Eochaidh - Legend of the Horsemen (Book One) (13 page)

Lady Evaleen lay back against the pillows in the large bed
in their private chambers, her arms folded over her chest and a determined look
upon her face. “There’s no discussing this, John,” she stated, turning to her
husband who was lying prone in the bed next to her, facing the other way. “We
need to pack up the house and move back to England.”

He rolled over and looked at her, the firm set of her lips
and the frown line between her eyebrows.
 
How he loved her! “
Evie
, we can’t just run
away,” he said. “This is a duty, not an option.”

Eyes filling with tears, she shook her head. “Make it
someone else’s duty,” she whispered. “Someone without a daughter.
 
Someone without an estate
to run.
Someone,” her voice broke and she sniffed back the tears.
“Someone I don’t love with all my heart.”

Reaching up, he pulled his wife down into his arms and held
her tightly, kissing her hair. “Darling, there is no one else,” he said. “I
would gladly give the responsibility away.
 
I would like nothing better than to spend the rest of my days, just like
this, in bed with you,” he laid his cheek on her head. “But I would not be the
man you love if I turned my back on my obligation.”

Pushing away from him so she could look into his eyes she
quickly dashed away the tears on her cheeks. “John, if you do something stupid
and get killed, I will never speak to you again,” she said.

Placing a kiss on her forehead, he smiled down at her. “I
promise. I would never even consider doing something as bourgeois as letting
Morganna kill me,” he said. “But, darling…”

“Yes, John?”

“You would still love me if she turned me into a frog or a
lizard or something like that?”

Picking up a small pillow, she rapped him on the head with
it.
 
“That’s not funny!”

Chuckling, he wrapped his arms tightly around her waist and
rolled over, so she was lying below him.
 
He studied her face for a moment, the laughter gone, and slowly bent
down and kissed her lips. “I love you. Forever,” he said.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down for
another kiss. “I love you forever too,” she murmured just before their lips
met.

A sharp knock on their bedroom door broke them apart.
 
Lord John sighed heavily, “Yes, what is it?”
he called.

“I’m sorry, milord,” Fitz said through the closed door. “But
Lady Strathmore and her son are here to see you.”

“At this hour in the morning?” Lord John exclaimed.

“She said she was disturbed about what happened yesterday
and wanted to speak to you about your plans to protect the estate,” he replied.

“She probably wants to be sure my will is in order,” he
murmured to his wife.

“Make sure they have some refreshments,” he called out.
“Lady Evaleen and I will be down to meet with her directly.”

They listened as Fitz’s footsteps moved away from the door
and down the hall. Lord John leaned down to kiss his wife again.

“John,” Lady Evaleen protested with a smile. “She’s waiting
for us.”

He looked down at his lovely wife, her skin flush with
passion and her lips slightly swollen from the kisses they had already
shared.
 
“Let her wait,” he whispered and
he crushed her lips with his own.

“What do you mean they are not available right now?” Lady
Strathmore exclaimed. “Did you tell him I was waiting for him?”

The footman Fitz sent into the parlor squirmed under her
scrutiny. “Yes, my lady, I did,” he replied. “Well, I didn’t, but Mr. Fitzhugh
did. And if Mr. Fitzhugh said he did something, than by golly, he did it.”

“It is rather early, Mother,” Monty whispered, nervously
adjusting his cravat. “We really should have waited a few more hours before
coming.”

Eyes blazing, she turned on her son.
 
The
look on her face
causing him to stumble backward in the room. “Are you suggesting I am wrong?”
she asked. “That I have done something improperly?”

Shaking his head hurriedly, he raised his hands in
submission. “Oh, no, Mother,” he assured her. “You have done nothing wrong.
Nothing in the least.
The, um, Herdin family just does not
rise as early as we do.”

“And that will be corrected once you are the earl,” she
muttered so only Monty could hear her.

“But, Mother, I like the Herdin family,” he said softly. “I
don’t want to see anything happen to Lord John, even if it means I will become
earl.
 
Don’t think I’d feel too good
about throwing his family out. Not good at all.”

Lady Strathmore turned to the footman who was trying to
overhear the whispered conversation. “You may go,” she ordered. “And see about
getting us some decent refreshment if we are forced to wait while his lordship
bides his time upstairs.”

“Oh, he
ain’t
biding his time,”
the groomsman eagerly corrected her. “He and her ladyship,” he added with a
smile. “They’re having some alone time, if you know what I mean.”

“I certainly do not,” Lady Strathmore gasped.

“You don’t?” the groomsman asked, clearly puzzled. “Well,
you see, it’s like this…”

Monty stepped forward and, grabbing the man’s shoulder,
turned him around and guided him toward the door. “I think it would be best if
you went to see about those refreshments,” he advised. “I believe my mother is
quite parched.”

Closing the door behind the retreating footman, Monty took a
deep breath, squared his shoulders and turned to face his mother with a smile.
“Isn’t that lovely, Mother,” he said pleasantly. “Perhaps they’re trying for a
boy. Meggie would love a little brother.”

