by Alisa Adams
* * *
He glared at her then turned away as if too disgusted to look at her.
"I am unworthy of you," she whispered, "and - there is one more thing," she looked up at him with absolute dread in her heart," Connor - someone has stolen my necklace!" She closed her eyes, waiting for him to raise his voice, and she wished he would. She wanted to be reprimanded for her guilt. It was the only way she could handle it.
"This necklace?" he held it up by his forefinger then dropped it into her lap, "I took it before you came back because I don't think you deserve it."
* * *
She nodded slowly in agreement.
"You are right," she agreed, "I cannot stay here, obviously," she said, passing her hand in front of her eyes, which were stinging with stress, "but can we stay a few more days till I find us somewhere else to live?"
"What makes you think I would even consider such a thing after what you've done to me?" he rounded on her, his face a mask of fury, "do you not think that even now the servants' grapevine is spreading this news far and wide? Soon everyone from here to Glasgow will know and I will be a laughing stock!"
Monique could think of nothing to say. Her hands were clasped tightly in her lap, but presently she stood up and wiped her eyes. She took the necklace from her lap and laid it on his bedside table. He immediately snatched it up and pressed it into her hand.
"Keep it," he growled, "you will get quite a few pounds for it if you sell it in Glasgow, and you may need the money, for you are not getting a penny from me."
Monique wavered for a moment. Her pride wanted to throw the necklace back at him, but common sense told her that there was truth in his words, and she could not eat pride. She closed her hand around the necklace and held it tightly, pressing it to her heart.
"You have one week," he said angrily, "and during that time, you, your sister and her two brats will keep to your rooms for meals and all other activities. If you need to go out, use the servants' staircase. Do you understand?"
At last her anger rose to meet his own.
"I may be unworthy, Connor, but I am not stupid and I speak excellent English. Do you speak French?"
"Do you speak Gaelic?" Connor put his hands up to call a halt, realizing just how stupid the tit-for-tat argument sounded.
"Connor," Monique stepped up close to him, "please believe me that I never meant to hurt you. I would have married you and been a faithful wife, I have no excuse for what I did and I hope that in time you will be able to forgive me."
He looked closely at her, her fair, almost white hair and warm brown eyes. He gazed at her red, cupid-bow lips that he had kissed so often and wanted to kiss forever more. How he hated her - and how he loved her!
45
Battle of Words
Monique's energy seemed to have drained out of her when she rejoined her sister.
"It's what we expected," she said heavily, "he has thrown us out. We have a week to pack and go."
"Go where?" Juliette asked. There was panic in her voice, which scared Monique. Her sister had always been so strong and capable, but now she was clearly frightened for herself, but especially for her children.
They walked slowly back to the parlor, where the boys had now settled and were quietly playing a game of checkers. Juliette looked at them and the love in her heart was almost a physical pain. How could she let them become homeless? In ten days' time, it would be Christmas, but there would be no cheer this year unless there was a miracle. She began to weep silently and surreptitiously wiped her face so that the twins would not notice, but they were too engrossed in their game.
* * *
"Bonjour, Maman," they chorused, "Hello Mommy," they greeted her briefly.
* * *
"Bonjour, mes enfants," she replied, "Hello, my children."
* * *
Then they went back to their game.
"Do you think -" Monique began.
"Hugh?" Juliette supplied hopefully.
Monique thought for a moment.
"He loves the boys," she said thoughtfully, "and he loves me. He knows about my problem, though."
"You think he may not want you anymore?" Juliette asked anxiously.
* * *
Monique nodded sadly.
"But he is our only hope."
Juliette looked out of the window. It had begun to snow, and the flakes were settling on the ground without melting. In a day or so it would be a foot deep. She bit her lip and sighed.
"Surely Connor would not throw us out in the snow?" she asked incredulously.
"I would not be too sure, but I am unwilling to take the chance," Monique frowned and looked out into the garden. It was too dark to ride to Dumbarton Castle now, but she resolved to do it first thing in the morning. They had dinner in Monique's bedroom, then went to bed, but none of them slept that night except the boys, who slept the sleep of the just.
When Connor got up next morning he had a splitting headache caused by the five glasses of whiskey he had drunk before he went to bed. He was still tired, his eyes were red and itchy, his skin was blotchy and he was very, very angry. He rubbed his eyes hard and saw spots for a moment, then he flopped back down on his bed.
He finished the glass of whiskey that he had left beside the bed when he had passed out the previous night and felt a little better. But he was still furious and felt like riding straight down to Dumbarton Castle and confronting Hugh. He stood for a moment, irresolute, then decided to do just that. He did not wash, shave or put on clean clothes, but went out in the ones he'd had on when he lapsed into unconsciousness the night before. He saddled his horse and tore out of the castle as though a horde of demons were chasing him.
