Marriage By Arrangement

by Anne Greene

  “Of course, now that you’ve pointed out the problem, I surely won’t.” A twinge of sadness curled through her heart. She’d miss his company.

  Megan sat straighter. A frown marred her forehead. “So, why are you in pain? You’re going to have a lovely baby. You’ll bring laughter and happiness into the castle. Though your husband is snooty, you’ve still got the very best of everything. Our parents’ love, your new title, an entire castle filled with people who chit-chat with the king.” Megan lowered her head until her red hair hid her face. “You obeyed Papa, and you’ve found happiness.”

  Cailin drew in a shuddering breath. She could trust Megan. Perhaps a new pair of eyes could help her discover what was wrong with her husband and what she could do about her problem. “I fear Avondale’s not of sound mind.” She caressed her stomach.

  Megan’s face said she couldn’t agree more. “I’m not surprised. Before you wed, I tried to warn you. What’s wrong?”

  “You’re aware, of course, that my husband treats me badly in the daytime.” She couldn’t hide a tender smile. “But when we are alone he is wonderful.” A deep sigh worked up from the bottom of her soul. “Except for when he’s experiencing one of his spells. I do love him, you know. But I’m at my wit’s end as to what to do with him.” She sighed. “His mother tells me he’s been peculiar from young manhood.” Much as she wanted to, she couldn’t tell Megan most of Avondale’s other behavior. It seemed too much like betrayal.

  Megan squeezed her hand. “Yes, that’s no secret.” Green eyes blinked. “He’s wonderful in the bedroom?”

  “Marvelous.” Her cheeks grew hot. “I’m so confused. Why does Avondale treat me so badly in the daylight and so beautifully in the dark?”

  Megan picked up a stuffed doll and toyed with its wigged hair. “In public he treats you as if you’re below his lofty station.” She frowned. “But in private, he’s really good to you?” She stiffened her shoulders. “We’re intelligent women. Between us, we can figure the answer to this problem.”

  Cailin threaded her fingers together until her knuckles turned white. She nodded.

  “Brody kept secrets from me. And I was insanely jealous each time he disappeared with you. But I accept now there was no reason for my feelings.” Megan cupped her hand over Cailin’s. “Several nights ago I experienced great fear over Brody’s welfare when he failed to reappear after a midnight rescue mission he took with Fiona. Then came blessed relief when I found him badly wounded, but more or less safe. The man is a knight, putting himself in danger to save his fellow Highlanders. It takes all my strength to keep him alive.”

  “Yes, and now after the broch’s been empty less than five days, there are three more wounded Highlanders hidden there from English soldiers.” Cailin rose from her stool and began to pace. “And Fiona feels deeply for one of the hunted Highlanders.”

  “Does she now? We mustn’t let a romance blossom between the two. Those men could be discovered any day and shot, hanged, or taken to the Tower of London.” Megan frowned. “We mustn’t let her miss the opportunities she has of a fine marriage with one of the English gentry.”

  “You’re right. We must keep Fiona and the fugitive apart. We don’t want Fiona’s heart broken.” Cailin picked up a soft, blue knit baby blanket and held it to her cheek.

  “Speaking of broken hearts, you’re not getting away that easily. Tell me more of you and Avondale.”

  “His behavior is so strange. He refuses to allow more than one small candle lit in our chamber.” Cailin hugged the blue blanket as if it shielded her from a spear. “And, no matter how early I wake in the morning, he is always gone.”

  Megan rubbed her chin with the doll’s hair. “Hmm. He acts as if he likes darkness.”

  “Exactly.” Cailin nodded, frowning. “In the daytime he avoids me and surrounds himself with his friends or goes hunting or disappears altogether. At first I thought he liked being with Brody. But not for some time now. He also avoids Brody.”

  “Yes, he and Brody did seem to get along somewhat at first. Umm…Cailin, do you suppose Lord Avondale’s jealous of the time you and Brody spend with one another?” Megan pushed her red hair away from her face, her mossy eyes again full of questions.

