Rose In Scotland

by Overfield Joan

  “Caroline!” Mairi gave a horrified cry, tossing her mending down and hurrying to Caroline’s side. “Dearest, what is wrong?”

  “Nothing,” Caroline denied, laughing unevenly and dabbing at her eyes. “It is only the mending that is making my eyes burn. The light in here is very poor.”

  “I’ll fetch another brace of candles for you,” Mairi promised, rising to her feet. “In the meanwhile, mind you rest your poor eyes. Auntie, keep watch on Caroline while I am gone, will you? Dinna let her work anymore.” And with that she turned and hurried from the room.

  “Aye,” Egidia said softly, her gaze sharp with speculation as she studied Caroline. “I’ll keep an eye on her, all right.”

  Chapter 15

  The letter from Edinburgh was waiting for Caroline when she came down to breakfast the following morning. The return address was that of the solicitor she’d engaged to help her find a house, and she quickly opened it, curious as to why he should write her after all these weeks. Curiosity turned to delight when she read that the house she and Mairi had toured that momentous day was still available. The developers were most anxious to sell, Mr. Penderson assured her, and she would need to give them her answer as quickly as possible. He then went on to quote a price that had her smiling, it was so low. She was still smiling when she walked into the morning room and found Mairi and Aunt Egidia already tucking into their food.

  “Good morning!” she said, giving both ladies an affectionate kiss before taking her seat. “How are you this fine morning?”

  Mairi’s gaze went to the window, where storm clouds were dulling the weak sunshine. “A fine morning, is it?” she said, her green eyes bright with laughter. “When we’ll have a Highland storm before lunch is served? It’s an odd sense of fine you must have, to be saying such things.”

  “Quit your blitherin’, you ill-mannered child, and let the poor girl have her porridge in peace!” Aunt Egidia snapped, bending a fierce scowl on Mairi. “How many times must I be telling you to mind that tongue of yours?”

  Mairi sent Caroline a saucy wink. “Times out of telling, Auntie,” she said serenely. “And you can see yourself the edifying effect it has had upon me.”

  Even Aunt Egidia had to laugh at that, giving the younger woman’s hand a teasing slap. “It’s a spinster you’re fated to be, Mairi MacColme, with that will of yours,” she said, shaking her head in resignation. “I can think of no man with either the patience or the courage to tame you.”

  “Then I am better off a spinster, aren’t I?” Mairi asked with an indifferent shrug, “And for your information, Auntie, I’d rather spend all my days alone than handfasted to some great bore of man who thinks to tame me to his hand.” She gave Caroline a conspiratorial grin.

  “I want a marriage like Caroline’s and Hugh’s. It’s openness and trust they have between them, and respect as well. I want that, and if I canna have it, I’ll have nothing at all.”

  Caroline’s smile faded, and she applied herself to her bowl of porridge with an enthusiasm she seldom showed for the thick, heavy cereal Aunt Egidia insisted be served each morning. Openness and respect, she thought unhappily. Was that really how Mairi saw her and Hugh’s marriage? If only it were so.

  “I have a letter from Mr. Penderson,” she said, hiding her troubling thoughts behind bright chatter. “Do you remember the house we looked at in Edinburgh, Mairi? The one on St. Andrew Square?”

  “Only the rich and the foreigners live on St. Andrew Square,” Aunt Egidia observed sourly, dipping her toast into her egg.

  “Aye, I remember it,” Mairi said, replying as if Aunt Egidia hadn’t spoken. “It was a grand place, with a large entryway and the prettiest rooms. You wanted to buy it, didn’t you?”

  “Very much so,” Caroline assured her, remembering her delight in the stunning house. “I even asked Mr. Penderson to have papers drawn up, but then—” She broke off, paling at the memory of all that had followed.

  “Is the house still available?” Mairi reached out to give Caroline’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “Is that why Mr. Penderson has written you?”

  In answer Caroline handed Mairi the letter. She read it quickly, her eyebrows climbing in surprise.

  “Four thousand pounds!” she exclaimed. “For a single house? That’s rather dear, isn’t it?”

