Highland Salvation

by Lori Ann Bailey

  “Hell,” he said and left the room.

  She pulled the shift from her body, tossed it in the direction of the nearest table, and climbed back under the covers. It was not worth fumbling through the dark to find another.

  When he returned, he once again carried his sword, placing it reverently on the floor by his side of the bed. It must be a habit. What threat did he fear which would cause him to sleep with a weapon like that?

  His arms around her, he drew her into the space between the crook of his arm and his shoulder. He was rigid, taut with either anger or disappointment.

  “We can find some men to inspect the roofs tomorrow.”

  “Aye.” But he sighed again. After a moment he continued, “I never wanted this place.”

  “Well, we are here. We can make it our place.”

  He seemed to relax a little. As she snuggled up against him, the bone-deep weariness of the day and her activities caught up with her. She felt her eyes shutting as she thought about the stress her husband was under.

  Will he trust me as a partner and let me help get the house in order?

  …

  As the sun peeked in through the drawn curtains, Finlay woke. Blair still slumbered with his arm cradled around her side. He reluctantly withdrew his hold from his wife’s soft form. Sliding to the side, he made as little movement as possible. She needed her sleep after the work she’d put in yesterday and for the day they had ahead.

  Dressing, he snuck from the room and plodded down the steps to the breakfast room. Robbie and Tristan were already there, taking advantage of the meager portions of eggs, cheese, and bread that had been left out on the sideboard.

  “Did ye sleep soundly?” He grabbed a plate, only taking enough to satisfy his hunger. It was important to ensure the other guests and his wife would have food when they broke their fasts. Thankfully, he’d brought plenty of coin from Scotland with him. He only hoped it would be enough to see them through until he could decipher what had gone so terribly wrong here.

  “Aye,” Tristan said. “The rain always lulls me into a deep sleep.”

  Robbie only nodded, staring out the window as they waited for Finlay to take a seat first.

  “Were ye able to find the priest?” he asked as he slid into the chair at the head of the table, the one that was supposed to belong to an earl, not his bastard son.

  “The men at the tavern said Father Thomas would be here Saturday eve. He comes in for mass on Sunday mornings.” Tristan scooped a spoonful of eggs and plopped them on his plate.

  “He keeps up yer chapel and invites those from the village to come on Sundays.”

  “Good. Hopefully one part of the estate is not in ruins, then.”

  Tomorrow, he would have to take a good look around the property and see what needed to be done and who he needed to bring in. Today was about getting some staff for the house and answers from Mr. Gerrick.

  “And what did they say of the war?” He shoveled a bite of eggs into his mouth.

  “Thus far, it appears the north has been unaffected. Most of the fighting is south.”

  “I pray it stays that way.”

  “Is the king still ensconced at Oxford?” He looked at Tristan.

  “Aye. Do ye plan on going to see him?” Robbie’s gaze pinned him, and Finlay realized for the first time that the lad’s accent had grown stronger. He didn’t sound as English as he had when he’d first arrived at Kentillie all those months ago.

  “I dinnae ken yet. It depends on whether my father and brothers are willing to deliver the news to him for me. They will be here tomorrow to discuss it.”

  Talk of war and politics halted as Blair strolled into the room wearing one of the gowns from their journey down. He’d promised to get her what she needed, and so far, he’d failed miserably, only managing to procure the one she’d soiled yesterday putting to right his house.

  He’d lain awake last night thinking about the leaking nursery. He had planned for the babe to stay in that room. How could he expect anyone, let alone a child, to live in such conditions? He’d been furious after seeing his wife sprawled out on the floor covered in rainwater. What if she had been hurt?

  “Good morning,” Tristan said as she drifted into the room.

  “Aye, ’tis that. Were the rooms comfortable?”

  “Aye,” Robbie and Tristan chimed in at the same time.

  “I’m glad to hear. We found a leak last night. Do either of ye ken how to repair them?” Finlay had not even thought to ask the men for help.