  Cailin gave a nervous giggle. “How could he be? He’s gone long before Brody and I—” She stopped and frowned. “I’ll insist that Brody play his chanter and sing with you.” She lay down the soft blanket. “I see now it was selfish of me to take up so much of Brody’s time.”

  Megan shook her head emphatically. Then she bit her lip. “I won’t gloss over the truth. That’s exactly what I’d love for you to do. The time you spent with Brody irritated me quite a bit more than I like to admit.”

  “I doubt I will hurt Brody’s feelings when I refuse to spend time with him.” Drat. Why was she still burnishing the truth? She had to confess Avondale’s behavior. She would have nothing come between Megan and herself. Nothing. Betrayal or not, perhaps Megan could help. She pulled in a deep breath. “Actually—”

  Fiona stuck her bright head inside the door. “Cailin, do you have a minute?”

  “Come in.”

  Megan rose and strode to the nursery door. “Yes, come in. I was just leaving.” She glanced back over her shoulder. “Thank you so very much, Cailin. I expect you to keep your word.”

  Fiona walked inside. Her brows rose. “What was that about?”

  “We just had a sisterly chat. Cleared the air of something.” She smiled and pointed to the rocker Megan had just vacated. “Sit down. What’s on your mind?”

  Fiona lowered herself into the rocker and leaned forward. “I…I have to tell ye something.” She cleared her throat. “Something rather awful. I wouldn’t bother you with it, but I don’t know what to do.”

  Cailin put a hand to her fluttering heart. She didn’t want to hear this. “It concerns Avondale?”

  Fiona gave a faint smile. “Yes.” She heaved a deep sigh. “Ye know I love ye like a sister?”

  “Thank you. And I you.” She took up her needles in case the revelation to come proved too difficult, and she wouldn’t be able to meet Fiona’s young gaze. She must find out the details sooner or later. “What has happened?”

  “The night of the masquerade…”

  Cailin’s temples throbbed. She began taking slow purls with her needles.

  “His Grace…” Fiona clutched her hands together. “I think he lost his bearings somewhat.”

  She knitted faster. “And?”

  “He dragged me out of the castle and into the forest.”

  Cailin dropped her knitting. “I know. Rafe told me.” Dread clutched her with the implacable hand of doom. “This had to have happened when Rafe went to the kitchen to fetch Hennings.” She didn’t want to hear, but Fiona needed to unburden her heart. “What was Avondale like?”

  “He didn’t seem himself at all. It was as if someone else was inside the duke’s body.” Fiona shivered. “I never have seen anything quite like his eyes.” Her mouth trembled. “He looked so elegant in his costume, and yet he wasn’t himself at all. I don’t know how to explain it.”

  “Yes, I’ve seen that look. Like a man sleepwalking.” Cailin picked up her knitting. “Or a man lost, out of control, wandering in darkness.” What could have caused him to have such demons? The dowager said The Rising, especially after the Battle of Culloden, had made Avondale ever so much worse. Tears welled in her eyes and she kept them focused on the tiny blue coat she was knitting. “Go on.”

  “We’d just gotten inside the cover of the trees when he abruptly sat down on a grassy bank and pulled me into his lap.”

  Oh Father, no!

  Her needles flashed through her knitting. Purls, knits, she had no idea what type of stitch she made.

  “But suddenly he grew very still. He looked at me with the most puzzled expression on his face. Like he had no idea why he was sitting on the ground or why I was on his lap.”

  “He didn’t hurt you?” Cailin dropped t
he knitting in a soft heap onto her lap and touched Fiona’s arm.

  “No. The dragging to the woods tore my costume and scared the daylights out of me, though.”

  “Then?”

  “Then Hennings came running up, walked us back to the castle, and took the duke away.” Fiona pulled in a deep breath. “I think I saw Rafe running towards us in the darkness, but I didn’t stop to see for certain.”

  “Oh, Fiona, I’m so sorry you had to go through that.” Cailin gazed into the wide, green eyes. “But you must promise to keep this a secret. It is of the utmost importance we keep Avondale’s problems a secret. The title, the inheritance, the power, you understand?”

  “Of course I do. They must be kept for your baby. I won’t breathe a word.”

