A Year and a Day (38 page)

“No,” Cait muttered. It wasn’t done properly, that much she could admit. Besides, her year with Ewan was over. At least she had little Robert to show for it. “If it’s the same to you…” Cait began slowly, “I’d really rather not go.” She was expecting her lady to politely agree and dismiss her. She was astonished, therefore, when Isobel’s eyes flashed hotly.

“It was not a request, Mrs. Greer!” she said hotly. “I’m too old to go gallivanting around the countryside on my own. I appreciate that we’ve developed a…friendship…but that doesn’t mean that you are free to take advantage of the relationship by shirking your duties when you are requested to perform them.”

Cait recoiled, feeling as if she’d just been slapped. She felt a surge of shame- and then of self-recrimination. She really
did
take advantage of Lady Frasure’s friendship. “Of course, milady,” she responded meekly, despite the fact that her heart was racing a hundred miles an hour. She
couldn’t
go to Castle Cameron! She simply couldn’t! There had to be a way out!

Only, there wasn’t. Over the following week, Cait tried every trick that she could think of in her attempt to get away. She feigned sickness (both her own, and Robert’s), only to be thwarted by the good castle doctor- who recommended a change of view! She created important business that couldn’t be missed- only to be informed that “the
Laird
’ took precedence over anything else that she might be inclined to do.

Finally, in a bit of desperation, Cait pretended not to recall the time that they were meant to set off, having none of her packing finished, in the hopes that the
Laird
and Lady would go on without her. To her horror, Isobel had responded by sending
eight
housemaids up to help her pack- and they hadn’t been delayed more than half an hour.

She
could
have run away, Cait thought, sitting up on the box with the driver. Lady Frasure had Robert with her in the carriage, doting and fussing over him happily as if he were her own grandson- so that Cait half-imagined that her
real
purpose on the journey was to serve as wet nurse for her son. Over the near year she’d spent with the Frasures, she’d managed to regrow her savings, and so there was no reason that she couldn’t now complete her original plan and flee to Edinburgh, and then to London and beyond. She supposed, worryingly, that she had simply become comfortable at Castle Frasure- comfortable enough to
take on
a great degree of risk!

Sitting on top of the carriage, watching unfamiliar scenery scroll by, Cait tried to think of the
worst
that could possibly happen. She supposed that Ewan might see her, and accuse her of having run away. That was perfectly true, of course- but she would counter that it had all worked out for the best. He was marrying a woman suitable for her situation and she…?
She had moved on
, Cait schooled herself to tell him. It would be a mistake to let him know about little Robert. It wasn’t fair, perhaps, but probably for the best for all parties involved. Surely Ewan wouldn’t say anything?
After all, he
had the most to lose. He had already replaced her after all.

Cait clenched her eyes, trying to ward off the tears that instantly sprang to her eyes at when she thought of how quick
ly she had been forgotten
. True, it had
been
a
full
year, but that didn’t even begin to feel like enough time to get over the hurt- at least if he felt anything like she had- which, of course, he hadn’t.

She would simply avoid him.

Cait supposed she was at an advantage. Serving as a maid at the castle for so many years, she had become an expert at
remaining invisible
. She couldn’t imagine that she would be expected to accompany the
Laird
and his wife to the ceremony- that duty she would flatly refuse, regardless of the consequences! She would make it through- even if she didn’t know how!

Everything was happening too fast!

First, Ewan was welcoming his sister and brother-in-law into the castle. It didn’t feel like more than a heartbeat later that he was sitting in his study hearing the announcement, “Lady
MacMillan
has arrived.”

Muira was sitting with her older brother, ostensibly
to demonstrate
how little Ewan
Graem
was just about to walk, but
she was
obviously there to soothe her sibling’s nerves. She glanced at him quickly, shooting him a comforting look as he said in his most polite tone, “Please see that Lady
MacMillan
is provided with refreshments and tell her that I will be happy to receive her at her leisure after she’s had an opportunity to rest.”
 

“Of course, sir,” the maid replied, bobbed a curtsey, and then disappeared.

Muira studied her brother carefully. “Are you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” he sighed. “Besides, it’s rather too late to back out now?”

Muira looked as if she dearly wished she could disagree, but couldn’t. Instead, she scooped up the baby, and then walked to where her brother was sitting. She placed a comforting kiss on his temple. “Cait would want you to move on,” she assured him, “She’d want you to be happy again.”

“Would she?” Ewan growled. He wasn’t convinced. If
he’d
been Cait, learning what Muira had told her just before she died, he’d want nothing more than his own head on a platter- or at least to assure his permanent disability to trifle with any other women again. Then again, Cait was a merciful woman. She had always thought of others before herself. She was soft and gentle and caring and…

“Ewan?”

He blinked and looked up at his sister. “What?” he asked, noting that she had been speaking for some time.

