The Heiress Bride

by Catherine Coulter

  “Sit down, both of you. Now, my head is awhirl. The Virgin Bride came to you, Alex? She told you I was ill?”

  Before she could answer, the door opened and Mrs. Seton, bearing a large silver tray, her dark eyes nearly crossed in her excitement, came into the drawing room. To a stranger she would have looked stiff and proper as a duchess, only Sinjun wasn’t fooled for a minute.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Seton,” she said formally, maintaining Mrs. Seton’s pose. “These two ladies are here to visit us awhile. They are my sisters-in-law, the countess of Northcliffe and Mrs. Ryder Sherbrooke.”

  “Charmed, my ladies,” Mrs. Seton said, and gave them a curtsy that would have done justice to the Queen’s drawing room. She lacked but a feather in her hair.

  “I shall prepare Queen Mary’s room and the Autumn Room,” she added with more ceremony than Sinjun’s mother would have deemed appropriate, and proffered another quite impressive curtsy. “The footmen are seeing to your valises. Emma will unpack for you.”

  “You are very kind, Mrs. Seton. Thank you.”

  “This is the laird’s castle, my lady. Everything is done properly here.”

  “Yes, certainly,” Sinjun said, and watched Mrs. Seton take herself out of the room. “Phew! I never knew Mrs. Seton had quite so much . . .”

  “I don’t know the word, either, but it was impressive,” Alex said.

  “Also we only have one footman, Rory, and he does everything in addition to any footing. However, Emma is an excellent girl and it is she who will take care of you. Now, back to the Virgin Bride.”

  Before Alex could say anything, the drawing room door opened again and Colin strode into the room like the master of his castle, looking at once belligerent and wary. He saw only two young ladies seated beside his wife, cups of tea in their elegant, albeit somewhat wrinkled, gloved hands. The one he recognized as Douglas’s wife. Oh Lord, the bounder had to be here somewhere. He craned to see the rest of the room.

  “Where are they? Are they armed this time? Pistols or foils? Are they hiding behind the sofa, Joan?”

  Sinjun laughed, a weak laugh, but it made him smile.

  “Good lord,” Sophie said, and stared at her sister-in-law’s husband. “You look like a bandit!”

  Indeed, if a bandit were wearing naught but a white flowing shirt, unlaced at the top to show some of his hairy chest, and tight black knit breeches and black boots, his black hair windblown, his face tanned from the summer sun, then Colin was a bandit. Sophie happened to look at Sinjun. Her sister-in-law was staring at her husband with such wistful besottedness that it made Sophie lower her gaze.

  Colin looked at his wife then, saw her pallor, and frowned. He strode to her, leaned down, and lightly pressed his palm to her forehead. “No fever, thank God. How are you? Why are you downstairs? Philpot was more concerned about telling me that you’d been tottering about than he was about our visitors. Welcome, ladies. Now, Joan, what the devil are you doing downstairs?”

  “I was growing mold in bed,” she said, and raised her hand to touch his jaw, the cleft in his chin. “I couldn’t bear it any longer. Please, I’m fine, Colin. These are my sisters-in-law. You know Alex already. This is Sophie, Ryder’s wife.”

  Colin was charming but cautious. “Ladies, a pleasure. Where are your husbands?” he asked as soon as could be, still standing, still wary.

  “They’ll be coming,” Sinjun said. “But it will take a while, I hope, because Alex and Sophie are smart.”

  “Smarter than you were, I trust,” he said. He turned to the ladies. “We arrived in my house in Edinburgh to find Douglas and Ryder already in residence, waiting to kill me. It was my manservant’s blunderbuss that saved us.”

  “And put a big black hole in the drawing room ceiling.”

  “That was a sight,” Colin said. “Actually, it still is. I haven’t yet had it repaired.”

  Alex looked very interested. “Odd that Douglas didn’t mention that. He did mention your house in Edinburgh, Colin, but no talk of violence. What was the other time they attacked you? He said nothing about another time, either.”

  Colin flushed, Alex was sure of it. Her curiosity rose to unprecedented heights. She happened to look at Sinjun and saw that she was utterly crimson, all the way to her hairline.

  Sinjun said quickly, “Colin, they got together and came to me because of the Virgin Bride.”

