by Alisa Adams
He left out the obvious conclusion 'and I am not.' Rosina ignored it.
"And your mother?"
"Died in childbirth, like so many other women." His voice was not sad or bitter. After all, he had never known her.
"I'm sorry," she said sympathetically.
Rosina walked around the room, thinking how beautiful it could be if someone just took care of it. How she would love to hang beautiful curtains and have some new floral and landscape paintings commissioned. The room was bare of ornaments and it would have given her great pleasure to choose some. When the fire had been glowing for a while she sat down on one of the chairs.
* * *
Logan had ordered some tea and scones, and after he had poured them each a cup, he looked into the fire for a while before speaking.
"I have never told a single soul what I am about to tell you, Rosie," he took a sip of his tea, put the cup down, and turned to her. "If you want to go I will understand, but please let me finish first."
She nodded.
"Of course Logan," she said, "Go on."
"Thank you. This is very difficult," he began, "as you see, I cannot control myself around liquor, which is why I do not drink it. I am ashamed of this weakness of mine, but there is a reason for it," he paused again, gathering his thoughts.
"After the night when I made such a fool of myself, it took me a while to recover my senses. The craving comes back, you see. Once I get a taste of it, it becomes very hard to say no again, and I want you to understand that. It was my fault, to begin with, and now I am paying for it," he had another sip of his tea then went on: "when - when I was but sixteen years old, I had a love affair with an older woman - well, not old exactly. She was twenty-six. She seduced me, but I was ready to be seduced at that age!"
* * *
He gave a dry, humorless laugh, "we had a long relationship - over a year, and what had started as a bit of fun became true love, at least for me. I was young and vigorous - she loved my energy and stamina - and I thought that she felt the same way I did. I told her one day that I loved her, and that was when she told me she was married. Her husband was away a lot - he was a merchant - and she was lonely. He suffered from melancholia too, and she said that sometimes he paid no attention to her for weeks at a time. At seventeen I didn't care. I wanted her every day I could have her - she became an obsession."
He rubbed his eyes and she could see that there were tears leaking from between his fingers. She felt desperately sorry for him - this was a man in agony.
"One night - strangely enough, the first time the first time I ever tasted whiskey - we were in bed together, and her husband came in," he shook his head and gave a great sigh, "I will never forget the look on his face. I thought he would be angry, but instead he looked pitifully sad," he put his head in his hands, "Rosina - I can't do this," he whispered.
* * *
She knelt down in front of him and took his hands from his face then held them gently in hers. They were freezing.
"Go on, I'm listening," she gave him a small smile of encouragement.
"He said: 'Oh, my darlin', you have broken my heart.' Then before either of us could stop him he shot himself in the stomach. There was so much blood!" He emptied his tea cup and took a deep breath.
"She recovered her wits quickly," he went on, "she did not want him to be buried in an unconsecrated grave so she made it look as if an intruder broke in and he was murdered. She told me to run, and I did. I went back to the castle and my father packed me off down to the Lowlands to be trained to run the estate down there. For a few weeks, I was insensible with drink."
* * *
He stopped again and she waited, wiping tears from his face with her handkerchief.
"I couldn't forget the look on his face, the words he said," he shook his head, "and all that blood. I had to numb the pain."
"And your lover?" Rosina asked.
"Loretta?" He squeezed his eyes shut as if to shut out some dreadful sight, "I never saw her again, and I have not lain with another woman since" he looked at her with the ghost of a smile and resumed his story.
* * *
"After a while, I made the hardest decision of my life," he said grimly, "one night I fell off my horse and injured my leg very badly - I was lucky not to bleed to death. I ordered every alcoholic drink out of the castle and had every room searched to make sure it was all gone. I had just employed Malcolm then, and he was a pillar of strength, although he will deny it. I stopped drinking, and except for that one disaster a few days ago when I disgraced myself, I have not touched a drop since. After I was sober I was willing enough and sensible enough to learn to supervise the management of the estate. So when you and Alasdair - it brought back such a lot of torment."
* * *
"But why did you never marry?" Rosina asked, puzzled, "you did not kill that man!"
"I didn't shoot him, Rosie, but I might as well have," he said bitterly, "I was the cause of his death. Not a day goes by when I don't think about him," he slapped his fist into his palm with anger, "and Loretta. They might have had children, a long happy life together -"
"And they might not!" she cried desperately, "Logan, you said he had melancholia. I don't know too much about that but I have heard that people suffering from it sometimes harm themselves. We do not know what the future may have held for them. Stop blaming yourself for being young and stupid - we were all the same at that age."
He looked up at her, and for the first time since she had known him, she saw hope in his eyes.
* * *
"Do you really think so? You do not think me a monster?" he asked hoarsely. "Rosina, I am a drunk, I am almost incapable of making friends and belonging in normal society. I cannot talk to anyone - except you. I have heard the servants say I am handsome, but that's because they do not know me well."