  “I thought the price more than reasonable,” Caroline replied, surprised by her reaction. “In London, homes of this sort go for two and sometimes even three times that amount.”

  “That’s because in London there are fools willing to pay,” Aunt Egidia retorted, snatching the letter from Mairi and reading it as well. “Hmph! Presumptuous fellow, isn’t he? Offering to come to the castle to have the papers signed. It’s English he must be, to be so bold.”

  Although Caroline knew the old woman meant no ill, her words still stung. Was that how Hugh felt? she brooded. The Scots bore the English such enmity, and the more he was with his people, the more Scots Hugh became. Would he soon come to share their feelings? To regard her as no more than an interloper, an enemy who was never to be welcomed amongst them?

  “Caroline?” Mairi was studying her curiously. “Is everything all right? Did you not hear Auntie?”

  Caroline shook off her dark musings, and pinned a smile to her lips. “Yes, I heard her,” she said, pushing her bowl away from her, her appetite gone. “I was only thinking I would tell Mr. Penderson to bring the papers. I’ve decided to buy the house.”

  Mairi gave her her enthusiastic congratulations, offering several suggestions for colors and fabrics for the drapes and carpets Caroline would need. Aunt Egidia remained oddly silent, holding her tongue until after Mairi had dashed off in search of a cabinetmaker’s book she had in her room. An uneasy silence fell between the two ladies, and in her blunt way, Aunt Egidia was the first to break it.

  “I hope you took no offense by what I said, child,” she said, her faded eyes direct as she met Caroline’s gaze. “I meant no harm; upon that I give you my word.”

  Caroline believed her at once. “I know you didn’t, Aunt,” she said gently. “And I’m not hurt—”

  “Yes, you are,” Aunt Egidia interrupted, scowling. “And for that I am most heartily sorry. Hating the English is as natural to a Scot as drawing breath, and there are times I forget you are nae of the clans. Am I forgiven?”

  “Of course you are.”

  “Good.” Aunt Egidia gave a decisive nod. “Then you won’t mind my telling you you’re doing a foolish thing by buying this house without first consulting Hugh. He has his pride, you know, and it will chafe sorely at your making such a purchase without so much as a by-your-leave.”

  Caroline conceded the truth of that, but she was nonetheless adamant. She was fairly certain she was with child, and if so, she knew she could not return to England as she had originally planned. Even if she and Hugh divorced as intended, she couldn’t leave Scotland. She had grown to love it too much.

  “I will think about it,” she temporized, knowing Aunt Egidia would argue her into the ground if she refused outright. “Much as I want the house, I wouldn’t wish to upset Hugh.”

  Aunt Egidia gave her a suspicious scowl. “Then you mean to discuss this with him?” she asked.

  “Certainly,” Caroline assured her. “Why should I not?”

  “Mayhap because of the way you keep other matters from him,” Aunt Egidia said, eyeing Caroline knowingly. “ ’Tis none of my business, I am sure, but there are some secrets, lassie, that cannot be kept forever. Some cannot be kept beyond a few months.”

  The older woman’s remarks weighed heavily on Caroline’s mind as she strolled about the gardens later that morning. Hugh had left strict orders she was always to be accompanied when she left the house, but since she didn’t intend to leave the grounds, she saw no reason why she should wait until one of the men Hugh deemed a suitable escort could be found. And, she admitted with a flash of honesty, she was in no mood to obey her masterful husband.

  At first
she kept to the well-tended gardens, pausing occasionally to sniff a rose or listen to the sweet sound of a lark’s song. But as she worked through the puzzle of her marriage to Hugh, and what would happen when she told him of her suspicions, she forgot her innocent intentions. Instead of turning back when she reached the outer walls, she wandered through the gates and off into the Highlands, in search of answers to questions she yet possessed the courage to ask.

  By the time she realized her mistake she was a good mile from the castle, and it took her almost forty minutes to find her way back. She walked around to the back of the house, hoping to slip in unnoticed and thus escape a scolding should Aunt Egidia catch her. She had just reached the door leading into the library when it was suddenly flung open. Hugh stood there, his arms folded across his chest and a look of black fury glittering in his eyes.