  “Isn’t that the ghost at Northcliffe Hall you were telling the children about?”

  “Children?” Alex said blankly.

  Colin flushed again as he was lifting a cup of tea. He moved about in his seat. “Yes,” he said, “children.”

  “I have two wonderful children,” Sinjun said smoothly. “Philip and Dahling. They are six and four, and delightful little heathens, just like all our others. I told Colin all about Ryder’s Beloved Ones.”

  “You didn’t mention the children in your letters, Sinjun,” Sophie said, her voice reproachful.

  “Well, no. You see—” She stalled. “Colin, the Virgin Bride came to Alex and told her I was ill. So she and Sophie came as quickly as they could get away, because they were worried about me.”

  “It was more than that,” Alex said, allowing herself to be sidestepped. Another mystery. It was fascinating. “She also said you were in trouble.”

  “Oh dear,” Sinjun said, and looked at her husband, who appeared sincerely puzzled. Douglas would have been sneering and carping on about idiot nonsense. Ryder would have been laughing his head off.

  “There is no trouble,” Colin said. ‘Well, maybe a bit, but nothing I can’t handle. What the devil is going on here? I want the truth now, all of it.”

  “We have come for a visit,” Alex said, giving him a fat smile. “A simple visit, that’s all. We will oversee things until Sinjun is well enough to take over again. Isn’t that right, Sophie?”

  “Exactly,” Sophie agreed, nodding as complacently as a maiden aunt as she ate her second scone. “We both have different household talents, you see, Colin, thus the both of us are necessary so that all may continue to run smoothly. Delicious tea, Sinjun.”

  Colin looked at her, one dark brow arched up a good inch. “Indeed,” he said. “Joan is blessed in her relatives.”

  “Joan?” Sophie said, frowning. “Wherever did you get that, Colin?”

  “I prefer it to her man’s nickname.”

  “Oh. But—”

  “It doesn’t matter, Sophie,” Sinjun said, adding quickly, ‘Thank you both for coming. I’m so glad you did.” She added, without thinking, “It’s been rather harrowing.”

  “What do you mean?” Sophie asked, licking a dollop of sweet raspberry jam from her finger.

  Sinjun darted a look at her husband, saying quickly, “Later, Sophie, we will speak of it later.”

  Colin was frowning ferociously. “You will go back to bed, Joan. You look pale as my shirt and you’re sweating like a Caerlaverock goat. I don’t like it. Come along. I’ll carry you up. I want you to stay in bed this time. I’ll tell you when you can get up again.” He didn’t wait for her to reply, merely picked her up in his arms and carried her to the door. He said over his shoulder, “You may follow us, if you like, ladies. It will help you get the lay of the land.”

  And so Sophie and Alex, relieved that Sinjun was all right and confused to their eyebrows at the notion of children and harrowing things, silently followed their brother-in-law up the impossibly wide staircase.

  “Think of it as an adventure,” Alex said to Sophie behind her hand. “Would you look at the gentleman in that portrait! Goodness, he’s naked!”

  Colin smiled but didn’t turn, merely said over his shoulder, “That’s my great-great-grandfather, Granthan Kinross. The stories have it that he lost a wager with a neighbor, the result being that he had to have his portrait painted without his plaid. There is a judiciously placed yew bush in front of him, though.”

  “What was the wager?” Alex asked.

  “The story goes that Granthan wa
s a wild young man and much in demand with all the local ladies. He took it on as his mission in life to see that they were all happy. One neighbor said Granthan would never seduce his wife no matter what his blandishments, because of her unflagging virtue, and a bet was made. The wife, it turns out, was really a young man in disguise and Granthan did indeed lose the bet and his clothes for the painting.”

  Sophie laughed. “You’re right, Alex. It’s going to be a grand adventure.”

  That evening after dinner Sophie and Alex came to Sinjun’s bedchamber and settled themselves by her bed. Colin let them be, adjourning himself to the children’s nursery.

  “No, don’t ask about my health again. I’m fine, just bloody weak. I got sick from a good dousing in the rain, nothing more, nothing less, except that Aunt Arleth tried to kill me.”

  Sophie and Alex gaped at her.

  “The devil you say,” Alex said at last.

