Her Rebellious Heart: A Scottish Historical Romance (3 page)

BOOK: Her Rebellious Heart: A Scottish Historical Romance
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Robert looked at her fondly, replying, “It will be much more so, lass, with you in it.” Then in a more serious tone he continued,“I need someone of my own near me in my declining years, Bridget.”

             
She hugged him and answered,“We’ll see, Granddad, we’ll see, but I’m not promising anything yet. Tell me though, when did you get the lovely pianoforte?”

             
“Oh, lassie, I thought it time you had one of your own and got it for you a few weeks ago. It would be a comfort having you play for me this evening.”

             
Bridget spoke seriously,“Don’t spoil me, Robert. I’m not used to it, but I am very glad you got the pianoforte.”

             
“Well, my dear, whether you come to live here or not, you can use the piano any time you want. It’s yours, and now here comes Aidan. Let’s sit down to supper. I see Besse has it all laid out.”

             
Aidan, with his black hair neatly combed and face shining as after a good scrubbing, came towards her and held the chair as she seated herself. He looked most attractive now in tan colored trousers and white high necked jersey, and she found herself wishing she could feel more friendly towards him, but there was something about him that repelled her, and which for Robert’s sake, she would have to try and get over. He was far too self-assured for her liking, but if she decided to move into the anchorage, she would hopefully learn to cope with it.

             
He sat directly across the table from her, Robert at the head between them. Every time she looked his way, Aidan’s dark eyes were upon her making her feel ill at ease and shy, but also furious with herself at the strange feelings within her. From the smug look on his face, she felt he was highly amused and knew exactly what was going on in her mind.

             
As she toyed with her food, Robert’s voice broke in on her,“What’s the matter, lass? You’ve hardly touched your supper. Don’t you like it?”

             
She looked startled for a moment,“I like the smoked fish well enough, but I never eat oat cakes. I’m going to the kitchen and get a piece of bread,” and getting up from the table, glad of an excuse to get away for a moment, she hurried to the kitchen.  

             
Besse, eating her supper, looked up inquiringly.

             
“I just want a piece of bread, Besse. Do you mind if I toast it?”

             
Then, without waiting for an answer, took a fork from one of the drawers, stuck in into bread slice, and held it in front of the open fire, first one side then the other. Smiling at Besse she said,“I don’t like oat cakes.”

             
Surprisingly, the woman answered,“Well here, lassie, put some butter on your bread,” at the same time pushing the butter plate closer to her.

             
Bridget smiled,“Thank you, Besse.”

             
She walked back into the dining room when she was done, unaware of Besse's eyes watching her closely.             

             
On returning to the dining room, she found the two men deep in conversation about horse breeding. They stopped talking as she sat down at the table again, causing her to look at them inquiringly for the reason of their silence.

             
“Now look you two,” she almost snapped at them, “I’m grown up now and know all about baby horses, so don’t stop your discussion on my account.”

             
Ignoring the two of them, she plowed into her food without another look or word. 

             
Aidan and Robert smiled at each other and resumed their talk.

             
When the meal was over, the two men retired to their respective chairs by the fire. Bridget helped Besse clear the table and carry the dishes to the kitchen.

             
“Besse, your supper was so very good, especially the warm rice pudding. And what a lovely clean kitchen you have.  You work very hard, don’t you?”

             
“No, not too hard, Miss Bridget, but I do like a clean house, especially the kitchen where food is prepared, so I do my best.” She had a happy look on her face at the praise from the younger woman

             
“Let me help you now with the washing up of the dishes.”

             
“No, no lassie, your grandfather might not like it. You go in the parlor and visit with him.”

             
“All right, Besse, if you insist, but I’d like to do my share, you know. I don’t want you waiting on me any time I come here.”

             
“That’s all right, Bridget, but not this time. Off you go now. There’s a good girl.”

             
It was evident that Besse thought of the kitchen as her own private domain, so being politely expelled from it, Bridget went back into the parlor where the two men were now seated in front of a blazing fire, feet stretched out upon the fender. 

             
It was a cozy scene. The aromatic smoke rising from the piper they were both smoking was very pleasing. Going to the piano, Bridget sat down and ran her fingers over the keyboard to get the feel of the instrument, then as the strains of Chopin’s “Polinaise” filled the air, Robert and Aidan exchanged looks of pleasure, Aidan nodding his head in satisfaction. Bridget noticed that Besse was seated in the chair near the kitchen door listening with a sweet smile on her usually glum face.

             
From the old classic, Bridget swung into a medley of old Scottish songs, winding up with the plaintiff strains of “The Dark Isle.” She lost herself in the music.

             
As the music died away, she sat for a few moments with closed eyes, her thoughts far away in another time and place. Then getting up, she moved back to where the men were seated, taking a fat pillow from the settee, she threw it on the floor beside Robert’s chair and sat down on it. Looking up at him, she noticed his eyes were wet.  

             
Aidan said,“That was beautiful, Bridget, and I hope we shall hear lots more of your playing. You do it very well.”

             
“Thank you, Aidan, I’m glad you enjoyed it. As for myself, I couldn’t live without my music.”

             
She leaned her head against her grandfather’s chair as Sarge came and lay on the floor beside her, resting his head on her lap.

             
“Ah, lassie,” said Robert, “it’s such a pleasure to have you here. It makes everything complete again.”

