Rosalyn’s hands flew to her mouth. “She wouldn’t, would she? I mean, I’ve met her several times and she’s a fine young woman. Hardworking, honest…” She glanced at the men. “Now that I think about it, she never let me get too close to her…”
“Now you know why.” Duncan stood before her, arms crossed over his chest.
“There could be a legal way to handle this,” Geddes spoke.
Duncan reared up. “Don’t you think that’s just what she’s afraid of? That’s why she did nothing after the initial attempt. She knows we have the power and the money to do whatever we want to. Hell, it wouldn’t take much to convince a judge to let us have the boy; after all, he was raised in a brothel.”
Rosalyn sagged against the back of the chair. “Oh, dear.”
Fletcher came around the desk. “So let me understand this,” he began, his hands clasped together behind his back as he strolled the room. “Once the boy was born, she was reluctant to let us know about it for fear that we’d take him away from her. She concocted a story about a husband and father to the boy, who has believed, all these years, that his father is dead. Now she’s threatening to let some big red-haired goon adopt him and whisk him away to sea just to keep him away from you?”
“I know it sounds bad, but I truly believe they are empty threats. She’s so damned mad at me on so many levels; she’s bound to say anything to get my dander up.”
“Have you seen the boy? What’s his name?”
Ian’s face, smiling, handsome and happy, floated before him. “His name is Ian.”
“Ian. I like that. Does he look like you?” Rosalyn’s voice became soft and wistful.
“If he had, I might have noticed the likeness earlier, but I didn’t even when I saw him up close. Now, though, although his hair is a riot of reddish brown curls, I can see myself in his eyes and his mouth, maybe the cut of his cheekbones. And damned if he doesn’t have the same dimple in his cheek.”
“He doesn’t know about you?” Geddes asked.
“No. He still believes his father died in an accident with his horse.”
Rosalyn let out another gasp. “Well, he has to be told. How will the poor laddie feel about being lied to all these years?”
“Isobel has that same concern,” Duncan answered. “I told her I had to be with her with she told him the truth.”
After a quiet moment, Fletcher said, “I guess we shouldn’t be surprised you left a part of yourself behind. After all, I think you bedded most of the lassies on the island.”
Duncan winced. “You don’t have to remind me what a selfish bastard I was back then. I’ve often wondered if I was being punished for it.”
The three of them studied him.
Rosalyn stood, went to Duncan, and put her arm around his waist. “The God I love doesn’t punish people by taking away their happiness even if they’ve caused someone else pain in the past.”
At that moment Duncan knew that any involvement he had with his son in the future would also involve this family. He also knew he had to tread lightly, softly, and feared that even then his son might not want to believe the truth.
Chapter Seven
The following morning, Rosalyn went out into her rose garden, a place where she always felt at peace and could work through her thoughts. She was pruning a small bush that would yield gorgeous pink buds and eventually flower one day, when a shadow passed over her. She glanced up.
“Good morning, Fen, good morning, Ruby.”
Her friend and sister-in-law, Fenella Gordon, dressed in her trousers and a casual shirt, squatted down beside her. Ruby, the ‘sicky’ lamb Fen’s caretaker Reggie had adopted when its mother died, munched on nearby grass. Oddly, it had attached itself to Fen, although it stayed with Reggie in his rooms off the clinic.
“I hear there’s a storm abrewin’.” She exaggerated her own burr.
Rosalyn sat back on her haunches. “Of monumental proportions.” She watched the lamb graze. “Don’t you think it’s a bit odd to have a lamb for a pet?”
Fen shrugged. “Perhaps, but it’s really Reggie’s responsibility. I can’t help it that it follows me everywhere.” At the sound of Fen’s voice, Ruby looked up and bleated.
“You realize she’ll probably outlive you. Remember Harris the Road had one that lived to be nearly thirty years old?”
“Reggie and I will leave her in the care of your boys,” Fen promised.
“They’d love it. What does Geddes think of her?”
Fen tilted her head to one side. “He doesn’t care as long as she doesn’t end up tearing the clinic apart.”
