The MacAulay Bride

by Nancy Pirri

  Aunt Marianne raised her eyebrows. "Why, Brianna, that is an amazingly progressive idea! We shall talk about this later, after we're through dealing with Sally's problems with her husband."

  Sally implored, "But I love having children."

  "Of course you do, dear, but perhaps you must first decide if you can afford to have any more," Grandmother Jean said practically. "I also favor further discussion on your ideas, Brianna."

  "Yes, wonderful idea, Brianna," said Mrs. Kennedy. "Are we ready, ladies?"

  Tess said, "Are you certain, Brianna? I'm willing to take your place."

  Brianna smiled and took Tess's hands. "You are too well known in Edinburgh, sweet sister-in-law, but thank you."

  "Onward!" The chorus of women's voices rose as they left the house. They rode in two carriages into Edinburgh, then marched down Queens Avenue, banners in hand and singing at the top of their lungs. Interested folks followed them. By the time they reached McTavish's Tavern, a fair sized crowd had gathered.

  A cold, nervous feeling in the pit of Brianna's stomach caused her to wonder, not for the first time, what she'd gotten into. It pleased her to join the Women's Temperance in their cause to save mankind. She wasn't certain she was up to the task, but she couldn't disappoint these women.

  The Women's Temperance Assembly had chosen her to confront Scotty Fergussen because she wasn't a notorious member yet. Her words, hopefully, should have more credibility than the other ladies'.

  "We'll wait right here for ye. Now remember, coerce Scotty into leaving the tavern, then we'll deal with him."

  Just before Brianna entered the building, Sally Fergussen stepped forward. "Scotty will be furious with me, Mrs. Kennedy. I've changed my mind. I can't go through with this!" she wailed.

  "Now, Sally." Mrs. Kennedy took the woman by the shoulders and shook her lightly. "Nothing will change if we don't make him see reason. Next time he could kill ye."

  She shook her head. "No, he wouldn't. But what we're planning to do will embarrass him and will only make things worse between us."

  "Better worse than dead," Mrs. Kennedy declared. "If he doesn't change his ways ye must divorce him."

  "But I don't want a divorce," Sally whined. "I love Scotty."

  Brianna said gently, "Of course you do. You've told us up until recently he's treated you well. Something must be bothering him. If we can convince him to confide in someone, we'll be able to help solve your dilemma. That's why we are interceding, on your behalf, Sarah."

  The woman visibly relaxed and nodded. "All right. I trust ye, Mrs. MacAulay."

  Brianna straightened her spine and pushed through a set of swinging doors. She stopped just inside the door. Her eyes widened upon the number of men drinking at the bar, in the middle of the day! The room went dreadfully quiet. Before she lost her nerve she approached the barkeep.

  "I'm looking for Scotty Fergussen."

  "You shouldn't be in here. Only men allowed," he said brusquely, scowling at her.

  Brianna looked pointedly at the women in various forms of dress and undress, then turned back to the barkeep.

  "There are a number of ladies present."

  "Them's women, not ladies. And--"

  A throaty voice snarled from across the room, "Ye bastard, McTavish. Don't ye say it!"

  A large breasted woman with wild red hair glared at the man.

  "Just point him out to me and I'll leave as soon as I've finished my business," Brianna said.

  The barkeep heaved a sigh and waved his hand toward the end of the bar. "That's him. The one with the black cap."

  Tentatively, Brianna approached the huge man sitting upon a stool. His head was tucked down, chin bumping his chest. He appeared to be mumbling into his mug of ale and shaking his head.

  "Mr. Fergussen?" Brianna stopped some distance away. When he didn't reply she cleared her throat and stepped closer. "Mr. Fergussen. I'd like a word with you, please."

  The big man spun around on his stool. His handsome face split into a big foolish grin, and he looked her up and down. "Well, what do we have here?" He arched his brow at McTavish. "A new girl?"

  McTavish growled, "This here's Laird MacAulay's wife, ye fool."

  Brianna blushed because he'd recognized her. She guessed it wouldn't be long before Harrison learned of her escapade. She jumped, startled when Fergussen's voice boomed through the tavern. "I remember ye now! I remember seeing ye prancin' through town on the laird's arm!"