"Because you will not let them!" She cupped his face in her hands and kissed him hard on the mouth, "You have built an impregnable fortress around yourself, Logan. Nobody can get past your hostility!"
"You did," he said softly, looking deeply into her eyes.
"But I did warn you that I am the most stubborn woman ever born," she laughed, "brick walls do not withstand me."
"You were born for me," his face was full of wonder, "I have just realized it - you are the only one who can heal me, Rosie."
"I know," she whispered, kissing him tenderly. When she drew back, he stood up and pulled her with him then looked down into her eyes for a moment, before kissing her hungrily, pulling her against him and holding her with one hand on her head and the other on her back. For the first time in a long, long while Logan Fraser was truly happy.
"Marry me, Rosina," he whispered into her hair. She giggled.
"I thought you'd never ask," she breathed, "I thought I might end up being a lonely old maid pining away forever among the cobwebs! Logan, you silly man, of course, I will!"
* * *
He wrapped his arms around her and lifted her off her feet while she squealed with laughter, and that was how Maisie and Findlay found them as the came walking along the passage toward them. Rosina kissed Logan one last time then saw them.
"Maisie!" she cried, "get your needles and scissors! You are making me a wedding dress!"
48
Loretta
Logan was so happy he couldn’t stop smiling. Maisie clapped her hands and smiled joyfully.
"Mistress - Laird, I am so happy for you!"
Rosina pulled her into a sisterly embrace and whispered:
* * *
"Will you be sewing one for yourself too?"
"Maybe!" Maisie whispered back. Rosina looked at her, happily surprised.
"What are you two whispering about?" Logan asked suspiciously.
"Girl talk, Logan," Rosina answered, "trust me - you will not be interested!"
Logan said nothing but smiled indulgently. Maisie put her hands to her cheeks and gasped.
* * *
"My Laird!" she said
in astonishment, "I don't think I have ever seen you smile like that before!"
Logan threw back his head and laughed.
"Blame Rosie!" he said, hugging her to him and kissing her, "she has ordered me to smile at least twenty times a day!"
"Milady," Findlay said, bowing and kissing her hand, "my congratulations. Is it too early to ask if you have a date set?"
"We have some business to take care of in Dumbarton first, then we will," Logan said matter-of-factly. Rosina's spirits plummeted. She had forgotten about all that, and for a moment, she felt herself beginning to go back to the dark night of her marriage. Whatever had happened was still plaguing her and Logan, but she would not let it spoil her happiness. That was tomorrow's problem, but now she had Logan all to herself and she knew they would stand by each other forever.
* * *
"Now Findlay, Maisie," Rosina said happily, "shall we toast to our marriage in coffee?"
"Mistress!" Maisie said rapturously, "did you bring some with you?"
"I did," Rosina replied, "I was keeping it for a special occasion. I think this is special enough, don't you?"
Downstairs they ordered some of the precious brew and waited to see Findlay's reaction. he took a tentative sip and savored it on his tongue then opened his one eye wide as it went down his throat. It was black, bitter and piping hot but he closed his eye in fervent appreciation.
"That is magnificent!" he said in astonishment, "I have never tasted anything like it!"
"No milk?" Maisie asked doubtfully, "it's very strong."
"I like it this way," he said firmly, "I am not going to spoil it." He swallowed the rest in short order and asked for more.
Findlay laughed, then he put his hand over Maisie's on the table. She smiled shyly at him, then they looked at Logan and Rosina. Logan looked flabbergasted, but Rosina merely raised her eyebrows and gave him a sly sideways look.
"You two -" he asked, frowning, "you didn't say anything, Findlay."
"I don't discuss such matters with the Laird," Findlay replied, grinning.
"But you knew," Logan looked at Rosina, "did Maisie tell you?"
"No," Rosina laughed, "we're women. We understand each other."
Logan was puzzled, then he shrugged.
"So, are you getting wed too?" Logan asked. He was like a bull in a china shop, Rosina thought pityingly. Maisie shook her head and looked at Findlay, then back at Logan.
* * *
"No, my Laird," she said, "we are just getting to know each other. There is plenty of time for that, and we live many miles apart."
"I will never understand women," Logan sighed.
The next few days were magical, and Rosina saw a side of Logan that she had never seen before. The children of the staff members played in the courtyard between the castle walls and the castle itself, and Logan loved to play with them. They built snowmen together and sometimes he read to them. At other times he could be found throwing and kicking a ball, or giving them rides on his shoulders, but they loved it when he told them stories about the legendary monster who lived in Loch Ness. Rosina was enchanted, both by his love of children and by their love of him. He was going to be an excellent father, she thought, and she looked forward to the day when she would give birth to their first child. How perfect their love was!
Logan also loved to play chess. He and Rosina were of equal ability but the games were played in such a light-hearted spirit that nobody cared who won. There were nights spent lying in each others' arms in front of the fire in Logan's parlor, talking dreamily, dozing occasionally and kissing a lot.
