The Virgin of Clan Sinclair (27 page)

“Not long,” he said. “I may stop by Huntly to make sure Ellice is well.”

She was nearly swamped by love. On their wedding day, he’d taken Ellice and Enid as his own, caring for them, fussing over them, loving them.

“She’s still on her honeymoon,” she said. “Would that be entirely proper?”

He entered the bathing chamber. She sat listening to running water, his comments about the hot water, and the accompanying splashing.

Standing, she walked to her armoire, opened it and retrieved the basket she’d packed and stored there.

“Perhaps not,” he said, moving from the bathing chamber to her side, a towel wrapped around his waist.

Her heart stuttered at the sight of him and that one lone droplet traveling down his chest.

She wanted to lick it off.

“What is that?” he asked.

“A compromise,” she said, placing the basket on the bed. She crawled up on the end, removed her wrapper and smiled at his indrawn breath.

Good, he’d noted that her décolletage was very low. Had he also noticed that her nipples were erect?

Reaching over, she opened the basket, folding back the top.

“This is a packet of herbs Brianag mixed for me,” she said, holding it up. “I take it in a tea every evening. I will continue to take it every night for the rest of my life if necessary.” She glanced at him. “It’s ghastly.”

He hadn’t moved. Nor had he grabbed his pillow and the coverlet to sleep on one of the settees, as he’d done often enough in the last two months.

“The sponge and acidic solution are from Dr. Thorburn. He’s found that it’s very successful in preventing pregnancy. I’ve already used one,” she said. “It’s quite easy.”

He didn’t say a word, so she moved on to the next item.

“These are for you, I understand.” She stared at the bulge beneath the towel. “I don’t know how you’re to put them on, but I haven’t spent much time reading the instructions. Do you speak French?”

“What are you doing, Virginia?”

“I’m seducing you,” she said, looking directly at him. “I understand your fear. I do, Macrath. I also know that I can’t live the rest of my life without your touch. I’ll go mad. Maybe I’ll even take a lover.”

“That’s not going to happen,” he said, his cheeks taking on a bronze color.

“Then you will simply have to ensure I’m satisfied.”

She took out another jar.

“I’m supposed to use this before we love,” she said, opening the jar and smelling the contents. Something minty and not unpleasant. “This,” she held up a brown bottle, “is to be used after we’ve loved.”

“Anything else?”

She peered into the basket. “Just a few more things. I’ll gladly take all of them.”

“What happens if you get pregnant?”

“Then it will be a child ordained by God,” she said. “Especially in view of all these preventatives.”

“What if I lose you?”

She slid from the bed, coming to stand in front of him.

“What if nothing happens? What if we’re happy? Macrath, you took chances when everyone told you it was foolish. You decided what you wanted and went after it, keeping your own faith, deciding it would happen.”

“This is a little different.”

“No,” she said, slapping her hand against his bare chest, “it’s exactly the same thing. I want you and I refuse to admit any barrier to that.”

He looked past her to the bed and the assembled products.

“You’ll be safe?”

“I’ll be safe.”

“Promise me.”

She understood what he was asking. He was asking for absolutes, and there were none in life. Oh, perhaps one. She absolutely adored him.

Standing on tiptoe, she kissed him lightly on the mouth. “I promise.”

She didn’t get a chance to say another word before he grabbed her.

Chapter 30

D
awn came to Huntly with none of the power of a Drumvagen morning. Instead, the sun peeked over the crest of the hill almost in apology for disturbing the great house. Pale pink and blue streaks sat against a sky not yet wakened from night. The birds greeted the day with soft chirps; the morning breeze was gentle on her cheeks.

Ross had left her a few minutes ago.

“I’ll be back in a few hours,” he said. “After three days away, I’m certain there are a variety of details I need to address.”

She’d nodded, kissed him, and watched as he left her bed and room.

Unable to roll over and sleep, she rose and walked to the terrace door. Carved balusters and railings painted white surrounded a pale pink tiled floor. Four white ceramic pots in each corner held miniature yews, and two iron benches sat opposite each other in the middle of the space. She sat facing east, the view overlooking the expanse of lawn.

Would she ever become accustomed to the size of Huntly? Or to the wealth it represented?

She didn’t care about the Forster fortune. All she truly cared about was Ross. From the beginning, he’d treated her differently. She wasn’t invisible to him. He made her feel singled out. Not anyone else, just her. She felt safe with him, in a way she couldn’t explain. Yet no one else had the power to hurt her like he did. His opinion mattered. His judgment counted.

She was in love. Why hadn’t she told him how she felt?

Cassandra had hurt him, perhaps more than he knew. Was he capable of loving anyone again?

He needed to trust her, first. Perhaps if he did, he’d feel free enough to love.

She was going to have to do something, a grand gesture like one Lady Pamela would make. Something that would ensure he trusted her. Something to make him understand exactly how she felt.

She rang for Pegeen then sat down at her desk and wrote a note. Before the maid arrived, she peeked out her door, motioning to one of the ever-present footmen stationed there.

“Yes, your ladyship?”

“Will you make sure my husband gets this? He should be in the library.”