  “Nae, but Brodie might,” Tristan said.

  After filling a plate, Blair threaded her way through the two men who still stood beside the table and eased into the chair beside him. Andrew walked into the room, a tray with a pitcher in hand.

  “Would ye like some tea, my lady?”

  “I would like some coffee, if ye have any.”

  Tristan took the seat next to Blair and Robbie the one on his left side.

  “No, my lady, I’m afraid we do not have coffee.” He reddened.

  “’Tis all right then, I’ll take tea.”

  The butler poured her a cup then did the same for the others as they sat. He then inspected the sidebar and left the room.

  Malcolm, Brodie, and Seamus strolled into the room, and the greetings began all over again.

  Once they were seated, Blair spoke up, addressing the Cameron men. “I dinnae ken what yer plans are, but if ye will be about and have nothing else to do, we could use a little bit of help.”

  “We are just waiting on the priest to get here.”

  Why had they come all the way from Scotland to see the priest who tended the chapel at his home? His suspicions were growing by the minute. He was afraid when he pried their answer from them, he wasn’t going to like it.

  “’Tis settled then. If ye gentlemen would accompany me this afternoon, we will take a tour of the grounds and see if there are tasks ye can help with.”

  Their conversation faded as Finlay groaned internally. He felt it as a physical punch to the gut that because of his neglect, others would have to stand in for him on something he wished he could do with Blair. He would be meeting with his estate manager and couldn’t even give his wife a tour of the home he was offering her. Hell, he’d not been able to give her a chance to see his cottage back on Cameron lands, either.

  After a lengthy discussion on how Highlanders were better workers than Sassenachs, he determined to salvage part of the day with his wife and said, “Whenever ye wish to head into the village, I am ready.”

  She smiled at him and rose then pushed in her chair. “I can be ready shortly. Shall I meet ye in the foyer?”

  “Aye. I’ll be waiting for ye.”

  She hurried from the room, and he couldn’t help but smile at her eagerness. At least this morning, he would be the one with her undivided attention.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Finlay sat across from his estate manager who talked down to him like the professors and headmaster at Oxford had. Worse, Everly Gerrick smelled of mint like his long-ago tutor. Mr. Gerrick reminded him of all the people who had tried to make him believe that because of his brogue and upbringing, he was beneath them.

  Why had he hired this man? Surely his younger brother, who had also hired the man, had planned this. But he knew why—the advice had really come from Prudence, and she’d always been kind to him. Perhaps she didn’t know the man as well as she thought.

  “Did ye even try to find staff?”

  The man sat as if a rod extended from his ass up to the top of his arrogant, bulbous head. It seemed like an attempt to make the estate manager taller so he could look down on Finlay. It didn’t work—he felt no threat, just willful indignation.

  “Yes. All the men have gone off to fight for the king or Parliament. There was no one left.”

  “I’ve heard our area has no’ been as hard hit by the war.”

  “Ye have been away and have heard wrong.” Mr. Gerrick pinned him with a blank s
tare, but there appeared to be some hint of malice beneath the man’s cold regard.

  “How is it that within a couple of hours in the village this morning, my wife was able to find someone to tend the gardens, a foreman to oversee repairs, and several maids?” Not to mention that she’d spent half their morning in with a seamstress who had promised to bring Blair some gowns tomorrow and continue fitting her for whatever else it was women needed.

  The man actually appeared flustered after being caught in his lie. Face reddening, Mr. Gerrick started to stutter his words. “They—they are not of good quality. I thought you would only want the—the best for this precious estate your father has given you. I thought you wanted it run properly.” Before the diatribe was done, the arse’s tone turned condescending.

  “Aye, I do, but I don’t see ye running it at all.”

  Mr. Gerrick straightened his shoulders but stayed silent.

  “Ye brought the books?”