  He seemed to have come to his senses and he peered suspiciously around the tavern then turned to her with a scowl. "And where might yer husband be?"

  "That is none of your concern. Your wife is waiting outside to speak with you."

  He raised his brows. "Sally's outside? Waitin' fer me, ye say?"

  Brianna nodded.

  Fergussen hauled himself off the stool and towered over her. "Why in the hell isn't she home, damn it?"

  Brianna backed up a step. "She's enlisted the Women's Temperance Assembly to help you see the sense of things, Mr. Fergussen. Need I remind you she's your wife and you are responsible for her and your children?"

  "Damned right she's me wife!" he exploded. "And it's no one's business but mine if I tip a pint or two after a hard day's work."

  He stumbled across the floor and headed for the door with Brianna on his heels. He weaved in the doorway, his eyes bleary as he sought out his wife.

  Sally stood on the walkway clutching the hands of two children.

  "Why aren't ye home, woman?" he bellowed.

  "I'm not leaving until ye come home with me, Scotty."

  Brianna nodded approvingly when she caught Sally's eye, admiring the woman's nerve in the face of her furious, inebriated husband.

  He growled low, "I'll show ye where yer place is." He bounded off the step and Brianna stayed close behind him. She tugged on his arm just as he reached Sally.

  "Mr. Fergussen, please. Just listen to what your wife has to say."

  She gasped when he planted a palm in the middle of Sally's chest and pushed. She fell to the ground, taking both children with her. The eldest Fergussen boy, who appeared to be about eight, pounced on his father. He pummeled him and screamed, "Don't ye do that, Da! No more hittin' Ma!"

  Fergussen stood there a moment, reeling in confusion in his drunken stupor. Finally he gathered his wits and shoved his son away. The boy fell to the ground but immediately scrambled to his feet.

  Sally cried, "No, Willie. Stop! I'm all right."

  It was too late. The crowd of women yelling furiously at the blacksmith didn't do a bit of good. They formed a huddle around Sally, trying to protect her from her husband, but the man's attention was now focused on his son. The boy had his fists raised in a fighting stance, ready and waiting for his father to attack.

  "Ye'll not be hittin' her again!" Willie shouted. "Ye won't!"

  "Goddamn ye boy, get yer arse on home!"

  Fergussen removed his wide, thick leather belt and swung it over his head. Brianna threw herself in front of Willie. The belt lashed her face, neck and chest as it came down. She screamed and clutched her face. Then she fell to her knees and huddled on the wet cobblestones.

  Anger blinded Fergussen to all except his disobedient son. He swung the belt a second time. Brianna lurched up, intercepting the blow again. She trapped Willie protectively in her arms as she turned. The belt struck her back, knocking her to the ground once more, her pain-racked body wrapped around Willie.

  All around her the women were shouting and screaming. Eyes shut, she held the sobbing boy in her arms. All sound faded as she retreated into the dark recesses of her mind where only pain dwelt. An eternity later, a loud snapping noise and a man's piercing howl of pain broke the silence.

  She managed to sit up, raising Willie with her. The sound came again. She lifted her head. Her eyes widened in horror. Harrison towered over Scotty Fergussen, now on his knees in the dirt, blubbering. The man cowered under upraised arms as he tried to protect himself from Harrison's
blows.

  Brianna stared. Her husband snapped a long, wicked whip across Fergussen's back with stunning accuracy. Fergussen's guttural screams rent the air with each strike of the whip. Brianna saw four strips torn away from the man's shirt one after another, exposing bloody flesh. If she didn't stop Harrison he'd kill the man. But she couldn't find the strength to stand up. She just sat there. The crowd murmured approval as the whip struck again, and again.

  Brianna closed her eyes and covered her ears. But it didn't stop her from hearing Fergussen's bellowing cries over the noise of the crowd. She raised her head and saw a huge fair-haired man, his arms wound around her husband's waist, pulling Harrison away from Fergussen.

  "Thank God!" Tess exclaimed as she ran to Brianna and kneeled beside her in the road. With a grin she said, "It's my husband."

