Finlay bowed and left the room, understanding the King of England had a common bond with his laird from the Highlands of Scotland because of a young man they both cared for, but whose very existence could destroy the monarchy.
…
Blair blotted at her eyes. At first she’d tried to stop herself, thinking it was an invasion of privacy, but with the thought of facing the lonely bed without her husband, she found herself reading another one of Catriona’s letters to Dwight, glass of wine in hand. They seemed to have been kept in the trunk in stacks by year order and then the oldest on top.
Tonight’s letter had her imagining what it had been like for her husband’s mother.
My dearest Dwight,
Ye have a son. I have named him Finlay, and he shall bear the name Cameron because he is one of my clan. He has yer eyes and smile. Ken that he is healthy and well taken care of.
Nae, I willnae come to England. It would break my heart to join ye only to be looking in on something my son and I cannae have with ye. Please understand why I must stay here and guard my heart. If ye choose, I will let ye see yer son whenever ye wish.
Always,
Catriona
It became her nightly ritual—each evening climbing the stairs with a glass of wine to read one bundle of letters. The only thing that changed was that she carried them into the master bedchamber to feel close to Finlay.
My dearest Dwight,
It broke my heart to let ye and Finlay both go this time, but I think ye are right. He does need both of us. It would be selfish for me to always keep him here.
Please take good care of him and write to let me ken how he is and if yer other sons play with him.
Always,
Catriona
Years of letters went by in the evenings, but it was a week and a half before she read the letter that had her jumping up, nearly spilling her wine, and running for the study.
My dearest Dwight,
Upon his return, Finlay told me about all the wonderful things ye did together. He also said that his brothers played a cruel trick on him. They sent him on a hunt but wrote the message in code to purposely confuse him. Are they aware that he has a problem with reading, and those tasks are harder for him than most?
I missed seeing ye this time and was sad to hear ye had been detained on business. Please ken ye are never far from my thoughts.
Always,
Catriona
Once she’d pulled open the book, she saw it right away. The words she had believed to be an unknown language were actually substitutions for letters that should have been there.
His brothers—the arses—were trying to destroy Finlay’s chance to make this estate profitable. How could brothers be so cruel?
Over the next week, she worked to decipher the code and rewrote the figures into another journal. It was a painstaking process that had her eyes blurring so much by the time she made it up the stairs, she could almost resist reading the letters.
Almost.
My dearest Dwight,
I thought of ye today as I walked through the lavender on my way to our special spot. I’m reliving old memories now that business keeps ye from coming to visit us. I go there when something is troubling me. Usually, the memory of our special times wipes away any worries, but today that was no’ the case.
Our son has become distant. I believe sending him to Oxford was a mistake. Each time he comes home ’tis becoming more apparent that something or someone there is hurting him, and the thought of sending him back steals my breath.
He respects ye and only continues at the university to please ye. I havenae ever asked anything of ye, but I do ask that ye try to ease whatever is paining him.
Please,
Catriona
Tears stung her eyes as she folded the last letter of that bundle and put it away.
…
The next day, Blair sat at Finlay’s desk, new journals in hand, putting the accounts into her own words, using the method she had used back home to carefully track every coin as it came and went from the estate. It was a tedious task, like solving a puzzle. She dove into the task with a fervor similar to that of a woodpecker carving out its home in a tree or looking for its next meal.
A light rapping sounded at the door. She glanced up to see Jenny peeking in from the hall.
“Pardon, my lady, but ye have a guest.”
“Aye, send him in.” She was expecting a man to speak with her about the cultivation of the fields behind the estate and how best to use them.
“Oh no, my lady, it’s your sister-in-law, Prudence Quinton. Caldwell’s wife.”
“Och, show her in then.” Standing and leaving her work, she straightened out her skirts as the door swung in.
A girl close to her age, wearing a muted gray gown of a Puritan, strode into the room. No one had told her that Finlay’s brother had married a Protestant. Blair tensed at first but then relaxed at the prospect of having a sister of a different faith. The world might be a better place if everyone took such a view.
“’Tis so nice to meet ye. I’m Blair.”
“I am pleased to make your acquaintance and was happy to hear Finlay had found a wife.” Prudence’s dark hair was pulled up in a severe fashion that stretched her cheeks and made her appear older than she was.
“Jenny, will ye have some refreshments brought, please? We can take them out on the terrace since ’tis so lovely out.”
“Yes, my lady.” The housekeeper rushed from the room.
Blair moved closer to Prudence and considered embracing her new sister, but she thought better of it. Protocol in England for greeting someone you’d just met might be different, and she had ink stains all over her hands. Still, she’d never had a sister and wanted the lass to like her. She missed her talks with Kirstie—she would have her friend to return to on Cameron lands, but it was nice to know she might have a companion in England as well.
Holding her palms up, she apologized, “I’m so sorry. Do ye mind? I’ll go wash off and come back straight away.”
“Oh, one of the great pleasures in life is being able to write. I can wait right here.”
The comment put her at ease. The lass’s smile was infectious, despite her reserved appearance. Prudence sat, smiling, her dark eyes enthusiastic as if she was happy to be here. Blair already liked Caldwell’s wife.
