“No matter,” Blanche Wren said, unmoved. “Mr. Innes told you the marquess has a house in London, did he not?”
“He did.”
“Belgravia,” Mama said reverently. “With luck we shall be installed there before the end of the season.”
Grace very much doubted that they would be installed anywhere but in Kirkcaldy, the marquess’s house some miles west of a village called Dunkeld, for many months to come. All of Scotland was a mystery to Grace, but Calum Innes had assured her the marquess’s house was agreeable, the staff compliant, and the marquess himself an undemanding man. Yes, she would tolerate Scotland’s mystery well enough under such circumstances—particularly while contemplating the pleasant rewards the final result of this liaison promised.
“Do you suppose the other ladies of our station hold regular salons?”
“What is our station?” Grace could not resist asking.
Mama straightened her spine. “You know perfectly well. You are to be a marchioness.” At forty-five, Blanche Wren was a pretty, plump woman with rather too many chestnut ringlets and a magpie’s fascination with flashy finery.
“There cannot be much farther to go,” Grace said. Her high spirits began to waver. “I do hope the marquess is as congenial as Mr. Innes told me.”
“Of course he is.”
“Of course.” And, after all, she must not forget the situation would be temporary. “Mama, please tell me what your friends said of Lord Stonehaven.”
“I see cottages,” Mama said suddenly, leaning toward the window. “Beside the river.”
“Yes. Do not evade me on this yet again. What did the ladies in your sewing group say?”
“They said nothing derogatory. Do look, Grace. This is quite a pretty place. See how it nestles in the valley.”
Grace looked where her mother pointed. “That will be Dunkeld and the River Tay.” The river was satiny and wide, and the hills the color of dark emeralds. Here and there patches of snow still clung to the higher reaches. “Which of the ladies knew Stonehaven the best?”
“Oh, fie!” Mama fell against the black leather squabs of the luxurious coach the marquess had so generously provided. “How you do persist. All right. Since you insist, I must tell you the truth. I cannot bear any misunderstandings between us.”
Apprehension made Grace shiver.
“I did not ask about the marquess at all. There. Now you have it.”
Grace laced her gloved fingers tightly together. “Mama, you promised.”
“I did no such thing. I agreed. But then I changed my mind, and I don’t want to hear another word about it.”
“I’m afraid you shall have to hear several more words on the subject.” Vexation and anxiety thinned Grace’s temper. “You assured me that I had nothing to worry about in agreeing to this marriage. You implied that you had been told positive things about the gentleman.”
“I told you I had heard nothing derogatory about him. Which I had not.”
“Mama, that was deceitful. You said your friends knew the marquess.”
“Some of them probably do. And I deliberately said nothing of the matter to them. Nothing at all.”
“Nothing?” Grace moved to the edge of her seat. “Where do they think we have gone?”
Mama smiled archly. “They believe we are staying with rich relatives in the North. Soon that will be perfectly true.”
“It will not,” Grace said, infuriated.
“Certainly it will. Stonehaven lives in the North. He is exceedingly rich, and we are about to be related to him.”
The whole thing was impossible. “Why didn’t you tell the truth and try to find out more?”
“Because I could not risk our losing this plum opportunity, you peagoose.” Red rushed to Mama’s already rouged cheeks. “Half of those women have unmarried daughters. Do you think I would risk one of them trying to usurp our position?”
Grace turned a shoulder to her mother and closed her eyes. She refused to enter into these silly imaginings Blanche indulged.
“It’s getting darker,” Mama said after some time had passed. “Perhaps we should have found an inn in Dunkeld to spend the night.”
“We will be there before dark,” Grace said, keeping her eyes shut. “The coachman assured us.” Was it too late to turn back?
“I only did what I thought was best.”
“I’m resting.”
“You are not. You are angry with me.”
Angry because again her mother put her own gain before her daughter’s happiness? Yes. “It really doesn’t matter.” She studied the landscape again. “The entire business cannot last too long.” She tried not to worry the question as to why her future husband had sought a wife through such unusual means.
“What an amazing offer this is, Grace,” Mama said, as she had said at least once an hour for the past four weeks since they had met Mr. Calum Innes. “A title. A comfortable home on a thriving estate.”
“Indeed.” Grace’s spirits lifted. “The marquess keeps to his house and requires only my loyal attention in trying times.”
“Yes.” Mama nodded solemnly. “I suppose he will make funds available to you immediately.”
“According to Mr. Innes, the marriage will take place almost at once.”
“The poor marquess needs you.”
He needed her. Grace tapped her toes together and fiddled with a loose thread on her pelisse. Needed her. “Mama …” Surely now was an appropriate time to ask the questions that had formerly and summarily been dismissed. “Mama, what exactly do you suppose the marquess will require of me?”
“You have already been told.” Mama’s face took on the cross look that warned of a possible ill temper to come.
There might never be another opportunity to seek guidance in what was clearly a most sensitive area. What occurred between a man and a woman … a married man and woman … when they were alone?
“Mama, if I were not marrying an exceedingly ancient and mortally sick man, what might I need to contemplate when …?” Oh, she knew so little of life. She knew nothing of life, and the most terrible part of it all was that she knew she knew nothing of life. “What do a man and woman do after they marry?” Grace asked in a rush.
