Enraptured (33 page)

Violet knew these things because she could not stop herself from keeping track of him. Her eyes turned toward his room each time she exited her own. She listened to the servants' chatter, carefully pretending not to hear. Now and then she even strolled down the drive toward the gatehouse, but by the time she reached the trees, she always turned
back. And if by chance she went down to get a book and found Coll prowling through the library, she did not enter the room. He was obviously avoiding her company, so she refused to seek him out, no matter how much she missed seeing him, talking to him, being in his arms.

She also refrained from mentioning the shadows that had taken up residence beneath his eyes or the lines of weariness stamped on his face. One evening she noticed a blue bruise on one cheek, which was more difficult for her to keep silent about, but a glance at his stony expression told her she would not receive an answer. Coll had walled himself off from her. She had made her choice and he had made his.

Why was the man so insistent? So determined? It seemed odd that he was ruled by other people's opinions. He had, after all, been raised unconventionally. His mother had not married, and Coll loved and respected her, just as he did his sister, who had apparently had the same sort of life, at least until the Earl of Mardoun came along. It was one of the reasons Violet had hoped that he, of all men, would understand her determination to be a free woman.

The scars of his own illegitimacy must run deep. Did he feel a respectable woman would erase the shame he'd felt in his youth? Violet remembered his words about children. She had never thought much about children, though it made her smile to think of towheaded boys who looked like Coll, coltish young girls who would grow up tall and slender. Coll would want children, love them. And clearly he refused to make them live with the shadow on their birth that he had known.

He should have children. It was wrong of her to want Coll for herself. He deserved the kind of life he yearned for. Children and a virtuous wife, marriage. Respectability and
honor. Family. Tradition. She could not be the woman he needed. Strangely, the pain that pierced her at the thought was not only for herself but also for Coll, because he had not found in her the woman he could love.

She should be content with only her work. After all, here she was with a ruin all her own, living the life she had always dreamed of. It should be enough for her. It
was
enough.

The excavation was exceeding anything she could have hoped for. They were proceeding at a good pace despite the cold and were making new discoveries almost daily, it seemed. They had uncovered the remains of the fourth wall, even finding a gap in it that marked what must have been a crude doorway. A jumble of rocks lay just outside the entrance. Curious, Violet had the men dig out from it, uncovering more stones.

“It's almost like a path,” she mused to Angus one afternoon as they stood looking down on the trench.

“Mayhap.” McKay eyed the scattered rocks doubtfully.

“And then it all ends.” She pointed to where the men were now digging, wincing as one of the trowels clanked against stone. “Careful! What have you hit?”

Violet moved closer, dropping down on her knees above the trench where Dougal worked.

He squinted up at her. “I think it's another wall, miss.”

“Another wall,” she breathed. “Going off at a right angle. Oh!” She jumped to her feet. “It's a passageway!” She whirled toward Angus. “It collapsed.”

“Wha' did?”

“A sort of tunnel, I think. Over the years, as the dirt built up above it, the weight grew to be too much, and it collapsed, just as the roof would have done back there.” She
gestured toward the first area of the dig. “But here most of the walls fell in, as well as the ceiling. Oh, this is marvelous.” She reached out to clutch McKay's arm, startling him. “Look! The stones extend from the doorway, go down a few feet, and end right where a wall starts to one side. It's another doorway.”

“Sae you're saying there's another hoose under here?” Angus gazed down to where Dougal knelt.

“I hope so. And a passageway in between!” Violet concluded triumphantly. “Low. They would have had to crawl along it, but think how useful it would have been to be able to move between the houses in the cold of winter or during raging storms. It shows a great deal of sophistication for something as early as I think these ruins are.”

Violet left the dig early and hurried up the path to Duncally, buoyed by the excitement of the find. She could hardly wait to tell Coll what they had found. He would be happy for her, even with the strain between them. Indeed, perhaps sharing this with him would break the dreadful ice between them, make it possible for them to talk again, to be at ease with each other.

She climbed the stairs and crossed the vast expanse of the formal garden. Glancing up, she saw Coll standing at the top of the stairs to the upper levels, talking to a buxom blond woman. Dot Cromartie.

Violet stopped abruptly. Her heart hammered in her chest. Coll was facing Dot, who was talking with great vivacity. They stood sideways to Violet, so she could not read Coll's expression. It was easy enough to read Dot's intentions, though, in the way she lifted her face to his and swayed closer. In a seemingly casual movement of her arm,
Dot shoved aside her cloak, exposing the white swell of her bosom above her neckline.

Violet glowered. A trifle cold, surely, for such an expanse of naked flesh.

Coll nodded to Dot, then turned and started along the path to the upper gardens. Violet let out her breath, pleased, but Dot whipped around and caught up with Coll, tucking her hand through his arm. They moved out of sight.

Violet lifted her skirts and ran to the stairs. She went up the steps as quietly as she could and started along the path the couple had taken. The walkway curled back on itself, and as she rounded the corner, suddenly there they were, not twenty feet in front of her. Violet jumped behind a tree and peered cautiously around it.

The pair had stopped beside a stone bench. Dot was smiling, tugging Coll toward the seat. Annoyingly, Violet was able to make out no words, only the light (and grating, she had to say) trill of the other woman's laughter, followed by the familiar rumble of Coll's voice. Violet's heart squeezed within her chest at the sound.

Coll turned to look around, and Violet ducked her head back behind the tree, her pulse slamming in her throat. She heard the scrape of a shoe on a flagstone. Peeking out once more, she saw Coll and Dot climbing the steps at the far end.