After hurrying from the room, Blair washed quickly and returned to find her new sister standing over the desk, inspecting the books. Och, maybe they had even more in common. “Does Finlay let ye manage the accounts? Caldwell is so guarded with ours.”
Her cheeks turned hot. “Well, he doesnae ken I’ve been working on them, but I’ll tell him when he returns. I used to manage my father’s accounts.”
“It is astounding that a man would turn over his control. You must be good with numbers.”
Blair thought she heard a hint of censure hidden in the words, and she wondered if it was against Puritan beliefs for women to take interest in such matters. She brushed aside the concern.
“I quite enjoy it. ’Tis like a puzzle waiting to be solved.”
“Do you think he’ll be angry? I would hate to see my new sister-in-law banished to Scotland. I want you here so I can get to know you.” Maybe Prudence was looking forward to having a sister as well. The concern Prudence had for her warmed her heart, but at the same time, brought back the fear Finlay might not want her help.
“Nae, I’m hoping he’ll be pleased.”
Jenny appeared, tray in hand. “Och, let’s sit on the terrace.”
Once they’d settled outside, Blair asked, “I havenae met Caldwell yet. What’s he like?”
“He never sits still. He’s in London but due to come home soon.”
“I’m sure ye miss him. I cannae wait for my husband to return.”
“I was visiting my sister in the village when I heard Finlay was back. I rushed over, but to my surprise, he’d already left and I have more family.” Prudence laughed. It was a
lovely sound. Any suspicions the woman before her was involved in Finlay’s brothers’ attempt to sabotage her husband fled. Prudence seemed like most typical married women she’d met, uninterested in men’s affairs.
“He’ll be back soon. Mayhap we can have ye and Caldwell over for a visit.”
“I’d like that. We will have you over, too.”
They spent the next hour with Prudence offering her gossip on the locals and teaching her more about Finlay’s family, until the clouds turned darker.
“I must be on my way. It’s a long ride, and I’d like to not be caught out in a storm.”
“I agree, but I’m so thankful ye stopped by. ’Tis nice to have someone to call sister.”
“I’m pleased that I did, and I am so happy for Finlay that he found a woman as kind as you.”
She hugged Prudence, not caring about decorum. After all, she was family, and this had been a bright spot in her tedious tasks of cleaning and working on books.
After the lass had departed, her other guest arrived, and it was hours before she settled back at the desk to continue sorting out the mess Finlay’s estate manager had made of the books. Although she now felt pangs of doubt that Finlay would be pleased with her work on the accounts, she was proud of the plans that had been discussed with her second guest. And now she had a friend, a sister. The only thing she still needed was for her husband to come home.
…
Finlay had been gone two weeks, and while Blair’s days were spent repairing some area of the house or deciphering the journal, her evenings still found her climbing the stairs, glass in hand, to their room alone. Picking up the last bundle of letters, she was surprised to see the weight of the paper was different, thicker, and smoother.
The first one showed her why.
Catriona, my love,
I miss you, I miss your letters. I’m sorry. You know I have our son’s best interest at heart. His education will be what prepares him for independence and the ability to provide for his family in the future. I want him to be able to have the choices we did not.
My biggest regret in life is that I didn’t throw away this damned title and come to you. If there had been someone to take my place I would have.
Still, after all these years, I go on loving you,
Dwight
The rest of the letters were from the earl, and all spoke of his undying love. They all remained unsent, and the words tugged at her heart.
But the letter that hit her the hardest was the last one.
Catriona, my love,
My wife went to God last week. I am released from my obligation, and all I want to do is pass on my title and run to you, but I fear you gave up on me long ago. It has been torture these last few years not hearing from you. I never told you, because I knew you wouldn’t come, I built a house for you, for us.
When my heart has ached to be near you, I sit on the balcony and look out upon the fields of lavender I planted to make it feel like home for you.
Our son is a grown man who now needs to make a life of his own, and I’m an old man who needs to stop believing that hope exists where there is none. I will give the house to him soon because the ache grows deeper still, but maybe he can make a life and be happy here.
Still, after all these years, I go on loving you,
Dwight
Sobbing, she folded the letters and returned them to the trunk. She now felt an obligation to her husband to right the wrongs done him and a new duty to this house, to make it the home it was meant to be.
She slept peacefully for the first time since her husband had left, knowing that by the time Finlay returned, she would have solved his problem and proven her worth.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The sun was high on a hot, cloudless day, but even the heat couldn’t dampen Finlay’s mood as Catriona House came into view. Each time he’d seen it before he was filled with dread, but now his wife was in that house. He’d missed falling asleep next to her and waking to the feel of her petite, lithe body next to his.
The journey to Oxford and back had taken almost three weeks instead of the two projected. Days of rain on the return journey, along with the nun who had insisted she accompany the priest back to his lands, had brought one delay after another, but soon he would be home. Unfortunately, they would have to leave immediately to deliver the king’s message to Lachlan.
