With a final pat to the animal she had been admiring, she remarked, “Well, I must be going. Got to order some things in town. My cousin is coming to spend a few days with me.”
He looked quizzically at her. “Yes, I heard about the doings you are having for her.” Then, much to her surprise, he asked, “Am I invited?”
“Why, Aidan, I had no idea you would want to come to a birthday party. It won’t be much you know, just a simple supper, probably meat pies, and a few other things to go along with them, and no strong drinks. A few games and music, that’s all. Do you think you would like that? I didn’t think to ask you.”
He narrowed his eyes as he questioned, “Is young Kevin coming?”
She laughed. “Och aye, I couldn’t leave him out. I need him to help me with the music.”
“Then I would like to come also.”
Bridget cocked her head to one side and smiled. At the moment, he looked so much like a hurt little boy, she had an impulse to reach up and kiss his handsome face, but restraining herself she said, “All right Aidan, I’m doing it on my own and maybe you can be of some help to me if the occasion arises.”
He reached toward her, and kissed her gently on the cheek, causing her heart to race. “Anything at all I can do, lassie, just let me know.” He went off whistling, leading his two horses away.
She gazed at him with mixed emotions as he walked away from her. She had noticed that lately he acted as if she weren’t around, and when he did talk to her, it was more like a brother addressing a sister. She wondered now if he and Elsie had decided to marry, and for some reason this thought hurt her. Or maybe he had found another love. Dashing and handsome as he was, she felt quite sure he would have no difficulty getting almost any girl he wanted. She herself had discouraged his advances and now felt almost sure that what she had heard about him was true. She would have been another one to add to his list. It was with a sort of empty feeling she started down Castle Brae to go into town.
Many women were already out scrubbing the pavements in front of their houses along the way, some polishing brass door knobs, nameplates, and knockers. Those with windows at street level, busily shined the glass panes.
This was the first order of the day in town, to get the front entrances clean and shining. Bridget waved and called out greetings to many she knew along the way, and at the moment felt that life was very good. A brisk spring breeze was blowing as she stepped along and soon the exercise and fresh air brought a rosy glow to her face.
When she came to the old Parish Kirk on the Broad Gate, she stepped inside to sit for a moment in one of the back pews. Other people were there also but peace and quiet reigned throughout.
As always, her attention was drawn to the beautiful stained glass window that adorned the chancel of the Kirk. The thought of being organist for a while in this hallowed sanctuary filled her with pride, but humility also.
As she sat in quiet contemplation, she could almost hear the music of the recessional and see the black robed members of the choir walking in the aisle. A few moments later, renewed and refreshed, she quietly left the Kirk and went about the tasks at hand.
The birthday party had been a success but was coming to an end. Bridget thought Margaret looked almost pretty dressed as she was in a full skirted, soft blue dress of Bridget’s, her hair tied back with a matching blue ribbon. The few guests who had come, including Margaret’s older sisters and Aileen, had been most gracious and generous to her, each presenting her with some small gift if they could.
As Margaret bade everyone goodnight, her cheeks were flushed with pleasure, especially when Sandy, one of the young stable boys, held her hand a little longer than was necessary. Starry eyed she came towards her cousin, saying, “Bridget, I’m so happy tonight. Never have I had such a nice time. You are so good to me.”
“Not at all, Margaret, everyone should have a party once in a while, and I was happy to do it for you. Now you go by the fire and talk with Robert. Aidan and I will do the cleaning up. This has been your big day, and I don’t want you to do any work. Robert will entertain you with some of his stories.”
Aidan accompanied her to the kitchen. Besse was nowhere in sight. She had seemed displeased about the party, but there was nothing she could do to stop it and had apparently gone to her bedroom just off the kitchen. Bridget had been true to her word and arranged everything herself. She wished Besse would have taken the opportunity to take some time off if she didn’t want to participate, but when Bridget offered Besse had declined, saying that Robert might need her.
