Amanda Scott (37 page)

Mary choked back a laugh, but Lady Balcardane did not hide her concern. “How dreadful! As if my lord, or you, my dear, would ever let our people starve.”

“I do think the lad embarrassed him,” Duncan said with a smile. “He went all brusque—you know his way, ma’am—and told everyone he would look after them if it meant spending his last groat, that they had nothing to fear.”

“Will we all go to the christening party?” Mary asked.

“Aye,” Duncan said. “It’s to be a week from tomorrow, so we’ll leave for Inver House Saturday morning unless the weather fails us.”

When Lady Balcardane asked how long they would stay, Mary made a swift mental survey of her meager wardrobe, wondering what, barring her wedding gown, she could furbish up sufficiently to make a suitable christening-party dress.

“Lud, where is Sir Neil?” Serena asked. “He must come, too. Papa did not know of his presence here, or I am certain he would have invited him.”

“He’s out in the stable,” Duncan said. “We’ll ask him, but he may prefer to retire for a time to Maclean House, you know. He has spent no time there yet, and he may have matters of his own to attend to.”

“I mean to ask him, in any case,” Serena said. “I hope you won’t be so prodigiously cruel as to refuse to let him accompany us.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said curtly, turning back to Mary. “Have you finished your breakfast?”

“Aye,” she said, though he could see for himself that she had not.

“Then come for a walk with me. I want to talk to you.”

Serena said archly, “I hope you are not still displeased with her, sir. I thought when she came so late to supper last night that she looked sadly distressed, and I know you were angry with her before then.”

The ensuing silence seemed to vibrate. Mary said nothing.

Duncan drew a long breath, then said sharply, “You are a great deal too busy, Serena. What passes between my wife and me is none of your business, and if you know what is good for you, you will cease your foolish efforts to stir trouble between us. No, don’t bother to deny it. I would not believe you. Come, Mary.”

She let him take her hand, excused herself to the countess, and left the dining parlor with him. He turned toward a nearby corner service-stairwell.

“Where are you taking me, sir?”

“Upstairs to our room.”

She said gently, “That is a matter we should discuss first, I think.”

“Nonsense, you cannot have liked having to ring for Ailis to bring your clothes. I already told her to put your things in the room next to mine. Hardwick used to sleep there, before I went away to school.”

“Yes, I know. Ailis told me, but should you not ask what I want, Duncan? If you visit me in my room, I will not have to send for my clothes afterward.”

“We’ll talk about it upstairs,” he said.

Talk was not the first thing on his mind, however, for he set the lock on the door before he shut it.

“What are you—”

He silenced her by catching her in his arms and kissing her. “I’ve been thinking of doing that since I woke up this morning,” he said. “You looked so beautiful lying there that I had all I could do not to waken you and take you again. Today, madam, you may take my clothes off. I will help you,” he added, casting his coat and waistcoat across the room and undoing his neckcloth.

She chuckled. “Don’t you have work to do?”

“It can wait. I am taking a party of men out later to see if we can get news of MacCrichton or Breck’s whereabouts, but I don’t want to go hungry, lass.” He kissed her again. “I might not get home till late again. I’d have to wake you up.”

Although she made no effort to stay his hands when he began to unfasten her dress, she said gently, “I think we had better talk first, sir. I must warn you that I have thought of a way I can punish you for your domineering ways.”

“What domineering ways?” He pushed her gown from her shoulders and began loosening her stay laces.

“You ordered Ailis to move my things, sir. Since they are my things, I should decide if and when they will be moved.”

“I want you here, lass, sleeping with me. Your room is too far away. I could have them set up the room next door for you, I suppose, but that would be silly. I want you in my bed. We can arrange for adjoining rooms later, or find you one nearer to this one if you insist, but for now, surely my plan will do. Just how did you intend to punish me?”

His hands slid around to her breasts as he asked the question, making it hard to think, so she turned to face him, and to still his hands, she began unbuttoning his shirt as she said, “I looked to see how the locks on the doors worked. I was going to—” She gasped when he caught her hard by the shoulders and gave her a shake.