  “Yes, I did.” A sly smile passed the man’s lips. He unfolded the satchel at his waist, pulled it into his lap, and drew out two thick leather volumes. Standing, looking down at him, the man placed them squarely on the desk in front of him.

  Without opening the books and attempting to make sense out of them in front of this arse, Finlay asked, “How is it that I am spending so much when I’m not paying for anything? I have no’ even been here, and creditors are knocking on the doors looking for coin owed them.”

  “It’s all there.” The stiff Sassenach pointed in challenge, without taking his place back in the chair, obviously attempting to intimidate. “Take a look, and you will find I am handling things properly.”

  “I suspect ye are correct, but now that I will be spending more time in residence, I should ken what’s going on.” He expected there were more errors in the books than he would be able to find, but he couldn’t confront the man based on a gut feeling and the man’s inaction alone.

  The man only stared at him.

  “How fares Caldwell’s estate?”

  Everly Gerrick smiled, appearing as if he had made a fortune for his younger brother and Prudence, possibly ensuring the stability of his position with them. What if the man weren’t at fault? Could it be Finlay’s lack of attention that caused the problems at Catriona House?

  “Funds are being allocated exactly as they should be, and everything is running smoothly.”

  Finlay couldn’t help but turn the words over in his mind as the hint of some double meaning eluded him. It was as if the man were jumbling his thoughts, just like the markings on a page misaligned themselves.

  He leaned back, running his hands through his hair as he prepared to open the books and dive into the puzzle.

  “My mother has been called to London, and I must accompany her. The roads aren’t safe these days.” Mr. Gerrick appeared truly worried about the welfare of his mother.

  “When will ye be back?”

  “I plan to return within the month.”

  That gave Finlay time, because he had to ensure the king was alerted to the danger headed his way before he could stop to make sense of what had transpired here. “When ye do, we should sit down and plan out how we need to proceed going forward.”

  “I will send a message when I return.”

  “Please do.” Finlay considered relieving the man of his post immediately but thought it prudent to examine the books before making the decision. After all, Prudence, who had never looked at him with disdain but kindness, wouldn’t have steered him wrong. He would question his brother’s motives, but Prudence had always been gracious to him.

  “Good day, sir.”

  With that, Everly Gerrick pivoted and strode toward the door as if he couldn’t move fast enough without running.

  Settling back into his seat, Finlay picked up the first leather-bound book. He thumbed through the volume. As expected, numbers and letters swam and swirled, moving around the page, reversing themselves and causing his head to ache.

  …

  Blair believed the morning had been a complete success, and now as she toiled around the house making lists of what needed to be done. Jenny followed with bright, eager eyes.

  “So when do they all start, my lady?”

  “Tomorrow. Although the new gardener said he may bring a couple more able-bodied men for me to interview to work the stables as well. ’Twill be nice if we donnae have to rely on yer little ones.”

  “They are hard workers.”

  “I ken, Jenny, but they should also have the opportunity to be children. We will find tasks for them. Believe me, there are plenty. Now, before we tour the west side, let’s stop by the kitchens. I’d like to meet the cook and find out what he plans to prepare. ’Tis almost time for the midday meal, and we need to pass by, anyway.”

  After entering the kitchen, which was twice the size of the one at her father’s castle, she stopped in place. It was empty, though the smell of warm bread and meat carried through the room. “Where’s the cook?”

  “I don’t know, but I’ll find out for you.” Jenny darted out to look for the butler.

  While the housekeeper was gone, Blair took the opportunity to stroll around the large room and take it all in. Although the pantry was almost bare, at least the cook had done a good job of keeping the room clean, and unlike the rest of the house, it appeared well cared for. With renewed hope the man would be up to the task of running the kitchen of a large estate, she made her way into the dining room.

  The Cameron men were already present, and the food had been set up on a sideboard similar to how it had been for breakfast this morning. As she entered, they stood.

