For Love or Loyalty: The MacGregor Legacy | Book 1 (18 page)

“I shall take a mug of ale,” Logan said.

“I want a glass of water. I am too parched for aught else,”
Malcolm said.

The woman nodded and disappeared.

“I thought I would go by Mallard Plantation and see how Lauren is getting along.” Malcolm folded his hands.

“Did ye not say that the overseer would not allow ye to see her? Ye wanna get her in trouble?” Logan shook his head in disbelief. “Besides, ye might want to wait ’til ye look more like yerself.”

“True.” Malcolm sat back with a sigh of discontent. Being around Lauren every day for several weeks and now being apart made him realize how much more he had grown to care for her. He missed her spiritual inspiration when he felt defeated. Memories clung to him, their conversations kept playing through his mind, and whenever he needed to make a decision, he longed to confide in her. Worst of all, her lovely image compared to no other, the way she looked up at him and felt in his arms the night he held her through the storm.

“Malcolm?” Logan peered at him and waved a hand in front of his face. “Did ye hear me?”

“What?”

“If ye’re willing to fight the Norwegian, ye’ll get triple the price if ye win,” Logan said.

“Why?” Malcolm watched Logan’s expression with suspicion. “There has to be a reason I get more for fightin’ him.”

“From what I have heard, he has not lost a fight in over a year, and he is huge.”

“Are ye tryin’ to get me killed?” Malcolm slammed a fist on the table, drawing attention from nearby patrons.

“Just listen.” Logan lifted both palms. “Everyone has a weakness. All ye’ve got to do is watch ’im in a few fights an’ figure out what it is.”

“Ye make it sound so simple, but for what I have done to Lauren, I suppose I deserve the punishment.”

The sun burst through the haze of the morning clouds at dawn two days later. Lauren breathed a sigh of momentary contentment. If it was already so hot this early, then the afternoon would be stifling. Her new hat would be a blessing.

Lauren’s nose and cheeks pulled tight, and her skin felt hot. If she had a looking glass, she knew she would see a burned face. It would be easier to endure if she had gotten a decent night’s sleep. Instead, she spent the night tossing on a straw mattress thin enough to fall through, or so she feared.

She yawned, covering her mouth as she walked in line with the other servants up the aisle between the fields. A man she had never seen before strode from the opposite direction. When he reached Lauren and the other servants, he stopped and crossed his arms. “I am looking for Lauren Campbell.” His voice boomed over them.

Everyone paused, and Lauren cringed as the other servants turned to look at her. They didn’t need to say anything as their expressions gave her away. Taking a deep breath for courage, she stepped forward.

“I am Lauren Campbell.”

Without an explanation, he crooked his thick finger and turned to walk away. Not knowing what else to do, Lauren followed him. He looked to be in his forties. His shoulders were wide, but his height wasn’t quite as tall as Malcolm.

Her thoughts stalled. Since when had she started comparing every man she met to Malcolm MacGregor? She shook her head, but the action didn’t clear her mind of his image. Malcolm was always there, pressing on her memories, until she longed to see him again—to be in his protective presence. She never thought it could be possible, but she missed him.

They left the fields and headed toward the main house. Lauren tensed. She hadn’t been here long enough to cause any trouble. What could she have done to be called to the main house? They climbed the hill and passed the barn and stables.

He took her through a side door leading into a hallway. It was dark, but not scary, only intimidating as she realized how many decisions made in this house concerned so many lives. In the next few minutes, her fate would be revealed.

Lauren assumed that she would go to the same study where she had met Mr. Fairbanks. Instead, the man led her to a room across from the study. The door was ajar and creaked as he opened it.

“Mr. Mallard, I brought ’er just like ye asked,” he said.

Lauren stepped into a library filled with shelves of books from floor to ceiling on each side except for the fireplace and two long windows. Although it was smaller than the library at home in Kilchurn Manor, she would venture to guess they had squeezed more books in here.

“Thanks.” Lauren whirled to see the young man she met on the horse. “You may go.” He waved away the man who brought her.

“Welcome, Miss Campbell.” He gestured to the chair across from him. “Please, have a seat.”

Lauren walked to the chair and sank onto the cushion as bid. If her weary bones could respond, they would be sighing in contentment right now. Determined not to get too comfortable, Lauren kept a straight spine and waited, hoping her behavior was appropriate.

“We are moving you to the main house.” Rob sat adjacent to her and crossed his ankle over his knee. He wore the same black boots as before. Relaxing his back against his chair, he studied her. “Does that suit you?”

“Indeed, it does,” she said. “As ye can tell, I do not do well in the sun.” She pointed to her red face.

“I am sorry for that.” He grimaced in genuine concern. “I hope ’tisn’t too painful?”

“I shall manage.” Lauren glanced down at the floor as sudden embarrassment heated her face. She wondered if her burns were worse than she originally thought.

“I told my mother about your education and convinced her you belong here in the main house.” He shook his head in disbelief. “She is not completely convinced, so she may come by later and test you.”

“What sort of test?” Alarm passed through Lauren. What if she couldn’t remember a few facts from her previous studies? What would happen if she failed?

“She plans to converse with you in French.” He grinned, his brown eyes glinting. “To assure herself that you know enough proper French to help me with my speech, reading, and writing in the language.”

