What he hadn’t expected was for James to shock him.
“Mairi’s no’ actin’ like a lady, sir. Not with her spending the night at the Lord Provost the way she has. Twice, I figure.” James glanced at him.
Macrath stared at the stall ahead of him, at the plume of air from a young mare’s nostrils. The horse pawed at the ground as if eager to be gone from this place. At the moment, he felt the same.
“Did she tell you she was attacked?” James asked.
Their gazes met. “No, she didn’t mention that.”
“Aye, the night she gave the speech,” James said, and proceeded to tell him the whole of it. “The Lord Provost’s man came and found me himself,” he said. “I was to go home and not worry about Mairi, since she’d gone to speak with him with a few other ladies.”
Macrath glanced at him. “But you didn’t believe that?”
“I knew it wasn’t true, sir. I’d been looking for her myself. No one else was missing but Mairi, and everyone was talking about how the Lord Provost himself had rescued her.” He shook his head. “Some people seem to think they’re invisible, sir, that just because they don’t want to be seen, they won’t be.”
“So she spent the night with the Lord Provost?”
James nodded. “And a time after that as well.”
Macrath leaned his head back against the timbered wall behind him and told James about the letters.
When he was finished, James stared straight ahead.
“I’ve no idea who would do that, sir. But I think a woman would be behind it.”
Surprised, Macrath looked at him. “You would, why?”
“Because a man would come right out and say something direct. It’s women who hint and threaten all delicate like.”
He couldn’t say that he agreed with James, but the idea did have merit.
Right now he needed to figure out a way to get Mairi to mitigate her behavior. Not only for her reputation but more importantly for her safety.
“I’d have you stick a little closer to her, James. Protect her from whatever threat she’s facing.”
“And what if she’s a yen for the Lord Provost, Mr. Sinclair? What am I to do then?”
The two men stared at each other, leaving Macrath with two thoughts: life around his sister was never dull and maybe Logan Harrison was exactly what she needed.
Chapter 24
As long as Virginia and Macrath were around, the house was peaceful. The minute the two of them went into Kinloch Village or were occupied with tasks, Enid and Brianag were at it tooth and nail. More often than not, Mairi joined Ellice on a walk.
Today they’d bundled up against the cold and escaped to the woods.
“They have to stop one of these days,” Ellice said.
“They haven’t yet and I doubt they will,” Mairi said. “Some people actually enjoy arguing,” she added, then wondered if she was one of those. Granted, there was something exciting about entering into a debate with Logan. Thinking about it, her pulse raced and she had an absurd wish to smile.
What was he doing now? He certainly wasn’t walking through the woods, shivering with the cold.
“I do get tired of their constant disagreements,” Ellice said.
“Would talking with your mother have any effect?”
Ellice shook her head. “I know my mother. She may smile and be very polite, but she’s the most stubborn person on earth. Brianag is the same.”
Mairi motioned toward a fallen tree trunk. She didn’t even care about the state of her skirt, merely sat herself down, arranging the soft hoop around her. Her cloak, normally thick enough for an Edinburgh winter, was no match for the wind coming off the ocean. Her lips were numb and her face stiff with cold.
She had lost the ability to smell anything a half hour earlier, unless it was the cold.
“I’m going home tomorrow,” she said. “You’re the one who’s going to have to endure them.”
The Gazette had never gone for more than two weeks without an edition. Plus, she had broadsides to publish as well as the rest of the printed material for the SLNA she’d agreed to do.
“You remind me of my sister,” Ellice suddenly said, coming to sit beside her.
“I do?”
“Oh, not in appearance, although Eudora was regal looking and so are you. It’s just that Eudora had a way of getting things done.”
She had never thought of herself as regal looking, but didn’t say so to Ellice.
“You must miss her a great deal.”
Ellice nodded. “It’s easier being here,” she said. “Eudora was never at Drumvagen. It’s not like the London house, where I saw her everywhere. I think it’s better for Mother, too.” She smiled, an expression that brought out the beauty of her brown eyes.
She truly liked the girl. Ellice deserved better than to be placed in the middle of squabbles between her mother and Drumvagen’s housekeeper.
“You need to come to Edinburgh to visit me,” she said.
Ellice’s eyes widened. “Truly? I should enjoy that above all things. I love Drumvagen, but in London there were so many things to see and do. Is it the same in Edinburgh?”
“I would venture to say that there is more to see and do in Edinburgh than there ever was in London.”
When Ellice smiled at her, she tempered her Scottish pride a bit. “Or at least the equal of London. Perhaps you can even return with me. I’ll talk to Macrath today. He can talk Enid into anything.”
Mairi entered Macrath’s library later that day, taking the chair in front of the fire instead of the one beside the desk where he sat. She wasn’t going to feel like a penitent in front of her brother.
“I’d like to take Ellice back to Edinburgh with me.”
“Ellice?”
She nodded. “The girl deserves a change of scenery. And a little less bickering.” She frowned at him. “You need to do something about the two of them, Macrath.”
“What do you suggest I do?”
