‘We shared everything before …before I left her alone …’ he finished in a hoarse whisper.

Alice watched his troubled expression then she voiced the suggestion she had been mulling over since Ross’s return.

‘I think Beth’s father would be willing to help with the work again if you would like to spend another weekend with your family, Ross.’ There was no mistaking the flare of longing in his eyes when he looked up from the page, his pen poised in mid air.

‘Do you think he would?’ he asked eagerly, ‘And you? Would you mind me going away so soon?’

‘Not if it would make you happy, laddie. As a matter of fact I think it would be a good idea if Rachel came back with you for a night or two. I should like to meet her and I’m sure she will be keen to know what we are like and where she will live?’

‘Bring her here, to stay?’ Ross was surprised.

‘Of course. Where else would your wife stay?’ Alice asked. She regarded Ross’s sudden flush and wondered what other secrets had he hidden away.

Ross was filled with exhilaration at the prospect of seeing Rachel so soon. He wondered whether Peter would be able to help him arrange their wedding. Rachel would feel easier if she was truly his wife – indeed he knew neither of them would be able to deceive Alice Beattie if they were not truly married, and she would certainly expect them to sleep together.

He wrote without delay and waited in a frenzy of impatience for replies from both Meg and Rachel.

Rachel looked forward to Ross’s weekly letters but it troubled her that he wrote so enthusiastically about his daily work and Lochandee, yet he barely commented on her own loving descriptions of his young son’s achievements.

‘He will soon learn to love Conan once you are all together,’ Meg reassured her. ‘Peter has talked to the minister and the marriage ceremony can be arranged for the evening Ross arrives.’

Rachel felt she was being swept into marriage on a tide of propriety and convenience.

‘It’s only two months before your baby is due, Meg,’ she said desperately. ‘I don’t think I ought to go away at all.’

‘I shall be fine,’ Meg promised. ‘Mrs Jenkins will be here to help with the children. Peter has made enquiries about a live-in nursemaid when you go to live at Lochandee.’

So Rachel and Ross were married at the beginning of April shortly after Rachel’s eighteenth birthday. It was a quiet, simple ceremony which could not have been a greater contrast to the society wedding of the Duke of York and the Lady Elizabeth Bowes-Lyon which had been arranged to take place later in the month. However Polly and the twins had new dresses and their excitement was infectious. Even Sam Dewar donned his best suit and top hat and came to the church to act as witness. Afterwards he kissed Rachel’s cheek shyly.

‘Now remember, Rachel, if ever you need a friend, I am here. There will always be a roof for you and your bairn.’

Ross overheard and frowned. At the first opportunity he asked Meg about Sam Dewar.

‘Och, he’s a nice old man. He’s very shy, but he has taken to Rachel.’

‘Oh, has he …?’

‘We have all become friends,’ Meg amended quickly, ‘since Rachel started milking the cows in his byre. If you had not returned he was going to ask Rachel to move into his house as his housekeeper. Of course she doesn’t know that because you came back before he got around to suggesting it. He talked it over with Peter last autumn.’

‘I see …’ Ross frowned and his eyes strayed to the toddler who was pulling himself to his feet on the edge of a chair. Meg followed his glance and her eyes softened.

‘He’s a lovely bairn. We shall all be sorry when he and Rachel go away. I suppose there’s no chance of you coming back up here to farm, Ross?’ she pleaded.

‘No, definitely not. You would love The Glens of Lochandee, Meg.’

‘Well, I hope Rachel loves it as much as you seem to do,’ she retorted more sharply than she had intended.

Rachel felt shy and embarrassed when Ross accompanied her to the bedroom she shared with Conan. Where else would a husband sleep but with his wife. She had not really considered the implications of being married. Everything had been such a rush.

She need not have worried. As soon as they were alone together Ross drew her into his arms. All the old magic was rekindled. Her fears melted away, indeed her very bones seemed to melt beneath Ross’s gentle caresses. There was nothing gentle about the fire which flared between them in an all enveloping, ever increasing desire, joining them in an ecstasy of perfect union.