  Sophie said, “She’s a sour old thing—not at all happy to see us, I can tell you that!—but to try to kill you? Why?”

  “She doesn’t want me here, just my groats. Maybe not even my groats, I’m not certain. When I was ill, Colin was in Edinburgh. She opened windows, left me alone; all in all, she sent me to the edge of oblivion. Philip rode by himself throughout the night to fetch his father. He’s a wonderful little boy. Later she tried again. I don’t know if she was really serious, perhaps she’s just unhinged. She speaks of many things but makes little sense. Now, what do you think of my children?”

  “They were only allowed for a few minutes in the drawing room. They’re the image of their father, which is to say that they’re quite handsome. Dahling hid behind her father’s leg, her thumb in her mouth, but Philip came to me and said he was glad we were here. He lowered his voice and told us to be careful for you. He didn’t want you hurt again. You have quite a champion there, Sinjun. He will also break ladies’ hearts one of these years.”

  “Just as his father, hopefully, won’t break mine.”

  “Why should he?‘ Alex demanded. ”You’re everything a man could wish for in a wife.”

  “My heroine,” Sinjun said fondly, patting her sister-in-law’s hand.

  “There are problems,” Alex said. “You might as well tell us everything, Sinjun. I have this dreadful presentiment that the husbands will arrive here yelling and demanding our heads by dawn tomorrow morning.”

  “No,” Sinjun said firmly. “We’ll have more than two days of respite before the husbands descend. We must. You two did very well. It will take them time to get together and make their plans. Didn’t you say Ryder was with Tony at Ascot?”

  “Yes, but that won’t matter,” Sophie said. “I agree with Alex. Somehow they’ll know and they’ll get together. Tomorrow at dawn. And you know how they’ll behave—Douglas will be enraged because Alex is pregnant and traveling without his godship’s permission, and Ryder will want to skin my hide for keeping secrets from him.”

  Alex just laughed but didn’t disagree. “No, don’t worry about me, I feel grand. No more retching in indecorous places, thank God! At least I haven’t retched in a day and a half. Talk, Sinjun.”

  “Sophie’s right. We must move quickly. Lying here whilst you were all downstairs gave me the perfect plan. I just need a bit of time to get it into motion.”

  “Plan for what?” Sophie asked.

  Sinjun began with the MacPhersons and moved on to Pearlin’ Jane, a ghost that both Sophie and Alex readily accepted.

  “Do you think,” Alex said thoughtfully when Sinjun paused in her recital, “that ghosts can somehow communicate with each other? How did the Virgin Bride know you were ill and in trouble? Did this Pearlin’ Jane tell her?”

  It was a question to which there was no answer. But Sinjun said, “Oh dear, I forgot to place Pearlin’ Jane’s portrait and the other two back in their places. She won’t like it and I did promise.”

  “What is all that about, do you know?”

  “Evidently Pearlin’ Jane wanted all the pearls she could get from the benighted earl, a long-ago Kinross who’d seduced her and left her and then killed her, and she wanted her portrait painted—from her lover’s memory, of course—and placed between his portrait and his wife’s. Every time it was moved, something unpleasant happened to either the master or the mistress of Vere Castle. Oh, not being struck down by a bolt of errant lightning, but just something unpleasant, like becoming ill eating something bad. I don’t want that to happen to me. I think Aunt Arleth moved all the portraits, hoping some affliction would strike me. I’m guessing, but it surely sounds like her.”

  “A thoroughly dreadful woman,” Alex said. ‘We’re here now so she doesn’t dare try anything.”

  “I find Serena the odd duck,” Sophie said as she dropped to her knees on the stone hearth and began to build up the fire. “So ethereal, in both her manner and her mode of dress. That gown she was wearing tonight was really quite lovely, not to mention very expensive. Now, that’s a good question. If Colin didn’t have any money, where did she get the gold for the gown? She was pleasant to us, don’t misunderstand me, but vague, cryptic, you could say.”

  “I’d say she’s daft,” Alex said.

  “Perhaps,” Sophie said thoughtfully. “But you know, Sinjun, it’s almost as if it’s all an act. I don’t think she’s so out of touch with things as she wants you to believe.”

