Through the Fire

by Elizabeth Johns

  “Yes, my lady.”

  Her father followed to greet them.

  “Good morning, Craig.” He shook his hand jovially.

  “Lady Margaux.” Lord Craig offered a bow. “Do you remember Miss Catriona and Miss Maili Douglas?”

  “Of course. Welcome.” She curtsied to the girls.

  “It is one of the princesses,” Maili exclaimed as she rose from her deep curtsy.

  “I am not a princess, Maili,” Margaux said with a smile, thinking how she had purposefully tried to be plain today.

  “You look like one.” The child’s admiration was undisguised.

  Margaux laughed and took the girls’ hands. “Would you like to meet some of our young ladies at the dower house? I am going there now.”

  The girls nodded with excitement and followed along with her in wonder.

  “May I ask you to spare some of your time?” Gavin asked Lord Ashbury when Lady Margaux and the girls had left. “Yes, of course. I wished to speak with you also before we leave,” Ashbury replied.

  “Leave?” Gavin had not expected such a quick departure after last night’s conversations.

  “Let us remove to the study to discuss matters.” Lord Ashbury held out his arm to direct Gavin across the hall, then closed the door behind them. He indicated for Gavin to sit down.

  “We have decided to return to London, in order to become better acquainted with the gentleman courting one of our other daughters. I have convinced my wife to permit Margaux to remain here some little while. Perhaps Margaux will see reason once she is away from everything familiar. I am certain no harm will befall my daughter, but could I possibly ask you to keep an eye on her from time to time and send me word? I assume you will be bringing the girls here on occasion, and it would ease my mind to know how she is fairing.”

  “I would be happy to do so if Lady Margaux is agreeable to my visits,” Gavin reassured him.

  “Thank you, Craig. I have no doubt you and Margaux will deal well together. Can I offer you a drink? Scotland’s finest.” Before Gavin could respond to the cryptic remark, Lord Ashbury held out a tumbler of whisky that Gavin instantly recognized from its aroma as Craig. His brother might have capitalized upon the recipe, but it had been passed down through generations.

  “So, are you one of the parties my brother has been supplying?” Gavin asked.

  “Of course... along with half the aristocracy who are not fortunate to have our own still in Scotland. And those who envy his recipe.”

  “Half?” Gavin looked up with surprise.

  “Craig whisky is found in the finest homes across Britain,” Lord Ashbury said as he swirled the golden liquid around his tumbler and took an appreciative whiff.

  “I had no idea,” Gavin said completely in awe.

  “It is, of course, not something to publicize until the legislation is passed. The taxation on the legal distillers makes wide distribution difficult for most to enjoy. You should consider taking your seat when you are more settled here and add your voice to the matter,” Lord Ashbury advised.

  Gavin nodded. “I had planned on it, but I am in over my head at the moment.”

  “Please tell me how I can help,” the older man said kindly.

  “I doona ken where to start. I am inadequate from my dress to my lack of wife. It now appears I must become a farmer, too. I have a ball to plan, my steward was pensioned off, and I need a governess. If you can advise me on any of it, I will be ever grateful.”

  “My goodness. I can certainly put in some enquiries as to stewards when we are in London. There are always second sons of gentry who would be just the thing. Lady Ashbury would be more helpful with your other dilemmas. Especially the wife.”

  Gavin tried not to choke. “I had thought Easton might have a veteran or two who might fit the bill.”

  “An excellent notion. I will consult with him as well,” Lord Ashbury said as he rang the bell and asked for his wife. She came dashing into the room a few minutes later.

  “Lord Craig, excusez-moi! I did not know you were here. How do you do today?” Lady Ashbury held her hands to her chest as she came into the room and saw him.

  “Verra well, my lady.” He had risen to his feet when she entered and offered a bow of greeting.

  “Lord Craig requires our assistance. Would you be able to make enquiries with respect to a governess while in town?” Lord Ashbury explained.

