His Tarnished Ruby

by Kelsey McKnight

  “Conner, listen to me. He’s done nothing wrong. All he wants to do is court me, but I can’t do it.” Flora wiped at her eyes. “I can’t.”

  “And he would no’ take no for an answer?”

  “It’s not that…he just…he’s so kind and likes me so.”

  Conner stood there, aghast, for a moment. “All this because that lad likes ye?”

  Charlotte rushed in, wearing a dressing robe with a sword in her hands. “What’s going on?” Then she saw Flora seated on the floor before the door and her hazel eyes widened. “Flora! Are you all right?”

  “Yes,” she sobbed in response.

  “Flora, I can hear you!” Andrew called out. “And I know you can hear me. I know you’re safe, so I’ll go home now. But please, think about what I said. It’s all I ask.”

  She cried harder when she heard the sound of his carriage leaving—loud, raking sobs that made her throat sore. Conner exchanged glances with Charlotte before picking Flora up and carrying her up the stairs and to her bedroom. When he had sat her upon the trunk at the foot of her bed, he kissed her gently on the forehead. When he turned to leave, he paused for a moment, as if to say something, but then left her in the capable hands of his wife.

  Charlotte leaned the broadsword against the bed and began tending to her patient silently. She took off Flora’s furs and ruined slippers. Then she helped her out of her dress and stays and stockings, taking off her pearls last, leaving Flora in a damp shift.

  “Shall you have a nice bath?” Charlotte asked in a voice that was just above a whisper. “You’re so cold.” Just as she said this, two maids arrived. One carried wood and began to build the fire higher. The other carried a covered tray in one hand and a hot water bottle in the other.

  “I think I’d just like to get into something dry and get into bed,” Flora answered as the one maid began drawing back her covers and tucking the heated water bottle within.

  Charlotte pulled out a fresh nightgown for Flora, and once she was dressed, pulled the blankets well over her body. “Are you warm enough?”

  Flora wiggled her toes, which felt admittedly better. “Yes, just starving now.”

  “Poor duck didn’t even have supper?” Charlotte lifted the top of the tray the maid left. “It seems Conner sent you up some tea and a bit of the stew we had for dinner.”

  She breathed in the comforting smell and began eating as soon as Charlotte put the tray on her lap. The food warmed her frozen body and nourished her bruised heart. She tried to keep her thoughts from Andrew, instead focusing on counting each pin Charlotte plucked carefully from her hair. But by the time the pins were all gone, the thoughts of Andrew still remained.

  “I will not ask you what happened,” Charlotte said as she took the empty tray and dimmed the oil lamp beside Flora’s bed. “But I will ask you, what will you do now?”

  “I don’t know,” she replied.

  “Well, what do you want to do?”

  “I want to go home.”

  Chapter Twelve

  The train trundled past more rolling hills, their white tops glowing orange in the morning light. Flora leaned back into her velvet seat and clutched her plaid wrap tighter around her shoulders. She thought it strange how as soon as she stepped onto the train, she was shedding one part of herself for the other. When she left Scotland, she discarded her tartan and loose locks in favor of lace shawls and hairpins. And when she left England, she no longer wore her feathered hats and silk slippers and instead picked up her plaid and a pair of sturdy shoes for trekking the rocky slopes along the Scottish sea.

  Flora had to wait two days to get her ticket for the train home. The snow had to be cleared, and a private cabin secured for her use. So for two whole days she laid in bed, ignoring Andrew’s cards and flowers. She couldn’t bear to tear open the small envelopes, so she had tied them with a ribbon and tucked them safely into her traveling case. She knew that she should have sent him word of her leaving, but found that she couldn’t bear the thought of telling him goodbye.

  She heard a knock on her sliding door. Thinking it the breakfast she ordered, she rose and pulled it open to find Drummond standing in the corridor.

  “Mornin’, Flora. Can I come in?”

  “Of course.” She stepped aside and allowed him entry. They sat on either side of the cabin.

  “How are ye?” he asked, looking out the window. “We should be there in a few hours, but I wanted to see that ye were well.”

  “Fine,” she replied. “Where’s Penelope?”

