Treasures of the Wind (The McDougalls Book 3)

by Audrey Adair

  “Is there anything I can do for you, Becca?” He had known her since she was a girl and still called her by the childhood name which her father felt she was too old for, though she didn’t mind it. She bestowed a warm smile upon Sullivan, relaying the gratefulness she felt for him. He had always filled a role her father had refused to play.

  “No, thank you, Sullivan,” she said. “My father is the only one that can answer my question, unfortunately. Tell me, how do you fare today?”

  “Just fine,” he said. “Demand for electricity is growing, though competitors keep rising up. Your father continues to try to coax the neighborhood businesses off their isolated systems, and it’s slowly coming.”

  Rebecca nodded. Her father and Sullivan had begun one of the first power systems just two years prior. Many had thought them slightly mad for proposing such an idea, but as more homes continued to add electric lighting, the demand for a power supply continued to grow. Sullivan had always been something of an inventor, while her father was a businessman who knew how to turn on the charm for those he felt required it. She only wished he would consider her with anything close to the same respect he did for those he did business with. Rather, he ignored her, unless it was to tell her what he wanted to eat for dinner.

  Sullivan Andrews had long been her father’s closest friend and business partner in his latest enterprises. They made good partners. He was creative and intelligent though somewhat absent-minded, where her father was practical and calculating.

  While her father brushed off any questions regarding his work, Sullivan appreciated the interest Rebecca took in business endeavors and fed her fascination for the way things worked.

  “Tell me, Sullivan, why is it again that the hotels and factories prefer their own power generation?” she asked.

  “The exhaust steam from the generation can be used for building and industrial process heat,” he replied. “It’s less expensive, although whether that will remain the case is hard to say. The more power plants that open, the cheaper electricity may become.”

  “And—” The question on her tongue was interrupted when the door to her father’s office opened and the booming voice of Hardwick Trenton rang out.

  “Rebecca!” he practically shouted. “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to speak with you, Father,” she said. “You told me to wait for you until you were free. Do you not recall?”

  “I — of course I do,” he muttered, waving a hand. “I am busy, Rebecca, you know that. Come in now, then, what is it you wish to speak with me about?”

  She entered his office, the navy blue of her satin skirts trailing behind her. She loved the workings of her father’s machinery, yes, but she also equally loved dressing in the latest styles of the day. She appreciated the complexity of current fashions. While she loved the frillery, the high bustles and the length of material trailing behind her in a beautiful evening gown, she also enjoyed the smart, tailored dresses she wore in her daily life. Today, for example, her dress was elegant, with just a slight bustle to provide some shaping in the back.

  “Father,” she said, walking past him as he held the door open for her. “Mrs. Graham told me that you are leaving for Scotland in the morning.”

  “I am,” he said, skirting around the outside of the desk and taking a seat in his mahogany captain’s desk chair. “We shall be taking a hunting trip. Not to worry, Sullivan will stay here to oversee the plant.”

  She sat primly on the edge of the guest seat in front of his matching mahogany desk, holding her velvet chatelaine bag in her lap. “I should like to go with you,” she said, noting the look of astonishment that crossed his face.

  “Go with me — hunting? In Scotland?” he gave out a bark of laughter. “I should think not. Whatever gave you such an idea?”

  “It is just that, I have heard how very beautiful Scotland is,” she said, “and I have never been out of England before. I do not have to hunt with you, of course, but I would very much like to come and see the countryside.”

  “You have seen the English countryside,” he said. “It is not altogether that different.”

  “There are no mountains in England,” she responded, leaning forward and looking him directly in his eyes, so very much like the crystal blue of her own.

  “There are not,” he agreed resolutely. “Which makes England safer and more easily accessible. I see no reason why you should accompany us.”

  “Who are you going with?”

  “The usual men I hunt with,” he said with a shrug. “And Vincent is coming along.”

  “Vincent?” Rebecca repeated, raising her eyebrows. “My, but the two of you are becoming close.”

  “The lad has done well,” her father responded. “In fact, I would very much like him to take over the company one day.”

  “You want Vincent to take over the company?” Rebecca was incredulous. Vincent may be decent at his job, but he was certainly not the man who should be leading the charge. Not only was he reckless, but the intense way he always stared at her caused a feeling of unease to flood her from her head down to her toes. He looked at her like one did a feast set before him on the table. “Why would you choose Vincent?”

  “He’s young, he’s capable, and he’s hungry,” her father responded. “Besides, who else would I look to? Andrews is as old as I am, and there is no one else.”

  “What about me?” she asked, her eyes rising to his, though she knew the answer before the words were even out of her mouth.

  “You? Rebecca, whatever would you know about a power plant? It’s no place for a woman to visit, let alone to work. Surely you’re joking.”

  “I know plenty,” she said. “I know your business model well, having grown up with your multitude of businesses. And I’ve studied the way electricity works, how it is generated by the power plant. If you would only teach me—”

  He waved his hand in front of her face. “Enough of this nonsense, Rebecca. Vincent!” he called out as a shadow darkened the door. “Come in here.”