Soon Bridget and Aidan had the dishes washed, parlor tidied up, and everything in ship shape order again. Bridget smiled as she watched him fold the dish towel he had been using.
“Have you ever dried dishes before Aidan? Looks funny to see you working in the kitchen.”
He smiled good-naturedly. “I don’t do too much of it, but can when I have to. The foster family I lived with after I was orphaned gave me good training in survival. Fighting, riding, fishing, and hunting. Even housework at times.”
Bridget was shocked, having no idea that Aidan was an orphan. She felt a softening toward him, thinking his poor manners may not have been his fault.
Aidan continued, “It was getting increasingly harder though to make a decent living. One time when your grandfather came to visit the people whose home I lived in, he offered to bring me down here and give me a chance to better myself and also relieve them of the responsibility.” His face showed a fair off expression. “That seems so long ago now, but I am thankful I came, and will never forget what Mr. MacDonald did for me.”
Bridget’s heart softened further at his words. “I’m glad he brought you here, Aidan,” she said softly, surprising herself, “but don’t you miss the Highlands? It must be beautiful there. I’ve heard my father speak of them. He goes there with the fishing fleet when their season is on. He is there now.”
“Aye, lassie, the Highlands are very beautiful, wild and beautiful. I do miss the bens and lochs, but you can’t eat scenery, you know,” he said with a sad smile. Bridget couldn’t argue with that.
Hanging up the towel he was holding, he came closer to her. Changing the subject, he asked her, “Weren’t you afraid to let your bonny lad walk another girl home tonight, even if it was your sister?”
“Oh, Aidan, I’ve already told you Kevin is not my lad. If he has his eye on my sister Aileen and gets the promotion he spoke of the other night, I’ll be happy if they someday become engaged. My only interest in him is the music we share.”
“You don’t mind a younger sister getting engaged before you, then?”
“Not at all, I’m not interested in men at this time. Too many other things to think about.”
All smiles now, he quickly came towards her. He turned down the kitchen lamp and they were almost in total darkness. Possessively, he put his arms about her.
She trembled at his touch. As if drawn against her will, and definitely against her better judgment, she slipped her arms around him, holding him close as she returned his kisses.
He whispered, “Well now, lassie, that’s more like it, but is it just out of gratitude because I helped you tonight or have you maybe grown to like me after all?”
“What difference does it make whether I like you or not? You already have a lass.”
She tried to pull away from him then, but he held her close, saying, “I’ve had lots of lassies, but none as sweet as you, love.”
“Oh no, what about Elsie?”
“I don’t know,” he answered, kissing her again, “what about Elsie?”
“She told me that you and she plan to be married one of these days, and while she didn’t say it in so many words, I’m to keep my hands off.”
Unperturbed and still holding her tightly, he said, “That’s what she likes to think, but it isn’t what I think or want. What did you tell her?”
“I said I hoped she would be very happy if and when that day ever comes.”
He threw back his head and laughed. “I would have given anything to see the two of you going at it.” Then more seriously he continued, “Elsie was one of the first people to welcome me after your grandfather brought me here, but we only see each other occasionally. There has been nothing serious as far as I am concerned. She is not my idea of what a wife should be.”
“That’s your own affair, Aidan,” she said, pulling away from him, “and now let’s go back to the parlor before Margaret comes looking for me.”
“All right, Bridget,” he whispered in the darkness, “but just one thing more. This may not be the right time or place for what I have to say, but hear me out.” He hesitated, then went on, “I love you, Bridget, and want you to be my wife. Would you ever consider marrying me?”
Her heart was pounding as she heard the pleading tone in his voice and realized just how much she really did care for him. She thought it would so easy to let go and fall for him, but she just couldn’t. She stammered, “I like you well enough as a friend, Aidan, but as I told you before, I have no plans to tie myself down to any man for a while. Maybe a long while. I’m sorry, Aidan, but that’s the way it is.”
