by Adams, Alisa
"An' you, Ma," Bruce hugged her, shook hands with Tam, then they were away, going back to Invergar hand-in-hand between the horses again.
They made the journey slowly because neither was in any hurry. When it rained they stopped at a village inn, and when it was fine they rode as fast as they could. They got to Invergar on the tenth day out of Dundee, and the first person they met was Jessica. She looked very sad as she came out of the school, but brightened up when she saw Heather and Bruce.
"Hello!" she said, coming up to hug them. "You two look happy!"
"Very happy," Bruce said as he pulled Heather off her horse. "But you dinnae look happy, Hen. Whit's wrang?"
Jessica's expression became glum. "I don't know when we will ever be able to get married, "she said miserably, "Dougie cannot find another position and there is no school on his estate, and no-one in that district who could employ a governess either. It seems hopeless."
Heather embraced her. "There was no hope for us either, remember?" she reminded her friend, "but we managed to overcome our problems. You will too."
"I hope you're right, Heather." Jessica sighed. "I am so impatient. I want to be with him. I want to start a family—oh, there are so many things I want to do!"
"I know how you feel," Heather sympathized, "and they will come in the end. But the waiting is torture!"
They walked along quietly for a while arm-in-arm. Bruce had gone to take the horses to the stables and Jessica began to weep softly.
"I just love him so much, Heather!" she sobbed, "how did you and Bruce - when you were together alone - how did you manage to stay away from each other?"
"Bruce's willpower is as strong as he is," Heather replied, "but Jessica, we have to do something about this because you are so unhappy. I am going to ask my mother for some advice. She is good with practical matters and affairs of the heart. And my trysting place is still available if you need it."
Jessica laughed. "Thank you," she replied, "but we have no time, and most of what we have is spent with his mother and father."
"Let us have a word with Mother this evening," Heather said decisively, “we will come up with a plan, never fear."
44
A Problem Solved
James had enjoyed the company of Ewan Sinclair, so much so that when Ewan had invited him to come and visit him at his castle James had speedily accepted, saying that he would go with Heather and Bruce when they went. He had also invited Gordon and Katrine, but although Katrine was still making up her mind, Gordon had refused, citing prior engagements.
"Pfft!" Heather said to her mother on the evening of their arrival back in the village. "He is being stubborn and nothing more."
"I know," Katrine said regretfully, "but should I go without him? It would look a bit odd."
"Who cares?" James put in, "we are a distinctly odd family."
They laughed.
"Just go, mother," James said firmly, "he can't sulk forever."
"I wanted to ask your advice, Mother," Heather said carefully. "It's about Jessica wanting to get married."
Katrine raised her eyebrows in approval. "Dougie and Jessica make a very attractive couple," Katrine observed. She watched as James and Bruce left the room. Girl talk bored them!
"They are desperate to be married," Heather went on, "but he works in Kenny's castle, which is about ten miles from here, and he does not have predictable hours. She cannot stay in the castle with him. He cannot ride twenty miles a day, so what do they do? Can you think of a suggestion? As far as I know, Father needs no more staff at the moment."
"Hmm…" Katrine thought for a moment. "The trouble is that footmen have no special skills. How tall is he?"
"What has that to do with anything?" Heather asked, bemused. "He is six feet tall."
"That is likely why he was employed," Katrine laughed. "Footmen, as you know, are mainly decorative and need to be tall, but one of ours is also your father's part-time valet. We do need some gardening staff, though, but that can be quite skilled work and sometimes quite backbreaking."
Heather thought for a moment. At least it would keep them in Invergar, but of course, it was their choice. "I'll ask her. Thank you, Mother," then she went on, "their accommodation—"
"Can be discussed later," Katrine said firmly. "Go and talk to her, tell her what I said, and I will see her at the school after she has spoken to Dougie."
"Mother, you are a marvel." Heather smiled, hugged her and made to leave.