             
He reached out his gnarled hand and stroked her hair. They lapsed into silence then. Words seemed unnecessary at the moment, but although Bridget dreamily watched the dancing flames in the fireplace, and purposely didn’t look at Aidan again, she was fully aware that his gaze seldom left her face and she wondered what was in his mind. Was he resenting the fact that Robert wanted her to move in with them? Was he worried she might spoil his chances maybe being the old man’s heir?

             
Finally, she felt compelled to glance his way, and his dark brooding eyes held hers, bringing a hot flush to her cheeks. The slightly arrogant look was back on his face and she got to wondering how her grandfather could possibly stand the man.

             
Then at last, Robert broke the silence, “Bridget, my dear, there is something I would like you to do for me if you will.”

             
She looked at him with a sweet smile,“What might that be, Robert? I’ll certainly do it if I can. Anything at all, just name it.”

             
Robert MacDonald drew his hand across the back of his neck, a custom of his when he was about to propose something and was not sure of the outcome. 

             
He looked at Bridget with a rather sheepish smile,“Well, lassie,” he began, “on the night of the dinner I am giving, I would like you to wear one of the dresses your grandmother wore when she was a young woman. This particular one was my favorite and I’ve kept it through the years. Will you do it?”

             
She and Aidan exchanged surprised glances. He shrugged his shoulders, then nodded his head indicating she should agree to Robert’s request.

             
“Wasn’t Grandmother very small?” she asked, trying to bring up memories of her.

             
“Oh, no smaller than you I think. Will you try it on for me now? I was sure you would come and had Besse lay it out for you. It’s in the bedroom at the head of the stairs. If you should need any help, I can send her up to you.”

             
Getting up from the floor Bridget said,“I'd better do it now then. I don’t want to be too late in getting back home.”

             
Crossing to the other side of the room, she started up the stairs, stopping on the turn landing to look at the portrait of her grandmother. For a brief moment, she thought she was looking at herself, or at an older, more delicate version. The woman's curly red hair was very much like her own and her eyes the same shade of sparkling green, a color that had inspired many to call her Kat even if her name had not been Katherine. But whereas her grandmother's eyes conveyed a sweet and carefree temperament, her clothes fine and her posture regal, Bridget felt herself a poor comparison in many ways.

             
With an odd feeling she went on upstairs and found the room Robert had indicated. She was very surprised to see how elegantly it had been furnished and wondered if it had been done in the event of her moving in. The décor was in gold and white with touches of deep orange throughout. Two windows on the west wall were hung with white lace curtains and heavy gold colored draw drapes. The floor was carpeted in the same shade of gold.

             
Going to the window, she pulled back the curtains and looked over at the beach and ocean beyond, and although it was gloaming now, she realized what a beautiful view there would be in the evenings of their long summer days.

             
Bridget thought, “If this room could be mine, all to myself, it would be worth it to move in with Robert.” Her face broke into a childlike grin.

             
On the four poster bed across the room lay the beautiful gown she was about try to on, the same one her grandmother was wearing in the picture on the stairway wall. It was made of ivory colored, rustling taffeta with an overlay of the same colored net. The bodice and front panel of the skirt were trimmed in gold metallic embroidery. It had a full crinoline skirt, tight bodice, a low cut neck line, and just a hint of a sleeve at the shoulders.

             
Picking up the dress and holding it in front of her, she walked over to the mahogany wardrobe and viewed herself in the full-length mirror on the door.

             
“What a beautiful thing,” she breathed, “but how amazing it hasn’t fallen apart through the years.” But there it was, indeed intact, just as when it was new.

             
She had no trouble getting into it and hooking it up the front. It was almost a perfect fit on her slender young body. Looking at herself again in the mirror, she was momentarily shocked at how much of her bosom was exposed, then thought, “Oh well, the tartan scarf that drapes from shoulder to waist, will partly cover that.”

             
Pinning her red gold hair on top of her head, and taking one last look in the mirror, she was ready to show off the dress. As she came slowly down stairs again, Aidan was the first to see her, and his exclamation of surprise and admiration, did not escape her. Robert was standing facing the fire place and didn’t see her right away. 

             
She called to him softly, “What do think, sir, will I do?”

             
He swung around quickly at the sound of her voice, and when he saw her, cried out, “My God, Bridget.” Putting his hand to his heart as if in pain, he staggered backwards into his chair.

             
Bridget rushed to his side exclaiming, “Grandfather, what is it, what’s the matter?”

             
Gasping for breath, he replied, “Bridget, my girl, I didn’t realize the effect this would have on me. Your likeness to your grandmother is uncanny.”

             
She put her arm around him, her head touching his, “I’m so sorry Robert.”

             
Then Aidan came towards them in great concern, “You all right, sir? Can I do anything for you?”

             
“Yes, my boy, get me a drink of something strong, to settle this old heart of mine.”

             
While Aidan went to do his bidding, Bridget, looking into Robert’s pale face, asked, “Would you still want me to wear the dress? I think it might be too hard on you, and I can get a new one of my own.”

             
“It was just the first sight of you that did it, lassie. I know you are the image of you grandma, but in her dress, for a moment it seemed she had come back. You will wear the dress, my dear, and I’ll be very proud of you.”

BOOK: Her Rebellious Heart: A Scottish Historical Romance
9.91Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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