The Highlander's Brave Baroness (Blood 0f Duncliffe Series Book 10)

by Emilia Ferguson

  “I have my son.”

  “Tam?” he chuckled. Adeline felt as if he’d hit her.

  “My son is…”

  “Your son is a well-meaning, scholarly sort. Forgive me, milady, but you have cosseted him overmuch. His head is in the clouds. He needs a firm hand on his shoulder too, just as you do.”

  “My son is a soldier!”

  “Oh. I heard of his joining with some skirmishers. Very noble,” he scorned. “Well, I can see he is not fit to rule Dunrade. Not now, and possibly not in future. No, what you need is a firm hand. A man to run things.”

  “I suppose you are about to put yourself forward as the only candidate?”

  She tried to inject that with irony, though in truth she was afraid. What if he was suggesting that? What if he meant to put her and Tam out of a home?

  He smiled. “Not in the slightest, niece,” he said. “I have a much better plan. You are to wed. I have chosen McGuide.”

  “You have no right…” Adeline hissed.

  In fact, she knew he did. He had every right. As her closest living relative, and nominal head of the clan into which she’d wed, he had every right to decide her fate.

  He smiled, seeming to notice she had come to that conclusion.

  “Well, then,” he said. “I will be staying the night only. I am a busy man. My own estate is something I manage with all diligence,” he added, with a glint of mockery. “And duty calls me back. I will be leaving in the morning. But in my place, expect a visitor tomorrow.”

  “What?”

  That was too much! He might have the freedom to barge into her house, demand to check her accounts, and even to suggest she wed. However, he had no right – no right at all – to invite his guests!

  “Uncle?” she said, when he didn’t answer. “Who have you invited here?”

  He was already leaving, striding past her to the door. In the doorway, he paused, as if he just noticed she’d spoken.

  “McGuide. And at the head of a small party. I understand they’re on the way to his estate in the North. Make sure you can feed ten people for dinner tomorrow.”

  “Uncle…” she stammered. However, he was already walking past her up the hallway. Soon, all she could tell of his visit was the distant whisper of footsteps, heading down the stairs.

  Adeline stood where she was, long after he had gone. She felt too shocked to move, to speak, even to think.

  He wants me to marry again. And to some stranger.

  She couldn’t make sense of it. The worst thing was, she felt foolish. Why had she not thought of it? She had lived alone for so many years – any other relatives would doubtless have pressed such a choice on her years ago.

  “I’m a fool.”

  How else was it that she hadn’t thought to pay more assiduous attention to the future? Why was she not actively seeking her own protector?

  She walked down the hallway, blindly.

  As she walked past the newly designated infirmary, she paused in the doorway. Some sort of impulse made her want to go in, to see Alexander. Of all people in the household, when she was near him she felt safe, and strong. She could hear talking in there, and she tensed, listening.

  “…and that must have been a fine day, eh?” Alexander was saying. “A fine day.”

  “In retrospect, perhaps it was,” her son was saying slowly. “But at the time, all I felt was very stupid, and in pain.”Alexander chuckled.

  They were sitting together, she saw from the doorway, her son on the big upholstered chair by his bedside. Alexander was propped up on the bedstead and there was a tray on his knee. As she watched, her son poured some cordial into two glasses, and they both drank.

  “You must be a fine rider, eh?” Alexander asked. “You’re a fine tall lad.”

  Tam blushed. He was looking at the tray, all sixteen-year-old shyness. Adeline’s heart stopped. He son was a naturally shy boy, but so desperately in need of the supportive attention Alexander provided.

  “Thanks,” he said “Last year I won the race on my three-year-old colt. We were the fastest in the district.” He beamed with pride.

  “Well done!” Alexander raised his glass.

  Adeline could have wept for pride and tenderness, seeing the way her son blushed shyly. She paused at the door a moment longer, then tiptoed away. When she reached her bedchamber, her cheeks were wet. That was how Camden should have been, as a father! He was never anything like that. He barely noticed his son’s existence.

  “Oh, Tam,” she whispered. “If only I could find a man such as that. He would be just what you need, for a father.”