  He waved his large hand. “Ye know her. Can no’ be seen without dressin’ up, or some such thing.”

  There was another knock on the door and a woman entered pushing a cart laden with tea, bacon, sausage, eggs, toast, potatoes, and biscuits. She left it between them, disappearing as quickly as she had come.

  “Finally,” Flora sighed, immediately biting into a piece of bacon.

  “That’s quite a breakfast. Did ye order for three?”

  She rolled her eyes. “I can’t have a full English breakfast?”

  “But why so much?” Drum asked as he speared a sausage with his dirk and took a bite.

  “Oh, yes, of course you can eat my food,” she said sarcastically as he took some toast.

  “Ye can no’ eat all this, ye’ll pop like a tick.”

  “Who cares if I get fat? All the proper spinsters are,” she explained, her mouth full of food. “I’m rather looking forward to not having to watch my figure as I raise a lovely heard of poodles.”

  “And when have ye ever watched your figure?”

  “I just want to drown my sorrows in fried eggs and pork. Is that so terrible?”

  Drum nodded. “Aye. Aye, I think it is.”

  “And why is that?”

  “Because I know how ye feel and I know ye feel like shite.”

  Flora put down her fork and took a sip of tea. “I feel fine.”

  Drum draped his arms over the tops of the seats. “Ye know, I remember a few months ago that you and I sat in a train cabin, much like this one.”

  “Oh, no,” she sighed, her appetite gone.

  “Oh, aye,” Drum replied with a grin. “Ye sat where I do now, tellin’ me what a fool I was bein’. You shook your wee finger at me and said that leavin’ Penelope in London was the worst thing I ever did and I would regret it the rest o’ my life.”

  “And now you’re happily wed. Yes, I know,” she muttered, crossing her arms over her chest.

  “Why can ye no’ do the same? He’s from a good family, no’ titled, but a hard worker. And from what I’ve heard, he’s right fond o’ ye.”

  “He asked me to…well, not to marry him, but to be in a courtship and…”

  “And what?”

  Flora leaned her head against the window, her breath fogging up the glass. “I just couldn’t.”

  “Do ye no’ fancy the lad? What’s wrong with him?”

  “Nothing. He’s smart, good looking, kind, funny when he cares to be, and he promised to give me everything in his power to give.”

  “Then what happened, Flora?”

  Tears pooled in her eyes, but she blinked them away. “I can’t tell you.”

  “Ye can tell me anythin’, lass. We’ve always been honest with one another, maybe to a fault. Hell, your meddlin’ in my business is what got me Penelope.”

  “You’ll judge me,” she whispered.

  Drum stood and pushed the cart aside, coming to sit beside Flora. “I’ll no judge ye, nor betray your secrets. Even to my wife, unless what ye tell me could be o’ harm.”

  “I…well, you know…you know Jasper…”

  “That arsehole? What o’ him?”

  Flora cringed. “Well, have you heard he’s been banished?”

  Drum scratched his chin. “Aye, I’ve heard he wronged his wife, or somethin’ o’ the like. I did no’ know he even had one. But I do no’ know the particulars o’ what he did.”

  “And no one will, thanks to Conner.�
�

  His green eyes narrowed. “Did he hurt ye, lass?”

  “Not like you think. For years he’s been flirting with me and I thought he would…that he might…. I thought we’d be married. Conner didn’t approve of my ideas and I thought that…well…” She closed her eyes as she felt the heat of her embarrassment burn her skin.

  “Oh, lass, ye did no’,” Drum groaned, hanging his head.

  “I did.”

  “Why would ye do such a thing?”

  “It worked for you and Penelope. I thought it would be the same for Jasper and I.”

  “But how did Conner come to find this out? Don’t tell me he caught ye…in the act?”

  Flora smiled wryly. “I didn’t go as far as you did and traipse around in my dressing gown.”

  “Then what happened?”

  “I went to Conner and told him everything, then demanded to be wed. He exploded. I was locked in my rooms and the next day they brought Jasper’s wife in and…well, I went to London to grieve with Charlie and we kept bumping into Andrew, who helped me to bed after your wedding. I was very drunk and Una…well, Una was seducing Jasper, and Andrew had a stutter and now he doesn’t and now I’m…here.”