  Brianna watched the Herculean man calm her husband. Then the men turned and strode swiftly to Tess and Brianna. Tess scrambled to her feet and she faced her husband, a tentative, yet welcoming smile on her lips.

  Harrison's strong arms lifted Brianna from her sprawled position. She looked up into his furious face, but she wasn't afraid.

  "We're going home," he said as he walked down the street with her cradled against his chest.

  Brianna shoved her palms against his chest. "What about Sally and her husband? I can't just leave her like this!"

  "There's no need to worry," he crooned softly.

  "We'll take care of things," Max said.

  Brianna glanced at Max's serious expression, thinking that if he smiled he would be gloriously handsome. She was satisfied when she saw him slide his arm around Tess's waist. Tess appeared to welcome his closeness as she visibly relaxed.

  Harrison's carriage was just a short distance away. Once they reached it, Stanton yanked open the door. Harrison lifted her inside and settled her onto the seat. She fully expected him to sit beside her, so she sat up, startled, when the door slammed shut.

  Brianna stuck her head out the window. "If I'm leaving, you're coming with me! We need to talk."

  Harrison leaned toward her, his face near hers in the window's opening. "We shall, later, after I've dealt with Fergussen. You do want to be sure Sally is safe, don't you?"

  Biting her lip, she decided his words made perfect sense. "Then I shall see you at home, my lord."

  "Home, Stanton!" Harrison bellowed.

  The coach lurched away. Brianna fell back against the seat, shrieking at the pain in her back. She rolled to her side, too tired to think about her husband's anger; too tired to move. Eventually she fell into a light, troubled sleep. She roused and sat up when the carriage stopped and looked out the window at the lovely sight of Winterhaven. Stanton opened the door and gently assisted her from the coach and up the stairs to Harrison's chambers. She collapsed on the bed.

  "Oh, God, that hurts!" she exclaimed as she sat up again. The scratchy fabric of her shirtwaist was irritating so she unbuttoned it and pulled it off. Quickly, she unhooked and removed her skirts and yanked down her petticoats. Heaving a deep sigh she rolled onto her side, managed to find a comfortable position and fell fast asleep.

  She woke later to a sharp pain in her back, and the realization that someone was touching her.

  "Stop!" she groaned. She started to rise from the bed.

  "I know it hurts, dear, but I'm trying to help ye," Aunt Marianne said, pressing her down. "I'm applying a healing balm to your back and shoulders. Be still."

  "Where is Harrison?"

  "Still settling things in town."

  She thought about the look on her husband's face as he'd carried her to their carriage. His thunderous expression she'd remember for a long while. "Is he very angry with me?"

  "Oh, Brianna! He's terribly upset. I wouldn't say he's precisely angry with ye, but he certainly is furious with the assembly of ladies. He's banned ye from attending any more of our meetings. I don't blame him. Never had any one of us envisioned Scotty Fergussen turning on ye like that. Never."

  "How long have I been sleeping?"

  "Not long. There now, I'm through. Ye will be sore for a week or so, but ye'll mend. Ye will have to sleep on your side, dear."

  "I'll manage," Brianna grimly replied.

  The door crashed open.

  Marianne rose from the bed. Brianna raised her head and looked over her shoulder. Her husband stood in the doorway, his clothes, hair and spectacles askew. There was no sign of the whip.

  He leveled a hard look on his aunt. "Leave us," he growled.

  "Now, Harrison, it wasn't Brianna's fault. We've told ye we had no idea the man would go berserk the way he did."

  "Leave, Aunt Marianne!"

  Marianne blanched, plucked up her skirts and moved toward the door.

  "Harrison! How dare you speak to your aunt that way!" Brianna said.

  His silver eyes flashed before he turned to his aunt and bowed slightly. "My apologies. I'll speak to ye after I've settled things here. Meet me in the library." And then, as an afterthought, said, "Please."

  After Marianne left, Brianna said, "All right, say what you will."

