Questions for a Highlander

by Angeline Fortin

  Dizzy from both joy and his impulsive twirl, Abby shook her head as his words sunk in. “Must we, Richard?”

  “Why wouldn’t we?”

  “I needn’t have his consent,” Abby said.

  Richard frowned doubtfully. “Are you ashamed to marry me, Abby?”

  “Never!” Abby said fiercely. “I would shout it from the rooftops and if you were to remain here with me for the aftermath of it all, I would do it gladly. I could face anything with you! However, if Oona knew that we wed, we would have no chance of keeping the secret and I don’t relish the thought of facing the gossip and scandal on my own.”

  “Come with me then.”

  Abby’s heart leapt at his offer. How wonderful it would be to travel with him, to be by his side… if the purpose of their journey was anything other than what it was. There was no chance that she could go with him now. She would only slow them down or, even worse, distract Richard from his purpose and she told him so.

  Richard considered Abby’s words. If they wed openly and she came with him, the scandal might die down before they returned. And now that the thought was there, he couldn’t imagine leaving her behind. She had given him so much of what his life was lacking – peace, love. Even contentment. He wanted to carry that with him. Forever.

  Caressing her cheek softly, Richard met her vivid eyes, seeing in them a future filled with life. He smiled at the thought.

  But, on the other hand, she was right. A trek through the desert with its harsh climes and conditions was no place for a lady. And she had already proven herself to be a most pleasant distraction. For the sake of his mission and the urgency of it, he would need to leave her behind. The thought pierced his heart with a tender ache but there was also hope. It would be weeks or even months before he saw her again but through it all, there would be so much to look forward to when he returned. “I will miss you, angel.”

  “And I will miss you,” she told him, hugging him once more.

  They stood in one another’s embrace for a while, thinking of the future and what it held. Finally Abby sighed. “Suppose we should go. That silence in the front hall is a bit too ominous don’t you think?”

  Richard squeezed her one last time before releasing her.

  Abby turned, then paused looking back at Richard, mischievously. “You know, now that I think on it, you didn’t actually ask me to marry you.”

  His chest shook with silent laughter. “No, I don’t suppose I did.”

  Abby waited but no more words were forthcoming. “Are you going to?”

  Richard laughed again with a shrug. “You’ve always liked to be the one in charge before, are you sure you don’t want to do this as well?”

  Abby wasn’t one who couldn’t laugh at herself. She was very aware of what her faults were and it pleased her that Richard wouldn’t be one to take offense, but rather tease her about them. Casting him a saucy look, Abby started to drop to one knee only to squeal with laughter when Richard grasped her around her waist, lifting her into the air.

  He held her above him for a moment, his grin wide with humor and affection. Then he lowered himself down until her feet touched the ground just as he fell to one knee, taking her hand. “Abygail Patrice Merrill…”

  “You’re five minutes are long over!” Haddington pounded at the door. “What is going on in there?”

  Richard stood just as the door burst open. As much as he wanted to do the proper thing and ask Abby’s father for her hand in marriage, he knew he must respect Abby’s opinion as well as her logic that such an event would never remain a secret if Oona ever learned of it. The time would come for him to do those things. To make his courtship and marriage a public one. “Nothing, sir. Just saying goodbye.” Squeezing Abby’s hand one last time, he released her and bowed. “Lady Abygail, tomorrow afternoon then?”

  Abby blinked before she understood what he was asking her. “Yes, I shall see at Grandmamma’s and we shall… have tea.”

  Richard smiled. “Tea, it is.”

  Chapter 34

  The pain of parting is nothing to the joy of meeting again.

  - Charles Dickens, Nicholas Nickleby

  Portsmouth, England

  Two days later

  The battleship that would carry Richard and Francis to Egypt was currently the capital ship assigned the task of patrolling the Suez Canal. It was the pride of the Royal Navy. Richard knew he owed the Prince of Wales his thanks for securing them passage into Egypt. He only wished that there had been another ship available rather than the HMS Devastation.

  He couldn’t help feel that the name was a prophetic one, but wasn’t certain which part of his life it would apply more aptly to. Devastation was what he had felt when parting Abby’s company early that morning to board the train for Portsmouth.

  They had wed the previous afternoon in Belgrave Square with only the bishop Francis had summoned, her grandparents, Francis and Jack to witness the occasion. The ceremony had been spare, lacking all the frills Richard knew any lady dreamed of. He regretted that he hadn’t been able to give that to Abby. He’d even had two of his close friends there, while Abby had no one. There hadn’t been time for Moira to come from Scotland and, though Abby’s friend, Eve, who was now the Countess of Shaftesbury, was invited from Dorset to act as her maid of honor, the countess had sent her regrets citing the recent birth of her son.

  Though Abby had denied any disappointment with the entire affair, Richard swore that when he returned he would deliver a courtship and wedding extravagant enough to make Abby the envy of London. Of course, there would never be another wedding night to best the one they had had. Lady Boughton, much to all the other men’s chagrin, had provided a lavish bridal suite for them. They’d had dinner and even danced to the Blue Danube Waltz courtesy of the music box Abby’s grandmother had provided.