  “Oui. I would be delighted.” She smiled at him.

  Gavin thanked her, but still did not feel relieved.

  “Is something else the matter? You look worried, non?”

  “Nothing you can help with, unfortunately, madam. I must next approach the vicar’s wife and see if she can assist with plans for the solstice celebration. It would seem it was another of the late Lady Craig’s duties.”

  “I imagine there is a large void to fill with a house of such a size. Not many ladies are prepared for running such a grand household. Have you considered taking a wife?”

  Gavin raised his eyebrows, but did not answer. He did need a wife, but why was it so humiliating to admit it?

  “I imagine if you were to ask Margaux for assistance, she would be delighted to assist with the girls. I give her one week to be bored beyond her senses. She believes she will help with the orphans, but even now we have more staff than we need.”

  “She has already offered to teach my girls,” he said, as if he would be placing an imposition on Margaux and her time.

  Lady Ashbury waved her hand. “She was always my organized child. She has been involved in the running of my household from a young age. She must keep herself busy or she becomes restless.”

  “But would it not be improper? She is not married,” he questioned. He had no desire to ruin Lady Margaux by association.

  “There can be no objection when she has her aunt to chaperone her.”

  Gavin thought of the aunt who had been present—yet not present—at dinner the night before. Was she the intended duenna? Gavin was grateful it was he and not some scandalous rake with whom they were entrusting their daughter’s care.

  “I will consider asking her, madam, if the vicar’s wife is not amenable. I doona wish to impose on Lady Margaux.”

  “I imagine she can be a great deal of assistance to you until you find the people you need.”

  “Thank you, I will think on it. I wish you a safe journey. I promise to keep you informed, Ashbury. My lady.” He kissed her offered hand and shook Lord Ashbury’s.

  Gavin turned to go seek out the girls and missed the wink and large grin that passed between Lord and Lady Ashbury.

  Meanwhile, Margaux had been giving Catriona and Maili a tour of the home for abandoned young ladies. She began with finding the house-mother and introduced them.

  “Mrs. Bailey, may I present our new neighbours, Miss Catriona and Miss Maili Douglas. They are now living at Castle Craig, and were previously at Alberfoyle.”

  Mrs. Bailey nodded understanding and gave a curtsy.

  “Welcome to Breconrae, Miss Douglas and Miss Maili.”

  “Lord Craig has been unable to secure them a governess as yet, so we thought they might enjoy joining our lessons for now,” Margaux explained to the house-mother.

  “Verra well, milady. Why doona we introduce ye to the other young ladies and see what ye think?” Mrs. Bailey smiled at Catriona and Maili, then turned to lead them through the house.

  The girls were shy on first inspection, but it did not take them long to feel comfortable in the house once they realized it was much like Alberfoyle. Catriona had grown into a friendly young lady, and Maili was by nature curious and talkative. Margaux watched the children settle, and studied the house for areas that might need improvement.

  “Is there anything you need today, Mrs. Bailey?” Margaux asked curiously. Never had she been to an orphanage that did not need something.

  “I canna think of a thing at the moment. Yer father has the place running without a hitch.”

  “No do
ubt. I would still like to be of use.” There was no plan for her to be there; certainly not to work.

  “If I think of anything I will surely let you ken,” Mrs. Bailey said and left.

  She was being dismissed. The house-mother likely assumed this was merely a passing fancy of hers and only told her what she thought she should. She would have to prove herself. The beauty of the orphanages Lord Easton had started was that the children were taught skills to be self-sufficient when they left. The orphanage was run more like a training school and the girls learned while helping. There was little for her to do, other than some small amounts of sewing—and even that was mostly done by the orphans.

  She needed to find something with which to occupy herself, but she would not worry much yet. She was certain to find usefulness in one way or another in time. She would speak to the vicar’s wife and visit the villagers. Perhaps they had not seen their needs attended to in some time; at least since her grandmother’s passing, if Aunt Ida’s current state was anything to go by.