They were wakened by Conan’s early morning chortling.

‘Whatever was that?’ Ross demanded, suddenly wide awake at the unfamiliar sounds.

‘It’s only Conan,’ Rachel laughed softly. ‘He’s letting us know he’s ready for a morning cuddle before I go to milk the cows. Come then, my wee love.’ She leaned over and lifted the toddler into bed, setting him between them. This did not please either Ross or his son. Ross had forgotten about the baby’s presence in the same room and he had been anticipating a repeat of the previous night’s delights. Conan, on the other hand, stared unnervingly at the strange man in his mother’s bed, then he opened his mouth and howled with unbelievable volume. Rachel was forced to lift him away from Ross and give him all her attention before he would be quiet.

Ross and Rachel had their first argument later that same morning. It was over Conan too. It had not occurred to Ross that Rachel would expect to take the child to Lochandee.

‘And where else would he go but with his mother?’ she demanded, her eyes flashing more green than blue with indignation.

‘I thought … I expected he would stay with Meg …’

‘Don’t you think Meg has more than enough to do? Conan is at a very demanding stage and needs a lot of attention. If I go with you to Lochandee, Conan goes too.’

Her tone was firm. Privately she was concerned about Meg’s health. She had been easily exhausted since the funeral and Rachel had noticed her ankles were swollen by evening. Ross recognised the stubborn set of her mouth. He was forced to accept her ultimatum.

‘It’s just that Mistress Beattie did not – she didn’t mention inviting your son.’

‘Conan is our son – ours, Ross.’

‘Umm, yes, I know … but where will he sleep?’

‘He can sleep in the bed with us if there is nowhere else. Your Mistress Beattie will have to get used to the idea that we have a child. If she does not like him we shall not stay any longer than it takes us to catch the next train home. Perhaps it is just as well we are making this visit. Maybe I should have made it before we married.’

Later that night, in Ross’s warm embrace Rachel knew she loved him with all her heart. Even for Conan she could not truly regret her marriage, but she prayed fervently that the two would learn to love each other as she loved them both.

Ross was taken aback by the amount of luggage a baby seemed to require for such a short visit but he was amused and delighted by the wide eyed stare of his wife and child as the railway carriage hurtled them through the fields, or covered them with sooty smuts as they chugged their way through eerie black tunnels.

Rachel was tense with apprehension by the time they reached The Glens of Lochandee, and Ross felt the atmosphere was positively electric as Alice Beattie came forward to greet them.

‘I-I know you were not expecting three of us,’ he rushed nervously into speech to breach the awkward silence. ‘But we had to bring the child because …’

‘Of course I was expecting your son,’ Alice assured him swiftly. ‘Beth and I have been busy rescuing my own old crib from the attic. We have washed and polished it. It looks as good as new and it’s in your bedroom.’

Rachel could have hugged her for that gesture of welcome to her small son and her smile shone forth in all its warmth. Alice smiled back warily and looked down at Conan. He had slept on the journey from the station and wakened refreshed. He beamed widely up at Alice, captivating her instantly.

‘I will show you where everything is before it’s time to start the milking,’ Alice suggested. ‘I am afraid the cows have to be attended whether we have visitors or not.’

‘I am used to that,’ Rachel nodded, bending to lift Conan on one hip and clutching his bag of baby clothes in her free hand. ‘Usually I strap Conan into his perambulator while I am milking. If Ross can find a barrel of hay or some other safe place in the byre to restrain him, I will gladly help you.’

Alice Beattie blinked. The girl was not lazy or unwilling then. She was certainly pretty and her neat russet jacket and skirt accentuated her slender waist and suited the colour of her hair. Alice could not have guessed it was Rachel’s one good outfit, bought especially for her wedding. So far so good, Alice decided, unaware that Rachel was assessing herself with equal caution.