“Do?” Mama pulled her brows together over a wrinkled nose. “What can you mean?”
She meant that she had never been allowed the opportunity to make any friends her own age, had never known a single female to whom she could turn for guidance, and there were things she simply had to know. “It is all so puzzling. I’ve heard things your friends have said about marriage. Or started to say. Whenever they realized I was there, they whispered behind their fans and uttered long-suffering sighs as if they were withholding something quite terrible.” It was a beginning. “And I want to know because even though I shall probably never experience such matters for myself, I wish to be treated as an adult and to be aware of what I am missing.” There. She had said it all.
Mama’s bosom rose and fell once, mightily. “Well,” she said, averting her face. “They say there can be hidden depths in deep waters.”
New boldness loosened Grace’s tongue. “I should certainly imagine there is. After all, one cannot see everything in water that’s deep, can one? Any more than one ever knows absolutely everything about a person from the outside—not if they have a single brain. Of any dimension at all, that is.”
Mama’s mouth, which had slowly opened, snapped shut. “Well!” Her fingers were wound together into a quivering knot. “I never thought my daughter capable of such … You know everything that a gently born young female should know about … about the subject you so indelicately raise.
“As you say, you are to marry an old invalid. When you are alone—after you are married—you will read to him from the Bible, keep your voice and eyes lowered at all times, smooth his bed sheets, and smile. Smile, my girl, not grin.”
Once more Mama presented her profile, and Grace felt the subject close. Frustration made her
wriggle afresh. It was abominable to know that there was something one did not know. But she would be patient. After all, she was not so old that—if the marquess did not linger overlong—she might not eventually experience some deeper harmony of the mind. With a man equally interested in her mind.
The trap opened behind Grace’s head, and the coachman called down: “Yon’s Kirkcaldy, lassie. Ye’ll see it well fra’ here.”
Grace and her mother turned their attention to the view from the hill they now descended. On hills to the north and east lay dense forest. A river running from the southwest forked like a silver divining rod and snaked to circle a broad valley. Small clusters of cottages dotted endless fields on the valley floor, and to the west a village huddled about a church.
And on a flat-topped mound in the center, surrounded by parkland and ringed all about with a wall as thick as any two cottages standing side by side, was a massive gray stone structure fronted by twin drum towers and cornered on all sides with many-turreted angle towers.
There was no house of any size to be seen.
“Where?” Grace said hoarsely. “Where? Angus, where is Kirkcaldy House?” She directed her question through the trap.
“Castle Kirkcaldy, lassie. Ye canna miss it. Home of the Rossmaras for many a century.”
“Oh, Grace,” Blanche Wren whispered when the trap had snapped shut.
“A castle,” Grace mouthed. She looked out once more. “That castle?”
Mama spread her fingers over her mouth. “Yes. That castle. And it will be ours. Ours, Grace.”
This time it was nervousness that started Grace bobbing in her seat once more. “Mr. Innes did not mention a castle.”
“What is the marquess’s will be ours. Mr. Innes said so.”
Grace could not stop her teeth from chattering. “This is all too much.”
“Nothing is too much.” Mama’s blue eyes sparkled. “We need never worry again. We shall have the very best of everything.”
“Oh, dear. Surely he could easily have found a wife from nearer at hand.” What could be so awful about the marquess that he’d been forced to seek a distant stranger as a companion? “I am becoming quite fuddled. Mr. Innes did say all that would be required of me would be to give Lord Stonehaven my loyal regard in the trying matter of his remaining earthly demands, did he not?”
“Oh, yes, yes!” Mama also bobbed.
“Mr. Innes said several times that the marquess keeps mostly to his rooms,” Grace said. “Marriage to a man too sick to go about will undoubtedly be short.”
“And Mr. Innes said there are no children.”
Grace nodded.
“So there we are. There is nothing to fear. You will be what the marquess needs, and then we shall be rich.”
“Mama!”
Blanche Wren pursed her lips. “I am merely stating the obvious.”
“I do intend to be most faithful to his lordship’s demands, Mama,” Grace said disapprovingly.
“Of course you do.”
“I would never care to be considered a heartless opportunist.”
“Absolutely not.”
Grace frowned down upon Castle Kirkcaldy. “Yet that is what I am. Or what I was.”
“What do you mean?”
“I do not even know the marquess, so he knows that I cannot have a tendre for him. Just as he cannot have a tendre for me. The proposal Mr. Innes made was by way of being in part a business arrangement. But I am completely set on making my husband glad that I was found for him.”
“I’m sure you are.” Now Mama’s eyes were round and earnest.
Grace drew herself up. “I shall wed him—in his bed if necessary. Then I shall give complete attention to his remaining earthly demands.” She concentrated on remembering her mother’s instructions. “I shall read to him from the Bible as often as pleases him, and do all the other things necessary.”
“I know you will make the gentleman happy.”
“If anyone can, I will. I’ll marry him and tend him.”
Mama shook her head sadly. “And bury him … and mourn him.”
