The Bride Says No (21 page)

“It would be so easy to believe you. Indeed, I think you believe yourself.”

Her brows shot together. “How can you doubt me? Ruary, I don’t want to live without you.”

He shook his head. “And do you think I am the sort of man who believes it is all right to threaten people to have my way? Especially family?”

“I just want us to be together.”

“Tara, there is no
us
.” The truth of those words rang through him. “Years ago, we were both too young and too naive.”

“I’ve apologized. I didn’t realize what I was tossing aside—”

“Yes, you did, Tara. You were the wise one. If we had run off the way I urged you to, then life would not be good for us. I would have given up everything I worked for and wouldn’t be able to support a dog, let alone a wife and bairns.”

“You would be a wonderful husband.”

“Aye, you are right—but not a wonderful one for you. The ‘what ifs’ would have destroyed what we felt for each other. And if I agreed to this scheme of yours, then maybe not now, but soon, what you’d done to your sister would play on you. I’ve watched you and Lady Aileen for many years. You are close. And take it from a man who doesn’t have family—blood is important.”

Tara’s lips turned mutinous, but she did not challenge his words. She turned from him, staring off into the distance at what only she could see. He waited, caring enough about her to give her time.

She swung her gaze back to him. “What was yesterday?”

“The kissing? Wishful thinking.”

Slowly, she lowered her head. For a moment, he thought she wept, but when she faced him, she was dry-eyed, and resigned. “What do I do now?”

“Go back to Annefield and learn to be a good wife to Mr. Stephens. You’ve put the man through his paces, Tara. You owe him that.”

“I don’t think he likes me overmuch.”

“You have been a trial.”

“I’m not talking about recently.” She shifted her weight. “He has never been particularly devoted to me. He certainly hasn’t kissed me in the manner he was holding Aileen.”

“Then he is a fool.”

She smiled as if agreeing with him. She was not a woman men said no to very often. He doubted if she’d ever heard the word until this last twenty-four-hour period. That would be hard on anyone.

“Do you truly love Jane Sawyer?” she asked.

“Yes,” he answered, realizing another truth. “I do. I didn’t at first. I still missed you, but as time passed, I’ve come to care for her very much.”

A tear escaped the corner of Tara’s eye. She swiped at it with a gloved hand, looking away as if embarrassed, then said, “Well, then, you’d best be going.”

“What of you? Can I escort you back to Annefield? Campbell expects me to go there with you, and he has demonstrated a shrewd ability to know everything that happens in the valley.”

“I suppose we must then.” She walked over to her horse. “I don’t like him. He has no manners.”

“Breccan doesn’t care what you think.”

“He cares about having a better stable than Annefield’s. Do you think it loyal that you help him?”

“I go where a man is willing to pay for my talent, Tara, nothing more, nothing less. Of course, it is always easier to deal with horses than it is men like Breccan and your father.”

She nodded, and Ruary moved to help her mount. This was how it had begun for them. He’d been the stable lad who had held her horse. For a second, the poignancy of the moment gripped them both. She looked down at him, and he felt transported to that innocent time long ago when he’d first begun to dream of a life beyond his station.

She broke the moment first. “Be good to Jane,” she whispered.

“I will. You be kind to Mr. Stephens. He’ll have his hands full with you.”

Tara laughed, the seriousness of the moment broken. “We shall see.”

Ruary mounted, and they directed their horses out of the haven of the trees and back onto the road just as a rider came cantering from the direct of Laird Breccan’s estate. The rider pulled up at the sight of them.

“Jane,” Ruary said in recognition and also in a moment of surprised guilt.

Her horse pranced a step as she took in the sight of Ruary and Tara together. She’d seen them emerge from the trees.

Indignation rose to her cheeks in two bright red spots, while the rest of her face turned pale. “Laird Breccan said I would find the two of you on this road.”

“We are going to Annefield—,” Ruary started to explain, but she cut through his words.

“Stop it.
Don’t say another word
. I’m done with it. You want her? Then have her. No more sneaking around and thinking folks don’t see. Well, I have pride, and I’ll
not
marry a man who is
unfaithful
.” She threw the words at him before putting heels to horse and galloping off.

For a second, Ruary sat, stunned, then he charged after her.