  “Well, I did no’ understand much o’ that, but I’m failin’ to see why you are cross with Andrew.”

  “I’m not cross with him, and that’s the problem.”

  “Then tell me what is so we can stop goin’ about in circles.”

  Flora turned to him. “Can’t you see what’s wrong?”

  “No, I can no’.”

  “How?” Flora was exasperated. She didn’t wish to say aloud that she was a ruined woman.

  “Ye care for him, he cares for ye, and Conner does no’ have any issue with the match.”

  She hid her face in her hands. “I’m ruined.”

  “What did ye say? I can no’ year ye when your mouth is covered.”

  “I’m no longer a maid,” she whispered through her fingers.

  “Is that all?”

  Flora looked up at him, perplexed. “Did you hear me?”

  “Aye. And I’ll have ye know, I was no’ a maid when I bedded Penelope.”

  “But you’re a man! It’s different for you,” she cried, thumping a fist upon her thigh.

  “Perhaps, but she did no’ think so. And I would have still loved her if she had no’ been one.”

  “But Andrew is a true gentleman. He could never accept this.”

  “Have ye asked him?”

  Flora gasped. “And tell him what I did? Of course not!”

  “Is he so simple and soft that ye can no’ trust him?”

  “No, that’s not it.”

  “Then you’re scared?”

  His words were simple, but true. She was scared. The thought it rejection and shame frightened her. “I am. But now I’m going home and it’s over now.”

  “Did ye even tell him ye were leavin’?”

  Flora’s cheeks warmed. “Not exactly.”

  “Then he’ll knock on the door today and Conner will answer and tell him what?”

  “That I’ve gone home.”

  “Ach, at least I said goodbye to Penelope when I left.”

  “Ouch.”

  He patted her knee. “I know it hurts, but ye need someone to tell ye what you’re doin’ is wrong.”

  “Do you really think so?”

  “Aye, I do.” He stood. “I have to get back to Penelope now. And I think ye should find a way to get back to Andrew. As a wise Scottish lass with a big, loud mouth once told me, ye do no’ simply find a love like that and let it slip through your fingers. But if ye do, ye never deserved it anyway. And, Flora, I’ve known ye since birth. Ye are my blood and my kin and ye deserve a great love.”

  ***

  “Flora!” Gwen burst from the doors of the MacLeod keep as soon as the line of carriages came to a halt.

  Flora grinned as her curly haired sister pulled her into a hug the moment her feet landed on Scottish ground. “Oh, Gwen, I’ve missed you so terribly.”

  “I had no idea you were coming back! Wee Ian was out riding with Big Angus and they saw your carriages.”

  “Still, how did you know it was us?”

  “Who else would be coming?” Gwen giggled then shrieked when Drum swooped in behind her and lifted her into a bear hug. “You two are back as well?”

  “When Flora said she was leaving, it just made sense to accompany her,” Penelope explained. “Besides, we needed to ensure that all was well with our home.”

  “Then are you leaving right away?” Gwen pouted prettily as soon as Drum put her down.

  Flora pulled her plaid tighter around her shoulders as a gust of wind tore through them. “No, they’re going to stay on a few days. But can we go inside? It’s freezing.”

  “Oh! Of course!” Gwen hooked her arm into Flora’s and leaned in close. “Has something happened? I thought I wouldn’t see you until the New Year.”

  “I’ll explain everything in due time. I just want to get into a bath and wash the scent of travel off me.”

  The girls walked up the stairs into Flora’s bedchambers, where Gwen quickly ran a bath, fragrant with orange blossoms. Once she was undressed, Flora gratefully dipped into the water. But she was only allowed a few moments of peace before Gwen began sighing and tapping her shoe expectantly.

  “Please stop that,” Flora begged. She debated holding her head under the water, merely to avoid the impending conversation, but feared that drowning would be a rather unattractive way to die.

  “You know that I can’t.”

  “Why is it that we always have these types of conversations while I’m in the bath?”

  “Because you can’t run away,” Gwen said simply. “Now, tell me everything. Even just the condensed version will do.”