  “You little minx!” he exclaimed, glowering down at her. “And just where the devil have you been?”

  Hugh glared down into Caroline’s face, torn between the desire to shake her and the equally strong desire to toss her over his shoulder and carry her up to their room and make love to her until they were both too spent to move. He’d lived a lifetime in the hour since Mairi had come to tell him that his gently reared wife was out traipsing across the Highlands without so much as a scullery maid to protect her, rather than being tucked safely in her room as he’d thought.

  He’d been about to set off after her when he’d glanced out the library window to see her scurrying up the walk. The sight, welcome as it was, had been all it had taken to set light to his temper, and now he was ready to do battle. If it was the last thing he accomplished, he vowed she would pay for the hell she had put him through this day.

  “Well?” he prodded, his impatience mounting as she maintained her mutinous silence. “I am waiting.”

  One of her blonde eyebrows arched in icy inquiry, and her blue eyes were glacial as she returned his angry stare. “Indeed, Mr. MacColme?” she said, using his family name in a way she hadn’t done since their first introduction. “And might one ask what it is you are waiting for?”

  Those prim words, spoken in that precise, condescending tone, made his mouth tighten, and he made a Herculean effort to rein in his mounting ire. “Don’t press me, wife,” he warned, his accent thickening with his emotions. “ ’Tis sore mad I am with you, and ‘twill take little to make me truly furious. I ask you again, where were you?”

  Her chin tilted up, and he was beginning to think he would have to do something truly drastic to prove his point when she capitulated with an impatient sigh.

  “I was out walking,” she said, her defiant manner daring him to object. “I went a little further than I meant to, and so was late in getting back. That is all.”

  Her audacity rendered him speechless, but only temporarily. “All?” he repeated, feeling the pulse pounding in his temples. “You can say ‘all’ to me when I’ve spent the past hour terrified your bastard of an uncle may have broken his word to us, and was even now carrying you back to Oxford? When I have been pacing the floor and thinking of you lying dead and brutalized in some filthy hole? All?” He shook his head in patent disbelief. “My God, woman, are you insane?”

  “No, I am not,” she retorted, not seeming in the slightest bit intimidated by his black fury. “Nor am I some weak-spirited miss to be scolded and shouted at as if I were no more than a disobedient child. I once told you I would not tolerate such high-handed behavior, and I meant it.”

  “And I told you I wasna the man for soft words and gentle ways,” he shot back, curling his hands into fists to keep them from grabbing her by the shoulders. “Don’t do this to me again, Caroline,” he warned, making one last, desperate effort at control, “or by heaven, I will give you cause to regret it.”

  There was another silence, and then she bowed her head with mocking deference. “Very well, laird,” she said, her voice cool as she met his gaze. “Now if you are done ringing a peal over my head, there is a matter I would like to discuss with you.”

  “What matter?” he asked warily, not caring for her reference to his title. It was the first time she had done so, and given the circumstances, he was fairly certain she didn’t do it out of any newfound sense of respect for him.

  “Mairi and I looked at a house the day I was kidnapped, and I should like to purchase it.”

  The forthright words made him scowl. “A house?” he asked, remembering his conversation with Lucien about Caroline’s money.

  “Near St. Andrew Square,” she said, the ice in her countenance melting as her enthusiasm grew more obvious. “It has only just been completed, and it is really quite lovely. There are several bedrooms, and I thought perhaps Mairi might stay—”

  “No.”

  His blunt interruption made her pause. “I beg your pardon?” she asked, her eyes narrowing as she studied him.

  He didn’t pretend to be deceived by her brittle civility. In the weeks since their wedding he had come to know Caroline well, and ’twas plain to him his usually good-natured bride was spoiling for a brawl. Unfortunately for them both, he was just of a mind to oblige her. He squared his shoulders, crossing his arms in a deliberately antagonistic stance as he met her gaze.

  “I said no.”

  Her chin tilted up another notch. “No, you do not wish Mairi to stay with us, or no, you do not wish to purchase a home?”

