She suddenly thought of her parents, which surprised her because she rarely thought of them any longer. Yet now she could see her mother, a woman who was never terribly happy. Resigned would be the word to best describe her mother. Her marriage to Emily’s father had been arranged. Emily had always sworn she would not enter an arranged marriage but had never had much hope of being able to stick to that vow.
From listening to conversations she had not been supposed to hear she had learned that her mother had been with child when her parents married. That had stunned her when she had reached an age to fully understand all the ramifications of such a thing. It was truly the kind of scandalous behavior her mother had never revealed any inclination for and had often lectured her daughters thoroughly on any behavior she seemed to think was worthy of scandal. Now Emily understood that, in so many ways, the freedom of choice had been taken away from her mother by her own lack of restraint.
It was sad but a part of her was angry that her mother had not made a better effort to make herself happy. Her father had not been a bad man compared to many another husband and at some point her mother had obviously found him attractive enough. Now she rather understood what could have happened. Iain had shown her the heady power of need and passion. She promised herself she would be careful. There was no need of a forced or arranged marriage here but there was always a chance of finding herself carrying the child of a man who could not love her but would feel compelled to marry her. She needed to guard against that chance. Perhaps, she thought as sleep started to nudge at her, it was past time she turned cold to him.
* * *
Iain lay in his bed staring at the ceiling. It was going to be a while before his body relaxed enough for him to find sleep. This time telling himself he needed to go visit one of the girls at the Trading Post brought nothing but a feeling of distaste. That did not please him and he knew that was a sign of trouble. The girls at the Trading Post could ease the sharp bite of need but he realized it would never help him to stop wanting Emily Stanton.
He then realized he had not once thought of Emily as a lady tonight, as one of Lady Vera’s ilk. That cold fury at gentry had not rushed in to cool his interest or make him angry about feeling it. In the days she had been at the house he had somehow separated her from that class of woman. He knew it had been unreasonable to ever think of her that way but the fact that he no longer did seemed another sign of trouble to him.
“Oh, hell,” he muttered.
* * *
Emily opened her eyes and stretched. The sight of Neddy’s empty cot pushed aside the lazy pleasure she was enjoying and she sat up. Her door was ajar and she could hear voices in the kitchen. She had slept past breakfast call. Blushing, she got up and gathered her clothes, slipping behind the privacy screen that had been brought in so she could dress. Quickly running a brush through her hair, she tied it back with a ribbon and rushed down the stairs, ignoring the occasional twinges in her leg.
“Oh, I am sorry, Mrs. O’Neal,” she said as she stepped into the kitchen and saw everyone seated and eating. “I should have been up to help you.”
“Nonsense. You clearly needed your sleep. I have been making the food for this lot for a long time. Have your breakfast.” She set a plate of eggs and ham in front of where Emily usually sat. “I saved you some in case you came even later.”
“Thank you, Mrs. O’Neal.”
Emily did her best to ignore Iain as she ate. She knew if she looked at him even once her blushes would tell everyone at the table far more than she wanted them to know. It was difficult to keep anything secret from such a large group of people. Somehow she was going to have to train herself to not think of kisses or touches when she looked at him.
Finished with her meal, she looked up and found everyone gone until she turned to the side. Iain straddled the bench at her side, studying her carefully. As she frowned at him she felt the burn of a blush on her cheeks and inwardly cursed.
“You do not have any work today?” she asked.
“Always have work but today is my day off.”
“You get one?”
“Aye, I get one though I dinnae often take one. I am about to head out to clean out the stables. They need it and it will save me having to see it done tomorrow. What do ye plan to do?”
“Clean. I think today I will attempt to clean the dining room.”
“Why? It looks clean to me.”
“Well, you are a man.”
He laughed abruptly. “You have been around Mrs. O’Neal too much. Truly, why do you want to clean the dining room?”
“A good hard clean and not just a sweep and a dust. I have decided to do a room a day and by winter this place will be pristine.”
“Still dinnae see why it needs it.” He shook his head as he stood up then leaned toward her and gave her a quick kiss. “Dinnae exhaust yourself and set your healing back. We are happy with just clean and dinnae need pristine.”
Before she could get over her shock at that surprise kiss and tell him she was healed enough to work as hard as anyone else, he was gone. She shook her head then wondered where Mrs. O’Neal had gone as she took her dishes to the sink. Seeing that no one had washed up yet, she rolled up her sleeves and got busy.
She frowned as she thought about Iain. He had actually been pleasant to her, chatting as if they were old friends. The kiss had been a light brush of affection. The man had too many moods. Just as she got adjusted to his passion followed by cold anger, he found yet another mood to confuse her with. Emily supposed she would have to find a way to treat each change with calm.
She was wiping dry the last pan when Mrs. O’Neal came bustling back into the kitchen. “Oh, child, you did not have to do that.”
“They were there and needed cleaning.”
“Well, thank you kindly. Had a small emergency with Rory. The child has a deep and abiding fear of wasps and one was flying around too near to him. So had to go to his rescue.”
