“You’re more interested in Scotland than your Father’s trading empire, aren’t you?”
“I’ve never had any interest in that.” Gavin paused suddenly and looked at Sara, an arrested expression on his face. “I really don’t know. I’ve never had anything to do with his business.”
“Why?”
“My father keeps everything firmly in his own control. I couldn’t work with him in any event, but I did enjoy planning the mining operation and working out the arrangements with contractors and agents in Glasgow and Edinburgh. I admit I wasn’t always thinking just of the poor Scots.” An unwelcome thought seemed to cheat him of his pleasure. “I seem to be growing more like my father every day.”
“Not in the ways that count,” Sara said, determined his old hobgoblins would not deprive him of his well-earned satisfaction.
“What do you mean?”
“You may enjoy the work for its own sake, but no matter how much it means to you, you always have the good of others as your reason for doing it. It’s just like your relationship with me.” Gavin immediately looked uncomfortable. “No matter how much you resent your father’s forcing you to marry me, you’ve still managed to take my feelings into consideration. I know it hasn’t been easy.”
Sara’s compliments made Gavin feel like a heel. He had been gentle with her, but he hadn’t done it out of love; it was probably equal amounts of salving his own conscience and common consideration for another person caught in an awkward situation. Yet it was obvious in everything she did, in all she said, that his happiness was uppermost in her mind.
Now he had brought her to his home—her home, too—and had virtually ordered her not to touch anything. Yet here she was trying to convince him he wasn’t like his father. Wasn’t his treatment of her the worst indictment of all? Gavin swore under his breath. The least he could do would be to approach everything with the same open, uncondemning attitude she had toward him. If he wanted to prove himself different from his father, if he wanted to justify her faith in him, he must behave differently, and he could start by accepting the change in dinner time. After all, he had complained about it himself for years.
Mary announced dinner.
“Let’s go in,” Gavin said, offering his arm to Sara. “You’ve got a long day ahead of you tomorrow. By the time Mary gets through showing you over the whole place, you’ll be too tired to suggest any changes, and I’ll still be dining in full daylight come spring.” An errant thought amused him. “Wouldn’t Cousin Hawley be pleased to know that.”
Sara took the arm offered and went into dinner, her feet almost floating on air. She understood that Gavin was giving her tacit approval to make any changes she wanted, and her heart beat with gladness. If he could accept her into his home and turn over its management to her, even though he knew she had no experience and might make an incredible muddle of things, then he must care for her after all.
But later that night, Sara wondered if anything had changed after all. She had waited up for Gavin until midnight, when she heard him enter his chamber next to hers. Hoping that his staying away from her bed the second night in Edinburgh meant nothing, she waited, her excitement building as she remembered every detail of that first night, the tension increasing as she experienced again the incredible revelation of his lovemaking, hope growing that he might someday learn to love her at least a little.
But he did not come. His valet left, the light coming from under the door went out, and all was quiet in his room. Sara didn’t need to hear the soft sounds of his breathing to know that he would not come.
Sara cried herself to sleep.
But Gavin was not asleep. He lay awake until the grey dawn pierced the black night, his body stiff with desire, his mind a battlefield between raging, tumultuous passion and the iron manacles of rigid restraint. The struggle left him limp and dismayed, for he knew he was losing the struggle against physical desire and unquenchable hope. It took every ounce of willpower he could summon to remain in his bed, not to walk the short distance that separated his room from hers, not to give way before the memory of the wonderful fulfillment he found in her arms.
But he wouldn’t give in. He couldn’t. To do so would be to risk falling in love, and he was dangerously close already. He was being seduced by her kindness, her thoughtfulness, and her undeniably genuine caring. How could he not fall in love with a sensuous, beautiful, desirable woman, when it seemed that her every thought was for his happiness?
But to fall in love would be to render himself powerless, just as his mother had been powerless, and Gavin had sworn over and over again that he would never ever give anyone the capability of hurting him as his father had hurt his mother. It didn’t matter that Sara said she loved him—he hadn’t wanted her to fall in love with him, and in the beginning he had even tried to be so cruel she would hate him—he couldn’t let that delude him into thinking he would be safe from the furies that would chain his soul to an altar of everlasting bondage. He must preserve his freedom at all costs, even if it cost him the only chance he would ever have to find the kind of love that could free his life of the hates and guilt that had hung over him like a perpetual cloud.
He told himself that Sara’s love and kindness were only an enticement to lure him into the snare of love, that many a man had been deceived by a woman, only to end up losing his soul, but he knew it was only a matter of time before he passed through that door. No matter what bitter experience told him, as long as he was alive, he would dream, and Sara was at the heart of his dreams.
Chapter 17
“We’ll never get this place running like a real English house,” Betty complained, as she brushed Sara’s hair, “not as long as you keep these dratted Scots about.”
“We’re in Scotland,” Sara reminded her with an amused grin. “Who do you propose we use for servants?”
“Anybody would be better than these shifty-eyed rascals,” Betty said sternly. “They look at me out of the corner of their eyes like they expect me to grow a second head any minute. And all the time they’re jabbering away in a language no Christian can understand.”