  “No, I do not wish to purchase a home,” he returned, making no effort to soften his tone. “We shall stay with Aunt Egidia when we are not at Loch Haven, and a new house would be a foolish waste of money. I will not allow it.”

  Caroline’s head jerked back as if he’d struck her. A raw hurt showed in her eyes, and then she was drawing herself upright again. “I see,” she said, her voice taking on a note he’d never heard. “And if I decide the money is mine to waste, what then?”

  Hugh hesitated, not certain how to proceed. He and Caroline seldom quarreled, and when they did it had always been like a summer storm—loud and violent while it lasted, but soon over, and with no harm done to anyone. But this was like a blizzard in the Highlands, all the more deadly for the cold and the ice of it. Suddenly he no longer wished to continue but he knew he could not withdraw. The battle was joined, and now there was only victory or defeat.

  “Then the answer remains the same,” he said, unconsciously softening both his stance and his voice. “I have duties which hold me here, and I will not let you go alone to Edinburgh. Your uncle is still too great a danger to my way of thinking, and I’ve no wish to let you out of my sight. You are my wife, Caroline; you must allow me to do what I see as right.”

  Tears glittered in her eyes, but she did not allow them to fall. “And if I disagree?”

  “Then you will still do as I say,” he said, the feeling he was fighting an enemy he couldn’t see growing stronger. “Your grandfather charged me with your care, and I’ve no intention of failing him. I owe him too much to go back on my end of the bargain. I am a man of my word.”

  The glitter in her eyes grew more pronounced as she gave a bitter laugh. “Ah, yes, your bargain with Grandfather—how could I have forgotten? You must be very grateful for his help in regaining your castle and lands.”

  “Aye, that I am. He was of immeasurable help,” Hugh agreed, his frown deepening. His pride would have preferred she not know he’d come to her all but a pauper, but in the end he didn’t see that it mattered. Surely she must have known he had some reason for marrying her other than the money she had once offered. He studied her too-calm expression with mounting worry.

  “Caroline,” he began, reaching tentatively for her. “What ails you? Why are you behaving like this? We have always had the truth between us; you knew I never married you for love. You didn’t marry me for it, either, if it comes to that. Why should it matter so much to you now?”

  She stepped away from him, her spine so straight he wondered it didn’t snap. “You mistake me, sir,” she informed him coldly. “It matters not at all.
If we are quite finished, I should like to retire to my room. With your permission, of course,” she added, her lips twisting in a parody of her usual warm smile.

  Hugh could think of nothing to say, too heart-sore to argue any longer. He merely nodded, his eyes brooding as he watched her walk out of the room. Even after she was gone he remained where he was, his heart and mind conducting a war that threatened to tear him apart. He’d just decided to go up to their room and demand an explanation for her odd behavior when there was a rap on the door.

  “Come in,” he called out, hoping whoever it was would not keep him overly long. If not, he had no compunction about hurrying them on their way.

  Mairi stormed in, her eyes narrowed with fury as she advanced on him with a purposeful stride.

  “To the devil with you, Hugh MacColme!” she said, shaking her finger at him in a fair imitation of Aunt Egidia at her worst. “You have been quarreling with Caroline, haven’t you?”

  Hugh thought of the bitter words that had passed between him and Caroline, and gave a harsh laugh. “Aye,” he said, walking back to stand before the fireplace. “We quarreled.”

  “And you scolded and shouted at her like Father used to rage at you,” Mairi said with a sister’s unerring perception. “No wonder she stalked out of here with tears in her eyes! Shame on you, you beast, to be so cruel to your wife!”

  “Me?” Hugh’s masculine outrage rose at the unfairness of the accusation. “What of her? She did her own raging and scolding, I can tell you!” Then he frowned. “Caroline was crying?”

  Mairi sighed, raising her eyes heavenward in a plea for guidance. “On the inside,” she told him gruffly. “Where the tears are the deepest. What did you argue over? The house?”

  Hugh studied her through narrowed eyes. He supposed he could refuse to answer, or he could order Mairi from the room, but he did neither. Oddly, he found he wanted to talk, and who better to listen to him than his own belligerent sister?