Emily laughed softly. “I can fully understand the fear of wasps.”
“Nasty devils. So what do you have planned for today?”
“I plan to clean the dining room. Top to bottom just like I did my room.”
“Are you sure you are strong enough?”
“I may need to sit down and rest a minute more than I like but, yes, I am strong enough. It will probably take me all day though.”
“I will polish the floor for you.”
“Thank you.” Emily grinned. “I was hoping you would offer.” She laughed when Mrs. O’Neal gave her a light slap on the arm. “The floor in my room looks wonderful and I have no idea how you got it to look that way.”
“Just let me know when you are ready for it. Best we shift some of the furniture first.”
Emily wiped her hands and followed Mrs. O’Neal into the dining room. One look was enough to tell her they would need to call the men in to move a few things but the two of them took everything else to the parlor. With much complaining about why they had to do this, the men came in and moved the two largest pieces and set them in the hall.
“The room is far larger than I thought,” Emily murmured as she looked over the empty room.
“I can help whenever you need it. Just need to make a lunch and prepare the supper.”
“Then I had best get started.”
She bent down to roll up the carpets and Mrs. O’Neal helped. Then they carried them out to the porch, flipped them over the rail, and Mrs. O’Neal got her rug beater and started to work. Emily went back into the kitchen, got a mop and a bucket of light soapy water, and went to wash down the walls. She hoped she had more strength than she had had the last time she cleaned because this room would not allow her many rests if she was to be done by the end of the day.
She looked around after she had finished washing the walls. “This is going to look magnificent.”
“Huh. I would never have guessed the walls had gotten so dirty. We shall have to have a meal in here when it is not a holiday.”
The woman shrugged. “We don’t have dinner parties. So, carpets clean, walls clean, and I have some time before starting the midday meal. What next?”
“The windows.”
Both women looked at the windows and groaned.
* * *
By the time the men had arrived for supper, they were ready for them to put the furniture back. Emily noticed some frowns as they looked over the room while bringing in the furniture. She found she was nervous about their opinion. Mrs. O’Neal’s frown deepened as they did their work and said not a word.
It was not until they were all seated for the evening meal in the kitchen that Iain said, “So we arenae allowed to eat in the room now?”
Emily laughed when Mrs. O’Neal cursed and tossed a napkin at him. “We are eating here because the room needs airing or one ends up tasting the smells of window cleaner, polish, and the like. Everything in there, even the walls, was cleaned and that can make a smell hard to breathe in.”
“It looks nearly as new as when we built it,” said Robbie.
“That it does,” agreed Lachlan. “Even the carpets.”
“Nice as it is, the question is—why?” asked Iain.
“It is what we used to do at home before winter,” said Emily. “It makes everything all fresh so when you close up the house it is nicer.” She placed the potatoes on the table and then took her seat next to Neddy. “Then one sometimes does some of the same things in the spring. Clean off the smell of fires going for days.” Emily looked up to find even Mrs. O’Neal staring at her and just shrugged.
“Ye had servants to clean for you,” said Iain.
Emily heard no real anger in his voice so she just shrugged again. “I do not think that room has been scrubbed down since you built it. It won’t need such a hard clean for a long time.”
Iain looked at Matthew and then each of his other brothers and nodded. “Just how many rooms do ye intend to do that with?”
“All of them. One a day.”
“Weel, ye will tell us when ye plan to do it to any of our rooms.”
“If I must.”
“Aye, ye must.”
Emily bit back a smile as she turned her attention back to her meal. As ever, the men talked of work done and work they thought needed doing. When they all got up to leave she turned in her chair and watched them walk down the hall. Each one of them paused to look over the dining room. Satisfied, she turned her attention to clearing up after the meal.
Chapter Seven
Determined to see what the town had to offer, Emily went to the stables thinking she would ride into town. All she would need was some directions. Looking around the dimly lit stables she only found a pair of plow horses and no saddle she could use. Frustration was a hard knot in her belly for she needed to get away from Iain and his home for a while but it appeared she was stuck.
As she stood outside the stables considering how she could get away from Iain and his ever-changing moods for a while, Robbie strolled up. He was eating an apple and walking as if he had nowhere pressing to be. Emily wondered if she should try to use one brother to hide from another for a little while. It seemed wrong in some inexplicable way but she had no choice.
“How can I get to your town?” she asked. “There is neither horse nor saddle for me to use.”
“Weel, we never had need for one of those silly woman’s saddles,” Robbie answered, and tossed his apple core into the pig pen that was right beside the stable. “I can take you in the buggy.”
“I would not wish to take you away from your work.”
“No work today. My day off.”
“You have a day off too?” she asked as she followed him back into the stables.
“We all do. Iain decided that since we cannae all stop working on any day we choose that each one of us will have a day to do as we please. There are still times when we are all needed but it works out well.” He started to hitch one of the plow horses to the front of a small buggy. “Slept late. Did some weaving and was just thinking of having a ride, an ambling kind of ride, one with no purpose.”