  Since the box contained many other scrolls, they had also made love to Mendelssohn’s Symphony No. 3. Having never had a passionate encounter set to the sound of music, Richard would forever remember how they had followed the music. The initial passion of the first movement had whetted their appetites before becoming playfully passionate for the second. The languid power of the third before the fourth sent them to the finale.

  It was a memory that he would relive again and again. However, with his vivid recall of the night, he would also remember the desperation with which she had clung to him. It was a desperation he had shared. He hadn’t wanted to let her go, and had held her tightly in his arms until the last moment. It had torn him apart to leave her, and though he knew she had put on a brave façade to send him off, he had seen the tears in her eyes.

  To his surprise he had felt the sting of tears in his own eyes as she had waved him off. It had been just a pair of weeks since they had met once more. Though he had confessed that he thought there was much between them that was worth exploring, Richard couldn’t quite comprehend how Abby had come to mean so much to him in such a short amount of time.

  But he had needed to leave her, to look to an immediate future where he only foresaw more opportunity where the ship’s name might come to bear. For devastation was what he felt when he thought about what he would discover in the days and weeks to come. Richard was glad that he had Francis with him as they ventured to the unknown, that he wouldn’t face this challenge – where he felt more pessimism than optimism – alone. His fears were shared ones but together they would also share a determination to do everything within their power to find his lost comrades.

  Richard and Francis were escorted below decks by a young seaman to the cramped quarters that they would share on this journey. The small room had been given up to them by a pair of junior officers who would be bunking with the rest of the crew for the short trip. Together, he and his brother, both large men, crowded the cabin that was barely large enough for the meager furnishings that already occupied it. They were not even able to both stand at the same time without bumping shoulders. It was a far cry from the sort of accommodations the
Earl of Glenrothes was used to, though Richard had often been transported in such sparse fashion over the past several years.

  “You mind if I take the bottom bunk?” Francis asked with a wry smile after a long moment of silence during which his expression had changed from surprise to dismay.

  “Don’t think you can handle the heights, old man?” Richard asked lightly.

  “Not at all, it’s simply that I’ve never slept on such a narrow slab before,” Francis responded with a half-hearted grin. “I’d simply like the fall, when it comes, to be a short one.”

  Richard couldn’t help but grin. “You get used to it.”

  Francis just snorted. “I rather doubt that.”

  They stowed their bags in the small wardrobe provided before Francis dropped down on the lower bunk and Richard took a seat at the only chair the room provided. A horn blasted above them, signaling the beginning of their journey, and moments later the humming vibration of the steam engines changed, roaring to life, and the ironclad battleship convulsed into motion.

  They were underway.

  “Did you notice that there wasn’t even a mast above?” Francis said. “No back up sails if the engine fails.”

  Realizing that his brother was making small talk, Richard said only. “You need to get out of Glen Cairn more often, old man. This ship is more than a dozen years in service.”

  “The ships of Her Majesty’s Royal Navy are not exactly my forte,” Francis responded, adding, “The Devastation.”

  Richard nodded, knowing that Francis saw much more than he ever let on. “Let us hope that it’s not a omen of things to come.”

  With a grimace, Francis reached into his coat and withdrew a small flask. “Let’s drink to that.” Unscrewing the cap, he took a short swig before handing it to Richard.

  Richard took a drink, feeling the burn of the fine Scotch as it made its way down his throat before hitting his stomach. The nerves that had been racking his gut all morning settled, and with some satisfaction, he took another swallow before handing it back.

  They fell into silence as they passed the flask back and forth. The sound of the engines rumbled beneath them. It was an intrusive yet somehow comforting pulsation.

  Releasing a huff of rueful laughter, Richard finally said, shaking his head, “Not exactly how I imagined spending my honeymoon.”

  “Did you ever imagine having a honeymoon at all?” Francis asked with a sardonic chuckle.

  Richard couldn’t help but join him. The entire situation was quite beyond anything he’d ever envisioned for his future. His brother’s marriage had left a sour taste in his mouth for the whole institution, but on the other hand, unlike some of his younger siblings, Richard remembered his parent’s marriage. He remembered what it could be if two people wanted it badly enough. He did, Richard realized, and he wanted that with Abby.

  They had made a good start – a hasty beginning, to be sure, but a good one – and he could only hope the future would be as kind to him. Only time would tell for certain.

  “You know,” Richard said after a long while of brotherly camaraderie, “there was a moment there, a moment when all the problems, worries, fears… everything faded away and I was left with nothing more than a moment of contentment, joy even. Do you know what I mean?”

  A look crossed his brother’s face then, softening it as if he were recalling some distant but pleasant memory. Richard couldn’t recall ever seeing look of such peace on Francis’s face. “Aye, I do, Richard. I do understand what you mean.”

  “It just happened too fast, though,” Richard added. “I feel like it can’t be real. Such a feeling of… an attachment of that sort short should take time. Don’t you think?”