“Exactly as I should.” Grace felt a rush of guilty relief. “Everything will be as the marquess wishes.”
And then she would be free!
Fascination Chapter 2
Calum had deliberately brought about this unspeakable aggravation. Now the wretch insisted upon standing at a window in the highest room of the Adam Tower, his eye clamped to Arran’s telescope.
“For God’s sake, come away from the window.”
“Have patience, Arran.”
“A stranger. A female I’ve never set eyes upon. Hell and damnation, I am like some virgin bride awaiting her unknown fate.”
Calum chuckled. “Hardly. And there are enough eager misses among your neighbor’s households. May I remind you that you could have any one of them.”
“Never.” At least he would have the pleasure of surprising the dear, malicious surrounding gentry. “My desolation at … They enjoyed my misery when they thought I was destroyed by … We will not talk of that. I will have none of them.”
“So it will be Miss Wren.”
Damn Mortimer. And damn the misfortune that had been Father’s scheme to ensure the clipping of his elder son’s wings. “No. No, I will not see her.”
“I think I already do.”
“Not only a strange female I’m supposed to take as my bride, but her mother to boot.”
“You sent me to London in your stead, Arran. It was unthinkable that you should take the time to go yourself. I did my duty as prescribed by you. One could hardly expect a young female to travel to Scotland without a companion.”
Nothing could lessen this awful premonition that his life was about to change forever. “I will not see her, I tell you.”
“As I’ve already said, I think I see her now. A black carriage and … Yes, it’s yours, right enough.”
“Mine? Ah, yes, mine.” He vaguely remembered Calum coming to the gallery one night some weeks previous and mentioning sending old Angus Creigh to London with a coach in case it was needed. “You should not have rushed ahead, Calum.”
“If I’d waited … if I’d come back and told you about the girl and asked what you wanted me to do, you know you’d have cried off the whole thing. You would not do this for yourself, so I’ve done it for you.”
“Then you can marry her for me, too, dammit.” Arran waved a hand. “Forgive me. It’s not your fault. You thought you were acting for the best.”
“I was and I am. She’ll be here shortly.”
Arran was anxious for his night’s work. “Greet her kindly. Make sure she rests for as long as necessary—a day, two even. Then return her to London.”
“I cannot!”
“You can and you will.”
“I cannot and I will not.” Determination tightened Calum’s firm mouth. “You are confronted by potential disaster, yet you will not see any of it.”
“There is nothing about my affairs that I cannot spin to my advantage.”
“You cannot spin the dictates of your father’s will into anything but what they are.”
“I should never have allowed you to talk me into this madness with the girl.”
“Arran—”
“No.” He held up a finger. “I have spoken my piece and now I have work to do.”
“You cannot shut yourself away with your infernal music and trust that the world will remain as you wish it. This affair must be dealt with.”
“Soon. I will deal with it very soon.”
“The coach will soon reach the courtyard. We should go down.”
“You should go down. Kindly apologize to Miss Wren and her parent.” There must be a way to deal gracefully with them. “I will decide upon a suitable, er, gift to show my gratitude.”
“Very well, we might as well deal with all your rage at once.”
“I beg your pardon?”
Calum turned up his palms. “I am ready for your wrath. I ma
y even deserve it. What I did not tell you was that I encountered Mortimer in London—at White’s. He was tossing blunt at the tables as if he already had the Rossmara fortune at his disposal.”
“That is nothing to me.” Except a further reminder of his untenable position.
“I fear it is. He was foxed. I heard him speak of his son’s inheritance.”
“He would not,”.Arran said. “He would not dare before it is time.”
“It was said for my benefit. The drink made him daring and he could not resist baiting me. Any other would assume he spoke of what he himself would leave to Roger.”
Arran’s jaw clenched. “The fool. He will never get what he wants.”
“No, he will not, but nevertheless, he took note of what I mentioned. Said he’d soon be bound for a stay in Edinburgh. Be certain that as soon as he can gather his poisonous wife and whatever other entourage he considers desirable, they will flock to this castle like vultures.”
For an instant Arran did not understand. “The man hasn’t been here since Father died. He knows he isn’t welcome, but … How did he find out …?” The sheepish look in Calum’s eyes was answer enough. “You told Mortimer I was getting married, didn’t you?”
“I am only a man.”
“Yes. And so am I. How long before Mortimer descends?” He shut his eyes tightly. “Do not say that he is also fast upon my doorstep.”
“He’ll be a week—perhaps even two.”
“Good.” Arran strode across the room.
Calum caught up with him amid standing suits of armor in the passageway leading to his apartments. “Wait, Arran. What do you intend to do?”
“No more questions,” he told Calum. “Kindly go down and greet my fiancée.”
Grace had watched the scene they passed with mingled awe and anxiety. Smoke curled from the chimneys of tidy cottages set amid small but equally tidy gardens. Those people still abroad appeared cheerful and well fed—until they saw the marquess’s coach.
“Did you see how the people looked when they saw us?” Grace asked her mother with a shudder. “As if they thought we would leap forth and attack them? Even as they stood respectfully by, they cringed.”
Fascination -and- Charmed Page 2