R
uary chased Jane all the way to her father’s smithy on the outskirts of Aberfeldy, but she would not see him. She went inside her house and refused to come out.

Ruary pounded on the door. Finally her father came to him, iron tongs in his hands, and said, “You’d best leave, Jamerson. She’s done with you. Go back to your lover.”

He spoke as if Ruary had been a stranger.

Not only that, but Ruary’s shouting and beating on the door had gathered a crowd of villagers. He could tell by their expressions they had heard about his meetings with Tara.

Too late he remembered there were no secrets in the valley.

They had formed opinions and found him guilty. He’d lived amongst these people for a good twelve years of his life. They had treated him well. They had given him opportunities he would not have found anywhere else.

But they now stared at him coldly.

Their loyalties were to the smith and his daughter.

Ruary left the doorstep, his heart heavy.

T
here is talk in town about your sister,” Sabrina said, entering the morning room, where Aileen was reading a book. Or rather, she was
attempting
to read it. She’d been studying the same book for the two days she had been at her cousin’s and had not made any progress. She had too much on her mind.

Her uncle, Richard Davidson, was the local magistrate. His wife had just passed the year before. Her death had been hard on him and Sabrina. After the divorce, he’d not been accepting of Aileen’s friendship with his daughter. However, she was kin, and he would never completely turn her away.

Besides his daughter, Richard had two sons, both serving in the military. Consequently, he relied on Sabrina as a hostess and housekeeper, since his portion was vastly inferior to his brother’s, the earl of Tay.

Aileen had often suggested to the earl that he should increase his brother’s circumstances and offer him a living from the estate. However, the earl was not inclined to be generous. Not if he needed the money for his gambling.

“Talk of Tara?” Aileen repeated, quickly forgetting the book.

“I wasn’t certain whether to say something to you,” Sabrina said. She sat on the edge of the chair opposite Aileen. She had just returned from a walk into the village and still wore her wide-brimmed straw bonnet at a rakish angle.

But right now, her manner was very serious.

“Say something about what?” Aileen’s first thought was that Tara had denounced her. It was what she deserved. She should not have kissed Mr. Stephens, not in that manner.

“They say she has been meeting the horse master. The one that works at Annefield.”

“Oh.” Aileen couldn’t think of another word that was safe to say. Tara had been caught.

Sabrina lowered her voice as if sharing a secret. “You know he and Jane Sawyer were having the banns read, but now she’ll have nothing to do with him. I saw Mr. Jamerson in the village. He was standing on the bridge. One can see Sawyer’s smithy from there, and they say Mr. Jamerson has been there day and night, just staring.” Sabrina focused her gaze, mimicking Mr. Jamerson’s expression. “They say he hasn’t moved.”

“What does he want?”

“I suppose to see Miss Sawyer, but Helen Dinwiddie told me she will have nothing to do with him. Everyone is worried about her. She is not eating. She refuses to come out of her room. Her heart is broken—and they hold Tara to blame.”

Aileen sat very still, trying to comprehend this turn of events.

“Jane Sawyer must be acting a bit like you,” Sabrina observed.

That comment cut the confusion in Aileen’s mind. “What do you mean?” she challenged, even as a guilty flush warmed her cheeks.

“I don’t pry,” Sabrina said, “but you are not yourself. Something happened to bring you to our door in the wee hours of the morning. I wouldn’t push you to discuss it, but with the gossip in town, well, perhaps you need a cousin to confide in?”

Aileen started to refute any hint that something was wrong, but then realized protests were fruitless. The evidence was too damning. She had not stirred from her uncle’s. Her only concern at Annefield was for Folly’s care and keeping. Other than that, she’d not mentioned her home.

Furthermore, she could use a confidante, and she trusted Sabrina. Her cousin had been a staunch ally throughout the Crim Con trial and divorce. She’d even traveled to London to be with Aileen, something the earl hadn’t been willing to do. He’d been absent from London during that time, and Tara had been too young to have been of much help. Nor would it have served her well if she had sided with Aileen.

But Sabrina had come without a care of the social costs or her own father’s disapproval.

“My mind is a knotted maze from trying to sort everything out,” Aileen confessed. “And I don’t know why. It should be so easy.”