"Heather," Katrine said. Heather turned around, raising her eyebrows enquiringly. "I think I will come with you to Fraserburgh. I feel like a change of air."
"I thought you might," Heather said, winking at her mother as she closed the door behind her.
Jessica, as Heather had expected, was delighted. Dougie had not managed to get home for Sunday service that week, so it was ten days before she was able to see him again and tell him the news.
"Do you think you would want to do a job like that?" she asked anxiously, "it's a lot more strenuous than being a footman."
"Lass," he answered, kissing her hand. "It's been ten days since I saw ye! If this goes on we might no see a month o' each ither in the next ten years!"
Jessica laughed and he watched her bright green eyes crinkling at the corners. The love in his heart welled up so much that he almost could not contain it anymore.
Jessica felt the same. They were sitting very close to each other in the garden of the manse on a cloudy but dry and relatively warm day. If Jessica closed her eyes she could hear nothing but the wind sighing, the birds singing and the faint rushing of the river a few hundred yards away.
"Shall we go and see the Lady Katrine?" she asked Dougie.
"Aye," he said fervently, "please."
Katrine was at her desk writing letters when they knocked. "Ah, Jessica!" She looked delighted to see her. "And you must be Douglas."
"Dougie, please, milady." He bowed. "Very pleased to meet you."
They sat down and Katrine glanced at them mischievously, then smiled at Dougie. "Dougie, did Jessica tell you I have a weakness for handsome young men?"
"Aye, milady." He laughed. "An' she told me no' tae be led astray!"
Katrine laughed and clapped her hands. "Well," she said, "as you will realize, I do not normally interview outside staff, but you are Jessica's fiancé and I almost feel like her mother. So, if you are willing to take this job we are happy to have you. I know you have reservations about staying in the castle, Jessica, so I want to make you a proposition. This is a big building, and there are bits of it that have not been used for years—at least I don't think so." She raised her eyebrows at Jessica that made her think she knew more than she was telling about something secret.
"There is a suite of rooms at the bottom of the castle wall that slopes down to the river," she said, looking into Jessica's green eyes with her piercing dark brown ones. "It has no exit to the outside and can only be reached from inside, but could be made livable and indeed very cozy. A veritable love nest, I think. In fact, I think Bruce and Heather may have been using it for that very purpose."
Sometimes Katrine amazed Jessica. If Heather had good intuition she had doubtlessly inherited it from her mother or else Katrine had a veritable network of spies. Dougie looked amazed, but Jessica's conscience would not even let her look surprised, so she said nothing.
"Anyway, you are welcome to set up home there for as long as you need to," Katrine said briskly, "you will still be living in the castle but everyone here will be so far away from you that you might as well be living in the village. It will need a few repairs but it should not take long."
"Thank ye, milady!" Douglas said delightedly, his amber eyes shining, "did ye hear that, sweetheart?"
"I did!" Jessica laughed in disbelief. "It is wonderful. Now we can set a date. Oh, thank you, milady!"
Katrine stood up and showed them out, then watched them walk into the corridor and down into the courtyard, radiating happiness. She smiled, then sighed.
Gordon had not come to her room for weeks and they were virtually estranged, not just from her, but from every other member of the family. She knew why. It was because suddenly he could not bend the rest of his family to his indomitable will, and it had all started with Heather.
Katrine decided to leave things as they were for a while. Perhaps when they went to Fraserburgh the separation would give him time to think about things, but at the moment all he was doing was getting rid of all his frustrations by working. She sighed. It wasn't her family that was falling apart, just her marriage.
Heather had not ever expected to see the inside of a glittering ballroom or sumptuous dining room again, least of all that of Kenneth Jamieson, so when the invitation to a ball for Mister and Mistress Ferguson came Heather was flabbergasted. She was astonished first of all because it came from Kenneth, and then because a woman of her class marrying a commoner was so distasteful to the nobility that they should have been ostracized.