  Cailin knew she would not. The family was keeping their own secrets about Brody and his sister hiding inside the castle. “No, of course you won’t. We are sisters now.”

  “Is the duke a threat to our family?”

  “I don’t know, dear. Rafe and Hennings are never to leave his side. One by night and the other by day. And no one but the four of us must ever know what happened.”

  “Not even Brody or Megan?”

  “No, Fiona. They have their own problems. We must not burden them with ours.” She scooted to her knees in front of the girl and hugged her. “We must never speak of this again. I am only happy Avondale didn’t hurt you.”

  Fiona hugged her and whispered, “Who is Billy the Butcher?”

  “I don’t know.” But she would find out. And she must decide what to do about her husband.

  Rafe’s plan of a hunting accident could only be used in the most terrible of circumstances. Used only if her baby was in danger. Her fingers twined around the gold cross at her throat.

  Oh God, there must be other options. Will Avondale need to suffer an accident?

  20

  Cailin rose from her knees and lowered herself into the nursery rocker facing Fiona. She took a deep breath. Was her husband losing all control? Had she indeed married a madman? If Avondale was a lunatic, would her baby be born with his father’s weakness? Would she have to lock away the man she loved for his entire life, visiting him only in the dark of night so he wouldn’t shy away from her? Or would she have to take even more drastic measures?

  She sat up straight and dropped her face into her hands. Was that Avondale’s secret?

  Was there something about her that frightened him? Was that why he avoided her in the daylight? Certainty deep inside signaled yes. Her dear husband was not snubbing her, he was afraid to be around her. She rubbed her eyes.

  But only in the light of day did he keep his distance. In the sheltering darkness the man was impossibly perfect. She loved his touch. The words he whispered in her ear. The concern he had for how she spent her day. The pride in his manner as he spoke of their child. And she loved listening to his stories of his estates and events that happened during his childhood, and how much he abhorred court life.

  So, she’d been interpreting his actions entirely the wrong way. He was not ashamed of her—heavens, he was ashamed of himself. Tears welled and spilled in warm rivulets down her cheeks. For no fault of his own, her dear husband had periods of blackouts—times when he could remember nothing. He’d had an injury and suffered through some awful experience and so sometimes lost his way.

  Oh heavens, he blamed himself and had been too ashamed to face her in daylight. But he showered his love over her when hidden by darkness. Oh, she knew she was right. She caressed her abdomen. How soothing the balm of truth to her heart. Now she need not fear asking him for his explanation. And she would. Then, perhaps he could see she would never, never be ashamed of him.

  Fiona touched her arm. “I’m so sorry my story made you weep.”

  Perhaps when he faced his shame, Avondale would begin to heal.

  “No. It’s best you told me. I must know what happens with Avondale. I must learn to deal with the problem and help him. Thank you for telling me.” She smiled and wiped a handkerchief across her wet cheeks. “I just pray that you are all right.”

  “Yes. No harm was done.” The sparkle returned to Fiona’s aqua eyes. “I believe the man has so much integrity that even when he’s not himself, he wouldna harm a lady.” She smiled. “Ye see somehow he groped his way back to reality.”

  “Thank you for thinking so highly of my husband.” Cailin squeezed her hand. Then she sat up, took a deep breath, and picked her knitting from her tapestry bag. “But you must practice your English at all times, even when alone with family.” She jabbed a needle into the blue yarn. “Now we must plan.”

  “Aye. I mean yes.”

  “I wasn’t able to get into the gun cabinets. Papa keeps the keys. Nor could I even reach one of the broad swords Papa has hanging on the walls. I’ll have to get Mikey to help us.”

  Fiona’s lake blue eyes clouded. “I’m no’…not so certain we should take weapons. I’ve seen far too much bloodshed.”

  “But two unarmed women, alone in the Highlands?”

  “We’ll have the closed carriage crested with the duke’s emblem, and Mikey will be with us.”

  Fiona picked up a tiny china doll and played with its silk dress.

  “It’s dangerous. Perhaps we should take Aunty Moira?” Cailin frowned in concentration, stroking her cheek and rubbing her chin. “We could all wear our best dresses and give the excuse that we are visiting a dressmaker. The soldiers would realize we’re not Highland women.”