The snow had acquired a thick crust overnight but his anger was blinding him to any danger, and Connor was on a mission which nothing was going to stop him from fulfilling. He came to the castle gates without mishap, however, and the guards at the gate who knew him by sight admitted him without any fuss. As soon as he was inside the walls he demanded to see the Laird, barely able to contain his fury.
* * *
Hugh guessed at once what had happened, and steeled himself for the coming encounter. Connor was pacing the entrance hall just inside the front door, his face a mask of fury. He looked up when he heard Hugh's footsteps and it darkened even further.
"You treacherous swine!" he shouted, holding up Monique's letter, "you knew she was promised to me!"
"Guilty as charged on both counts," Hugh said evenly, "but Monique is as guilty as I am, and I am sure she will agree with me. What we did was not honorable, but she broke off our affair so that she could be true to you."
"Because she told you so?" Connor's voice was incredulous, "because she wrote a letter? Have you not yet learned how devious she is, man? Do you know how many believable excuses she made so that she could go to you? How carefully she chose her time? "
Hugh wondered if she had told him about her infertility, but decided to say nothing. He himself was beginning to rage inside, but he had decided to let Connor work the fury out of his system, so he stood immobile while Connor walked up and down calling him every foul epithet he could think of. Eventually, he came to a halt and stood in front of Hugh, his eyes blazing.
* * *
"You will never, ever be accepted in polite society again!" he spat, "and I will make sure that no-one trades with you either. Your household knows and soon my household will know. There is going to be a scandal bigger than any you have ever known before."
"I think my reputation is such that it can withstand the scandal," Hugh replied calmly, "and even if it is not, those who will despise me are not worth knowing anyway. Monique is your fiancee, not your wife, Connor. She has not, in truth been unfaithful to you."
Connor took a deep breath and let it out slowly to control himself.
" I take pleasure in the fact that my whore of a fiancee is not going to be in living under my roof come Friday," he growled, "and after that,
* *
*
all she, her goods, chattels and leeching relatives will be living in the forest! Good day to you, Laird Buchanan."
* * *
Connor spun on his heel and left without allowing Hugh to say another word. He was angry at Connor's words but elated that Monique was free, and she would not be living in the forest, but with him.
Monique had watched Connor storming out of the castle and knew immediately where he had gone. She took a bath which was filled for her by two very sullen servants, then got dressed and put on her old brown riding habit. She ate as much of her breakfast as she could stomach and then waited.
An hour later Connor came back and went straight to his office, demanding that his breakfast be sent there. Monique waited till the coast was clear then began the journey to Hugh's house. It was a distance of only two miles but took her an hour because unlike Hugh she was careful in the treacherous conditions. It had begun to snow again by the time she got there, and she was freezing, despite her warm cloak.
46
Sanctuary
As soon as he heard her footsteps in the echoing hallway Hugh came out to meet her and opened his arms so that she could run into them. They stood embracing each other for a moment while Hugh closed his eyes and buried his face in the soft scented mass of her hair.
"You are an icicle!" he laughed, and they went into his office where a huge fire was burning in the grate. Hugh pulled up a chair for her as close to the blaze as he could, and she sat for a moment warming her hands.
"He was here, was he not? Connor?"
Hugh nodded.
"Yes," he took her hand in both of his and kissed them. "He said you would be homeless come Friday, but you will never be homeless as long as I am here to protect you. You, Juliette and the boys have a home here for as long as you want it."
"Oh, Hugh! Thank you!" she burst into tears and he sat down and pulled her onto his lap. He kissed her through her tears and said softly:
"Will you be my wife, Monique?"
She nodded, unable to speak because she was laughing and crying at the same time. This morning she had been miserable, but now her whole world had changed - and she would be with Hugh forever. Then she remembered something.
"But Hugh - I cannot give you children," she said anxiously, "no sons."
He shrugged.
"I have a daughter who will no doubt give me grandchildren," he pointed out "and in the meantime, I have your nephews who will definitely give me enough trouble to be getting on with! It is more than a lot of men have and I am satisfied, Monique."
* * *
She hugged him as if she would never let him go.
"Merci, mon chèr, merci," she breathed, "thank you, my dear, thank you."
* * *
They sat quietly for a while then she said:
"This will cause a terrible scandal, mon chèr. We will never be received in polite society again."
* * *
"Exactly what Connor said," Hugh's tone was nonchalant, "my true friends will stand by me, and the rest- well, they were not friends anyway."
Monique thought for a moment.
"So you would give up your friends, the chance of another child, and adopt a family you hardly know? For me?"
"For you," he answered, smiling, "but you in return must take care of me. You must be a very good wife - day and night!" his eyes twinkled as he said it, and she laughed. Then she sighed sadly.
"I must go," she said regretfully, "I need to pack."
"I will send a carriage for you in two hours," he looked at his pocket watch, "is that enough time?"
"We have very little to pack," she smiled, "Oh, mon chèr, it will be wonderful!"