He smiled when he thought of what he’d always considered his true home, the Highlands. He’d never looked upon England as a place he could grow attached to, but as long as he had Blair with him, it would be home, too. Whether they were in this massive estate or his small cottage on Cameron lands, he could be content.
The gnawing started in his gut as it had for weeks. It was time to discover what was going on with the allowance the earl was giving him. The coin wasn’t going to the upkeep of his home, and he’d come to the conclusion, Mr. Gerrick was possibly never coming back and that may be for the best. Finlay committed to finding the error and making Catriona House self-sufficient.
Perhaps he would even ask Blair for her help. It was one of the reasons he’d wed her, because he’d seen over the years how capable she was and had admired how she’d run her father’s home. Could he entice her to do the same here without her finding out his secret shame?
Pulling to a stop in front of the estate, he was surprised that two men came to greet them. “My lord, welcome home. I am George, your new stable master. This is Abe. He will be my assistant.”
“Welcome,” he said as he passed off the reins. The men moved to help the priest, nun, and the large contingent of the king’s soldiers who had ridden along to ensure their safety on the trip. Charles had instructed that they only accompany him to Middlesbrough and then see the nun back to Oxford. He’d not gotten a good look at her face beneath the robes—she kept it well hidden—but based on the way she had been guarded, he had a suspicion the woman was no nun at all.
When he turned to face the house, a flurry of cream and pink skirts appeared as Blair rushed toward him. A smile bubbled up as something inside him warmed. He loved that she didn’t stand on ceremony and wait for him like a tin soldier like he’d seen his stepmother do for his father. The joy on Blair’s face at his return tugged a place in him he didn’t know existed.
She ran right into his waiting arms, nearly knocking him back with the force. Scooping Blair up, he breathed her in. The mix of exotic flowers and lavender eased his tired soul and woke parts of him that urged him to carry her up to their chamber and never leave.
“Welcome home, husband.” She squeezed her arms around him, paying no heed to the others in the group.
“Aye, wife, ’tis good to see ye.” Her grip slipped, but as it did, her hand slid down to grasp onto his.
“When ye didnae show, I started to worry.”
“I have brought more guests.” He indicated the group.
She bowed her head to the priest and nun.
“This is Sister Margaret. She’ll be staying with us a few days. Ye have already met Father Thomas, and these are king’s men who have joined us to ensure a safe journey home.”
“I’ll have Jenny prepare rooms straight away. Please, everyone is welcome in the parlor, I’m sure Andrew can find ye some refreshments.”
Threading her hand through his arm, she pulled him toward the house. “I have so much to show ye.”
Andrew was waiting at the top of the steps. “Welcome home, my lord.”
“Thank ye, Andrew.”
Stepping into the foyer, he noticed the changes immediately—the musty smell was gone, the hanging art and surfaces that were previously covered in dust were now polished and shining. Everything smelled of lemon, and there seemed to be a glow about the place that wasn’t there before.
Blair whispered a few words to the butler, who guided all of the guests in, while she continued to pull him down the hall toward his study.
His office even smelled of citrus and had been cleaned. It was almost like a new room, b
ut his eyes were drawn to the chair in front of his desk. A smile crept up his cheeks as he remembered his last night in here with his wife.
After shutting the door, he locked it, picked her up, and strode toward the chair. She squeaked but then gave a giggle. His lips were already on hers before he was fully seated, enjoying the honey sweetness of her tongue as she arched into him. Her laughter melted into a content sigh.
Pulling back, he rested his forehead on hers while he caught his breath. “What did ye want to show me?”
She blinked as if he’d completely thrown her off course, and the knowledge that he had kissed her senseless made his heart yearn to do it again.
A frantic knock sounded at the door. “Just a moment,” he called out as he rose and gently let his wife slide from his body. He groaned as he realized his cock was already hard and hungry for his wife. “We will finish this later.”
Taking a step away from temptation, he announced, “Enter.”
Robbie rushed into the room, his gaze flying about. “Did the priest come back with ye?”
“Aye.”
“Do ye ken where I can find him?”
“In the parlor, but I had Andrew bring him and the guests some refreshments. If ye wish to speak with him in private, ye will have to ask him to join ye in the chapel.”
“Did he come alone?”
“Nae, a nun accompanied us on the return.”
“Thank ye,” he said, bolting from the room as if he didn’t confess his sins to the man soon, he’d be pulled into the pits of hell by the devil himself. He suddenly realized why the woman had kept her face hidden, and why so many of the king’s men escorted them home—the nun was the queen come to visit her son.
He glanced toward the door Robbie had left ajar in his hasty departure. Another figure appeared. Brodie watched them with a knowing smirk on his face, as if he understood the need for a man and woman to reconnect after a long absence. “Och, I cannae wait to get back to Skye.”
“Ye willnae have to wait long. We must leave for Cameron lands within a couple days.”
“Why the rush?” Brodie asked.
“I promised my wife we would only be in England for a short time. I fear ’tis time I took her back to meet my mother.” It was all true, but he could tell no one of the king’s message to his laird. As far he knew, he shouldn’t even share the information with Malcolm, the laird’s brother.
Highland Salvation (Highland Pride) Page 19