  “Mayhap ye…you had better stay in the castle and keep yer wee one out of danger.”

  “True.” She stroked her stomach. “But the others are in danger. How can I stay?” She sighed. She would have to alert Rafe to keep Avondale close to the castle on strict surveillance while she was gone. “I think we should take Aunty Moira.”

  “Didna ye…didn’t you notice, yer Aunt’s still sickly in the mornings, though she’s already showing her condition?”

  Cailin’s stomach fluttered. “Yes, Aunty Moira being older and expecting a first child could be difficult for her. Aunty must take special precautions.” Their two children could play as they grew up. What a joy to have small feet pattering about inside the castle. Perhaps soon, Megan would be in the family way as well. “So, then, due to her delicate health, we shall leave Aunty Moira to her chore of tending the wounded men already hidden in the broch.”

  Father, guide me in this marriage situation. I think of Avondale constantly. How can I help him over his nightmare? Guide me, please. And please keep him away from the broch. Somehow, I think his problems are connected with The Rising. I’m certain discovering the wounded soldiers sheltered there would do him no good.

  She swallowed down her feeling of abject failure. She had no idea how to help Avondale, and yet he depended on her. “Then it will be you, me, and Mikey. Aunty Moira’s new husband, Ian…his brogue is too heavy. And he’s the very picture of a Highlander.”

  “I will visit the men Mikey and his wife have been nursing in the broch, and beg one of their sgian-dhus for each of us.”

  “Sgian-dhus?”

  “Aye…I mean yes. That’s the short, razor-sharp dagger a Highlander wears strapped to his calf just beneath the top of his high hose.” Fiona winked. “And we can strap ours above the top of our hose, much higher on our thighs.”

  “Oh.” This lass, barely entering into womanhood, yet talking so knowledgeably of daggers, was always full of surprises.

  “Aye...yes. And there are other weapons a woman may wield.” Fiona gave another knowing wink.

  Cailin put her hand to her mouth to cover a cough. This lass understood far more than any Lowland gentlewoman would.

  “I can see what yer thinking. In a one room cottage a lass does learn the private facts of life early.” Fiona giggled. “No’…not that I am closely acquainted with them, dear sister-in-law.”

  Cailin’s fertile imagination painted a clear picture of husband and wife, children, and babies all crowded into
one room. And the intimate things that happened between a husband and wife open to the eyes of the surrounding family.

  How would Avondale, with his obsessive fear of light, react in a situation of that nature? Before they wed, he’d never shared so much as a room. Fortunately, her husband would never have to face such a situation.

  Even as her cheeks burned, she ached to ask Fiona more about her encounter with Avondale. But the lass had seemed so eager not to talk about the near tragedy. Perhaps later Cailin would find an appropriate time.

  She must make this daring rescue and, in the meantime, map out a plan to keep Avondale locked up safely. He often tried to slip away from Hennings and Rafe to venture out on his own. Since the episode with Fiona, she could not allow Avondale his freedom, but she had no wish to frustrate him.

  The bodyguards must learn to enter into Avondale’s plans and become companions rather than shadow and restrain him.

  “The rain crows have been cooing all day. It’s set to rain tomorrow. The redcoats donna…do not like to be abroad in a heavy drench.”

  “You’re right. They’ll more likely be lounging inside ale houses and barracks rather than patrolling the roads. We’ll leave directly after breakfast.” She patted Fiona’s shoulder. “You’re doing a fine job of working on your speech. You’ve improved your brogue so much. Soon no one will even suspect you are a Highland lass.”

  “Thank you. And it might be best if you do not tell the duke yer plans.”

  “Of course not. I don’t wish to upset him. And Brody must continue to rest and regain his strength after that terrible wound. But he’ll soon have to move the men out of the broch.”

  “Aye. When Megan found him at the bottom of the back staircase bleeding and almost unconscious the night of the masquerade, I thought surely he would die.” Fiona laid aside the china doll and started to briskly fold a pile of baby blankets. “But the three men he rescued are still safe inside the broch.” She smiled a secret smile. “And I see Grady each day.”