“It is a little hard to understand Gaelic.”
“They could speak plain English, if they wanted. They just use it as an excuse to get out of anything they don’t want to do.”
“You must try to be more understanding,” Sara said soothingly. “I imagine your size does intimidate them a little.”
“They’ve had enough time to have gotten accustomed to Goliath himself,” Betty said stringently. “They can’t go on forever acting like I’m a freak.”
“You are a little hard on them. You must try to have more patience.”
“More patience!” Betty exclaimed, so indignant the brush stopped in mid-stroke. “How long is it going to take them to learn to act like god-fearing Englishmen?”
“Probably not half as long as it will take me to learn their ways,” Sara said with a fatalistic sigh. “There are times I feel like I’m in a foreign country.”
“It won’t get any better, until you get rid of that Mary Campbell and take over things yourself.”
“I can’t do that. You know I depend on her.”
“You’ll never get the respect you deserve when they can go sneaking off to her, chattering away so nobody can tell what they’re up to, and then before you know, it’s done and can’t be undone.”
“Mary consults with me about everything she does. She even shows me the menus, though I’m not always perfectly sure what I’m going to see when I get to the table”
“Lord, yes, and I thought the Frenchies ate funny.”
“I’ve got all the responsibility I want just now. The rest will come in its own time. And you must remember this is Lord Carlisle’s home as well. He wouldn’t like it if I changed everything all at once.”
“But he’s lived in London for years.”
“True, but he loves Scotland for all its imperfections, and you have to remember that.”
“That
Mr. Fraser wouldn’t have you living like they did a thousand years ago. He would tell you to do as you liked.”
“Then you must be certain to tell his wife, whenever he chooses one,” Sara said rising. “I’m sure she’ll be glad of the information. I know,” Sara said when Betty started to protest, “but I’m married to Lord Carlisle, not Mr. Fraser, and I’m happy about it.”
Betty looked disgusted. “When I think—”
“Don’t! Just remember that I’m happy and be glad for me.”
But as Sara walked down the long corridor, her look of contentment faded and a crease settled on her brow. Gavin was joining her for dinner tonight, a circumstance which was rare, and she was nervous about meeting him. It seemed silly when she admitted it, but even though they were married and living in the same house, she saw so little of him she felt as if he were a stranger. The thought that she would have been more comfortable with someone she didn’t know, and who had no claim on her affections, crossed her mind more than once.
She was happy as Gavin’s wife, and she had enjoyed becoming familiar with the household routine and planning a few minor adjustments, but the barrier between them was still in place. Gavin was allowing her to enter his life, rather than inviting her to become part of it. The situation wouldn’t have been much different if he had hired a new housekeeper instead of bringing home a wife. And he had become even more distant since they arrived at Estameer. He talked to her quite agreeably when they met, but they had dined together only twice in the past week and slept together not at all. If Sara had entertained any doubt about his reluctance to make her part of his life, the fact that he had not come to her room since they arrived at Estameer erased it.
There was no indication that she had angered him, but through a lot of little things—all probably unconscious on his part—he had made it clear that he did not expect her to understand anything about being Scottish or being in Scotland. It had taken Sara a few days to figure out what was happening, but when she spoke to Gavin, he reacted with surprise, protested that he hadn’t meant to give her that impression, promised to be more forthcoming in the future, and then proceeded to act the same as before.
Sara decided something had to be done, but it was clear a direct attack would not work. It took her two days to decide what to do.
Gavin eyed Sara hungrily when she entered the parlor, and she smiled with inward satisfaction. She had given a lot of consideration to her gown tonight. If Gavin was going to stay away from her, whatever his reasons might be, she was determined he would suffer for it.
“You never got that at Miss Rachel’s nunnery,” he observed, the gleam in his eyes showing his appreciation.
“No,” she replied with a demure laugh. “It was part of my bride clothes. My trunks arrived from London today. At least now I can look presentable.”
“You always do.”
“I mean for other women. They always expect more than men.”
“Other women?” Gavin stumbled, only half-listening to her words. “Why would you worry about them?”
“I thought we could have a party, some kind of entertainment, probably with dinner and dancing, to introduce me to your neighbors.”
“I should have thought of that,” Gavin said instantly.
“Men never do,” Sara said, with a smile which showed how relieved she was Gavin had accepted her idea.
“Still …”
“You can atone by helping me make out the guest list,” Sara said, as they rose in response to the; summons to dinner. “I don’t know your neighbors, or really very much about Scotland.”
They were dining at six-thirty—still too early by Sara’s calculations—but Gavin said nothing, even though Sara knew he was aware of the change.
Sara was aware of Gavin’s eyes on her all during the meal. She had decided after the first night to give up her place at the foot of the table, and had ordered her plate set on his right. It had been to no avail since he was absent most evenings, but she was glad of it tonight. Dinner was much more companionable and friendly, even if he would probably disappear immediately afterwards and seek his own bed well after midnight.