“You do weaving?” she asked, startled, and then smiled at his blush.
“Aye. Some.”
She smiled as he helped her up into the buggy seat and realized he was not going to tell her much about his skill. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
“More interesting than riding aimlessly.” He hopped into the seat and carefully steered them out of the stable. “Need a few things myself so this will suit me.” He reined in right in front of the house. “I will just tell Mrs. O’Neal so everyone knows where we are.”
“Oh, of course. Please ask her if she will watch over Neddy if it is needed.”
As she waited Emily realized Robbie had a lot less accent than Iain, actually spoke more like an American. She suspected the occasional slips came from growing up surrounded by people who spoke like Iain did. When he returned and got in the seat, he handed her a scrap of paper upon which was a list of what looked to be badly spelled words.
“Mrs. O’Neal wants a few things. She told me but thought it might be best to make a list. Took her a while. Said she didnae know the spelling. Can you read it?”
“Tell me some of the things she said so I can puzzle it out. There is usually some logic to the way people who really do not understand how to spell will write their words.”
“Huh. First thing is flour. Second thing is sugar.”
“Ah, that will do. I can see it now. You cannot read?”
“Nay. First, the tenants were usually doing work if it was ever offered. No time. Then we were always moving on. Even here. Then you just reach an age where you simply give up on the idea. You have found no need for it so why bother. Other things that need doing.”
“I could teach you if you want.”
“Really? There was a teacher on the wagon train and our mither had us go to her but it was only for a few days before the attack. Teacher died as did our folks.”
“I am sorry. When was that?”
“Near to fifteen years ago. Me, Donald, and Lachlan were born here. Tale is that Lachlan barely waited for our mither to get off the boat.”
“Oh, my, your poor mother. She left Scotland when she knew she was carrying a child?”
“Had no choice. Laird decided that stock was cheaper than tenants. We were tossed out of our cottage. They came in the night. Dragged my parents out, shoved a paper in front of my father’s face but he could not read it, could he. Slapped him around a bit before they understood that.”
“Surely you had some right to live there.”
“Only the laird’s word. Even though the same thing was happening all over Scotland and had happened over and over before our turn came, Da never thought our laird would do it.”
“Greed can be a powerful persuader.”
Robbie nodded. “One soldier was a good fellow and let my mither and Iain get a few things before they set the place on fire. To keep us from sneaking back in, they said. She grabbed a few of my da’s paintings, his painting supplies, his sword from when he was in the army, and a few other small things. Nearly lost Geordie because he had run back in to get something. Iain went in after him. Got him out but it was close. See, Da had a tunnel under the house. He said that with reivers and soldiers always wandering through, it would be useful. Iain got singed but he brought Geordie out. We also saved our money, which proved useful. Passage was costly. Did ye hear nothing of the clearing of the lands in Scotland?”
“Not much, I fear. Females are not to be troubled by such things. Too weighty for our tiny female brains,” she drawled, and Robbie laughed. “Perhaps the men think we will riot or some such nonsense. I did hear a bit but nothing to tell me it was so harsh. Tenants usually have some agreement with the man who owns the land. The paper they sign gives them a little protection from just being tossed out or so I was told.”
“If Da had a paper h
e did not ken what it said. And Lady Vera, the laird’s new wife, got angry over how long my mother was taking to get her things and ordered it stopped. They set the place on fire before Iain and Geordie could get out. When they did get out we picked up what little we had saved and headed to a city where we might find some work. We did but Da had also heard about this land and wanted to come here.” He frowned. “So, yes, I would like to learn how to read. I have seen how it can cause one trouble if you cannot read.”
“Well, we will see what others wish to do, and then settle on a time to do it. It takes time, you know.”
“Most learning does from what little I have seen of it. I would like to get good at it. I want to read a book.”
A simple wish, Emily thought, and she was determined to fulfill it. She then thought on what they had suffered, what had driven them from the land they were born in. It was sad and so very wrong. Now she also had a clue as to why Iain would go from being warm to acting cold around her. As the eldest his memories would be the clearest about what the gentry had done to them. He was convinced she was gentry even though she had yet to confess to it. It was wrong for him to blame an entire class of people for what had happened but she could understand it. Sad to say a lot of her ilk would be just as cruel to their tenants if it brought them money.
She winced. It made her even more reluctant to tell him the truth but she knew she had to. Emily had almost convinced herself that her actions since coming into his home would show him she was nothing like the ones who had hurt him and his family when Robbie stopped the wagon.
Emily started and looked around. There was one large store that was called the Trading Post. The sign hanging on the wall of the building indicated it was also a tavern. Robbie’s glances at it and faint blush told her it was probably a place that offered some other services men sought. Her opinion of that was confirmed when they stepped inside. As Robbie hustled over to a door at the side she glanced up at the upper floor and saw a man stepping out of a room as he adjusted his clothing. A scantily clad woman stood behind him. Her expression was one of utter boredom.
The Scotsman Who Saved Me Page 8
