“I like having you here, Tilly,” Benjamin whispered.
Her heart fluttered like a school girl’s at the raw emotion she saw on his face. “Benjamin, I-“
He interrupted by lifting her from the chair and enfolding her in his arms. “Please, do not say anything,” he said.
She relaxed in his embrace. With his strong arms wrapped around her, she felt peace. She ran her hands down his back, enjoying the feel of his muscles. She remembered how wonderful they felt the night they made love. She drew back slightly so she could look up at him. She savored the gentle caress of his warm hand and gazed deeply into his eyes. She did not resist when he leaned forward and gently kissed her. Her lips parted. She slipped her tongue into his mouth and tasted whisky. She moaned as she stood on her tiptoes, eager to be as close to him as possible.
She pressed her breasts against his chest and felt his arms tighten around her waist. She knew he felt every bit of the intense desire building between them. She should stop, yet she could not resist pressing her hips against his swelling manhood. Their night of passion blazed in her memory. She admitted that she secretly longed to experience it again.
“We must stop,” he said breathlessly, placing his hands upon her shoulders and pushing her away.
“Yes,” Tilly said, though not entirely in agreement. “We shouldn’t get carried away.”
Groaning, he grabbed the glass and tossed back the remnants of the drink. “Why do you tempt me so?”
“What do you mean?” she asked in seeming innocence as she tried to wrap her arms around his waist.
He reluctantly extricated himself from her embrace. “I should not have come to your room tonight…or any night, for that matter,” he said. “It is not proper.”
Her face flushed. “We abandoned propriety the moment we met,” she said defiantly. “Don’t toss that in my face now.”
She stood in front of him, forcing him to look her in the eyes. “You were different this afternoon,” she said. “Why are you so cold now?”
He stared at her so long that Tilly thought he might not answer. Finally, he did. “I was reminded that we do not know each other as well as we should,” he said evenly. “I have allowed you certain liberties because of my growing comfort with you. Perhaps I have moved too quickly.”
“You didn’t seem to mind kissing me a few seconds ago!” she exclaimed, flinging her hands in disgust. “What the hell is your problem?”
She paced in front of the fireplace. “I don’t understand you, Benjamin. You share your secrets with me. You introduce me to your family, even to your best friend’s parents. You wouldn’t do these things if you didn’t trust me. Why second guess yourself? Are you afraid of your feelings?”
He returned to his seat and leaned forward. “Please tell me the truth,” he said earnestly. “I must know how you really came to be here. If you are my father’s agent, then tell me. If you work for another, confess. Let us be honest with each other. I must know if your feelings are true or part of a ruse. Please do not play with my affections, lass.”
His words were like a blow to the stomach. After all this time, we return to the same place, she thought bitterly. “Get out,” she commanded.
He rose from his chair. “Tilly, I – “
She glared at him. “My name is Mrs. Munro, sir,” she said, her voice trembling. “You should not address me so informally.”
He nodded and quietly slipped from the room.
∞
Mr. Murphy carefully cracked the wax seal and opened the letter that Mr. Ramsey presented to him earlier in the day. His extensive duties had not afforded him an opportunity to read it until then, no matter how much he desired. He bent closer to the lone candle on the table beside his bed. He smiled at the familiar handwriting.
My faithful servant,
I thank you for your letter. You were right to alert me to the presence of the peculiar woman my son discovered in the forest. I share your concern about her. It is most unsettling.
Let me speak frankly with you, my old friend. My son has a naïve view of the world. He thinks all people are good and trusts too easily. He is also grieving the loss of a beloved wife. He is an easy target for a cunning woman with matrimony on her mind.
I know the post is not the most express means of communication. I give you leave to send a messenger with all haste if the situation becomes dire.
With continued wishes for your health –
Your Grace
Malcolm Campbell
Mr. Murphy folded the letter and tucked it into a secret compartment he made under the table. The other servants probably suspected he sent news to His Grace. He did not want to give them proof.
He stared into the darkness of his room. He sincerely hoped that the rumors of growing affection between Mr. Campbell and Mrs. Munro were untrue. He feared the return of Malcolm Campbell almost as much as anyone else in the castle. And, yet, he thought, I must protect dear Allan if she means us harm.
He frowned bitterly and rose from the bed. Before he could rest his head upon the pillow, he knew he must write a letter.
Thirty Two
Benjamin sat at the desk in his study, staring at a ledger of tenant accounts. For the tenth time, he attempted to tally the column. His mind drifted once again before he reached the end. Irritated, he slammed the book closed and dropped his head into his hands.
For the last two weeks, Tilly distanced herself from him. She continued to teach his children and work with the new tutor. She was cordial to him at dinner and engaged in pleasant conversation with Iain and Daniel. However, she refused to answer her door when he visited her in the evening or address him directly whenever he spoke with her. She completely ignored him. To his chagrin, her cold demeanor chafed his pride.
He knew that their last encounter was the reason. He desperately wanted to know the truth, even if she was not the innocent woman she claimed to be. Iain was right. He allowed his feelings for Tilly to cloud his judgment. If I just knew who she was, I would know what to do, he thought. Then, he remembered the whispered advice his wife’s spirit gave him in the chapel.