And yet Kenny had been helpful to Ewan in discovering Bruce. Did Kenny know about Bruce's new status yet? And if he did, had he spread the news? Perhaps that was why Heather and Bruce's presence was being tolerated.
Heather showed Bruce the invitation, and he scanned it quickly before handing it back to her. "It disnae say 'Laird' onywhere, pet," he pointed out. He looked troubled.
"He may not know," Heather conceded, "he only told Ewan where to go. He didn't know if you were really a Laird or not. I don't understand why he invited me though. I threw him over, and not even for another man, just to regain my freedom. It must have been so insulting for him—and hurtful." She looked at the paper again. "Shall we go?"
Bruce smiled. "I am aye ready for new experiences," he said, "if we hate it we can leave."
"Bad manners," she scolded him, "we will be banned from polite society from here to Carlisle."
"I've lived this long withoot it," he said flatly, "I think I can manage a bit longer."
He laughed, and she did too, gazing at the face she loved so much, with its dimpled chin and cheeks, laugh lines at the corner of his startling silver eyes and his thick, raven-black hair. And he gazed at the glorious russet ripples of her hair, the high, domed forehead, sharp cheekbones, full, moist lips, and last of all the depthless dark eyes that sometimes seemed to be able to read into his very soul. That was the very moment that Heather realized she was with child. She was not sick, not tender anywhere, and nothing had gone amiss with her monthly flux. She just knew.
Bruce reluctantly let her go. Now that she was teaching at the school again and he was no longer doing the hard, physical work he had done in the past he felt frustrated and bored. He did not want to become one of those fat, bloated Lairds who dined on a whole roast grouse every night with starchy vegetables and stodgy puddings.
People, and especially women, had always told him he was handsome, and when he looked in a proper mirror for the first time he realized that compared to most other men, he was. Heather had not been able to believe it was the first time he had noticed. Now he was vain enough to admit that he wanted to stay fit, not just to be healthy, but to keep his body in good shape. He wandered downstairs and met Dougie, who told him the good news. Bruce clapped him on the back.
"Great news, Dougie!" He grinned and shook his hand.
"An' she gied us a place tae live!" he said rapturously.
Bruce raised his eyebrows. "Where?" he asked, astonished. When Dougie told him, he laughed softly, remembering. He told Dougie all about their trysting place and Dougie thought for a moment.
"Well, Bruce," he remarked, "I think she knew ye were there a' along. She either guessed or watched."
Bruce laughed. "She's devious a' right - but in a good way," he paused and looked up into the sky. Rain was coming and all of a sudden, he felt depressed.
"Need tae get back," Dougie said anxiously, "gaunnae be a belter!"
He ran back to the manse, but Bruce stood in the rain until he was soaked to the skin. He wished he could lie in bed with Heather in his arms and she could read a book to him. He loved that. He trudged upstairs to their bedroom and stripped off his wet clothes. With nothing else to do, he crawled under the blankets and went to sleep.
45
The Ball
A week later, Heather and Bruce were dressing to go to the ball, Bruce nervously and Heather in a fever of excitement. She was expecting more than her fair share of cold shoulders, but this did not worry her unduly—if anything, it excited her in a perverse kind of way.
Bruce would settle for dancing properly and not making a fool of himself for Heather's sake. He was only going because of her. He looked magnificent in his Ferguson tartan and Heather felt positively dowdy next to him in a fairly plain pink silk dress with a low-cut neckline that hinted at her generous bosom.
"It is not fair," she grumbled, "that the man should be prettier than the woman."
"Dinnae be daft, Mistress Ferguson." He laughed. "Ye're the maist beautiful person here, man or woman."
All heads swiveled towards them when they made their appearance at the top of the stairs. So, this was the notorious Heather McVey who had married a blacksmith. A very, very handsome one, but a blacksmith none the less, with dirt under his fingernails and ingrained in his skin. Heather had debated whether to have them introduced as plain Mr. and Mistress Ferguson, which Bruce preferred, but on this occasion, her will prevailed.