Sara wanted to ask him why he stayed away from her. He obviously wanted her, enough so that she could see it. She didn’t know if her face showed it, but her body wanted him as well. She had enjoyed only one night in his arms, but that night had convinced her that everything Letty Brown had said was true. Having virtually forced her to this point, it seemed an unusually cruel twist of fate that Gavin should now eschew her bed.
Gavin did not know what he had just eaten. His entire concentration was on Sara and his own body, which virtually screamed for the release which only she could provide. It was all he could do to look at her and not choke on his food. Desire, naked and unleashed, rampaged through his body, causing his muscles to tense, his nerve endings to become acutely sensitive, and his limbs to tremble. He made a determined effort to appear at his ease and talk quite naturally, but he was utterly miserable, and he was sure it showed.
He had known from the beginning it would be a mistake to dine with Sara, but the hunger just to be in her company had grown almost beyond his ability to control it. No matter how much he busied himself with the estate, supervising the mining operations, or lobbying with the clans, Sara was never far from his thoughts. Neither the press of work nor the strain of physical exhaustion could long keep his thoughts from straying to her, and to that indescribable night in Edinburgh. He dreamed of her constantly, and would wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat of desire. She invaded every thought, every deed, every moment of his life. She was rapidly becoming an obsession.
“I must be going,” Gavin said, rising abruptly from the table.
“You’re going out again tonight?”
“It takes every minute I can spare to keep the undecided clans from joining the rebellion. I haven’t been able to convince them that the prince’s cause is hopeless, but if I can just keep them hesitating long enough, maybe the fighting will be over before they can get themselves killed.” It was what he would do when he left, but he left because he couldn’t remain in the same room with Sara and not make love to her.
“Why should you be the one to try to save Scotland? You’ll wear yourself out. You’ve been gone every night for weeks.” She could hardly tell him any more directly that she wanted him home with her, but he only withdrew all the more hurriedly.
“There’s no one else they trust. Even though I’ve spent more time in England than I have at Estameer, they know my first loyalty is to Scotland.”
“And they will listen to you?”
“Yes, but not willingly. Most suspect they can’t win, but the prince has had nothing but victories so far. I’ve told them over and over they haven’t met Cumberland and the full army, but they don’t see that will make a difference. Cumberland is no less determined than Hawley to destroy the clan system, even though he may not be as cruel.”
“Shall I wait up for you?” She asked that question every night, and the answer was always the same. She told herself not to humiliate herself over and over again, but it was important to her that Gavin know that she wanted to be with him. Besides, she couldn’t help it. There was always the chance that he would say yes.
“No. I’ll be late.”
She gritted her teeth to keep from showing her disappointment. She refused to add to his burdens when he was doing everything he could to save as many men as possible from the bloodbath he foresaw, but she felt some of the energy go out of her body, and the smile on her lips became wooden.
“Ask Mary to help you with the list. I’ll go over it with you later, but she knows as much about who to invite and what they would like to eat and drink as anyone,” Gavin said. “You can depend on her.”
I will not, Sara swore to herself. I’ll do everything myself. Then at least I’ll know whether I’m worthy to live in your beloved house in your beloved Scotland. Maybe Betty was right, she thought as she stumbled up the st
airs, just as determined to keep the tears from her eyes in front of Betty as she was before Gavin. Maybe there was nothing under that crust but a cold unfeeling heart. Maybe she was doing all this for nothing. Maybe he wasn’t capable of love.
But she remembered the night she had spent in his arms in Edinburgh, and knew that wasn’t so. Something had cut him off from her, was blocking her approach to him. She knew that if only she could find the key, somewhere inside him there was an entirely different man with an infinite capacity for love. And she would find it some day, but she was beginning to wonder if she would still care.
Gavin surveyed the men gathered around him, their bodies torpid from feasting and their faces flushed with drink, and was almost tempted to leave and go back home to Sara. He could still see her as she had appeared at dinner, and he had to hold on to his chair to keep from leaping to his feet and calling for his horse. Even to sit with her, to be able to watch her as she worked her needlepoint, or listen as she played the harpsichord, would have been a balm to his lacerated soul. He knew that to spend a whole evening with Sara was inviting disaster, but he didn’t care anymore. There were times when he thought he would willingly mortgage his soul for a few hours spent in her arms.
Gavin had been at his most persuasive this evening. He had come to the Fraser clan, to Ian’s father to be precise, but his words had fallen on deaf ears. Donald Fraser, the old laird, was just as committed to the prince as his son, and nothing could sway him. Why did he keep trying? Why did he think he could change, in a few months, loyalties that went back hundreds, maybe even thousands, of years.
“It’s no use being faithful to the Stuarts, when it’s going to ruin your clan,” he had argued in utter frustration.
“And ‘tis no good yer telling me tae turn my back on my loyalties,” Donald Fraser had replied. “Tis the same as telling me tae turn my back on me own people.”
“They may eat you out of house and home, but they won’t get you killed. Why persist in a lost cause?”
Sweet Temptation Page 20