Although she couldn’t see him clearly, she felt his body tense in anger. He said tersely, “All right, Bridget, I shall not ask you again or bother you in any way. A man can only take so much, and if you should ever change your mind, you will have to come to me.” Then releasing her so suddenly she almost fell, he turned and left her, going directly toward his own quarters in the back of the house.
Bridget straightened her dress and brushed back her hair, but it was with a sinking feeling in her heart that she went and joined her grandfather and cousin by the fire.
“Isn’t Aidan with you, lass?” he asked
“No, Robert, he said he was going directly to bed.”
“That’s funny, I never even saw him go by.”
Yawning, she sat down beside them saying, “I’ve had about enough for one day too and feel we should all get to our bed, but would you like to finish the birthday cake before we do? There is just a little of it left.”
“Oh yes, Bridget,” answered Margaret. “That would be a perfect ending to a perfect day.”
“And what about you, Robert?”
“No, lassie, I’ve had enough for tonight.” As he got to his feet and stretched, he added, “It’s very late, and you better not eat too much either, it might spoil your rest.”
He patted Bridget’s head as he passed her saying, “Goodnight, girls, I’ll see you in the morning.”
Bridget smiled up at him, “Goodnight, Grandfather, I hope you sleep well.”
Later in her room, she vigorously brushed her hair in front of the wardrobe mirror as she thought of Aidan and this latest development in their relationship. She wondered what his attitude would be in the morning. She was startled from her reverie when Margaret blurted out, “I want to stay here with you a few days longer than we had planned on, Bridget, so I can get to know young Sandy better. I think he likes me from the way he acted tonight, and I want to see more of him.”
Eyes popping in surprise, Bridget answered quickly, “No, Margaret, that is quite impossible. I have to start my new projects for Miss Wallace next week and would not be able to be here with you, and I’m sure Besse wouldn’t want you under her feet. She was upset enough about your party tonight. Hadn’t you noticed she didn’t even put in an appearance?”
“You couldn’t see much of Sandy anyway, if you did stay. He is always very busy during the day and goes home in the early evening. You will have to make other arrangements to see him.”
Laying her hair brush on the dressing table, Bridget turned to her cousin. “You still have all day here tomorrow, and if Sandy likes you, as you think he does, you will have ample opportunity to talk with him and make your plans. Don’t get your hopes up too high though, I think Sandy has a young lady he goes out with, much as I hate to tell you that, but of course if he likes you better, that could change.”
Margaret didn’t answer for a moment. When she did, her voice sounded as if she were close to tears. “You are so lucky, Bridget, everything good comes your way and nothing I want ever seems to happen. If only I could play beautiful music like you do, I would be happy.”
“You don’t learn to play beautiful music by luck, cousin. That takes years of study and hard work, and you could do it as well as I if you would be willing to work for it.”
Bridget was irritated by her cousin’s attitude and felt glad she would be leaving the following day.
Margaret’s petulant voice broke in on her thoughts. “Well, you’ve got Aidan, and right in the same house with you. Wouldn’t you call that luck?”
“Yes, if I wanted him for my man it would be, but I am not interested in him or any other man at the present time.”
“Maybe not, Bridget, but he wants you. I can tell the way he never takes his eyes off you. You should jump at the chance of him. I would, if he’d only give me a second look.”
Bridget thought that an odd thing to say after Margaret had just begged for the chance to spend time with Sandy. She saw that her cousin was wound up and likely to stay all night and talk if she didn’t hint to her that it was time to go. Bridget turned the lamp down low and got into bed. Pulling the covers up under her chin and snuggling into the warm depths of the feather bed, she asked Margaret if she would be so kind as to close the door securely on the way out. The woman looked affronted but did as she was asked.
When she’d gone, Bridget felt herself relax and realized how tired she was. She considered that Margaret had never truly thanked her for the work she did throwing her the party, but she wasn’t the type to demand gratitude. It was enough that she got to do something nice for her cousin.