  “She did tell me that Colin doesn’t love me, that he loves Another. She also likes to kiss him on the mouth when he doesn’t expect it. But on the other hand, she seems to accept me. She is certainly strange.” Sinjun shrugged and yawned. “As to the cost of her gowns, that’s an excellent question. Why don’t I ask her tomorrow?”

  “Only if your husband allows you out of bed,” Sophie said, and grinned at her.

  “Oh dear, you do look tired, Sinjun.”

  “All I need is another good night’s sleep,” Sinjun said firmly. “Tomorrow I must set my plan into motion. Day after tomorrow—no later—we must act. Don’t forget the husbands. They will come, no doubt about that.”

  “All right,” Sophie said. “We’ll pray you’re right about them not being here until Friday. We’ll breakfast with you tomorrow and you can tell us this plan of yours. All right?”

  “What plan?” Colin asked from the doorway.

  “He walks as quietly as Douglas does,” Alex said. “It’s provoking.”

  “Our plans for the day, naturally,” Sophie said smoothly, rising from her position in front of the hearth and dusting off her skirt. “Dividing up the housekeeping chores, all that sort of thing. Things that would never interest a gentleman; you know, Colin, discussing Alex’s pregnancy and how she feels, knitting blankets and tiny baby slippers—that sort of thing.”

  Colin appreciated her tactics. He said, a wolfish gleam in his dark blue eyes, “You think I have no interest in women’s matters? Why, they’re my matters, too. Goodness, as soon as I can manage it, Joan’s belly will be swelling up with my child.”

  “Colin!”

  “Yes, perhaps I’ll even take up knitting and the two of us can sit in front of the fire, our needles clicking away, selecting names for our progeny.”

  Sophie said, ignoring him, “There, the fire is set now for several hours. Thank you for letting us visit you, Colin. Come along, Alex. Good night, Sinjun.”

  When the door was closed, Colin walked to the bed and sat down. He gave his wife a brooding stare. “They are as dangerous as their husbands. It is only their stratagems that differ. I don’t trust them an inch. Nor you, for that matter. Now, you will tell me what’s going on, Joan.”

  She yawned again, this one manufactured specifically for the occasion. “Nothing at all. Goodness, I feel I could sleep a week.”

  “Joan, you are to stay out of my affairs,” he said quietly, too quietly.

  “Certainly,” she said, starting to pretend to another yawn and then changing her mind.

  He raised a brow at that. “You said a lot of things when I came ba
ck from Edinburgh. There were no brakes on your tongue when you were so ill. You went on and on about protecting me, not that that’s anything out of the ordinary or new, merely that there is MacPherson. I’m ordering you, my dear wife, to keep to the castle. You will leave me to deal with that bastard.”

  “He is very pretty,” she said without thinking, then realized what she’d done and gasped, her expression now perfectly horrified.

  “So,” Colin said, leaning closer to her now, his hands on the headboard of the huge bed, on each side of her face, “you have met Robbie, have you? When? Where?”

  She tried to shrug but it was difficult, for his fingers were now lightly stroking her throat. She wondered if he would strangle her. “I was riding and met him at Loch Leven. He was a bit nasty and I left him, nothing more, Colin.”

  “You’re lying,” he said, and sighed, rising to stand beside the bed.

  “Well, I did, ah, take his horse. Nothing more, I promise.” She paused, then opened her mouth, but he forestalled her.

  “You took his horse. Damnation, I never knew a woman could positively thrive on being so bloody meddlesome. No, don’t add to your deceit, just promise me that you will stay safe in the castle.”

  “No,” she said finally, “I can’t promise you that.”

  “Then I will have to lock you in our bedchamber. I won’t have you disobeying me, Joan. Robert MacPherson is a dangerous man. You had the cut on your cheek to prove it.”

  Sinjun felt only mildly concerned; after all, both Sophie and Alex were here. Amongst the three of them, they’d save Colin from any possible danger.

  “I agree,” she said. “He is dangerous. It’s odd since he is so pretty.”

  “Perhaps that has something to do with his viciousness, but I’m just guessing. As he grew into manhood, his face didn’t grow into hard lines, his features softened. He became more difficult, more severe and violent, inside and out. Now, wife, will you obey me?”

  “In most things, Colin, you know that I do willingly. But in some things you must grant me leave to behave as I deem proper and right.”