“But she’s a lamb, Fen. She isn’t a dog. She can’t be trained.”
“You’d be surprised. Watch this. Ruby?” The lamb looked at her. “Ruby, sit.” The lamb nosed around in the grass, then plopped down, still looking at Fen. “Ruby? Come.” The lamb stood and made its way to Fen, nudging her pants pocket. Fen pulled out a treat and tossed it in the air. Ruby caught it and ate it. “Good girl,” Fen cooed.
Rosalyn was impressed. “I guess I could be trained too if I knew there was a treat at the end.”
“Ocht, you’ve been trained, don’t think you haven’t.” The innuendo hung in the air between them.
Rosalyn touched her fingers to her chin and gave her a wicked grin. “Hmmm. You might be right.” They laughed together. “And how about you, Fen?”
Before Fen and Geddes fell in love, they were as different as two people could be. Fen, always dressed in trousers and blousy shirts, her curly hair cropped close to her head, brooked no nonsense from anyone. As a nurse in the Crimea, she had seen every hideous thing that man could do to man.
Geddes, on the other hand, was quiet, straight laced, meticulous in his habits, and a bit of a chauvinist when it came to women. He and Rosalyn had many arguments about Fen in the beginning.
“I’m not sure who trained who, but I won’t deny my life has never been so good,” she admitted. She was quiet a moment, then added, “One of my patients told me they have hired a new minister to replace Vicar Fleming.”
Rosalyn looked up. “Who?”
“That I don’t know. But,” she added cryptically, “I do know he comes from America.”
“Really? How very interesting. One has to wonder why a parson from America would want to have a little kirk on a small island off Scotland.”
“Oh, Roz, everyone knows this is paradise.” Fen’s voice was filled with sarcasm.
Rosalyn raised her eyebrows. “Back to the brewing storm.” Fen had learned the whole story from Geddes when he returned home the night before.
“Ah yes: the school and the prodigal son. As for the school, I don’t get called there too often; they usually call Doc Mac.”
Rosalyn had been relieved when they finally got another doctor, for Fen had worked herself nearly ill during the time they didn’t have one. “Well, this whole thing is such a shock. Imagine. There’s a laddie on this very island whose father is my brother-in-law and I’ve never seen hide or hair of him. Fen, he’s my nephew.”
“I imagine the young woman had good reason to think she must keep things secret.”
Rosalyn studied her roses, absently plucking off dried leaves. “But you and I both know she has nothing to worry about. Nor would she ever have had.”
“So dear old Barnaby sealed their fate.” Fen let out a mild chuckle. “Who would have thought he could cause such a ruckus.”
“Barnaby is a loyal servant. No matter what he may have thought personally, if he even did think about it, he has always protected the family. Oh, I know he’s a dotty old soul, and he’s certainly not going to get better—in fact, his memory worsens every day—but perhaps we are at fault. We should never have left him in charge.”
“Wasn’t there anyone else here at all?”
Rosalyn took her handkerchief from her apron pocket and dabbed at her face. “Oh, let me think.” Suddenly she remembered. “It was Geddes.”
Fen straightened. “My G
eddes?”
“Yes, yes, but Barnaby was instructed to contact Geddes if there was any trouble, and obviously he must have forgotten the incident the moment he closed the door on them. And I know Geddes came by nearly every day to check things out and make sure everything was running smoothly.”
Fen appeared deep in thought. “Can you imagine what might have happened if Geddes had been alerted to them?”
“What would he have done, do you think?”
“Knowing Geddes, he would have gotten to the bottom of the situation. And he would have reported back to the duke, a thorough investigation would have been made, and when the bairn was born, we’d all have studied him closely to see if there was a resemblance. Frightening the young mother into wishing she’d never said anything at all.”
Rosalyn tucked her handkerchief into her pocket. “Yes, I suppose. But you’re not taking into consideration the mindset of the young woman. From what I understand, she’s strong willed, leery of the lot of us, and very proud. Since she’d been turned away once, she may not have been interested in what either Fletcher or Geddes had to tell her. I dare say I wouldn’t have been too keen on it after having the grand door shut in my face once.”