  Oh, Alexander, she thought. I wish I could make you a nobleman. I would wed you tomorrow. You are a fine fellow.

  She felt her own lips twist in an ironic expression. He was a wounded soldier, clearly of laboring stock. He was no fit match for her!

  He was perfect. Gentle, kind, funny…and Tam liked him.

  She allowed herself a moment longer, simply to dream of it. Then she let her heart harden over.

  “You should focus on the household’s budget. And McGuide. That is your duty.”

  She turned to the lamp by the mirror and, stiffly, blew it out, leaving the room in darkness.

  A WALK AND CONFUSION

  Alexander leaned back against the wall. He looked down at his feet. Clad in the rough shoes of a laborer, which he’d found lying under the bed, they ached. He surveyed the sickroom from a fresh vantage point, beside the window. Even this small achievement was exhausting.

  His body had lost both its strength and much of its capabilities in the last three days.

  Fine lot of use I’d be to Laird McRade if he saw me now.

  The laird had taken him on because of his reputation as a good fighter. Now, leaning heavily on the wall, chest heaving, wound pulsing, he reckoned a five-year old could probably knock him down.

  He sighed and took a moment to study the garden and plan his next move. He would give almost anything to be outside.

  “Fine lot of help she was. Said she’d walk with me. Said she’d bring lunch, too.”

  He knew it was ridiculous, but the more the day had progressed, the more the thought preyed on his mind –Lady Adeline had promised, more or less, to take a walk with him that afternoon. Now it was seven o’ clock – to judge from the distant bell, the ringing of which floated up from the village – the day was darkening, and the sun was setting, and she still hadn’t come to see him.

  “Stop being a fool,” he said to himself firmly.

  Lady Adeline had done more than enough for him. She didn’t owe him any more of her time!

  He tried to calm himself, studying the garden. He was overlooking a vast lawn, the edges of which were bordered by a neat hedge. On one side of the big rectangle stood a tall tree, a cypress, he guessed. Beside it was a stone pond, a fountain in the center. The fountain was dry. In the pale blue light of evening, it was a beautiful, tranquil place.

  He saw a shadow cross the lawn and tensed, drawing instinctively back from the window.

  As he watched, he saw Lady Adeline coming into view. She was dressed in a different gown, this one rust colored, the neck lower. It was, he guessed, a more formal dress. She had changed for dinner. He saw how the light played over the pale skin of her chest and sighed. She was bonny!

  Leaning back, he watched her carefully.

  She was walking across the lawn toward the tree. As she did so, he saw a tall man enter the still garden. He was stooped slightly, and he couldn’t see his face properly. He was wearing a dark cloak, and he walked slowly, like a scholar or a nobleman – somebody used to contemplation, or too proud to hasten anywhere.

  As he watched, Lady Adeline stopped, a hand placed on her chest, obviously in some sort of distress, or the grip of some strong emotion. The tall fellow reached out and took her hand. He bent in and said something only she could hear.

  “Bollocks,” Alexander grunted, feeling almost pained. “She’s got a fellow.”

  H
e was shocked at his reaction. He hadn’t seriously been thinking about her like that, had he?

  Why not? I am the son of a baron.

  He shook his head. McRurie had thrown him out long ago. He was nobody’s son, nobody’s heir. He thought about what his own clan had said, how they had scorned him, cast him aside.

  A fool with a weakness for whiskey. Why would she want me?

  He ran a hand over his head, feeling how long his hair and beard were.

  “I look the part, too… a fearsome outcast.” He chuckled. That, at least, he could remedy. He still had his knife, and he was strong enough to at least shave by himself.

  He was standing by the mirror, cutting off handfuls of chestnut hair from behind his head, when he heard the in drawn breath.

  “Sir!”

  He turned to find a woman staring at him. She had a long face and brown hair and wide eyes.

  He distantly recognized her from the day before. He reckoned she was part of the staff. She seemed pretty, in a distracted sort of way. Now, she was looking at him with horror.

  “What?” he said. He put the knife back in his pocket, wiped hair off his shoulders, and tried to look casual.