“Are you mad?” his mother seethed. “Your future, your
fortune, the very reason for your existence, is being dallied away at this very
moment because the Lord and Lady have the carnal sensibilities of peasants.”

“I would say, rather, that Lord and Lady Dunower love each
other,” he replied. “And one would believe the natural consequence would be,
er
, spending time together.”

“You are far too young to know of these things,” she
countered, pacing across the room. “A real lady does not allow herself to feel
base emotions. Does not allow
herself
to be
overwhelmed with passion.”

“Did you love my father?” Monty asked suddenly.

Lady Strathmore froze, schooled her features into a more
pleasant façade and turned to face her son. “Why of course I did,” she
simpered. “He was, quite simply, the love of my life.”

“And when you and he,” Monty paused, grasping for the
correct phrasing. “When you conceived me, was it through love or duty?”

“Why dear, those two words are basically the same thing in
my vocabulary,” she replied, coming up to her son and placing her arms on his
shoulders. “We loved each other, but we also knew we had a duty to continue the
Strathmore line.”

Monty stared down at his mother in disbelief. “You never
loved him, did you?” he accused softly. “You wanted the title and the prestige,
but you didn’t want the man.”

Pursing her mouth, Lady Strathmore lifted her head and
stared emotionlessly at her son. “You must grow up, Monty,” she sneered. “There
is no such thing as a perfect love. It is a lie. People will betray you.
 
People will use you and then they will toss
you aside like chaff.
 
Do not be
deceived, you must kill or be killed.”

Monty stepped back away from her. “Mother, what are you
talking about? We don’t kill anyone.”

Gliding past him, she picked up her reticule from the table
and slipped it over her wrist. “I’m afraid our plans have changed, Monty,” she
said. “I hadn’t considered that there might be another heir in the picture.”

“What plans, Mother? What are you talking about?”

She walked to the door and stepped out into the hallway.
“Don’t worry your head, Monty dear,” she replied. “Mother just has to expand on
her original plan.”

Meaghan barely had time to pull her horse behind a hedgerow
and hide when the Strathmore carriage sped out of the estate drive, the horses
being whipped by a frenzied coachman, and raced down the road toward their
home.
 
“No one should treat their animals
like that,” she murmured. “Someone ought to bring a whip to Lady Strathmore’s
backside and see how she likes it.”

She waited until the carriage disappeared from sight and
then urged her horse toward the stables, circumventing the main house.
 
The young groomsman helped her dismount and
politely did not comment on her disheveled appearance, but Meaghan could tell
that he was burning to know what happened. “Could you please have her ready for
me again this afternoon?” she requested. “I’ll need to run another errand.”

With a promise that he’d take good care of her horse and a
final curious glance, he led her horse back to its stall for a brushing and
morning feed.

Meaghan turned away from the stables, every muscle in her body
stiff and sore, and slowly walked toward the house.
 
She made her way from the stables, through
the kitchen gardens and to the servant’s entrance of the house. She pushed on
the heavy oak door and stepped down into the large kitchen.
 
Mrs. Gallagher looked up from the stove,
turning casually to see who had entered, but when she looked at Meaghan she
dropped her stirring spoon and rushed over. “What in the world happened to you,
dearie?” she asked, placing her arm around Meaghan’s waist and helping her into
a small chamber off the kitchen.

Meaghan shrugged and winced. “I slipped,” she said, as she
lowered herself onto a small cot.

“Off the top of a mountain, no doubt,” the housekeeper
replied.

Smiling wryly, Meaghan said, “Just about.”

Mrs. Gallagher lifted the hem of Meaghan’s shirt and studied
the wound. “Whoever helped you with this did a fine job,” she murmured. “But
I’ll want to clean it and apply some of my own salve to it.”

She stood up and walked to the doorway.
 
“Daisy,” she called out. “Go and fetch Miss
Meaghan a change of clothing and her toiletries and bring it down here.”

“Yes Mama,” Daisy replied.

Mrs. Gallagher turned back, closing the door behind her, and
placed her hands on her hips. “And I’m assuming you don’t want your parents to
find out about this?” she asked, giving Meaghan the look she reserved for all
of the times in her childhood when she was caught in mischief.

Biting her lower lip, Meaghan nodded. “That would be very
helpful,” she answered hopefully.

“Aye, well, they don’t need another worry on their plates
right now,” she said. “And as long as you promise not to try something like
this again.”

Meaghan thought back to the agreement she had made with
Tristan that morning in the clearing.
 
He
told her he would help her find the Eochaidh in the woods, that he had seen
them in the past and knew their hiding places.
 
But, she would have to come in the late afternoon, just before sunset.

“I can promise I won’t try that same path on my own,” she
finally said. “But I can’t promise I won’t be in the same vicinity.”

The woman walked over to a basin near the wall, poured cold
water from a ceramic pitcher into a wash basin, dipped a clean linen cloth into
it and wrung it out.
 