* * *
"We are going to have the merriest Christmas ever," Hugh said, smiling grimly, "Rosina will be back in a few days and that always means mayhem!"
Monique giggled.
"I can't wait!" she said happily. Hugh watched her as she mounted her horse and rode away into the snow. It was even colder now, but Monique had her love to keep her warm.
* * *
Juliette was ecstatic. As soon as she heard the news she began to pack their trunks, and within an hour all their possessions were safely stowed away. Monique looked at the diamond and sapphire necklace and debated whether to keep it or give it back. Juliette shook her head.
"Sell it," she advised, "and give the money to a worthy cause, perhaps an orphanage or something. God knows, there are plenty of worthy causes around here!"
"I knew you would know the answer," Monique said fondly, hugging her sister, "you always do. How could I live without you?"
"I think you exaggerate, Monique!" Juliette laughed.
"Come on, let's go and wait for the carriage, my sweet sister," Monique said happily, then, arms around each other, they went downstairs.
The boys were waiting impatiently, playing hide and seek around the little alcoves in the big hall, when Connor came up to them.
"Going so soon?" his tone was so sarcastic that Juliette felt like slapping him. On an impulse, Monique took the necklace out of her purse and offered it to him.
"It's yours - it was a gift - keep it," he said flatly. "I don't want it. Sell it, pawn it, give it away, I don't care. I take it you are going to live with Hugh?"
Monique nodded.
"Forever?"
"Till death do us part," she quoted from the marriage ceremony, her eyes never leaving his.
"You bitch," he ground out viciously, "you will pay for this - I don't know how or when but you will!"
Then he turned and almost sprinted away. Monique was white with shock and her heart was hammering - she had never seen such hate in anyone's face before. Just then the carriage arrived and as they climbed up Juliette could see Connor's face looking down at them from a rampart. Truly, she thought, if looks could kill we would all be dead.
When they got to Dumbarton Castle the first thing the two boys did was run to Uncle Hugh and hug him, laughing. He picked both of them up and once and kissed them, then put them down again.
"Will you teach me French?" he asked, "please?"
"Oui, bien sûr," they chorused, "yes, of course."
Hugh bent down and said quietly as if trying not to be overheard:
* * *
"I know where to get hot chocolate!"
The boys jumped up and down squealing for directions, then Hugh called a servant and told her to take the boys to the kitchen. They watched them go with not a care in their world, their one aim in life to get a cup of cocoa.
"Boys!" Hugh said, laughing, "Juliette! You look lovely. How are you?" he bowed and kissed her hand.
"I am fine - now kiss your sweetheart while I find these children of mine!" Ever tactful, she hurried away.
"Your sister always knows the right thing to do," Hugh said huskily, "god, Monique, I can't stay away from you. You're driving me mad."
Then he kissed her passionately, crushing her lips against his. When she broke away his mouth traveled to her neck, then his hand found her breast and she heard herself moaning. By mutual consent, they went upstairs to his room and fell onto his big bed, then made love as if it were the last time ever. There was no finesse, no tenderness, but afterward, Monique still felt cherished and protected. She knew now with absolute certainty that she would have left Connor even if he had not told her to, even if she'd had to leave him at the altar because it was her destiny to be with Hugh.
* * *
"I think we'd better go before we're missed," she said reluctantly.
Hugh groaned.
"Do we have to?" he asked in a pained tone, "I would much rather stay here."
"So would I," she laughed, "but the boys will be wondering where you are. They love you already, Hugh."
"I love them too," he replied, "I hadn't realized how empty this big place was. It's going to be amazing to hear the sound of children's laughter again."
"Would you like to hang up some decorations tomorrow?" Hugh asked after dinner. The
boys cheered. They were standing in their nightshirts about to go to bed and they looked like little angels.
"They want to sleep in their new room but you must put them to bed, Uncle Hugh!" Juliette announced, laughing. She caught his hand as he stood up.
"Thank you for everything," she whispered, "I don't know what we would have done -"
"Relax, Juliette," he smiled and kissed her forehead, "I am the fortunate one. I got a new family and a new love for Christmas. I am indeed blessed!"
47
Logan's Story
Logan's apartments were, as Rosina had expected, rather Spartan. There were a few threadbare rugs on the floor, some small tables and a couple of armchairs with a couch facing the fireplace, which had not yet been laid. Logan called the kitchen maid to prepare it and light it while he drew back the faded curtains and released a storm of dust. They had obviously not been cleaned for years. The paintings on the wall were old, the canvases cracked and dirty. They too had been neglected, except for the one above the fireplace, which portrayed a dark man sitting on a great black horse. His features bore a striking similarity to Logan's the ony difference being that he had hazel eyes instead of Logan's brilliant blue ones.
"I have no need to ask who this is," Rosina remarked, "the likeness is very marked!"
"We were very alike," he said, smiling fondly, "except that he was a good man."