  “Nothing,” she stammered. “I just came to find ye. Mistress would be distressed to find you up and about, I reckon.”

  “Mistress would say the faster I get on my feet, the faster I’m away from here,” he said, trying an attempt at a smile. “I’m sure she wants me gone.”

  “Well, mayhap,” the woman agreed, though she didn’t seem sure. “Now. Mistress wished tae ken if ye fancy solid food for supper?”

  “I fancy going for a walk,” he said truculently.

  And I didn’t get a walk, did I? he wanted to add.

  He knew it was foolish, so he didn’t say.

  “I can make a porridge?” the woman suggested hopefully. “Or oatcakes, if ye’d prefer?”

  “Oatcakes sound grand.”

  “And soup?” she asked.

  “Soup would be like paradise.”

  She beamed, and he felt bad for having been rude earlier.

  “Any chance I can get down there?” he asked, indicating the window that looked out onto the tranquil spring scene. “I’ve not been out and about in three days,” he added, hoping that sounded as piteous as he felt.

  “I’ll take ye. Mistress’d have me hide off me back, mind ye.”

  He shook his head. Winked at her. “I promise I’ll not tell.”

  Her eyes kindled, and she smiled. “Very well, then,” she agreed, and came to stand beside him, offering him her arm to lean on as they walked slowly across the room.

  Alexander felt awkward leaning on her shoulder, but she didn’t seem to mind, and he accepted the help thankfully, walking on his own was too hard for the moment. Together, they went down the darkening hall and then they turned abruptly left, into a darker corridor.

  “The servant’s hallway,” the woman explained, shutting the door behind them.

  It was dark in here, Alexander noticed, the only light from a sputtering lantern bracketed to the wall. He could smell the scent of inferior oil. It surprised him. Lady Adeline didn’t seem uncaring about her staff. He wondered if their own servants’ hallway at home had been this bad.

  “Come on,” his helper chided, as he paused in the darn. “Down the stairs. It’s dark, I know. If you count the steps, it helps. There’s twelve o’ them.”

  “Thanks,” he said, voice echoing in the gloom. He counted them silently, while the woman intoned the words aloud, both of them going slowly. It was very dark, and he was surprised nobody had hurt themselves. All in all, it gave a very different impression down here to the one the sunny, luxuriant hallway of the main house had made on him.

  Seeing that, I thought the place was wealthy. Now, I’m not that sure.

  The air was damp and cold here, and the place had a smell of dust and general lack of care.

  At length, they reached the ground. A light burned brighter here, and Alexander felt a sudden relief.

  “Here we are,” the woman said. “See the door? That’ll take us into the garden. Neat, eh?” she grinned. Here, he could see the pale skin of her face, eyes twinkling. “Nobody can see ye from the house, this way.”

  “Very good,” he murmured.

  Somehow, he felt that might be useful information. He hadn’t noticed any of the doors they’d passed through having locks. He stored the information in his head and walked slowly forward.

  “Here we are,” his newfound friend said, resting her hand on a handle and opening it slowly, the hinges squealing in need of tending. “It’s locked after dark. Still open now, though. Be sure to come back before eight o’ clock. We wouldn’t want ye missing dinner.”

  She winked and he grinned and bowed to her, causing her to blush.

  “Thanks for your help, Miss,” he said. “I’m Alexander.” He held out a hand.

  “Oh!” She blushed. She was so different from her confident mistress!

  What a sight it would be to see her blush, eh?

  The thought made him smile grimly. He was sure Adeline was incapable of blushing.

  “Well, my name’s Barra, sir. A pleasure tae meet you.”

  “Thank you, Barra,” he said.

  He allowed himself the pleasure of witnessing her blush even redder, then hurried out into the fragrant garden.

  The night was chilly, and he was glad he’d thought to grab the cloak that somebody had left for him. A gentle wind blew, something he hadn’t noticed earlier. He drew the cloak about him, wanting its warmth. Under it, he had only a long nightshirt, and the worker’s shoes. Feeling somewhat foolish, promising himself not to go too far, he followed the curve of the wall about the garden.