He looked helpless, and she felt a surge of fondness for him. He’d always been the most competent person. She hated for him to be at the mercy of two harpies.
“I don’t know,” she said, wishing she had an answer. “But think of something to keep them occupied other than making everyone at Drumvagen miserable. In the meantime, I’m going home.”
“Before you leave,” he said as she stood and was making her way to the door. “Let’s solve another problem, shall we?”
She glanced over her shoulder at him.
“I’ve talked to James.”
Oh dear.
He stood, coming around the desk and advancing on her.
“Why didn’t you tell me about the attack on you?”
“Because I knew it would upset you,” she said. “Because I don’t bleat about my problems and I wasn’t about to come running to my little brother.”
“By two years, Mairi, that’s all.”
They’d had this conversation often enough for it to be annoying now.
“A little consideration, Mairi, that’s all I ask. I would have liked to be informed.”
“You would have come to Edinburgh,” she said, “when your family needs you here. You would have insisted that I come to Drumvagen to live. We would have fought about it and neither of us given way. Isn’t it better to learn after the fact?”
He frowned at her. She wanted to tell him that he wasn’t nearly as intimidating as the Lord Provost of Edinburgh, but perhaps it wasn’t wise to bring up Logan at the moment.
“Why do I need to write you at all, Macrath, when you have your spies on me? Robert eternally fusses at me about money, and James about the rest of my life. I’m surprised you don’t know every detail of my days.”
“James is to look out for you, not be your nanny. And Robert’s position was never designed to be a taskmaster.”
“Tell Robert that,” she said.
He leaned back against the desk, folding his arms and studying her.
“
How did Harrison come to rescue you?”
Her mouth fell open, and she closed it with a snap. She hadn’t expected that question. Everyone in her household knew she’d been attacked. They hadn’t known about Logan’s role.
What had James told him? Or had Logan said something? No, he’d given his word.
“Does it matter now?”
“Are you in love with the man?”
Another question she hadn’t expected. She headed for the door.
“Mairi.”
She turned and looked at Macrath again. “You ask too many questions, Macrath. I don’t have answers for you.”
“Or for yourself?”
Her brother was becoming a little too perceptive for comfort.
“Can Ellice come with me?”
“Yes,” he said. “I agree that she needs a change of scenery.”
She nodded, slipping out of the room before he could comment further.
Macrath sat at his desk, his attention on the fire. The cold had made conditions inside his laboratory unbearable, so he’d given his men the day off. Tomorrow they’d make inroads on finalizing the new design. For now, he had to solve the problem he’d been avoiding for months.
He’d taken Enid and Ellice into his home because they were family to Virginia. The assimilation had been difficult for the older woman, and he wasn’t certain about Ellice’s feelings. She was so quiet and self-effacing that if he asked her, she would probably say something like, “I’m quite happy, Macrath,” even if she were weeping.
From the beginning, however, Enid and Brianag had clashed. Now he had to do something.
He summoned a maid, gave her instructions and watched the flames while he waited.
When the knock came, he stood, walked around the desk and opened the door. Brianag and Enid were standing on the threshold.
Without saying a word, he returned to his desk, standing behind it. How long would they remain there before one of them gave way? The answer was two minutes. Then Brianag tilted her head, nodded toward Macrath, and stepped slightly to the right. Enid sailed into the room with a small triumphant smile.
“Ladies,” he said, gesturing toward the chairs on the other side of the room.
Neither sat. Instead, they stood in front of his desk, Brianag taller, Enid short and squat. Both women were equally determined.
“We need to solve this problem,” he said. “It’s one that affects everyone living at Drumvagen.” He looked at each of them in turn. “You’re making everyone miserable with your quarreling.”
Once more he gestured to the chairs in front of his desk, and this time they sat.
Brianag looked directly at him, her gaze flinty. Enid studied her fingers with the same fascination Alistair had exhibited as an infant.
He could send Enid back to London, but she didn’t have funds of her own to live a London life and had too much pride to take an income from him. He wasn’t going to fire Brianag. She’d made Drumvagen his home.
“What started this war?” he asked, wondering if either would answer him. When the silence stretched thin, he shook his head. “Then what escalated it? You were occasionally amenable to each other in the past, but in the last few months you’ve been sniping at each other constantly. Why?”
Enid was the one to look away.
“I need an answer,” he said, wondering if they realized how irritated he was becoming.
“The laundress ruined my brooch,” Enid said softly.
“Ach, and don’t you have enough nonsense to wear?” Brianag said. “You, with your brooches, your rings, your earrings.”
He sat back in the chair. Could it be this easy? Could they be jealous of each other?
“How did that happen?” he asked.
“Carelessness,” Brianag said. “The woman thinks the world waits for her, that we’re all here to do her bidding.” She turned and glared at Enid. “We’ve no lady’s maids waiting on you here.”
“I left it pinned to my dress,” Enid said. “I didn’t know the laundress was going to wash it.” She sent a fulminating look toward Brianag. “But you didn’t even let me talk to the woman.”