  The shadow paused, and seconds later, Vincent’s frame filled the doorway. He entered the office, raking his gaze over Rebecca. He was tall, blond, and drew many ladies to him with his charming demeanor. Rebecca had never followed suit, however, and instead preferred to stay far from him. She knew her father envisioned a match between them, and as much as she tried to dissuade him, he would not let the idea rest.

  “Vincent,” her father said, “Rebecca is interested in knowing more of the workings of the company. Perhaps you could show her around the plant today?”

  “I’ve seen the plant, Father,” Rebecca interjected. “Perhaps another time. Father, will you think on Scotland?”

  Her father seemed ready to deny her request, but suddenly looked from her to Vincent standing at the door, then back at her. “Actually, Rebecca,” he said slowly. “Perhaps ’tis not such a bad idea after all. With both Vincent and I accompanying you, you should be safe from the wilds of Scotland. What say you, Vincent, do you believe you can watch out for Rebecca if she were to come on our expedition?”

  His eyes lit up as his head swiveled in her direction. “I can watch you just fine, Rebecca,” he said. “In fact, it would be my pleasure. While I’m not sure the Highlands are a place for women such as yourself, I know many a lady who has visited and returned with fabulous tales to entertain her acquaintances for days to come. I don’t see the harm in it, so long as you stay close.”

  She smiled tersely, hating his words and yet seeing an opportunity. She turned back to her father. “It is settled then. Thank you, Father, I am looking forward to it.”

  “Of course, daughter,” he said, his eyes flashing. “Of course.”

  Rebecca’s heart beat in anticipation as the train slowly approached them at London’s King’s Cross Station, where they waited to board. She could hardly believe that she had the opportunity to leave her stale life in London for an adventure on the Scottish Highlands. She had heard of the expanse of green b
ordered by mountains, the blue skies that went on for miles, and the hearty people who made their livelihoods tending the fields and the sheep. She could hardly wait to see it all for herself.

  The only unfortunate aspect was the company she would be keeping, she thought with a sigh as she looked over at her father and Vincent Thompson. No matter. There were other men on this trip as well, and a few of them were accompanied by their wives, who would hopefully be pleasant enough. It was not the first time her father had traveled to the Highlands to hunt, and after they boarded the train and settled into the dining car, he seemed willing to tell all who would listen just how much he knew of the land to the north.

  “The women?” he laughed in response to a question from a friend, a gentleman slightly younger than himself. “The women are ruddy, fair, and quite willing to entertain gentlemen from the south!”

  Rebecca cringed. She did not consider anything he was saying to be true. It was, at the very least, greatly exaggerated. “You must be careful of their men, however,” her father continued. “The Highlander is quite the physical specimen. While they do not compare to Englishmen, their strength more than makes up for anything they lack in intellect.”

  Rebecca, embarrassed by his attitude, desperately tried to sink into the upholstered dining chair as she turned toward the window and forced her thoughts elsewhere, pushing aside her father’s words.

  She had not known what to pack for this trip. She and her friend Eloise had hastily gone shopping yesterday afternoon, where she’d bought a couple new dresses, more practical for walking and riding. She had also bought a pair of boots that she thought would fare far better than the slippers she most enjoyed wearing. The store proprietor was quite interested in her upcoming travels, though she did not seem to know entirely how to clothe her for the trip. As a result, Rebecca’s traveling bags were stuffed full to the brim of all sorts of clothing she likely wouldn’t need. However, it was good to be prepared, she thought as she gazed out the window at the crush of people milling about outside the windows, some waving goodbye and others making their way to the next platform.

  She groaned aloud when Vincent took a seat beside her as the train slowly began to move. She had hoped he would be preoccupied with her father and their plans for the hunt, but it seemed he did not quite realize her disregard for him.

  “Rebecca, darling,” he said, encroaching onto her seat, making her feel trapped against the window. “Though I am not sure why a fair, beautiful woman like yourself would want to come along, rest assured, as I told you yesterday, I shall revel in your companionship and will take every opportunity to convince you that we would be the perfect match.”

  “Vincent,” she said, turning to him. He had attempted to pursue her before, and she had tried to gently say no, but perhaps a more direct approach was required. “Vincent, you know that you are a very handsome man,” she began, and was not surprised when he nodded at her words. One thing Vincent was, most assuredly, was confident. “You will make a young woman very, very happy one day. Unfortunately, that woman is not to be me. We simply do not suit.”

  “Whatever do you mean?” he asked, his eyebrows drawing together and his voice growing in anger. “We are perfect for one another. Why, together we can grow the Trenton Power Company greater than any could have imagined. It’s what your father wants, it’s what I want. The sooner you accept this, the better.”

  Rebecca gritted her teeth. The man truly was insufferable. His opinion of women was so low it was practically non-existent, and it grated on her that neither Vincent nor her father took any of her thoughts or opinions into account. And yet she was expected to be the link between them — her marriage to Vincent was to bring them all together. When her father had first invited Vincent to join his company, she had been glad. Vincent was an old family friend, and she thought perhaps he would take the role of the son that her father had never had, and had certainly never considered her filling. But before long it became clear that Vincent was not only incompetent, he was damaging the company with his ridiculous ideas and the fact that no man wished to work for him.