When they disappeared into the trees at the top, Violet left her hiding place and darted to the set of stairs on the opposite side. She had become familiar with the gardens on her many trips from the ruins, and she knew that the various levels and stone stairs all led to the same central terrace below the house. She would be able to find them again without staying on their path.

The leafless trees and bushes of the winter landscape unfortunately offered less concealment for her so that she could not get close, but Violet was able to track them by Dot's giggle. How could Coll stand to listen to that nerve-shredding noise? Violet saw the flash of a blue dress through the tangle of the rose arbor and realized that she was closer to them than she had thought.

Violet eased along the arbor and slipped around a tree. They were only a few feet from her, separated by a high hedge. Now she could hear them, but see nothing but the tops of their heads. Violet stepped up onto a rock, curling her hand around a low branch of the tree for balance. What she saw gave her little joy. Dot was standing only inches from Coll, gazing up at him with an expression of wonder.

“How clever you are,” she breathed. “I would never have thought of that.” Dot edged closer, laying her hand on his arm.

“Aye, well . . .” Coll took a step back. “I'm sure it would have come to you in a bit.”

“Nae, I dinna think so.” Dot fluttered her eyelashes. “I'm just a silly girl.”

“Well, um, I wouldn't say that.” Coll cleared his throat.

Violet was certain that she would.

“I'm so glad I can turn to you for help.” Dot stretched up on her tiptoes and murmured something.

Violet leaned forward, straining to hear. And suddenly she was overbalanced and falling. Violet flailed her arms, desperately grabbing at the branch above her. She crashed into the hedge.

“Violet!”

She lifted her head and saw Coll and Dot staring at her,
wide-eyed. Coll started forward. Violet fought her way out of the hedge before he could reach her.

“What happened? Are you all right?” Coll took Violet's arm, his eyes running all over her. He picked a twig from her hair. “What were you doing?”

Violet jerked her arm away and stepped back, her face flooding with red. “I—um—”

“Spying on us!” Dot snapped. “That's what she was doing.”

“Nonsense.” Violet sent the other woman a withering glance. “I was—I was looking at a bird.”

“A bird!” Coll gaped.

“Yes.” Violet set her jaw. “In the tree. I saw a most unusual bird in the tree, and I was trying to get a better look at it. I got up on that stone, and, ah, somehow tipped over.”

Dot snorted.

Violet whirled on her. “What exactly are you doing here at Duncally, Miss Cromartie?”

Dot fisted her hands on her hips. “Talking to Coll—until you barged in.”

“I feel sure Coll has more important things to do. Perhaps you should let him get back to work.”

“Violet, there's no reason to . . .” Coll reached out to her, and Violet stopped him with a blazing look.

Dot stalked forward. “You dinna rule me. Or Coll. It's none of your business who he talks to.”

Violet went still. Suddenly she could feel tears burning at her eyes. “No.” Her voice was clipped. “You're right. Coll is none of my business.” She whirled and started toward the house.

Behind her Dot began to babble and Coll answered her, short and sharp. His footsteps rang on the stone path. “Violet! Stop.”

She whipped around to face him. Coll stopped a few feet from her, his face taut. Behind him, Dot was flouncing away, which gave Violet grim satisfaction.

“What the devil is the matter with you?”

“Nothing! Why should anything be the matter?” Violet strove for a cool tone, but was maddeningly aware that she was missing it. “If you want to spend your afternoon flirting in the garden with Miss Cromartie, it's none of my concern.”

His jaw dropped. “Flirting! I wasna
flirting
.”

“Well, she certainly was, and I didn't see you protesting. Apparently dallying with
her
doesn't offend your fine moral principles.”

“Violet Thornhill!” His eyes narrowed. “You're jealous.”

“Hah! Of that fluff-brained, little—” She broke off. “Don't be ridiculous.”

“You
are
jealous.” He let out a bark of laughter that was devoid of humor. “That's rich. You don't want me, but you don't want anyone else to have me either. Is that it?”

“Not want—” Violet's throat closed with tears. She would not, absolutely would not, reveal just how very much she wanted him. “That's absurd. Indeed, I wish you to be very happy with Miss Cromartie. I know how important it is to you to have a wife.”

She turned and marched off. This time Coll did not follow her.

The following afternoon Violet was engrossed in digging at the ruins when the sound of horses made her glance up. A carriage rolled up the road toward her and stopped, and Isobel
Kensington climbed out of it. The advent of another visitor seemed to be Angus McKay's impetus to leave, for he popped up from his seat on a nearby rock and bid Violet good-bye.

“I hope I did not chase Auld Angus away,” Isobel said as she reached the ruins.

“I would not worry.” Violet smiled wryly. “I think the company of two women is more than Mr. McKay can bear. I'm glad to see you.”

Violet's feelings at seeing Isobel were more mixed than she let on. She liked Isobel and had enjoyed talking to her the other time Isobel had visited. But she was uncertain how Isobel felt about Violet in return. She was close to Coll. Had he told Isobel how angry he was at Violet, how stubborn and willful he found her? The thought sent a sharp stab of pain through her.

“I have been wondering about your progress,” Isobel said, her smile holding neither disapproval nor curiosity. Violet began to relax. “Aunt Elizabeth wanted to come with me, but I fear the cold was too much for her today. I promised I would present her with a full and faithful report.”

Violet cheerfully showed Isobel the walls they had uncovered. “We have made a lot of progress. You can see how far we've dug down here. I am more and more certain that this was a house.”

“Really? It seems so small.”

“I suspect the occupants were smaller, too. And their primary concern would have been shelter from the elements rather than comfort. But see these two layers of rock that jut out from the wall?” Violet pointed to the flat stones.