by Fiona Faris
Georgiana smiled, running a hand down his cheek. “You’re sweet. Ask her – what did you say her name was? – to be here tomorrow morning for her interview.”
Ethan sighed, knowing full well he had been overruled. For a minute, he worried about Georgiana turning out to be as cruel and dismissive to her help as his stepmother was but quickly dismissed the thought as he watched her spoon her porritch. She was his wife, and he loved her.
Nevertheless, he made a note to stick around for this ‘interview’.
* * *
Mrs. Campbell broke down in tears when she caught sight of him walking towards her.
“They said ye went to the New World. Did ye come back?”
“Nay. I dinna go. Got marrit instead,” he declared proudly.
“Marrit?” Mrs. Campbell repeated with a frown, “Tae, who?”
Ethan shrugged. “I went down to England an’ stole Lachie’s bride.”
Mrs. Campbell blanched. “Ye marrit a Sassenach?”
“Aye.” Ethan said softly, “And she needs help wi’ the running o’ th’ hoose. I told her I’d ask ye if ye can do it.”
Mrs. Campbell continued to frown at him. “A Sassenach? How strange. Where are ye living?”
“At the auld English barracks.”
“Oh, aye? Eastcairn Fort ye mean?”
“Aye.”
“Mmm.” Mrs. Campbell looked thoughtful. “But…how did ye afford it?”
“I told ye, I stole Lachie’s bride.”
“Ooh, ye mean the duke’s daughter? Does Lachie ken?”
“Not yet, I dinna think…I dinna ken.”
“Himself and Lachie went off for th’ weddin. I expect they must have heard the bride’s no there the noo.”
“Aye, likely.”
“And ye’re not worrit?”
Ethan shrugged. “Tis already done.”
“Ye’re brathair is no likely to take it well. Ye better watch yer back, lest he stab ye.”
His expression darkened. “I ken that, Mrs. Campbell.”
“And this…lady, she kens ye’re no her betrothed?”
“Aye. She helped me.”
“Mmm,” Mrs. Campbell’s eyebrows rose dramtically “Aye weel, I shall come then. Tomorra ye say?”
“Aye.”
* * *
Georgiana was a bit nervous. She had never interviewed a servant for a job before. She wanted to do a good job of it; make a good impression. At the same time, she wanted to establish that she was in charge and would not be bossed about, and she could hardly sit still as she waited for Mrs. Campbell to arrive.
Ethan was around somewhere close by. He had offered to sit in with her, but she did not want that. She did not want these people to think she could not manage without her husband at her side. Despite what had almost happened at the inn, she was determined to show that she had more than an ounce of steel in her.
Mrs. Campbell came in without knocking, and Georgiana took a deep breath, frowning in annoyance. The lady came up to her and simply stood, without curtsying or giving her any greeting.
“Mrs. Campbell,” Georgiana said at last, “I am the lady of the house, and I am pleased to make your acquaintance.”
“Oh, aye? Weel, that’s good then.” She looked around, “Have a lot of cleanin tae dae seems like. Shall I bring ye some lassies from the village.”
“Um,” Georgiana floundered, feeling as if she’d lost the upper hand already. “Uh, yes, you could bring some cleaning ladies. Misty is doing her best, but she is just one person.”
“Misty? Who that be?”
“My lady’s maid.”
“Oh, aye.” Mrs. Campbell looked distinctly unimpressed. “Weel, I shall be going now. Where’s the kitchen? I havena been here before.”
Georgiana stared at her, astounded at her words. She had not even retained the woman, and here she was making assumptions! “Uh, I am not ready for you to start yet. I still mean to conduct a few more interviews.”
“Interviews?” Mrs. Campbell snorted. “Good luck to ye then. I shall be going.”
Georgiana watched her walk to the door, torn between her need to take control and not wanting to displease Ethan. He clearly esteemed this woman, and Georgiana did not wish for her to drive a wedge between them. But she did not like Mrs. Campbell’s attitude one bit.
“Mrs. Campbell,” she called just as the other woman was reaching for the doorknob, “Perhaps you can start tomorrow?”
There was a short silence in which Mrs. Campbell did not so much as turn to face her. “Aye.” She added at last before opening the door and leaving. Georgiana heaved a deep breath before flopping down on the settee and covering her face with her hands. She had a feeling she had not handled that at all well.
* * *
Ethan hung around the courtyard, pretending to be waiting for the horses that Mr. Grahame had purchased from Lord Fraser and which were to be delivered that morning. He watched as Mrs. Campbell stomped out of the house, her face closed. Heaving a sigh, he ran to catch up with her.
“Weel? Are ye leaving already?”
“Aye. Yer wife wishes me to start tomorra.”