Her mind turned to Aidan and how angry he had been when he left her a short time ago. She wondered if she had been too hasty with him, but what was done was done and no recriminations or regrets could change a thing. Turning on her stomach and pushing her hands under the pillow, she sighed deeply and was soon asleep.
Sometime in the night, Bridget awoke with the frightening feeling that she was suffocating. Her face was being pushed hard into the feather mattress,and there seemed to be a dead weight on top of her, pressing her down. Terrified, the thought flashed through her mind that if it were Aidan she’d never be able to push him off but if it were Besse she might be strong enough to dislodge her.
She was fast losing consciousness, her lungs felt like they were bursting. She started thrashing madly around and kicking her feet in desperation. Suddenly, she felt the pressure lessen slightly, and in her wild flailing, rolled off the bed onto the floor, hitting her head against the nightstand as she fell.
Her eyes flew open as she sucked in a large amount of air. Her head throbbed. She touched her hand to her head, checking for blood. It didn’t feel wet. As she lay gasping for air, taking desperate gulps, she wondered if she’d blacked out for a moment. Suddenly remembering why she’d rolled off her bed in the first place, her eyes darted frantically from side to side. She expected to feel her assailant come at her again, but there was no further attack. After a few moments, she cautiously sat up and looked around in the dim light. No one was there, but the door to the hallway stood open as if someone had left in a hurry.
Frightened, she got up off the floor and closed the bedroom door, slipping the bolt into place. Listening for any sound and feeling totally unnerved, she lay back down in bed, but no sleep came for the rest of the night.
As the light of day streaked across the sky, she heard the sounds of Robert getting the fire going in the downstairs parlor and Besse bustling around in the kitchen. Getting up slowly, still feeling shaken, she washed her face and hands in cold water from the pitcher on the nightstand that she had almost knocked over in the night.
She dressed hurriedly, and then awakened Margaret in the room down the hall before going downstairs to help Besse with the breakfast. It had been hard to wake Margaret up. Bridget envi
ed her ability to sleep so soundly, something she wasn’t sure she’d ever do again.
Robert was reading by the fire but looked up as she came into the room. “Ah, good morning my dear. Did you have a good sleep?”
“Oh, fairly good, Robert,” she began, “but had a bit of a nightmare, I think. I’ve never experienced anything like that before and can’t imagine what happened. It actually felt someone was trying to suffocate me. I struggled and ended up on the floor.”
Her grandfather looked incredulous, “You mean you fell out of bed, lass?”
“Yes, I actually did, and slammed against the nightstand as I fell. It’s a wonder I didn’t wake everybody up.”
Before they could have further discussion, the others came in for breakfast and Bridget busied herself helping Besse to serve. She scrutinized Besse closely but could see no sign of nervousness about her to indicate guilt. She decided it wasn’t Besse who had come into her room in the night, that or she was very good at hidings her feelings.
She wondered next if it could have been Aidan. He had been terribly angry with her when she turned him down the night before. But still, she didn’t want to think this of him, although he did stand to lose a lot, if she became any more of a favorite with Robert than she already was. She dismissed any thought of her ailing grandfather or her fragile cousin being behind the night’s attack. She’d more likely believe it was Sarge, or a ghost. She would have to be extra careful from now on.
Margaret sat at the table looking sullen, her face swollen with sleep. She seemed lost in her own world. Bridget presumed she hadn’t gotten over her disappointment at not being able to extend her stay at Ty-Runach.
Bridget became aware of tension at the table when suddenly Robert said, “Did you ever fall out of bed before, Bridget?”
Bridget blushed. “Grandfather!” she exclaimed. Besse would easily have overheard them talking before with her bedroom off the kitchen, but Bridget had not wanted anyone else to know.
Aidan has a slight sneer on his face when he asked, “How could such a thing happen, Bridget? You never take a drink, so you couldn’t have been tipsy. Come on tell us what it’s all about.”
Resisting the Highlander: A Scottish Romance Page 8