  She knew Sullivan could hardly stand it, and yet as her father was the majority shareholder, he kept silent, content as long as he was left to his work.

  “Vincent, I happen to be feeling rather tired at the moment,” she said, which was not entirely untrue. She had certainly wearied of speaking with him. “If you’ll excuse me, I am going to find my way to my car.”

  “If that’s what you would prefer,” he said, though his eyes somewhat darkened as if to tell her that this conversation was not yet finished.

  “I do,” she said, and slipped out of the car back to her own small quarters as quickly as possible. She lay her head down on the narrow cot, closing her eyes. And, it seemed, perhaps she was more tired than she had thought, for soon enough she was fast asleep, her mind filled with dreams of forests, mountains, and freedom unlike any she had ever imagined.

  3

  Rebecca managed to keep to herself for the remainder of the journey by simply not spending much time outside her sleeping car, which was awfully dull. She became rather used to the background chug-chug-chugging of the train’s engine, soothing her as she slept. When the noise dimmed, she woke with a start. They must be reaching the Perth station, she thought. As she emerged from her cabin, she dazedly looked around her, finding that she was, at the very least, mercifully alone, with Vincent nowhere in sight. She made her way off the train, looking for her father. Apparently he hadn’t deemed her important enough to wait for. She sighed.

  It was past the breakfast hour, and Rebecca wondered if she had slept through the meal on the train, or if it had not yet been served. Either way, she hoped it was available on the next train, which was to take them to Inverness, nearly all the way to their destination.

  She wound her way through the other passengers coming and going from one train to another, finally finding the Highland Railway. Truly, would it have been so difficult for her father to wait for her? She boarded the train, seeing him and Vincent sitting across from one another at a table in the dining car, playing cards. Her father said nothing as she walked by, though Vincent gave her a wink that made her cringe. She found her own sleeping cabin, where she settled herself before finding the other ladies, and determined she would enjoy herself for the rest of the journey.

  That was exactly what she did. She finally did have lunch, settling her grumbling stomach. She took out the embroidery she had brought with her to help pass the time and worked away while chatting with the other women. She wasn’t particularly talented, but enjoyed it as a way to keep her fingers busy. Everything around her was forgotten and her conversation died, however, when the Scottish Highlands began to make their appearance through the window.

  She was in awe of the beauty that lay before her. Rolling green land, backdropped by mountains that seemed nearly transparent in the mist that surrounded them, was on full display. Streams of water descending into small lakes appeared as the train rolled by, and white balls of sheep dotted much of the land.

  Rebecca had seen the English countryside before, of course, and had heard stories and seen paintings of Scotland, but she had never imagined it would look anything like this.

  When they disembarked at Inverness, carriages with horses awaited them, which would take them to Aldourie, close to where they were staying. They were not nearly, of course, as fine as the carriages she may have typically ridden in through the streets of London, but as worn as the seats were in places, they were comfortable.

  She pushed aside the window curtain as they rolled over the bumpy cart paths and drove deeper into the Highlands. The acres of green hills rolling down into a shining lake below took her breath away. The lake was long, wide, and the full moon cut a swath through the gathering darkness of night, as if lighting a path across the lake to the castle that rose above it on the other side. It was magic, the showcase of all of God’s blessed work in one place. It made Rebecca’s heart soar, and a w
ide smile broke out on her face.

  They rolled up to a large stone building, not quite a castle but certainly impressive nonetheless. The man who emerged from the front doors to greet them was handsome, dressed in a short kilt and a white shirt. He looked very much the Highland man she had heard of, his long sandy blond hair flowing in the breeze. As he approached with a candle in hand to light the way in front of him, a wide grin of welcome crossed his face.

  “Good evening ladies, gentlemen,” he said, reaching out a hand to help the women out of the carriages that had pulled up in front of him. “Welcome to Darfield Keep, my home, and yours for the next several days. I’m pleased to meet you. Rory MacTavish, at your service.” He gave an extravagant bow.

  Her father blustered by the man, looking around him. “You are the only one to welcome us?” he asked.

  “I do have several servants to help you with your belongings,” answered the man. “They will be out momentarily. Now come, follow me and I shall see you settled in your rooms.”

  He led them into a great hall where, as promised, a few servants awaited them, including a plump, older woman who Rebecca assumed to be a housekeeper of sorts. As Rebecca was the only single woman, she was led to a decidedly feminine room, complete with beautiful white curtains over the window and around the bed, which was bordered by a warm fur rug.

  “This room was Kyla’s,” the woman told her. “She’d be Rory’s sister, now married to one of the McDougall lads from the next property over. Though I s’pose I shoudna call him a lad anymore.” The woman laughed. “Anyway, ye shall be quite comfortable here. Should you need anything at all, just holler for me. My name’s Agnes. We’ll be havin’ a meal set out shortly, or if you’d prefer a tray, ye just tell me.”

  Rebecca nodded and lay her traveling bags down on the floor next to the bed, having decided to carry them herself when no one else had offered. She was tired, though she wouldn’t mind some company for the meal. She told Agnes she would come down to eat, to which the woman told her to join them at any time.