He said grimly, “Mary, if you don’t want to see what I’m like when I lose my temper, don’t even think of locking me out. Not ever. Not out of this room or any other where you are. No lock would stop me, lass, not for an instant.”

She believed him. Licking suddenly dry lips, she said, “I won’t do it then, of course, but am I to have no say, sir? Am I simply to let you order my coming and going, to do my thinking for me, and never again to take a part in making decisions that affect my life? You promised me that would not be so. You know you did.”

He did not reply. Taking a deep breath instead, he released her and stepped back shrugging off his shirt, then flinging it to join his coat and waistcoat. Mary remained where she was, with her dress and stays riding loosely on her hips. He stood silently, watching her for a long moment. Then he said, “Come here.”

“Duncan, I—”

“Come here, lass. I won’t bite, I promise. I’ll even admit that you are right. Before I told Ailis to move your things, I should have discussed it with you.”

Keeping her eyes fixed on him, she slowly pushed the clothing down. As dress and stays dropped in a heap to the floor and she stepped free of them, she said, “Will you promise me you won’t ever do such a thing again?”

“No. Come here.”

With a wry smile, she did as he commanded, saying as he enfolded her in his arms again, “I knew you would not.”

“Then you should not have asked such a foolish question. I can but try, Mary. I don’t make promises I know I won’t keep. That doesn’t mean I won’t try to show how much I value your opinions. It just means that I know I have developed a habit of making decisions without requiring much discussion.” Reaching for the hem of her chemise, he pulled the garment off over her head, adding, “Do you object to sleeping in the same bed with me?”

“N-no, sir.”

He stroked the curve of one naked breast, touching the tip of it with his thumb. “Do you object to having your clothes nearer at hand?”

“No, but do you understand why I was annoyed?”

“I do, but you will have better luck teaching me to heed your wishes if you can point out my mistakes without infuriating me in the process. There are two buttons on my breeches. You may unfasten them.”

After that, their activities continued with a sense of urgency, but she could not complain that he ignored her wishes, for he seemed more concerned than she was that she might still feel discomfort from the previous night. He was gentle, yet demanding, and she found that she liked the combination very much. He taught her new ways to please him, and showed her more ways that he could please her. When it was over, she lay beside him, sated, content, and relaxed.

The woods through which they rode seemed eerie and oddly still under a gray sunless sky. Even their horses’ hooves made no sound on the snow-covered track. The trees looked black, not just the leafless varieties but even the evergreens, as if Satan’s hand had touched them and turned them to charcoal. The shrubbery was dark and dense. No leaf stirred. No icicle dripped. No sound, anywhere.

The track forked ahead. One branch followed the river, the other wound into a shallow side glen. The river flowed silent and calm beneath a thin sheen of ice.

A crack shattered the silence. Then stillness swallowed the scene again. Foreboding overcame her and grew to terror, though there seemed to be nothing in such a place to frighten anyone. No forest creature stirred, no beast, no hobgoblin, not even a kelpie, the water-sprite that delighted in trying to drown wayfarers.

She had no control at all. She could not speak or make herself move a muscle. She felt nothing, not the horse beneath her—if, indeed, there was such a horse—or the chill in the air. She could only watch, and fight increasing fear.

Her gaze seemed riveted to Duncan, riding ahead with Neil and Bannatyne, all apparently unconcerned with danger. Though she could see no one but the three, she was aware of a party riding with them. As that awareness made itself known, a ray of sun broke through the gray, diamonds fell from the sky, and the woods erupted in sound and fury. Men charged from every direction, overcoming the men ahead as she watched, helpless. Swords flashed, and Duncan fell lifeless to the ground.

Mary opened her eyes to find herself sitting bolt upright in bed, staring into Duncan’s concerned face. She was shaking. Her palms felt damp. Her lips were dry, and her throat was parched. She could hear the echo of a hideous cry.

“What is it, lass, another nightmare?”

“Aye, I think so. I-I don’t know. Did you not say you mean to ride out with your men to look for Ewan and Allan? Don’t go, Duncan. Please, don’t go!”