“Oh, aye? But why?”
“I expect she wants tae conduct more interviews.”
Ethan frowned. “What d’ye mean by that?”
“Just wha’ I said.”
Ethan stopped trotting after the woman. For an old lady, she had quite a long stride. “I’m sure ye heard wrong, Mrs. Campbell. I shall sort it out aye? See ye bright and early.”
“Aye. Ye shall see me, dinna fash. Yer wife is young. She’ll learn. Give her time.”
Ethan watched her go then he turned and strode back to the house. He and Georgiana needed to talk.
* * *
Georgiana looked up as she heard the door to the parlor open and then close. Her husband stood against the doorway, leaning back against it, regarding her with what was unmistakably annoyance.
“Georgiana.”
“Yes Ethan?”
He took a step away from the door and then another, eventually lowering himself onto the settee beside her. “How did yer talk wi’ Mrs. Campbell go?”
She shrugged. “I told her that I had several other interviews to conduct.”
“But…ye dinna.”
“How do you know that? Did you ask me?”
He just stared at her, green eyes puzzled. “Why would ye interview anyone else. We already have Mrs. Campbell.”
“Because this is my house. I have to run it my way. She hadn’t been here for two minutes and was already telling me what to do.” Georgiana knew she was too defensive, but she could not help herself. Ethan was making her feel like a villain.
“This is yer hoose? I thought it was our hoose.”
“Oh, you know what I mean!” Georgiana waved her hands about irritably.
“Do I? I dinna ken. I told ye that Mrs. Campbell is guid. Do ye no trust me?”
“Of course, I trust you. But you have to let me do this my way.”
In truth, Georgiana had already decided to give Mrs. Campbell the job, but now that Ethan confronted her on it, she felt the need to defend her decisions.
“Yer way? Wha’ does that e’en mean?”
“It means that it’s my kitchen, and I decide who gets to work in it.”
“Fine.” Ethan got to his feet, lifting his hands in surrender, “Dinna let me stop ye.”
He walked out, every step vibrating with anger. As soon as he slammed the door behind him, Georgiana collapsed back onto the settee, tears streaming down her face.
This marriage thing is a lot harder than it looks.
* * *
Ethan was feeling miserable as he stomped around the pigpen, not really doing much but feeling that this was a better use of his time than sitting around and brooding. It wasn’t so much that he and Georgiana had…had words. No, it was that they had so little understanding of what was important to the other. Mrs. Campbell had helped raise him, had fed him after
his mother died, looked out for him. For Georgiana to treat her like just another servant was unacceptable.
How dare she?
Ethan wondered if they could even sustain a marriage when they were so fundamentally different. He looked up to see her coming toward him. She was striding very determinedly, and Ethan’s heart dropped. Had she come to the same conclusion as he had?
She came to a stop on the other side of the pigpen and looked bleakly at him. Her chest was heaving, and her eyes were red. It was evident that she had been crying. His heart twisted with pain to see it.
“Forgive me. I shouldna have come between ye and yer kitchen,” he said at once.
She shook her head, brushing a tear off her cheek. “It’s alright. It’s your kitchen too.” She smiled and sniffed, “If you trust this woman, I trust her too.”
Ethan sighed, circling the pigpen to go to her side. “I want ye to choose the housekeeper yer comfortable wi’.”
Georgiana sniffed. “I want Mrs. Campbell.”
“Are ye sure?”
She nodded, still sniffing and wiping at her eyes. “Aw richt, if ye’re sure then ye’ll tell her yersel’.”
“I will.”
Ethan reached out and drew her close. “I dinna mean to hurt yer feelings.”
“And I did not mean to be so rigid.”
“I suppose we’re both learning our way.”
“Yes.” She turned her watery smile onto him, and he reached in to kiss the tears from her face.
“Do ye want to retire to our room and freshen up.”
She met his eyes, smiling shyly before shaking her head. “You’re impossible, Ethan.”
“I don’t hear ye saying no.” he grinned at her, full and happy.
“I guess I’m impossible too.” She let him take her hand and lead her into their home, stepping after him as he propelled her up the stairs. He was kissing her even before the door was closed.
“Ah’m truly sorry for hurting ye,” he murmured into her skin.
“I forgive you. And I’m sorry for dismissing your wishes.”
“I forgive ye.”
They grinned at each other.
“Did we just have our first fight?” she asked.
“I believe so. Which means we must now re-consummate our marriage.”
“Oh, is that a fact?”
“It is so.”
Ethan leaned in, kissing her smiling mouth as he slowly unhooked her gown. She pulled his shirt out of his breeches, and they separated briefly so he could pull it over his head. He wasted no time in discarding his breeches, and they were soon falling onto the bed as he spread her legs and thrust his hand inside.