* * *
But all too soon it had to end and it was time to pack up and go back to Fort William.
Rosie was concerned about Maisie, who was putting a brave face on things but was obviously reluctant to go. Rosina found her one day gazing out of the window thoughtfully when she should have been working.
* * *
"Are you all right, Maisie?" Rosina asked gently. Maisie jumped and turned around. There were tears running down her cheeks and dripping off her chin, and her face was a picture of misery.
"Oh, Maisie!" Rosina ran forward to embrace her and Maisie's tears soaked into the fine linen of her dress.
* * *
"Do you want to stay here?" Rosina asked.
Maisie shook her head firmly.
"I could never leave you, Mistress, though I confess I will miss Findlay a great deal. We have talked a lot and we have much in common."
"Could you fall in love with him?" Rosina asked gently.
"I do not know him well enough yet," Maisie answered, "and I do not believe in love at first sight."
"And I think you are lying to yourself," Rosina said dryly. She took her by the shoulders and looked directly into her eyes.
"Tell me you do not love him," she said firmly.
"My place is with you, Mistress," Maisie said firmly, "and I am just feeling sorry for myself."
Rosina shook her head and cast her eyes heavenward. She sat Maisie down on the bed and took her hands in her own.
"Maisie, I love you," she said, firmly, "and that is why I will never sacrifice your happiness for my own. If you would like to stay here and continue your acquaintance with Findlay, then I give you my blessing, not that you need it. I will ask Logan if he can find a place for you in the household and if you do not like it you can come back to me."
"But who will look after you?" Maisie asked anxiously.
Rosina sighed.
"Maisie, I am a grown woman. I can look after myself!" she laughed, but Maisie still looked troubled.
"My sister Una needs a place," she said in a troubled voice, "but she is young and a bit wild."
"Sleep on it," Rosina kissed her forehead, "and give me your answer tomorrow."
Maisie nodded, smiling sadly. She had never, ever thought of a situation that would make her leave her beloved Rosina till she met Findlay. But what if things did not work out between them? She knew that they liked each other very much, but was that love? She would sleep on it, as Rosina had said.
Logan had decided to go and visit an old friend of his father's before they went away, but Rosina had wanted to spend as much time with Maisie as she could since her companion still had not made up her mind what she wanted to do. Anyway, she reasoned, men's talk was all about hunting, the price of livestock and fishing, so Logan went on his own. When he saw the marketplace he decided to see if he could find a little Christmas present for Rosina. He was looking at a couple of hand-made fur muffs and decided that he liked a fox fur one. He paid for it and began to walk between the other stalls when he saw Loretta.
* * *
She was looking directly at him, and in her hazel eyes was a look of what - panic? Yes. Sheer blind terror. He began to walk toward her but she backed away, and he stopped, thinking better of it. Obviously, she did not want to be reminded of their horrific experience either. He gave her an imperceptible nod of understanding, then another figure joined her, a boy of about ten with shining, pitch-black hair. When he saw the direction of his mother's frozen gaze his own followed it, and the eyes looking into Logan's were a brilliant sky blue. Logan stared at him for a moment, taking in every single feature of his son's face. He had the same nose, the same full mouth, and the same high cheekbones as his own. Indeed, there was very little of his mother at all except for her wavy hair and long-fingered, graceful hands. She turned away quickly and the boy went with her, then they were joined by a tall fair man and a little girl of about six with light reddish hair the same color as Rosina's. The boy seemed not to have
noticed anything amiss, but then he was still very young. Loretta took one frightened glance backward before hurrying away.
49
Maisie's Decision
Logan sat down on a wooden bench because his legs would not hold him up anymore. He had a son. The likeness between him and the boy was so marked as to be astonishing. He forgot about his father's friend and rode home in a daze. When he got t
o the castle he looked all over for Rosina only to be told that she had gone for a ride with Maisie.
* * *
He could not describe how he felt - pride that he had such a beautiful son, regret that he could not see him, sadness that he had missed his childhood, and anger that Loretta had never told him about the boy. But how could she? He had been a wild teenager with no sense of responsibility and even less knowledge of the world. She wondered what she had told him about his father. Probably that his father had died before he was born - that would have been why she hadn't wanted him to see the boy. Her face had been white with fear. It was a few moments before he realized that he was trembling, and his hands were freezing, as they usually were when he became upset or frightened.
He knew that there were decanters of whiskey in the dining room but he would not seek solace there. He could not even remember the things that had happened to him during the unfortunate night of his last escapade!
Just then, he heard Rosina and Maisie in the corridor outside, laughing at something Rosie had said.
"Rosina!" he called. He had no wish to get up and let Maisie see him in such a state, or for her to hear the secret he wanted to tell Rosina alone.
"Logan!" she called back gaily, "what is it? I'm just going for a bath."
"Come in, please, alone."
Rosina and Maisie looked at each other, then Rosina went in to speak to her fiancé. She took one look at him and sat down beside him, frowning.
* * *