Fen stood and brushed off her trousers. “It’s water under the bridge now, that’s for certain. But,” she added, a sly smile on her lips, “I’d like to be a fly on the wall as this situation continues.”
Rosalyn gave Fen a sad smile. “Poor Duncan. ’Tis one thing to learn you have a nine-year-old son, and another to learn the mother of your child is threatening to let another fellow adopt him.”
“Do you think she would do that? Out of spite?”
“I honestly don’t think so. I’ve met her a few times, tried to be more helpful to her as she copes with the school situation, and although she isn’t forthcoming with me, I don’t think she’s vindictive.”
“Do you suppose she’s using the threat to rope Duncan into marry her?”
Rosalyn was appalled at the thought. “Nae, she isn’t like that. I don’t know what their relationship was, but knowing Duncan, when he was seventeen all he thought about was himself. Fletcher nearly tore his hair out worrying over whether or not we’d see his likeness in some of the young ones on the island. Surprisingly, we never did. Apparently Isobel and her aunt were very careful to keep the bairn hidden until they could send him off to school on the mainland.”
“Duncan always was a charmer.” Fen helped Rosalyn to her feet. “He seems to have settled down quite a lot. The trip to America must have been good for him.”
“It gave him a world of responsibility that he never acknowledged before. And apparently he did a grand job managing the ranch.”
“Did he ever tell you much about his life in Texas?”
“We would hear from him periodically, mainly to update the state of the ranch, the cattle, the wheat, the horses. Only now and then would he allude to a private life.” Rosalyn placed the trowel into the bucket beside her, brushed off her apron, and gazed up at the castle windows, noting with a bit of weariness that they needed washing. She couldn’t let Mattie do them all by herself, and she didn’t trust the maids to do a good job. “I have the feeling a great deal happened to him that we may never know about.”
She turned her gaze on Fen. “Anyway, about Isobel. I think you should make her a little visit. Make up an excuse if you have to, like inquiring about the children and asking if they need anything. See what you think about the mother of Duncan’s child.”
Fen nodded absently. “Maybe I’ll do just that.” With that, Fen walked off, Ruby stepping lightly by her side.
• • •
The afternoon weather spelled gloom, the clouds resembling dirty laundry tumbling from the heavens. Isobel shivered and moved closer to the fire, wishing she dared use more coal with the peat. But coal was expensive. Peat was everywhere. Moments earlier she had heard the children leave the classroom, no doubt anxious to get out into the fresh air. Children didn’t seem to care whether the sun was shining or not; they simply wanted to be outside. Had she been like that? She couldn’t remember not having chores or lessons. To run and play had been for other children, not her. She could remember pressing her face to the window and watching children roll hoops past the brothel, longing to join them, only to hear Paula’s voice calling her from somewhere, asking her if she’d finished her chores or her lessons.
Ian was off somewhere with Hamish, who had promised to be the lad’s close guardian until Isobel and Duncan could talk with him. She had just finished darning one of her threadbare petticoats when Lily rushed into the room carrying Fifi.
“I think there’s something wrong with her,” she announced.
“What happened?”
“She just keeps scratching her ear, like she’s trying to dig deeper into it. She’s even drawn blood. I looked inside her ear, but all I could see was the redness she’d already made with her nails.”
Fifi whined and tried to squirm loose as Lily held her. “What can we do?”
Isobel understood Lily’s concern. After all, Fifi was all that she had. “Have you talked with Delilah?”
Lily looked embarrassed. “I haven’t. I’m afraid she might tell me it’s high time to get rid of my pup.”
“Do you really think she’d say that?”
“I don’t know. Most of the time I can tell she’s more bluster than anything, but with Fifi, I’m sure she’s serious.”
“Who’s serious about what?” Delilah’s girth filled the doorway.
Lily cuddled the dog closer to her chest. “Oh, it’s nothing, Fifi’s ear is red, and that’s all.”
“She need a doctor?”