“What should be so easy?”

“My feelings for Blake Stephens.”

“Wait,” Sabrina said, tilting her head in confusion. “Mr. Stephens is betrothed to Tara.”

“And they should have married in London, but she bolted. She jilted him.”

“But he is here now.” Sabrina drew her brows together. She adored a mystery. Indeed, she enjoyed her role as the magistrate’s daughter because it gave her access to all of what she called the “very best details.”

“Aye, he is here,” Aileen agreed, “and I believe I’ve fallen in love with him.” She put a hand up to her mouth, shocked by her admission. She looked to her cousin. “I couldn’t be in love with him. I didn’t mean what I said. We have only just met.”

“And,” Sabrina said, equally surprised, “he is to marry your sister.”

“That is why I had to leave. I couldn’t stay in the same house with him. He’s dangerous. Like a tiger.”

“A tiger?”

Aileen shook her head. “It is how I imagine him. He can behave like one of those beasts. There is power around him and he never seems ruffled by events, although he can be annoyed.” Oh, yes, she had seen that side of him many times.

“Is there merit to the gossip in the village?” Sabrina asked.

“About Tara and Mr. Jamerson? I’m afraid it is true.”

Sabrina brought her hand down onto the chair seat as if afraid she would fall out of it in amazement. “Tara? With the help?”

Aileen nodded.

“He is a handsome man, I’ll grant you that,” Sabrina said. “But so is Mr. Stephens.”

“The horse master is an uncommonly handsome man, but I actually prefer Mr. Stephens’s looks over Jamerson’s.”

“Yes, I imagine you would,” Sabrina said with a small touch of irony.

The insanity of her admission pierced Aileen’s sense of right and wrong. She let out a horrified groan. “What have I done? Why can’t I just be normal? Why couldn’t I have married a man who wasn’t a monster? Or had enough sense to not search for love from Peter who was so weak?”

“Mr. Stephens is not weak,” Sabrina pointed out. “He’s a tiger.”

“You will never let me live that down, will you?” Aileen said to her cousin.

“I’m afraid I can’t. That description was too good to ever forget,” Sabrina assured her with just the merest hint of regret.

“I didn’t mean to be attracted to Mr. Stephens. He belongs to Tara. They are going to marry.”

“Which sister is
he
attracted to?” Sabrina asked.

“His preferences don’t matter,” Aileen countered. “Not once he spoke for Tara.” She came to her feet and paced a few steps, thinking, before saying to her cousin, “In truth, Sabrina, I don’t know if he cares for me at all. It is possible he just wished to teach Tara a lesson.”

“He knows about Jamerson?”

“Yes, he found out. He was upset, and I was close at hand. Then Tara caught Mr. Stephens and me kissing, and I knew I had to leave.”

Sabrina sat back in her chair with a sound of revelation. “And here I assumed you were living a quiet life.”

“This is not a joking matter,” Aileen warned. “And discussing this with you, I realize I may have made too much of the situation. He could have been using me to strike back at Tara.”

“Which I do not believe speaks well for him,” Sabrina returned stoutly.

“Perhaps not, but it means that I have allowed feelings I should not have to influence my best judgment.”

“Aileen, think on it, love is a strong word. Perhaps you just have a high regard for him. Or maybe, what with Tara and this disturbing liaison with Mr. Jamerson, you might empathize with Mr. Stephens and, well, be your caring self. You might not like him at all. Not truly.”

“And imagined I’m in love?”

“You have known Mr. Stephens—what? A week? One can’t fall in love that quickly.”

Sabrina was right. “Geoff courted me a year before I had feelings for him. And I’d known Peter most of my life.”

Sabrina held up a hand as if to stave her off. “Please do not compare Mr. Stephens to Geoff and Peter. He’d be better served if you compared him to my dog Rolf than those men.

Hearing his name, there was the click of nails on the wood floor as Rolf jumped up from his cushion in the corner and came running. He was a small pup that weighed less than a stone.

He leaped into Sabrina’s lap. Sabrina laughed and kissed Rolf’s front paws. Her cousin had rescued the pup from some boys who’d been teasing it.

“Thank you,” Aileen said.

“For what?” Sabrina asked in surprise, looking up from her pet.