“Then, show me the damn sign!” he exclaimed aloud, looking to the ceiling. “Mary, do not torture me!”
He jumped when someone knocked at his door. “Enter.”
Mr. Murphy walked into the room, accompanied by a flustered young man who would not meet Benjamin’s gaze. “Milord, please forgive the interruption.” He cast a disapproving glance at the lad behind him. “Your father has sent an urgent message.”
Benjamin motioned for the man to take a seat.
“Nay, milord,” the man said. He gestured toward his dusty clothes. “I have been riding for three days and do not want to soil your fine furniture.” He reached into his jacket pocket and produced a letter. His hand trembled slightly as he handed it to Benjamin. “Mr. Campbell asked that I deliver this to you. He said I should not leave until you provide me with a reply.”
“Mr. Murphy, please take this man to the kitchen and provide him with refreshment,” Benjamin commanded, waving the men from his office.
The butler nodded and promptly escorted the man from the room.
Benjamin stared at the missive for a few moments. His father’s correspondence never offered kind words and wishes for health and happiness. Reluctantly, he broke the red wax seal and opened the letter.
My son,
I am most aggrieved by the information recently conveyed to me. You have taken in a wayward woman who is now acting as a governess to your children. It has been hinted that you may have developed an unnatural affection for her. It is outrageous!
I cannot condone Mrs. Donnelly’s horrifying behavior. You were right to dismiss her at once. However, hiring a replacement whose background is unknown greatly troubles me. This strange woman has no connections, no family, in the area. You found her wandering in the forest after her husband and servants were slaughtered by highwaymen.
I do not approve. While I understand
the Christian duty to help those in need, you should have sent her on her way after a few days’ stay. Why would you allow this woman to stay and teach your children? I fear the answer is most troubling.
I have heard she is a comely lass. Be on your guard, Benjamin. Women of nefarious character will take advantage of you and prey upon your affections. She may seek to ingratiate herself with your children in an effort to win your heart and fortune. A woman of unknown provenance is an unsuitable mate.
On that score, I am pleased to say that I have found a woman who is appropriate for the future heir of the Campbell fortune. She is a woman of great refinement and breeding. Her dowry is forty thousand pounds. She stands to inherit a lovely estate not far from Tinberry Hall.
I had hoped to forestall an introduction until your mourning had passed. I intended for you to visit our home in England and have a formal meeting with the lady. You have not been here in years – and my grandchildren have never been here at all! They should know that the Campbell family’s reach extends beyond Castle Fion.
However, given the intelligence I have received about this interloper, I am concerned you will make a foolish mistake. I have instructed my messenger to wait for a response from you. Is my intervention required? Is she more than a servant to you? Do you have plans to send her away?
You know me well enough, boy, to understand that an unacceptable response will send me to your door. I will bring the prospect with me. You may then settle your affections on a quality mate, not a fortune seeker from God knows where.
Do not disappoint me.
Your father,
Malcolm Campbell
Benjamin tossed away the letter in disgust. The last thing he needed was a visit from his father. If Malcolm Campbell came to Castle Fion, Benjamin feared all his hard-won victories would be erased in a matter of days.
He rose from the desk and reached the door in four quick strides. When he flung open the door, he almost crashed into Iain. Seeing the concerned expression on his friend’s face, Benjamin asked, “I take it you have heard about my father’s messenger?”
“No,” Iain said. “I come with other news.”
Sighing heavily, Benjamin walked past the factor. “Let’s us discuss it elsewhere,” he said, making his way toward the castle’s entrance. “I have a need to be away from this place.”
Thirty Three
Benjamin and Iain rode in silence until they reached a ridge that overlooked the loch. From this vantage point, they could see the little village of Deoch and the gently rolling mountains that were reflected upon the surface of the water. It was a view that always calmed Benjamin. He took several deep breaths of the clean, cool air and tried to slow the beating of his heart. He knew he must get his emotions in check before he made any hasty decisions.
Finally, he turned to Iain and asked, “What news do you have?”
“Our sentries found a camp in the forest,” Iain said gravely. “It was some distance from the castle but too close for my comfort.”
Benjamin had not expected this news. “Can you tell how recently it was used?” he asked, a cold chill of dread creeping up his spine. “Perhaps it was abandoned long ago.”
Iain shook his head. “The embers were still warm,” he said. “Whoever used the camp knew the sentries were near and ran. They found a trail leading away from the site. They lost it when the trail came to a stream.”
“Could it be the MacDonald?”
“Aye, it is possible. It troubles me deeply.”
“Have you received any reports from Deoch?”
“Not about Richard MacDonald.”
He thought Iain’s response was rather vague. “What have you heard?” he asked, eyes narrowing.
“Mrs. Donnelly disappeared. No one recalls seeing her leave the village. They found her things in her room. The innkeeper kept them as recompense for the unpaid bill. If she left for London, why would she have left her clothes and personal items?”
“Mrs. Donnelly’s travelling habits are not my concern.”