“I asked if you wanted me to stay for the
interview.
I expect she’ll come calling soon?”

“Yes,” Ewan said firmly, and then started at a knock at the door. “Enter!” he said, hating the way that his voice almost cracked when he spoke.

The party who stepped across the threshold, however, was not his future bride.

“James!” Muira and Ewan said in unison.

“How was your journey?” Lady MacRae asked- although all three knew that the
real
question on everyone’s mind was really “What is Lady
MacMillan
like?”

“Very pleasant,” James said, with a surprising amount of evasiveness. “We made excellent time.”

“Really?” Ewan said, frowning, “We were expecting you last night.”

“Well…the weather,” James muttered and shrugged. “At any event- we’re all here now.”

“Good,” Ewan answered, although it didn’t sound as if he meant it. “And…did Lady
MacMillan
have a pleasant journey as well?” he asked, finally edging toward the questions that he meant to ask.

A strange look passed across James’ features, but was quickly gone. “Yes, I believe so,” he said, still oddly formal. “She’s being installed in her quarters now.”

“Excellent,” Ewan said. Then silence fell between the men.

Muira glanced between her brothers. She had been around men often enough to know when her presence was no longer required. She could guess what they wanted to discuss, and so she excused herself with a knowing smile. “I’ll see if Lady
MacMillan
needs any help settling in,” she announced, “I’ll bring her back here when she’s read
y
.”

“Thank you, Muira,” Ewan said, dismissing his sister. He waited until she was gone. Then, he turned anxiously toward James. “Well…” he said, taking a nervous breath, “How is she?”

James took an unusually long time to reply.

“Nice,” he answered, uncharacteristically succinct. Ewan had never known his brother to lack an extensive opinion- either positive or negative- on the charms of any woman before.

“Glowing praise,” he growled, to which James replied:

“She’s very pretty…intelligent, reserved….and the children aren’t bad. I think that she’ll do nicely.”

“Nice, again,” Ewan muttered.

“Do you
want
to fall in love with her?” James snapped, causing Ewan to pale.

“Of course not,” he muttered, and the returned to his papers.

“Well, I suppose you’ll have to decide for yourself then,” James snipped, and then let himself out of the room.

When he was alone again, Ewan sighed and shoved the papers off of his desk, wishing that Lady
MacMillan
would quit dawdling so that he could get the introductions over with! It wasn’t as if he had high hopes for their marriage. He didn’t think that he was capable of being in love again. Lady
MacMillan
was high bred and, apparently, fertile- the only qualifi
cations he required-
so it didn’t really matter if he could stand to be in the same room with her or not. Still, he was anxious. Perhaps it was the sense of guilt that he still carried for how things had ended with Cait? He had pretended that Cait was simply a marriage of convenience too- never admitting until it was much too late how desperately much he cared.

Cait hadn’t been quite so “officially suitable” as Lady
MacMillan
-
Mary
- he tried to force himself to think of the lady by name. Cait had nothing to recommend her as the wife of a
Laird
: she wasn’t high born. She wasn’t wealthy…and yet, she had been so utterly perfect for him in a way that he couldn’t completely describe- and which had so much more value than all the things that he
could!

Ewan didn’t know how much time passed. Eventually there was another knock on the door. The quick, confident rap informing him instantly that it was his sister- no doubt with his fiancé in tow.

“Enter!” Ewan bellowed, trying to sound more confident than he felt.

It was no more than a second before the door creaked open, letting Muira and the other woman inside.

James’s description of Lady
MacMillan
as “Very pretty” might have been hyperbole, considering the women of their usual acquaintance. S
he didn’t hold a candle to Cait. H
e was
instantly
annoyed with himself for auto
matically making the comparison, but it was true.
She certainly wasn’t
unattractive
, however. She had a sweet face, kind blue eyes, a clear complexion, and a nice enough figure for a
woman who already had two children
. Her wavy blonde hair was braided neatly around her head, and she was wearing a well-cut blue dress that bespoke the
MacMillan
riches.

Muira looked between the pair, clearly trying to read their initial reactions. “Ewan, this is Lady
Mary
MacMillan
,” she announced,
at which the other woman curtsi
ed.

Ewan bowed in response.

“Lady
MacMillan
, this is my brother,
Laird
Ewan Cameron.”

The lady dipped again, earning another reciprocal nod
. She
finally spoke
in a
soft, whispery voice, “I’m very pleased to meet you,
Laird
Cameron.”

“Pleased to meet you as well,” he responded, feeling as though this was all terribly wrong- as if he would be amused if it weren’t all happening to him. There was a moment of awkward silence. “Did you have a pleasant journey?” he inquired, sticking to the “script” of polite conversation, still not letting it sink in that this woman, this
stranger
was going to be his wife in a matter of days!