  She watched the Lord Craig’s daughters. They seemed at ease in these surroundings, possibly more so than as wards of a lord in a large castle. However, they would be expected to be brought up as ladies and would need a different type of education from most of the girls at their school. She could work with Catriona and Maili until a governess was found for them. Maybe by then she would have found a worthy way to occupy her days.

  After she considered the girls had spent enough time at the Dower House to feel comfortable and make some new friends, Margaux led them back to the main house. She could discuss her ideas with Lord Craig and see if he agreed.

  “Pardon me, my lady,” Mrs. Bailey stopped her on her way back to the house and pulled her aside from the girls. “Forgive my sayin’ so, but I doona think it is a guid idea, milady, to teach them with our girls. They need to be learning more genteel things if they are to be educated as the daughters of a baron.”

  Mrs. Bailey had almost read her mind, but she did not like her tone.

  “Such as dancing, music, languages, and art?” Margaux tried to keep the bitterness out of her voice. She had benefited little from such an education.

  Mrs. Bailey nodded.

  “I suppose you may be right. I will discuss this with Lord Craig. I had hoped it would be acceptable for a time.”

  “But ye put them here and they willna want to stop. It’s best to start them as ye mean to keep them,” the woman insisted.

  “It is for Lord Craig to decide,” Margaux said firmly.

  “Verra well, milady.” Mrs. Bailey curtsied and left briskly.

  Wonderful. Margaux had managed to raise the house-mother’s bristles when she desperately needed to find a place here. Of course, they would tolerate her no matter what, since her father owned the estate, but that was not the same as acceptance. Why did she always voice her opinion so freely? It had deterred many a man in London who had wanted her to be nothing more than a porcelain doll for them to display. Apparently it had been unacceptable for her to be beautiful and also be able to think.

  She fell into step with the girls along the path.

  “How would you like to learn some new things?” she asked them.

  “What kind of new things?” Catriona asked warily.

  “To play the pianoforte and sing, or to paint, or learn to speak French?” Margaux suggested.

  “But I want to learn to dance,” Maili protested.

  “Of course. Dancing is an essential part of a young lady’s education.”

  “Are you going to teach us?” Catriona asked suspiciously.

  “If it is acceptable to Lord Craig,” Margaux added.

  Both girls threw excited hugs around her, and this was the scene upon which Lord Craig stumbled upon as they came up the path.

  “Papa Craig!” Maili shouted with unsuppressed elation. “The Princess is going to teach us to dance.”

  “She is?” he asked, amusement warming his tone as he looked toward Margaux with his pleading eyes. There was something in that look she could not read.

  “I shall be pleased to instruct them in ladylike accomplishments until you have found a governess, should you wish me to do so,” Margaux offered.

  “I would be eternally grateful for your help, my lady,” he said quietly.

  She nodded and their gazes locked. They walked in silence for a few moments.

  “Lady Margaux, will you be attending the musical at Squire McDougal’s?”

  “I—” Margaux hesitated and frowned. “I had not thought of attending any social events here.”

  “It will be nothing like a London musicale, of course.”

  “I—” Still she hesitated.

  “And your aunt, of course.” His eyes held a mischievous gleam.

  Their eyes met again and they both laughed.

  “Very well. I would be delighted to make the acquaintance of the neighbours.”

  Gavin gathered the girls into the carriage. Maili was already attempting to practice her dance moves in the small conveyance. Catriona was lost in thought. Gavin dared to hope his situation might improve with the help of Lord Ashbury and his family.

  “Papa Craig, why were some of the girls so big?” Maili held out her arms to indicate their bellies. “They look like Mrs. Millbanks did when she was going to have a baby.”

  Gavin had to take a deep breath. He had known this was coming, but still was not sure how to answer.

  “They are going to have babies, Maili,” he said, seeing no reason not to be truthful.

  Maili’s eyes grew wide. “But they are not married!” she protested.