  Flora took a breath, suddenly feeling exhausted. “Might we have this conversation another day? I’m just so tired of thinking about it. Please, just let me think of other things.”

  She frowned, but asked nothing more of London. “Well, wee Ian has taken in a pregnant barn cat, much to the maids’ dismay. Cook is also planning a large feast this year for Martinmas.”

  “Is it already November? My, time has passed.”

  “Drum and Penelope were married two nights before Samhain, remember?”

  “Oh, yes. With everything going on, it must have slipped my mind.”

  “So be prepared to help with the black pudding this year. Some of the maids left the castle, and Cook doesn’t know if she can get new girls in beforehand to help in the preparations.”

  Flora thought that odd. It was rare that a maid left MacLeod keep unless it was to be married. Conner always ensured they were paid well and were kept housed and generally happy. “Why did they leave?”

  Gwen averted her eyes and paused a moment before replying. “Well, I suppose it’s better you hear it from me…it seems that Jasper had sown his wild oats a bit more than we thought. When he left, several maids left as well out of the shame of his wife appearing and all that. One was with child.”

  “Goodness,” she murmured, wishing she had left Gwen behind when she went for a bath.

  “Yes, so we’re a tad shorthanded. I was going over the accounts and—”

  “The accounts?”

  “Yes, you know I’ve always had a head for numbers. I asked Conner if I could practice with the accounts here. It’s something that will come in handy when I’m married and will be a great help when I must run my own household. I know you wouldn’t have noticed, but I have been in charge of the accounts for a number of months now.”

  Flora’s brows rose at Gwen’s nonchalance. “You know, I’ve never heard you speak of the future. It’s quite odd, now that I reflect upon it.”

  “I’m eighteen now. I suppose marriage is something that I should begin thinking about. Being able to run a household is an attractive skill to most men.”

  “Gwendolyn, do you have a suitor?” Flora asked with a wide s
mile. “Who is it?”

  Gwen rolled her eyes. “I’m allowed to pick up useful talents without having a particular man in mind.”

  “Well, that’s no fun. But still, tell me how you’re finding your work.”

  “It’s easier than I thought it would be. I just keep track of the household, the deliveries, the trades, and I’ll be marking down the taxes over the coming days, if Conner isn’t back soon enough to oversee it.”

  “That’s a lot of responsibility.”

  “It keeps me busy. I like the quiet and the stillness of numbers. Besides, no one bothers me when I appear very busy and I rather like not being bothered with to go sew with the other ladies and such. But I am having a bit of trouble with something.”

  “What is it?”

  “There’s one Spanish ship we do trade with, several times a year. They bring us things from the south and east, usually spices, rice, tobacco…several things. Well, it seems as if they have been shorting us, costing the treasury a good deal of money.”

  Flora thought to the fragrant Indian tea she loved and the beautiful ivory bracelets she had received for her last birthday. Forgoing those exotic pleasures would make her very unhappy. “But if we stop trade with them, how will we get those things?”

  “On the recommendation of one of Baron Elmsly’s friends, I’ve sent word to a Portuguese trader last month at his home port, as soon as I had severed ties with the Spanish ship. I hope he gas gotten my message with the new orders, or we’ll be without some of our creature comforts for a time.”

  “I’m sure all will be well.”

  “I as well. He sails the…oh, what is it called?” Gwen bit her lip and Flora could almost see her mind at work as she thought. “Oh, A Sereia I believe.”

  “What?”

  “A Sereia,” she repeated slowly. “It’s Portuguese for…dolphin, perhaps? I can’t recall.”

  “You don’t know?”

  Gwen scoffed. “I speak French and German, not Portuguese.”

  “Oh, my mistake.” She giggled before wringing the soap from her hair. “Hand me a towel and my robe, please.”

  Gwen held out both, and when Flora was dry and wrapped tightly, she sat before the fire to brush her tangled hair. Her sister took the seat opposite and pulled her feet up, wrapping her arms around her knees. Flora watched Gwen as she peered into the flickering flames of the fire. She knew her sister was dying to know what happened, but respected her wishes to have one night of peace.