“They should be,” Iain advised, his voice stern. “I found her sudden absence most vexing so I asked my men to investigate. This morning, they found a shallow grave behind the stable. They were able to identify the body from the ring she wore. If you will recall, her wedding band was most unusual – a small ruby set in a band of silver thorns. She said it belonged to her late husband’s mother.”
“If someone robbed her, they would have taken the ring. How did she die?”
“They found a neat stab wound to the heart. The blow showed great efficiency, something a skilled warrior could have done.”
“Someone like Richard MacDonald.”
“Aye, I recall that he spent a few years in France as a mercenary,” Iain said grimly. “No one in Deoch reports seeing the man, but Mrs. Donnelly’s death is too convenient. Everyone knew she worked at the castle. Could he have killed her to send a message to you?
“I dismissed her months ago. She was of no consequence to me.”
“It may be that is why he killed her,” Iain said, thoughtfully rubbing his chin. “He wanted you to know that he can take whoever he wants, whenever he wants.”
“Why would he reveal himself prematurely? If he killed her, then he has lost the element of surprise.”
Iain considered the observation. “Richard MacDonald has waited many years to exact his revenge,” he said, at last. “I suspect he wants to slowly punish you. He will not strike in one swift blow. It will be death by a thousand tiny cuts.”
“I trust you have increased security around the castle.”
“Aye. I have doubled the guards and instructed them to keep a close eye on the children. If I were Richard MacDonald, I would attack them first.”
“Please ask them to watch Tilly,” he said. Iain was silent. “She deserves protection too.”
“If she works for the MacDonald, she will not need it.”
“Do you honestly believe that she does?” he asked, glaring at his friend. “She has not given us any reason to suspect her guilt.”
“I am cautious around anything – or anyone – that I do not understand. Take heed. Mrs. Munro is equally troubling.”
“You sound like my father,” he said. With bitterness in his voice, he informed Iain about the contents of the letter. He was glad to see his friend was just as concerned as he was that Malcolm Campbell might return to Castle Fion.
“You must send her away at once!” Iain said urgently. “She could undo everything you have accomplished.”
Benjamin said nothing as he coaxed his horse forward. He knew Iain expected him to agree, yet he was greatly conflicted. He chose instead to delay the conversation.
They rode down the ridge into the green valley below and approached a small copse of trees. Benjamin dismounted from his horse and loosely tied its reins to a tree. He removed a bottle of whisky from his saddle bag. After taking a long swig, he offered the bottle to an appreciative Iain.
“I have lied,” Benjamin said. “I have broken the law. I have concocted great schemes to subvert my father’s plans. My whole life has been dedicated to the protection of this estate and its people.”
“Aye, it has.”
“For once, I want to do something for myself. Why is it wrong for me to be happy?”
Iain laid a gentle hand upon his friend’s shoulder. “You cannot be happy if it meant destroying someone else’s life,” he said, smiling ruefully. “If your father knew half the things you have done, he would not allow you to manage the estate. It would be as it was before. Do you want that?”
Benjamin lowered his head. “No,” he replied, his voice filled with sorrow. “It has been a long time since the people had hope.”
“Yes, it has. You have given them a living. You have fed them when they had nothing to eat. You have provided them with shelter and let them pay their rent when they could, instead of demanding payment as your father would have.” He squeezed Benjamin’s shoulder. “And, they know, when your
father dies, you will let them buy their farms. They can finally have a piece of earth that is their own. They stay because they know you will do right by them.”
Benjamin walked away from Iain and looked at the valley before them. A farm had once stood there, its remnants evident by the crumbling rock fence and collapsed cottage. His father evicted the tenants to make way for the sheep that presently grazed on the fragrant grass.
“When I last spoke with her, I begged her to tell me who she was,” he said, keeping his back to Iain. “She was angry and has not spoken with me since that evening. It rips apart my heart. I miss her. We used to have such wonderful conversations, unlike any I have ever experienced with a woman. I feel her absence keenly. What does that mean?”
“Do you love her, Benjamin?”
“I fear that I do.”
“If you feel fear, then you must be in love,” Iain said, laughing heartily. “I have found much fear in the presence of love.”
Benjamin turned and cocked an eyebrow. “When have you known love?” he asked, incredulous. “You have never courted a woman.”
“Your attention was always turned toward Mary. What do you know of my life?” Iain’s eyes grew uncharacteristically misty. “It was many years ago. She was a bonny lass and wanted to wed. I was too stupid to see it. I thought we were having a bit o’ fun. It was only after she told me she would marry another that I realized my true feelings for her. I begged her not to do it. Ah, it was too late.”
He strode to Benjamin’s side. “The day she wed a MacDougall, I stood on a hill above the church. My heart broke when the bells pealed. I watched them ride away, smiling and laughing. It was the last time I saw her alive. She died a year later while giving birth to a stillborn bairn.”
“I am truly sorry, Iain.”
“I often wonder if her life would have been better with me than with the other man. Would she have survived? Would she have been happy?”
Through the Mist: Restoration Page 22