The man surprised her by shaking his head. “We’re not supposed to enter the library, your ladyship.”

“Even to take him a message? He won’t mind,” she said. “I promise.” She smiled at the man, but it didn’t seem to reassure him one bit.

Another change she’d make at Huntly. Why wish to share the treasures of the Huntly library with the rest of Scotland when they were forbidden to the staff?

After explaining what she needed to the stable master, he nodded and provided one of the carriages, along with a driver she recognized.

Harvey nodded when she told him their destination.

She entered the carriage, settling herself in for a few hours of travel. The quicker they made it to Drumvagen, the better.

R
oss had removed his father’s portrait from the public rooms five years ago. The only place the fourth Earl of Gadsden remained was the Earl’s Gallery, a light and airy room in the north wing. Several portraits of each of the previous earls stood in the sunlight, staring out at the floor-to-ceiling windows on one side of the room.

One day, someone might stand here and wonder about the man, note the handsomeness of his features, the rigid pose featuring him standing in the Red Parlor, one hand on his hip, the other at his side. Studying his eyes, the fourth earl didn’t look restless, but rather, empty.

Had his father been lonely? The thought had never occurred to him before. He’d always considered his mother’s point of view but never his father’s.

His marriage to Cassandra had not been one of kindred minds and hearts. He’d been busy with his life, intrigued by his studies. When he thought of Cassandra, he realized that she didn’t figure in the important moments. He couldn’t see her in his memories.

He’d ignored her until she was no more important to him than a doorstop, a realization that didn’t sit well.

He couldn’t imagine doing the same to Ellice. He couldn’t even stay away from her for a week.

Had Cassandra been as miserable with him as his mother had been with his father? Another thought he’d never had until this moment.

He’d not been guilty of infidelity, but he’d matched his father in inattentiveness.

But Cassandra had found someone to notice her, hadn’t she?

Before leaving Huntly, his father had left him a note.

Forgive us, if you can, Ross. We don’t do this to hurt you but to find some measure of joy together.

Had she found that happiness? Had both of them? Had those short weeks together given them the joy they wanted, payment enough for their actions?

He would never know, but for the first time, he hoped they’d found it together.

Walking to the window, he stared out at the lake.

The day was glorious. The morning sun bathed Huntly in an otherworldly glow, as if he’d been given a sight of heaven.

His life had changed. He hadn’t planned it, but it had altered the moment he’d gone to Drumvagen. A woman with sparkling brown eyes had forced him to confront himself, and now he couldn’t avoid what he’d discovered.

When had it happened? At Drumvagen in the Great Hall when she’d stood there with her arms folded, nearly daring him to kiss her? Or when she’d emerged from the carriage, voluble and fascinating? Or that dawn in the gazebo when he’d wanted to hold her in his arms and comfort her?

Somewhere along the way, he’d fallen in love with his wife.

Everything now paled in importance to that fact.

“You don’t come here often,” his mother said from the doorway.

He turned, surprised to see her there.

She walked into the room, glancing around. “Neither do I.”

She moved to stand in front of his father’s portrait. After studying it for a moment, she joined him at the window.

“Why have you?” she asked.

“A moment of memory,” he said. “Or perhaps honesty.”

“You have to let it go, Ross. You’ve spent a good deal of your life trying to make up for your father’s scandal. But there comes a time when you have to stop thinking about the past and focus on the present and the future.”

“As you have?” he asked.

“As I have,” she said, nodding.

She stood with her hands clasped in front of her, a proper countess in so many ways. But there had always been a bit of a dreamer about his mother, a tender soul in a life not especially easy, for all its wealth and privilege.

“I have,” he said. For the first time, it was the truth. He had given it up.

Even more importantly, he understood.

Maybe the fourth Earl of Gadsden had been as stunned as he was now, realizing that his life, his emotions, even his thoughts, were no longer his own.

What would he have done if Ellice had been married to someone else? If he’d found himself as adrift in lust and love as he felt now? He would have let nothing stand between them, not writ or rule or another human being.

Would he have thought of anyone else but himself and her? Would he have considered the ramifications of his actions?

It’s quite possible that he wouldn’t have cared. That scandal could have surfeited him, and it wouldn’t have mattered as long as she was by his side.

Was love that selfish?

He’d used that word in describing his father, thinking that the man was self-absorbed, caring only for his own pleasure without regard to anyone else.

But as he stood there, Ross knew he would have done the same if the woman had been Ellice.

“Ellice is a lovely girl,” his mother said, startling him. “I wondered about the haste of your wedding. I thought you were making a mistake.”

“You never said anything.”

She glanced at him with a smile. “When have you ever listened to me, Ross? You consider me a foolish woman occupying her days with buying trinkets.”

Perhaps he had, once, but not since meeting McMahon.

“But now, I’m glad you married her. Overjoyed, in fact. I no longer need to worry about you.”

“There was no need to worry about me in any case, Mother.”

“Of course I did, you being so afraid of feeling anything.”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, Ross, I’ve watched you the last five years. You’ve been very proper, very contained, but I’m afraid it’s because you were afraid to be vulnerable again. You didn’t want to be hurt the way Cassandra hurt you.”