  “Nay, lass. You doona have to be married to have a baby.”

  “Papa Craig, where do babies come from?” she asked.

  Naturally, that was the next logical question. He should have seen it coming as well. Perhaps jumping from the carriage would be less painful than answering.

  “It happens when a man lies with a woman. But you needn’t worry about it yet.”

  Maili and Catriona were silent a few minutes as they pondered this information. He was waiting for the follow on question about why the girls were with child. But it did not come this time.

  “Papa Craig, is Princess not the most beautiful girl you have ever seen?” Maili said dreamily.

  Gavin hesitated. “Aye, I suppose she is.”

  “She should be our new mama.”

  “Maili!” Catriona scolded.

  “But why not?” Maili demanded. “She needs a husband. I heard her mama telling her papa.”

  “Did you? You shouldna listen to other people’s conversations, lass,” Gavin corrected her.

  “But I could not help it. They were talking and I heard them. I was not trying to hear them.” She pouted.

  “All right, lass.” He patted her on the head.

  “Her papa said he was counting on the good doctor’s charms. I hope he meant you.”

  Gavin could not think of a reply to satisfactorily express his feelings.

  Chapter 5

  Margaux saw her parents off that morning with more confidence than she felt. The house seemed empty with them gone. She would miss her parents, but their disagreement was never about them personally, she reflected. It was about what they thought was best for her, combined with a lack of desirable suitors. After determining the orphanage had no need of her services that morning, she returned to the house to forge a plan. She had miscalculated, certainly. There was less to occupy her time here than she had presumed, but she would not lose hope before her parents had passed the first mile to London.

  She was also lonely; she had to confess it, at least in private, but not so lonely she would race back south. Her sister Jolie loved the ton, but Margaux had never enjoyed the stares and the gossip once the ton had assumed she had been jilted. She had certainly been the one to back out of the understanding with Lord Vernon, but it was not because she wished to. She might be many things, but she had not been able to bear marrying Lord Vernon when she had
realized his affections were attached elsewhere.

  She was already becoming morose. She mustn’t panic. If she kept herself busy, she would not dwell on her disappointments. She searched the house for things she would find useful with which to teach the Douglas girls. She might have to send for some supplies, unless they were to be found in the nursery at the castle. She had not discussed with Lord Craig where the lessons were to take place, but she could not simply appear at the castle. Or could she? She wrinkled her face in thought. Were the rules as stringent in the country—remote Scotland—as they were in London? They were not in France.

  Should she find Aunt Ida and drag her out for a small errand? She could ride over there and ask the housekeeper discreetly and be on her way. Besides, if she were to be a spinster, she did not need a chaperone. She needed to embrace her new role in life.

  That was easier said than done. She could not break two decades’ worth of breeding and schoolroom indoctrination with regard to calling on a bachelor, especially unchaperoned. She went in search of Aunt Ida.

  Margaux could not find her aunt, and the staff did not seem to be alarmed at Ida’s apparently frequent wanderings. She always returned from her walks, they said. Margaux reluctantly sat and darned more socks until Ida returned. When the darning was completed, she wrote out some French lessons and some ideas for other essentials for young ladies to learn. That occupied no more than half an hour. She walked to the window and gazed out over the beauty of the land and water. From this side of the house, she could just see the Firth of Clyde off in the distance. From the next, she could see the loch. She inhaled a deep, relaxing breath. This was why she was here. She would need to adjust her pace of life and her expectations. She had never excelled in idleness, so she had learned to manage the household with her mother from an early age. She needed to revel in the beauty around her. She wanted to be here, but she must find a way to keep her restlessness at bay. Once she made it through the first day, she was certain everything would settle into place.

  Gavin rode to the vicarage the next morning to call on the vicar’s wife. The vicar had seemed like a sombre fellow at the funeral; not necessarily someone he would choose to spend excess amounts of time with, but not overly offensive. He was prosy, with a dour disposition that was unfortunate in a man of the cloth.