Both Lily and Isobel laughed. “Be serious, Delilah.”
“I’m serious as sauce. We don’t have the doctor, but in the parlor is that nurse, Mrs. Gordon. She’s here to see ye, Izzy.” She threw a glance at Lily. “Maybe she can take a look at the mutt.”
• • •
Fen studied the room. It was clean and comfortable, if quite bare. Once, years ago, she had been here when it was a brothel to treat one of the girls who, unfortunately, had developed a bad case of pneumonia. Fen could not save her.
She heard footsteps approaching and two women, one holding a small dog, stepped into the room.
The one she knew to be the owner stepped forward. “Mrs. Gordon? This is a nice surprise. What can I do for you?”
Fen studied her. The woman had a rare kind of beauty. “Well—” Fen wasn’t even sure what to call her.
“Isobel,” she prompted with a warm smile.
“Isobel. I had thought to come here to make sure all of the children were fine and that none of them needed my attention. And if you do need anything like that, I’d be happy to help. But, the real reason I’m here is that it appears that on the return of one Duncan MacNeil, a storm of enormous proportions is about to erupt.” She tried to make her words lighter than the picture they evoked.
Something flashed in Isobel’s eyes, and she brought her hand, which Fen noticed was red and work worn, to her chest. She tossed a quick glance at the other woman. “Oh, pardon my manners. Mrs. Gordon, may I present Lily Varga? She’s helping me with the children.”
The woman was actually little more than a girl. Another beauty. Hair the color of dark honey, eyes a purplish-blue, like the bluebells of Scotland. Her skin was fair; she had been in the sun, for her nose was a little sunburned. She smiled at the girl, and then looked at the dog. “Is something wrong with your pup’s ear?”
Lily gasped. “Yes. How did you know?”
Fen reached out to the dog. It sniffed her fingers. “I don’t have any formal training with animals, but I’ve treated a few in my time. This little fellow is moving his head around as if trying to rid himself of something.”
“It’s Fifi. She’s a girl.”
Fen studied the pup. “Fifi. Do you mind if I look at her ear?”
“No. Not at all.”
Fen gently pulled the f
loppy ear away from the pup’s head and glanced inside, noting the redness. “How long has she been like this?”
“Since yesterday. She was out romping in the woods with some of the children. Ever since she returned, she’s been digging at her ear.”
Fen always carried a few supplies with her. From her back pocket she drew out a small pair of tweezers. Before going to the pup’s ear, she scratched her chin and crooned her name, hoping to settle the pup down before she went in. “You will hold onto her good and tight, won’t you?”
“Of course.” Lily then bent down and nuzzled the pup’s other ear, talking in soft soothing tones.
Fen went into the affected ear with the tweezers and almost immediately found what she was looking for. She plucked it out and showed it to Lily. “She had a briar embedded in there. She’ll be fine, but I suggest you take a cloth and wash her ear out with warm water. I have some salve in my bag in the buggy; I’ll get you some before I leave. Pups with long, floppy ears often have ear trouble. This could very easily happen again.”
A very grateful Lily hustled away with her dog firmly in her arms.
“How very kind of you,” Isobel said.
Fen felt motherly warmth for the girl. The emotion surprised her. She’d never really been the maternal sort, except for Ruby. “I do things like that without thinking,” Fen admitted. “Now, where were we?”
Isobel released a long sigh. “You mentioned something about a storm and Lord Duncan MacNeil.”
Fen spread her hands in a defensive manner. “I’m not here to stick my nose into anyone’s business. All I want to say is that you have nothing to fear from the MacNeils. They are fine, generous people. Rosalyn has admitted to me many times that she wished she could do more to help you with the school, but you’ve seemed reluctant.” She gave Isobel a side long glance. “Maybe now we all know why.”
Isobel’s cheeks reddened further. “Yes. I will admit I’ve been wary of them ever since the day my aunt and I were so abruptly dismissed at the castle door.”
“No one is sorrier than Rosalyn that happened,” Fen stated. “If you had returned when they were home—”
The Scoundrel's Pleasure Page 9