“Am I to be your governess?” Lauren couldn’t hide her surprise and confusion.

“Not exactly.” He chuckled. “Someone I can practice and converse with. I have also arranged for you to help in the kitchen. You may be required for other duties as needed, such as assisting Mr. Fairbanks keep the books.”

“I see.” Lauren looked down at her lap. God had answered her prayers. He had delivered her from the fields. She wanted to sing His praises but forced herself to sit still.

“I am sorry that I could not get a better chamber for you, but my mother agreed to let you have the attic chamber. It can be very hot in the summer but is the warmest room in the house during winter.”

“I am verra grateful,” Lauren said, trying not to fidget. “Will I need a uniform like the others?”

“Yes, although you would not be required to wear a uniform when we are practicing French. In fact, I might feel better if you were not in uniform during those days.” He scratched his shaved chin in thought.

“I have naught else, sir.” Lauren shrugged. “I am sorry.”

“Nonsense.” He waved her concern away. “I shall take care of everything. Just leave it to me.” He stood. “I will have one of the maids show you to your chamber.”

A few days later, Malcolm managed to rent a proper house for his mother and bought a horse for travel. The swelling in his lip wasn’t quite as severe, but a slight scab remained. The bruise on his cheek was still prominent, but there was little he could do about it. Today, his mother wanted to go to church, and he intended to escort her. Since he had no carriage or wagon, they would walk the short distance. If there was a chance to see Lauren again, it would be at church.

He waited on the front porch while his mother stepped out of the small one-story house. A number of larger homes with varied colors, including brick, surrounded it. Perhaps God had broken the curse that he often worried plagued their family. He made a decent salary, more than what he could ever hope to attain in Scotland. His rent was much less and in a convenient location within walking distance to church and the market. Best of all, he was now reunited with his mother. For the first time in a long time, he looked forward to worshiping in church.

“I am sorry I have not been able to purchase us a proper carriage yet,” Malcolm said once she reached his side.

“Nonsense, lad. Ye’ve done well in the short time we have been here.” She waved his concern away and awarded him with a doting smile. “Yer da would have been verra proud.”

“I am unsure ’bout that.” Malcolm held out his elbow and offered his arm. Since he didn’t have a sidesaddle, he knew better than to push the idea of her riding astride on the Sabbath. “Especially after what happened to ye an’ Graham. As soon as I can, I hope to find a trustworthy person to write a letter for me to post to Thomas.”

“Aye, an’ we need to send out inquiries for Carleen as well. I long for my family to be reunited.” His mother looked away as he guided her west down Society Street. “I hope her situation is much better than mine has been.”

“Do not worry, Mither.” Malcolm tried to ignore the pinch in his heart and sighed. Independent Church was only a half mile from their house, but he wanted to arrive early enough to find a decent seat and to determine how he might approach Lauren if she was there without getting her in trouble with the Mallard family or Mr. Fairbanks.

When they reached the street corner, Malcolm turned left onto Meeting Street and marveled at the sight of all the carriages, wagons, and individuals heading in the same direction. Horses clopped along the pebbled road at a slow pace. Families varied in station, wealth, and sizes. It never occurred to him that a church might be overcrowded, but today he could imagine it. Even if Lauren was here among all these people, how would he find her?

They stepped under the branches of a tree with Spanish moss hanging over the road. The shade gave him a better view of the church without the need to squint from the bright sun. It was a circular church made of dark red brick. The arched windows indicated various levels, and the front entrance was through an archway. The thick wooden door was painted a maroon color, and the hinges looked to be of black iron. No steeple or church bells were evident.

A brown carriage rolled by with three wagons following close behind. Several other prominent citizens had already passed in expensive carriages, some with inscriptions, but most were without.

“Malcolm, there is the Mallard family.” His mother pointed at the brown carriage now pulling to a stop on the side of the road ahead of them. “The wagons are carrying their servants.”

“Which one would have Lauren?” he asked, keeping his eyes trained on the last wagon from which people were now climbing out.

“The one right behind the carriage would be the house servants. The rest are full of the field servants.”

“What about the slaves?” Malcolm glanced down at her, so thankful color had begun to return to her cheeks. “Are they not allowed to worship God?”

“Aye, but they have their own minister on the plantation, and they meet in the barn on Sunday mornings.” She squeezed his arm. “Mr. Fairbanks stays behind to ensure they behave an’ none o’ them run off.”

“I see.” Malcolm turned his attention back to the wagons. At least, he wouldn’t have to deal with the watchful eye of Mr. Fairbanks. It increased his chances of speaking to Lauren.

He scanned the servants as they walked toward the building. Granted, their backs were facing him, but he would recognize Lauren’s gait. For hours, he had observed her on
The Sea Lady
, her posture, profile, and expressions. He felt quite confident that he could pick her out of a crowd. Yet he saw no sign of her. Disappointment plummeted in his chest.

They filed behind others as they drew closer. Some individuals were in groups conversing around the churchyard. A lass stepped out of line and leaned against the brick wall as she bent to adjust her shoe. Malcolm recognized the blonde pieces of hair that framed her oval face beneath her hat.

“ ’Tis her, Mither.” Malcolm patted her arm. “She appears well.”

“Go to her, lad.” His mother nudged him forward. “Ye only have a few minutes afore she goes inside with the others.”