Turning, she met
Meaghan’s eyes. “Is it important?
 
This
place you have to go?” she asked.

“Yes,” Meaghan replied. “It is vitally important. It could
save Father’s life.”

Mrs. Gallagher walked over to the cot and bathed Meaghan’s
wound silently.
 
She then gently applied
some pungent-smelling balm, a scent that brought Meaghan back to childhood knee
and elbow scrapes. “I remember smelling like this for an entire summer,”
Meaghan recalled with a smile.

“Aye, that was the year your legs were too long for the rest
of your body,” Mrs. Gallagher said with a soft smile. “You were like a newborn
colt, unsteady on your feet and tripping and falling every which way.”

“You always told me I was as graceful as a swan,” Meaghan
countered.

“And I’ve always been a good liar,” the woman chuckled.

Meaghan laughed and then regretted it.

“It’ll hurt for a while,” Mrs. Gallagher said. “But let me
bind you up nice and tight, so when you ride back to the woods you won’t be in
so much pain.”

They met each other’s eyes and the older woman smiled down
at Meaghan. “Aye, child, your secret is safe with me,” she said. “You’ve a big
burden to bear on such fragile shoulders, but you’ve the heart to do it.”

A single tear slipped from Meaghan’s eye and ran down the
side of her face. “Thank you, Mrs. Gallagher,” she whispered. “I’ll do my
best.”

“You always do, child. You always do.”

A soft knock on the door interrupted them. Mrs. Gallagher
hurried across the room and cracked the door open a tiny bit to see who was
outside. “Good girl,” she said, opening the door wider and letting Daisy
inside. “I’m almost done here. Then you can help Miss Meaghan dress before her
parents come down.”

“Mr. Fitzhugh has ordered all the servants down from the
second floor,” Daisy said with a giggle. “And he only does that when his lord
and ladyship are having a bit of private time. So I think we have some time.”

“Does everyone in the household know when my parents are…”
she stopped, searching for a phrase that would keep her from embarrassing
herself.

“Your parents, God Bless them, are a rare pair,” Mrs.
Gallagher said, as she wound thin linen strips around Meaghan’s stomach. “They
are devoted to each other and still as in love today as the day they were
married. It brings a smile to all of our hearts. And because they’re not like
the other gentry who only come together to beget an heir or on certain days of
the month, like they have it on their calendar, Mr. Fitzhugh ensures their
privacy by clearing the halls.”

“Do they know?” Meaghan asked.

Chuckling, Mrs. Gallagher cut the final strip and tied the
ends together tightly. “I’m sure wondering about the servants is the last thing
on their minds,” she said. “And since Mr. Fitzhugh has been with them since
they were married, they have never had to worry about it.”

“How did Father find Fitz?” Meaghan asked.

“From my understanding, Mr. Fitzhugh found your father,”
Mrs. Gallagher said. “For some reason, the butler, who had been in the family
for years, decided he needed to go back to England. No sooner had the old
butler walked out the door, than Mr. Fitzhugh walked in. He’s been here ever
since.”

“Well, that was a lucky day for our family,” Meaghan added.
“I don’t know what we would do without Fitz.”

“Aye, he has an uncanny way about him,” Mrs. Gallagher said.
“Seems to know about things before they even happen.”

Smiling, Meaghan nodded. “I agree. He’s told me a good
butler anticipates a situation,” she said. “But I think it’s a little spooky.”

All of the women giggled. “That’s the word for it,” Mrs.
Gallagher agreed. “Spooky.”

She stepped away from the cot and nodded to her daughter.
“Now, get Miss Meaghan dressed and ready for breakfast,” she said. “If you need
anything, I’ll be just outside the door in the kitchen.”

After the door closed, Daisy picked up the clothing she had
placed over a chair in the corner of the room. “I didn’t know what you wanted
to wear,” she explained, “so I brought you down three dresses to choose from.”

Meaghan glanced over, not at all interested in her wardrobe.
“Which dress would you suggest?” she asked.

Without hesitation, Daisy picked up a soft rose silk and ran
her hand lovingly over the fabric. “This one,” she said with a soft sigh. “It’s
always been my favorite.”

Meaghan studied Daisy for a moment.
 
They had grown up together, had played
together as children, and as they got older were required to follow the path
laid out for each of them by their parents and society.
 
Daisy was still the little girl who loved to
play dress up.
 
She still loved pretty
things, although Meaghan knew she didn’t have many.

“Not that one, Daisy,” she said, shaking her head. “It
doesn’t fit me quite right.”

“Oh, well, I can alter it for you,” she offered.

“Actually, I was wondering if you would like to have it,”
Meaghan asked. “I’ve so many others, it doesn’t make sense to take the time to alter
it.”

“Truly?” Daisy asked, her eyes shining with delight.

Meaghan nodded. “Truly,” she said. “I’ll wear the blue one
today.”

“Thank you, miss,” Daisy said, hurrying to put her dress to
the side. “I’ll never forget this as long as I live.”