“I want ye so much,” he murmured as his hand landed on her breast and squeezed.
“I want you too.” She wrapped her legs about his waist and pulled him close. He slid inside her, thinking there could never be anything that compared to this. They rocked together slowly, taking their time, as her moans grew louder and more incoherent. He was determined that she would find release first.
Ethan wrapped a forearm around her waist, alternating between helping her move and keeping her still as he ground his hips up into her. Biting her ear, he suckled her neck right down to the shoulder, while moaning into her soft skin and savoring the flex of muscle with each wriggle and pant.
His mouth went slack as she pressed back against his chest as she tensed and climaxed. He buried his nose into silken chestnut locks and breathed her in, following close by.
He paused to note how quick she was still breathing, her heaving chest, the little shivers and echoing twitches that shook her frame in non-sequential intervals. The little things that he’d remember and carve deep into his memory.
He clasped her waist with both hands, letting her keep her limbs languishing in bliss. Earning a soft moan, he slowly rocked them and set to take his time, kissing whatever he could reach.
Chapter Seventeen
After that rocky start, things seemed to smooth out somewhat. Mrs. Campbell brought help from the village, and they were able to convert the fortress from a dusty relic into a comfortable home in no time. Georgiana was grateful for the support and tried her best to befriend Mrs. Campbell who reciprocated with monosyllabic grunts for a time before softening a little and giving her one-word answers.
“I fear I have ruined it with the housekeeper forever,” she sighed as she prepared for bed one night.
“Why d’ye say tha’?” Ethan was at best absentminded as he went over the household accounts. From the stories Mrs. Campbell had told him, the village of Daltern was doing much worse than he had imagined. He had the idea to convert the west field of the property to wheat. It was right next to the tarn, which meant they had access to water all year round. The soil was excellent, and he could spread manure from the cows and pigs around to make the land even richer.
Eastcairn had its own brewery for ale; he could offer them a partnership, a chance for expansion. He could provide the raw materials, and they would do the brewing, and whatever they could not sell locally, Fergus could get on a ship to England. He had assured Ethan that Londoners had a taste for Scottish ale. It was a chance to create jobs for a lot of people and make them self-sustaining, so they were not reliant on Georgiana’s dowry.
He was not really paying attention to what Georgiana was saying.
“I just think that she has the wrong impression of me. My mother taught me to run a household in a certain way. Of course, now that I’ve been here a while, I see that it doesn’t really translate well here. You all are much less formal than the English with your servants. I can see that Mrs. Campbell is more like a beloved aunt than a housekeeper to you. I do. But I am your wife, so I do deserve some respect.”
“O’ course ye do,” Ethan added absently as he turned the page. They were doing alright as far as provision of food for the household was concerned. He thought that Mrs. Campbell should move in, for she was too old for all the travel, and if she continued to stay at Daltern, she was risking censure when his brother and father finally returned.
On that thought, he began to go over the defenses in the fort.
I should get some men to guard the gates. At least until I have spoken to the laird and come to some understanding.
“Are you listening to me?”
He jumped, looking up to see his wife glaring at him. He grinned apologetically.
“Forgive me, I have a lot on my mind. What did ye say?”
She humphed, turning away angrily. “Nothing important, apparently.”
Ethan hesitated, not knowing if he should apologize again, insist that she tell him what the matter was, or simply agree with her and go back to puzzling out how to best protect them all. He apparently hesitated for too long, for she flung down the hairbrush she was using and flounced out of the room.
Ethan sighed.
This marriage thing is harder than I thought.
* * *
Georgiana was feeling very alone in this foreign land. Everything was different than what she was used to… from the food they ate to the way everyone spoke. Worse than that, now that they were home, Ethan seemed distant, more concerned with ‘his’ people than he was with her. It looked like he had married her merely for what her dowry could bring him.
Loneliness assailed her, and she swallowed down the lump in her throat, determined not to cry.
I cannot even go home, she thought with despair. One scandal was bad enough, but two? Impossible.
“Georgiana?”
She jumped, startled to hear his voice when she hadn’t heard him approach. He could move very silently when he chose. It made her heart leap every time, and not just because she was in love with him. She had become extremely wary of people sneaking up on her since The Incident. She had tried to speak to Ethan about it, but he tended to receive it as a criticism of him – that she was blaming him for failing to protect her. She knew that it was guilt that made him react that way, but she could not reassure him when she
still had her own emotions to contend with.
She sometimes just wanted to break down in hysterics, but she was too afraid of what these Scots might do to her as a result. She was already having a hard time earning their respect and did not want to cement the view that she was a delicate little Sassenach with barely a brain in her head.