  At the place where a hedge touched the wall, he stopped. He could hear voices.

  He let himself slide down the wall so his head didn’t show over the hedge, and listened.

  “I can’t believe it,” he heard. The voice he recognized instantly. Lady Adeline!

  Heart thumping, he leaned closer, to listen.

  He let his eye find a gap in the leaves. Creeping forward, he could just see through the gap. The garden was darkening, the sky the strange magical blue of dusk. He could see a tall tree, and the stone bowl shape of a fountain. Closer, he could see a shadowy form.

  As he watched, the form – Adeline’s form – sank down to the wall of the fountain. She sat on it, her face covered in her hands, a gesture of immense sorrow.

  “What can I do?”

  He had no idea what had distressed her so, but he knew that he wanted to know. He felt a terrible prickle of guilt. What if it was something to do with him?

  You’re full of fancies! How could it be?

  He shook his head at himself, knowing he was being ridiculous.

  “I don’t know what to do about him,” she said. “Damn the man!”

  He felt his cheeks lift in a grin. If he was the person that she was talking about, he was far too impressed to be offended. A woman, of her standing, saying such a rude word? He wanted to laugh aloud.

  She’s strong, like Brenna. But Brenna would never have used such words!

  She was very like Brenna, he realized, watching her. The evening light made her face a pale oval, back lighting that curvaceous form. Tall, strong, and beautiful, much as Brenna had been. However, where Brenna was gentle and tolerant, this woman was wrought of steel.

  “I’m being foolish. I must wed.”

  Here we go, he thought, grim-faced. It was as he’d expected. She had a suitor, and she was disturbed about it. His presence in the house wouldn’t look good either, he knew – a renegade soldier, with no right to be there.

  I need to go.

  As he watched, he heard another set of footsteps cross the lawn. A tall form came out to the garden. He couldn’t see them properly in the dark, but he saw a tall shadow.

  Adeline stood.

  The words the pair exchanged were too soft for him to hear. He inc
hed forward, and then a branch cracked. He tensed.

  The tall man spun round, looking at the hedge.

  “Mama?” he said.

  “It’s a bird, Tam,” his mother soothed. “Or a fox. You’re too ready to defend me.”

  The young man laughed. “Well, I’m worried about you, mama,” he said. “You haven’t been yourself.”

  “Oh, son,” she said, and Alexander saw her rest a hand on his cheek, fondly. “I have neglected you. And the estate, and…everything.”

  “Mama, you haven’t,” he said firmly. “Why would you say that?”

  “Oh, but I have,” she whispered. “And now…it’s a mess, Tam. And I’m sorry.”

  “Come, Mama,” Tam said softly. “Come inside. You needn’t come down to dinner. Barra can fetch you a tray. And maybe some of that tea you like? The healer at Duncliffe sent a new box.”

  “Oh, Tam,” he heard her say fondly. “You are a good lad.”

  Alexander waited as their voices drifted, becoming fainter, until they were out of sight. Then he crawled out of his hiding place. Brushing debris and dust off himself, he slipped back into the dark passage.

  As he slid into bed, he tried to make sense of what he had heard. Something about a wedding, a man and an estate.

  “She’s been managing this place alone,” he realized slowly. “No wonder she’s concerned.”

  He had seen the disrepair of the servant’s hallway, smelled the stale lamp oil. The estate was getting poorer, he realized. No wonder she was afraid.

  “And now, in the middle of it all, I arrive and make things difficult.”

  He knew as well as anyone did that hosting strange men on your estate did not generally make a good impression. He was sure Adeline wasn’t happy about having him there. Pulling the coverlet over himself he lay back on the pillows, closed his eyes, and composed his thoughts.

  Maybe she could employ me?

  The idea had a sort of appeal. He could manage the place, set it to rights, fix things. Help train the men, maybe get the farms generating more income for the estate. It would give him enjoyable work, and mean that he saw her every day.

  “And live every day moping about her? Not likely, Alexander.”

  He had known more than a fair share of pain. This woman was the first since Brenna who had come close to touching his heart. Seeing her wed someone and be forever out of his reach would be hard – too hard.