  He didn't utter a word, but gently touched her back. Brianna felt self-conscious with her state of undress beneath the sheet. Just a pair of thin cotton drawers covered the lower half of her body, and a chemise on top. She stiffened when something soft brushed her neck and moisture dampened her skin. She looked sideways and discovered her husband sitting on the bed beside her, his dark head buried in the space between her nape and shoulder.

  Frowning, she asked, "Harrison? What is it?"

  She was stunned when he raised his head and stared at her. Tears sparkled in his eyes behind his spectacles. His eyelashes were spiky and wet.

  "My God," he murmured. "I thought I was too late." He shuddered and wound an arm around her shoulder.

  Brianna squirmed away from him and sat up.

  "I'm very much afraid I shall be laid up for awhile with my back. According to your auntie, it's quite torn up." She saw his face turn white. She took his hand and smiled. "I shall mend. Don't worry so. Tell me, is Sarah all right?"

  "Fergussen escorted his wife and children home."

  Brianna widened her eyes unbelievingly. "Oh, no! He'll hurt them. Scottie Fergussen should have been locked up!"

  "He'll never beat them again. He's sworn off drinking and has promised never to enter a tavern."

  "And you believe him?" she asked incredulously. "Heavens, you were beating the man. What else could he say to make you stop?"

  "I believe him. Constable Murray, Max and I counseled him at the jailhouse. We sobered him up with coffee then forced him to tell us why he'd become a drunkard. He spilled his guts. By the time he finished, I understood his reasons."

  Brianna blustered, "There's absolutely no excuse for a man to abuse women and children."

  "Of course there isn't, but are you aware there are thirty-nine blacksmiths in Edinburgh?"

  "No, I had no idea." She lifted her brow. "So, what does that have to do with Fergussen's penchant for drunkenness and violence?"

  "Because of fierce competition he's been losing patrons. Drinking himself into a stupor was his way of coping with it. He couldn't tell his wife about his business failures."

  "I've heard this all before," Brianna said with a sigh. "Men and their damnable pride."

  Harrison took her hand and pecked her cheek. "Well, pride is a moot point now. He's accepted a job here at Winterhaven."

  Brianna raised her brow. "Haven't we a blacksmith already?"

  "Two, actually."

  What a lovely man! She started smiling then caught herself when she thought about her own problems. She had to find a way to convince this dunderheaded man that becoming a permanent member of the Women's Alliance was a wonderful idea. There were so many ways she could help the poor, abused women of Edinburgh. She'd been frightened of Fergussen during his rage, but it had dissipated during the carriage ride home. She was confident and more determined than ever to continue her i
nvolvement in the women's alliance.

  ***

  Brianna slept fitfully that night, after witnessing first hand Fergussen's abuse to his wife and son. She couldn't seem to find a comfortable position because of her pain. Even though she hadn't called out, Harrison heard her rustling about and spent the night at her bedside. She protested and told him to find his own bed. He ignored her and administered to her a dose of laudanum. She slept then, albeit fitfully.

  She wakened later in the morning to the sounds of raised voices. Loud, booming bass tones mixed with shrill ones seemed to pierce her bedroom floor. Her back and head throbbed with a dull ache. The arguing was aggravating the condition. She shoved her feet into her slippers, then shrugged into her robe. The shouting grew louder with each step she took as she made her way down the stairs. Standing outside the closed library door, she heard every word. Tess was in a high fury. Harrison's impatient voice burst forth time and again. The only calm voice was a low and gentle masculine tone she guessed was Max.

  It was time to put an end to this. She opened the door and stepped inside. Tess paced the library, near a long row of windows. Harrison was leaning against the hearth, arms folded, a foreboding expression on his face. Max was seated with his arms draped over the arms of his chair, one leg crossed over his knee. There was that serious look on his face again. She imagined him smiling then and sighed, guessing it would be devastating to womankind.

  Maximillian St. James, ninth Earl of Hardgrove's manly appearance was startling. His legs were long, his waist trim. The breath of his chest was wider than her husband's, which was amazing to Brianna. His wavy, white-blonde hair had been cut short, but the sideburns were long. He wore a full mustache, but no beard. His expression was serious, but was that a twinkle in his blue eyes? His tone was cool as he stated calmly, "It would take all the tea in China for me to take her back."