The usher read the card bearing their names out to the assembled company. "The Laird and Lady Ferguson of Sinclair."
There was an audible collective gasp as Heather and Bruce took a glass of wine each from one of the circulating waiters. They went over to their host and hostess to thank them for their invitations and as he saw them a warm smile spread over Kenny's face. He had once more lost all his surplus weight and looked fit, healthy and handsome.
"So, it is true, my laird, milady?" He bowed to both of them and they returned the compliment, then he introduced his wife. "My lovely Arlene."
They curtsied and bowed to the young woman who didn't look as if she would say 'boo" to a goose.
"Yes, it is." Heather put her arm through Bruce's and smiled back at him. "It seems as though we have caused quite a stir."
"Indeed, you have!" Kenny laughed. "And I think you may have a few questions to ask me too."
"Aye," Bruce said bluntly, "we dae."
If Bruce's working-class accent grated on Kenny's ears he showed no sign of it. "Why you were invited?" he asked.
Heather nodded. "Yes," she said in a puzzled tone. "Quite frankly, I was mystified. We both were."
"I like to think there are no secrets between us," he began, "so I will tell you why I invited you here tonight." He paused to sip his wine then put his glass down and took Arlene's hand in both of his. "It is because of this wonderful lady here. She knows what I am going to say and will not be hurt, will you, sweetheart?"
"No, Kenny," Arlene said in her little-girl voice. Her eyes were shining with love.
"I took her as a bride because I could not have you, Heather," he said frankly, "and I thought she would be the kind of submissive wife I wanted. And she is, but somehow, I always end up doing what she wants, because she has a way of making me want the same thing!"
They laughed, and Heather laughed the loudest.
"You see?" she said triumphantly, "you and I would have been a match made in hell. I am so happy for both of you!"
"I see that now Heather," he sighed, then smiled fondly at Arlene, "she has me wrapped around her little finger and I am so madly in love with this little woman I will do anything for her. So, when she suggested that you come tonight I was at first resistant, then I came around to her way of thinking - as I always do - and I saw the stupidity of bearing grudges."
"Ye're right, m'laird," Bruce agreed.
"Call me Kenny," Kenneth replied, "and may I call you Bruce?"
"Aye." Bruce smiled widely.
Arlene smiled back at him. "Have you noticed Kenneth’s new figure?" she asked.
"Indeed," Bruce replied, "ye look good, Kenny."
"Thank you! Have you noticed Arlene's?" Kenneth stepped away from his wife, still holding her hand.
For the first time, Heather noticed the first signs of a pregnant bulge, and she congratulated them both.
As they turned away Arlene touched her hand and whispered, "Your turn next!" Her clear eyes were full of mischief, but they were sending Heather a message. I know, they said.
As Heather had predicted, there were many, many cold shoulders, but there were many of Heather's genuine old friends who were delighted to meet her new and very handsome husband, blacksmith or not. Half a dozen of her girlfriends crowded around her to hear the story of how they fell in love and how the secret of Bruce's ancestry had been revealed.
"It's like a fairy story!" Flora McLeod exclaimed, clapping her hands.
"I believe you can sing too," her sister, Maureen McLeod cried excitedly, "can you sing for us?"
Bruce took a step backward, suddenly feeling hunted, and wanting to beat a hasty retreat.
"Just do it," Heather whispered in his ear, "we can stay another five minutes then I will develop a very bad headache."
And so, very much against his will, Bruce was prevailed upon to sing.
He stood at the very end of the great hall opposite the door, resplendent in his family regalia and began to sing 'My Luve is Like a Red, Red Rose.' By the time he was finished, and while the echoes of his magnificent voice were still ringing around the room, many of the ladies were weeping openly at the beauty of the words and the melody. When he and Heather were attempting to make their way out, they were besieged by women and a few men who wanted an encore or another song.
Kenneth intercepted them as they were struggling to get out.