“Do you think it was a vision? Mary, you were just dreaming. You haven’t even been asleep long, only for a few minutes, but I’ll swear you were asleep. Your visions don’t take you like that, do they?”

“N-no. At least, they never have in the past, but it was so real, Duncan!”

“Tell me.”

She described it in as much detail as she could remember, and she thought she remembered it well, though she had to admit that some of it seemed absurd.

He listened with apparent concentration, and when she had finished, he said, “Do you mean to say there was utter silence until the ambush?”

“Aye. I know that sounds impossible, like diamonds falling from the sky.”

“Both are impossible. Are your visions ever silent?”

“No,” she said, shuddering. “Never.”

“Then it was just a dream, lass, a nightmare like the other. You had better take more care with what you eat before you sleep, that’s all.”

“Perhaps you are right,” she said, but she still felt frightened.

He kissed her, smoothing her hair back from her face. “I am always right,” he said. “I’d offer to comfort you more, but if I do, I’ll end up staying in bed all day.”

“I wish you would.”

“Wanton woman, would you drain my strength?”

She smiled but said, “I’d feel better, that’s all. I don’t like knowing you will be riding out with your men after such a horrid dream.”

“We’ll be armed, lass, don’t worry. I’ve told you, I prefer you wrapped in serenity. Now get up or you’ll soon earn a reputation for being a slug-a-bed.”

She obeyed him, glad to note that the fear was dissipating; but when she watched him ride out with his men an hour later, anxiety stirred again. Perhaps though, she told herself, it was no more than normal wifely concern for a husband’s safety. She could hardly deny that she was coming to care much more for Black Duncan Campbell than she had ever thought she could.

Finding that Ailis had moved most of her clothing to the room next to Duncan’s, Mary busied herself for the next half hour, searching through the gowns that Lady Balcardane had given her, trying to decide what to take to Inver House. She had become deeply involved in this task when a light rapping heralded the entrance of Lady Balcardane’s woman.

Sarah said deferentially, “Begging your pardon, mistress, but her ladyship would like you to visit her in her dressing room. We have been looking at some gowns she thought might suit you for Inver House.”

“Oh, how kind she is,” Mary said. “I will come at once. I own, Sarah, I have been racking my brain, trying to think which of these will do for such an occasion.”

“Those dresses are for simple wear,” Sarah said with a sniff. “My lady still has some lovely ones from when she was young. They may not be the height of fashion, but we think we can furbish them up with a little needlework.”

Mary went with her to Lady Balcardane’s dressing room, where they found that her ladyship, still coughing a little but clearly much improved, had cast a number of lovely gowns out of her wardrobe and onto any piece of furniture that would hold them.

“I think the blue brocaded satin, and the gold alapeen polonaise,” she said when they entered, just as if they had all been taking part in a conversation.

Mary spent the next twenty minutes trying on one gown after another before all three decided that her ladyship’s choices were correct.

“A nip here and a tuck there, and with a bit of new lace, the blue will be perfect for the christening itself,” she said. “Then, if there is to be a grand party afterward, the gold will do very well. We need only remove those faded silk posies, Mary, take some of the fullness out of the skirt to accommodate a smaller, flatter hoop, and find you a lacy petticoat to wear underneath. We shall begin at once.”

Sarah offered to begin the alterations when they had removed the trimmings, so while she tidied the room, Lady Balcardane and Mary carried their work down to the saloon, where they could be more comfortable. As a hall boy built up the fire for them, Lady Balcardane took her favorite seat near the windows overlooking the loch, and began removing lace trim from the blue gown.

Mary, drawing up a chair, both to be near her and to take advantage of light from the windows, set to work taking the silk flowers off the golden gown. She thought Duncan would like it. The material was nearly the same color as her hair, and although Lady Balcardane had suggested that she ought to powder it for such a grand occasion, she knew Duncan would prefer that it remain unpowdered.

She was indulging herself in a fantasy, where he danced with her in a roomful of strangers, making every other woman turn green with envy, when Lady Balcardane said, “I wonder where Serena has got to, my dear. She could be making a list of the accessories you should wear with these rigs.”