He stared out at the lake, not knowing how to respond.

“Then Elise came into your life. You’re half startled, half delighted she’s the way she is.”

He glanced over at her.

“I’ve watched you with her. It’s almost magical, the effect she has. You’ve laughed more in the last weeks than I’ve ever heard you. You smile more. You aren’t buried in the library at all hours.”

Had he changed that much? Yes, he had. He was—and for a moment he fumbled for the word—happy.

“Life is so much more magical when love is the filter through which you view it,” his mother said. “I’m not saying loving your father was comfortable. This time, I’d prefer to have my love returned.”

“Mr. McMahon.”

She wound her arm around his. “I hope so, dear.”

Had he ever known his mother? He was beginning to think not, just as he was wondering if life had been a giant mirage he’d never understood until now.

“Did you ever consider that it’s because of your father that the two of you married?”

He frowned at her. “What do you mean?”

“If you hadn’t been beset by nostalgia, you wouldn’t have gone to Drumvagen. You and Ellice wouldn’t have met.”

He’d never considered that, either.

“Are you in love with her, Ross?”

“Yes,” he said without having to consider it.

“Then why has she left?”

He turned to her. “What do you mean?”

She sighed. “I saw the carriage leave an hour ago, dear.”

“The carriage?”

Could he do nothing but ask questions?

“Ellice was in it, along with Pegeen.”

“You’re wrong.”

“I’m not, you know. Wherever has she gone?”

He couldn’t think. Nor could he put two words together. He left his mother standing there and flew down the stairs, his destination the stables.

She couldn’t leave him.

“She’s gone to Drumvagen, your lordship,” the stable master said.

“Ready a coach,” he told the man. “With the fastest horses I own.”

The man nodded and bowed his way out of Ross’s sight.

Was he that terrifying? Perhaps he was.

Ellice had left him.

He walked to his room, readying himself for the journey. If Macrath gave her safe harbor, he’d reason with the man. If that didn’t work, he’d fight for his wife. He’d damn well lay siege to Drumvagen.

She couldn’t leave him. Not now.

He felt like he’d been asleep before meeting Ellice. She made him wonder what she was thinking. She brought him amusement, and he’d not felt humor for a very long time. She forced him to examine himself. She challenged him to be a better man.

He wanted to share his future with her. He wanted to confide in her, tell her those thoughts that kept him awake for hours, those insecurities plaguing him.

How could he do all that if she left him?

What would you do for love, Ross?

Anything, for her.

“I
t’s a lovely place, isn’t it?” Pegeen said, peering out the window. “A bit small and all, after Huntly, but a charming house.”

She had never thought Drumvagen small, but compared to Huntly, it certainly was. Drumvagen could be placed in Huntly’s courtyard. But the house was noisy and filled with life, one thing that couldn’t be said about Huntly.

She had the driver go around to the back. When the carriage, a beautiful vehicle with pale gray velvet cushions and ebony lacquer exterior, finally stopped, she motioned for Pegeen to precede her.

Closing her eyes, she said a quick prayer that this task could be accomplished with a minimum of fuss. She wanted to talk to Virginia, first, while avoiding her mother.

That thought died a frustrating death the minute she stepped from the carriage.

“Oh, will you stop, you harridan!”

She sighed.

Macrath didn’t tolerate their arguing within Drumvagen, so Brianag and her mother tried to keep their battles either out of earshot or outside. Evidently, Macrath was in the house, which was the reason they were in garden.

“It’s not the province of a gardener to decide a lady’s garden. It’s for a lady to give the gardener instructions.”

Brianag said something incomprehensible, followed by her mother’s near scream.

She glanced at Pegeen, whose smile lightened her mood. Perhaps the two women were amusing if one didn’t have to hear them often.

She looked toward the kitchen door. Could she make it before either women realized a strange coach was in the drive?

No, she couldn’t.

“Child!”

Suddenly, she was enveloped in a flurry of fragrant black silk, her mother’s embrace nearly choking her. A moment later Enid stepped back and examined her, from the top of her head to her shoes, peeping out from beneath the hem of one of her new dresses.

At least she had the foresight to look like the Countess of Gadsden.

“Where is your dear husband? Why are you here? Is something wrong? Why have you come back to Drumvagen?”

In the next instant her mother had placed her hand over her mouth, her eyes widening.

“Don’t say you’ve left your husband, Ellice.” Before she could answer, her mother continued, “I won’t have it.”

Time seemed to slow as Ellice took a step back.

Pegeen, at her side, had the wisdom to retreat.

The breeze smelled of roses. Would she always smell them and think of Drumvagen? For that matter, would she always recall this exact moment?

Her heart beat a steady rhythm, but so loudly it echoed in her ears. Her mouth was dry and her movements slow as she lowered her hands to her sides, raised her head and straightened her shoulders.

Perhaps it was the time she’d spent as a wife, or being a countess in her own right. Perhaps it was being away from Drumvagen and her mother’s eternal meddling, chiding, and criticism. Or perhaps it was simply that she’d had enough and this point had to be reached sooner or later.