  “Am I late?” Time had flown by after a busy morning in the village and a tour of the east wing.

  “Nae, we havenae been too long.”

  She strolled over to inspect the food and filled a plate with sliced warm beef, a sauce for the top, some summer squash, bread, and fresh berries. The cook had done a nice job.

  Sitting, she got to business straight away. “Brodie, I hear ye are good with roofs. Do ye mind checking the estate’s roofs to see where it needs repairs? There was a leak in the nursery last night.”

  “Aye. Finlay mentioned it. I’ll be happy to take a look.”

  “Thank ye. I’m sure Finlay will be pleased. He’s in with the estate manager now trying to come up with a plan for taking charge of this place.”

  “I can check the stables to see what needs to be done there,” Malcolm chimed in. “I’ve spent enough time in them helping my sister out and have learned my way around them.”

  “I can make a plan for the garden and grounds,” said Seamus.

  “Once they have plans, I can go into the village to secure supplies and any additional help we still might need,” Tristan weighed in.

  Robbie was last. “I’ll take charge of the chapel and see what needs attention in it.”

  Her heart burst with happiness. She’d never had so much help back at home, but then again, she’d not needed it. And the men seemed to regard her as capable of leading the charge to repair the neglect of the estate.

  Hours later, after she’d made more lists then cleaned, she waited alone at the dining table, her husband nowhere to be seen, the Cameron men again choosing to go into the village for the evening meal.

  Once Andrew filled her cup of spiced wine for the second time, she became bold. “Have ye seen my husband?”

  “Yes, my lady. He is in his study and has asked not to be disturbed.”

  “Thank ye.”

  Things must not have gone well with the estate manager. “Is the man with the books still here?”

  “No, my lady, he left hours ago.”

  Surely her husband could have spared a few minutes to dine with her. Unbidden, her thoughts turned to the many nights her mother and she were alone at the table, her father and brother holed up in the study and ignoring them and the possibility they might be able to help.

  Taking a fortifying drink of her wine and pushing her plate as
ide, she rose, grabbing her husband’s untouched glass and plate. If he was not going to join her, she would go to him.

  When she reached the solid wood door of the study, she remembered the verbal abuse her mother had endured when she interrupted her father. Blair almost turned around, almost decided she should let Finlay guide what their relationship would be like. But no, she was determined their marriage would be different from her parents’. She would not be something to be forgotten until it was time for him to take his pleasure on her.

  She pushed the door in with her hip then squared her shoulders as she strode in. Finlay crossed his arms and studied her.

  “I brought ye something to eat.”

  “Thank ye.” Then he just stared at her as she attempted not to slink over like a scared mouse.

  Setting down the plate and cup, she smiled at him, but he didn’t move from the defensive, tense pose he’d taken up upon her entry.

  “Did the meeting go well today?”

  “It went as expected.”

  “Did ye get any answers?”

  He closed his eyes briefly and shook his head.

  “Are those the books?”

  Finlay nodded.

  “Is there something I can help ye with? I helped with the account keeping at home.”

  “Nae. I can do it.” He closed the books with a thump and pushed them to the other side of the desk, away from her.

  She beat down the hurt that settled in her chest. “Can ye no’ take a break to eat?”

  “Nae, I cannae.”

  “I can help if ye need it. I’m good with numbers. We can do it together.”

  “I dinnae want yer help. I dinnae need it. Go to bed, Blair. I have work to do.”

  The ground out words surprised her. He’d shown nothing but kindness toward her, except for the time in the village, after she’d imagined Bruce stalking her. He’d been truly angry with her then as well. Was there a side to her husband she didn’t know?

  Backing from the room, she didn’t let another word fall from her lips as she closed the door and meandered aimlessly down the hall. She didn’t know where she was going until she was outside, walking in the moonlight through the garden and into the soothing fields of lavender. She tried to tell herself that she meant more to Finlay than a pretty face to warm his bed.