  To Richard’s surprise, Francis shook his head. “It can happen in a day, I think. In a single moment.” Feeling Richard’s curious gaze on him, Francis chuckled softly. “There was a lass I met once. Years ago, in fact. Och, but she was a bonny thing, Richard. You have no idea. I literally ran into her on the street… well, she ran into me at any rate. I gave her my hand to help her up and just knew. It was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before.”

  “What happened?” Richard asked after a long pause. The joy and peace that had flooded his brother’s expression had faded into sorrow.

  Francis chuckled humorlessly. “What do you think happened? I was married. I had no choice but to let her go.”

  Richard felt his brother’s pain then, felt his own heart tense in a tight ache. He’d never known any of this, never heard Francis talk of woman that way. He’d thought that Vanessa had stripped Francis of any tender sentiment. “Perhaps once the divorce is finalized…”

  “I wouldn’t even begin to know where to find her,” Francis said dully. “You’ve a chance, Richard, that I never had. I’ve seen how Abby looks at you and how you look at her. You have a chance to…” Francis broke off, leaving Richard to wonder what he had been about to say. “You’ve simply a chance. Don’t wait to long to embrace it or you might miss it.”

  “I’m doing what I have to do,” Richard responded defensively. Surely, Francis agreed that saving Vin, Jace and the others must come first? “Besides, Abby said she’d wait if she had to.”

  “What choice did she have?” Francis argued, then shrugged. “You never know what life will bring, Richard. I’m just saying you shouldn’t forget that.”

  “We’ll have all the time in the world once this is done,” Richard said confidently.

  Francis just snorted again, swigging down the remainder of the Scotch. “You’re a fool to think so, brother. A bloody fool.”

  Chapter 35

  Never be bullied into silence.

  Never allow yourself to be made a victim.

  Accept no one’s definition of your life; define yourself.

  - Robert Frost

  114 Mount Street, London

  The following week

  “Daughter,” Abby looked up from her book to find her father standing at the drawing room door. For a moment, she did nothing but stare at him in flabbergasted silence. She couldn’t remember a single occasion in her lifetime when her father had come personally to seek her out.

  “Yes, Father?”

  “What is it, Angus?” Oona asked at the same time as if she simply couldn’t wait to have her husband respond to Abby.

  Haddington silenced his wife with a stern glance before turning that glower back to Abby. “Aylesbury is below.” With a sharp slice of his hand, he silenced Oona’s squeal of delight. “He has asked to pay his addresses to you. You will accept him.”

  Abby merely regarded him with mild surprise. “You shouldn’t have encouraged him to do so, Father. Not when you already know what the result will be.”

  “I asked the favor.”

  “Despite all evidence to the contrary,” Abby said pleasantly. “Besides, our bargain was for Cambridge’s unconditional support, if you recall.”

  “What ever are you two arguing about?” Oona wanted to know. “Aylesbury is below waiting to ask for your hand. It is everything I’ve been working for all this time. Both Sara and Catharine are engaged. All that is left is you, Abygail.”

  “I can’t imagine why he is even here,” Abby said. “I have made an effort this past week to hint to him that I would not be receptive to this sort of question.”

  “Which I assured him was just nerves on your part,” Oona told her. “Yes, I overheard you telling him how much you respected his friendship. I went straight away to let him know otherwise. You must marry him.”

  I’m already married! Abby wanted to scream at them. She wanted to stand at the top of the highest mountain and declare it to the world but she couldn’t… or rather wouldn’t. Even if it meant sparing herself a moment such as this. She’d had been on the receiving end of enough gossip to know she never wanted to be subject to it again. When Richard returned, they would make the announcement. Abby would be free of this life and able to embrace a new one with him. Until then, she would say nothing of
it.

  Still, she couldn’t stand for her father and Oona to think they had any say in her life any longer. “You had no right, Oona!” Abby exclaimed. “You do not rule my life. Nor do you, Father. Who and when I marry will be my decision!”

  “You live under my roof, lass! You will accept him!” her father bellowed, as if asserting his status would change anything. He was too late to even try, even if Abby were free to wed. She had changed, a complete metamorphosis from the fragile, weak-willed ninny she had been just weeks before. She had known for months, even years perhaps, that if any of her friends would have seen her that way, that they would have demanded that she develop some spine. It might have taken all three of them months to accomplish what it had taken Richard only days. Looking back, Abby nearly rolled her eyes in self-disgust at how far she had sunk, simply because it had been the easy thing to do.

  Abby had become the person she was meant to be and she wouldn’t take the easy path any longer. Giving her father a stiff nod, Abby said, “I will remedy that for you this very afternoon, Father. I’ve been bullied by this family long enough. I shan’t stand for it any longer.”

  “Where do you think to go, lass?” Haddington laughed derisively.

  “Perhaps I shall visit my friends as I haven’t in an age,” Abby told him. “Eve lives just an hour away by rail yet I’ve never visited her new home. Or I could go to Moira. To New York or Europe. Perhaps I shall just go to the moon, Father. I have a fair fortune of my own after all.” Abby strode to the door in long strides. Her fists clenched tightly.

  “If you leave this house…”