“Talk? You were shouting at her.”
“Why shouldn’t I shout?”
“Because she’s part of my staff, not yours. If she’s to be shouted at, I’ll be doing it.”
Macrath shook his head again, leaned back in his chair, folded his arms and regarded both of them.
“It wasn’t just any brooch,” Enid said in a small voice. “It was my mourning brooch for Eudora. It held a lock of her hair. Gone now.”
Brianag looked stricken, a rare occurrence to catch her in a moment of regret.
“Bessie lost her husband recently,” she said. “She would have seen it if she hadn’t been mourning herself.”
The two women shared a look, not of accord, but a measure of understanding.
Before they could get back to carping at each other, he said, “You’ve been working at cross purposes ever since Enid arrived. You, Brianag, have an intimate knowledge of Kinloch Village and the other villages beyond it. People respect you. I might even go so far as to say they revere you in certain ways.”
Brianag nodded, a small smile indicating that she approved of his comments.
“But Enid is the Dowager Countess of Barrett who managed her own staff in London. Have you never considered that the two of you working together could accomplish a great many things?”
Enid sent a look toward Brianag, one that he could only interpret as incredulous, while Brianag was staring at him as if he’d just sprouted two heads.
“Why not pool your knowledge? Why not write a book, perhaps, a guide to women who are managing their own households?”
“A book?” Enid said, her face taking on a rosy tint.
“A set of Scottish hints,” Brianag said.
Before she could continue on a nationalistic theme, he interrupted. “Both countries, ladies. A Scottish and English book compiled from the wisdom of two women well versed in the art of homemaking. We own a printing company. It wouldn’t be all that difficult to publish your book.”
In fact, it would be a monumental undertaking, but he was willing to fund the venture if it would make Drumvagen a happy place again.
He’d given them enough to think about. If that didn’t work, he’d have to come up with another way to end this feud that had turned his home into a battleground.
Now, to convince Mairi to form a publishing company. All in all, that was an easier task than getting Brianag and Enid to act in accord.
Logan was giving some thought to returning to Drumvagen to fetch Mairi home himself if she wasn’t back today. He could just imagine her reaction. She’d verbally box his ears and then probably refuse to see him again.
No, perhaps it was better to simply remain patient. A difficult process when he was counting the hours.
He’d become a source of amusement for her pressman. Allan always greeted him with a smile and a comment.
“She’s not here, Provost. Not today.”
He usually spent some time with the man, getting to know him and Fenella, who appeared more than once at the paper.
As Allan said, he was stupid in love with the girl, and that was evident to anyone halfheartedly paying attention. She obviously felt the same for him, nearly glowing in Allan’s presence.
He strode through the hallway, turned left into the pressroom, laughter lighting his way. When he entered, they turned to face him.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Harrison,” Fenella said. “But she’s not home yet. But I’m sure she will be soon.”
Did he look as disappointed as he felt? Evidently he did because she came to his side, reached out and patted his arm in a curiously maternal gesture.
“She really will return soon. She’s never gone more than two weeks without printing an edition.”
The paper would bring her back to Edinburgh. The paper and not him.
He looked around the room, at the overflowin
g bins, inhaling the complex scents, and wondering why this place had such a fascination for her.
“She loves it, doesn’t she?”
“She’s a newspaper person, Provost,” Allan said. “Ink’s in her blood. She tells people about their world.”
“And hides here,” Fenella added.
Allan glanced at her.
“It’s the truth,” she said. “As long as she’s reporting on something or writing a broadside, she’s happy.”
He didn’t like them talking about Mairi when she wasn’t here to defend herself, but most of all he didn’t like what Fenella was saying.
He didn’t want her content with her life. He didn’t want her happy without him.
He’d been elected Lord Provost, the culmination of a goal. He was planning on a future in Parliament. Only recently had he realized that all his plans were somehow not enough. A certain woman of fiery temperament was what he needed to complete his life and add spice to it.
Perhaps he should take advantage of this time and marshal his arguments, prepare his courtship, and make strategic plans for when she returned.
He was in love, and damn it all, as stupid with it as Allan had declared himself to be.
The only difference was that the pressman’s affections were returned.
The fact that he didn’t know how Mairi felt was the one flaw in all his plans.
Chapter 25
“They’re going to write a book?” Mairi asked. “And you’re going to publish it?”
“No,” Macrath said, grinning. “You’re going to publish it.”
Her eyes widened. “When am I going to have time to do that?”
“Make time,” he said.
“I’ve plans of my own, Macrath.” She’d been thinking about it over the last week.
She hadn’t taken advantage of being in Scotland’s capital by reporting on the political news of the day. Nor had she tried to convince readers of her own opinions and beliefs.
What if she did?
What if, instead of erring on the side of caution, and hoping to entice a broad group of subscribers, she narrowed the focus of the paper? What if the Edinburgh Gazette became the Edinburgh Women’s Gazette? What if she used the paper to promote women’s causes?
The Witch Of Clan Sinclair Page 22
