Sleepless in Scotland (32 page)

She smiled. “I couldn’t help but overhear. Your grandmother is correct; the girls will come around, but it will take some time. They’re good children, but high-spirited. Honestly, it’s good you’re here. They need someone in their life.” Her gaze went to the top of the stairs. “They all do,” she added softly.

Hugh, hugging the girls, caught Caitriona’s gaze and his smile disappeared. There was tension in her face, and he instinctively knew something had happened.

Devon pulled on his arm. “Can we eat? We are famished.”

“We are!” Aggie said.

He looked at Christina, who shook her head. That was odd; lately she’d had a robust appetite.

Devon tugged on his arm again. “Uncle Dougal and Aunt Sophia are hungry, too.”

“Well, then, we can’t keep our guests waiting, can we?” Hugh went downstairs, the girls trailing behind. “We seem to have a large complement for breakfast.”

“I hope you don’t mind,” Dougal said. “Sophia arrived home just this morning, and was determined to bring the children to you as soon as possible.”

Nora cackled. “Gettin’ rid o’ them, eh?” She looked at the girls and winked. “Ye aren’t causin’ trouble, are ye?”

“No,” Christina said in a breathless voice. “Of course not!”

Sophia came forward to give Hugh a sisterly kiss and hug. “I would keep them forever, as you know, but they’re always so excited to come home that I brought them right away. Besides, I wished to meet your wife.”

Hugh flicked a glance at Caitriona. “I’m glad you did.” She looked especially adorable this morning, all prim upswept hair, her spectacles perched on her nose as if trying to disguise her beauty, but failing miserably. It had been a disappointment to awaken and find her gone. He must have been more tired than he realized, for he’d not heard a thing until Dougal had arrived.

Mrs. Wallis swept into the foyer. “We’re havin’ breakfast brought up now. The room should be about ready. I had Liam and Angus climb in through the window.”

A loud scraping sound caused everyone to turn toward the breakfast room.

Hugh frowned. “What in he—”

Triona cleared her throat and looked meaningfully at the girls.

The door opened then, and Angus and Liam grinned out at them. Mrs. Wallis smiled at the gathering. “Come eat. We’ve eggs and ham, porridge and butteries, and Abernathy biscuits!”

Hugh slipped a hand into the crook of Triona’s arm and walked with her to the door. As they crossed the threshold, she came to an abrupt halt. Just as in his library, every piece of furniture—with the exception of the heavy table and the large buffet against one wall—had been moved. The chairs were lined to one side along with the smaller buffet, which, from the floor scrapes, had apparently been resting against the main door. Angus and Liam were putting things back to rights, but the disarray was obvious.

“Lord above,” Nora exclaimed, “What’s happened here?”

Dougal looked curious. “Were you cleaning the carpets or—”

“No,” came a clear, loud voice.

Everyone turned toward Devon.

Head high, her face pale, she said steadily, “Papa told Triona she could do what she wanted with the furniture.” The girl looked around the room with an expression of satisfaction. “I don’t like it, though. I don’t like any of it.”

Mrs. Wallis shook her head. “The missus and I only changed the sitting room.”

Hugh turned to look at Devon, who appeared ready for a fight. She stared back, defiant, while Christina avoided his gaze.

His irritation must have shown, for Christina paled and took a step back while Devon’s hands fisted at her sides. He said sternly, “Girls, you have—”

Caitriona gripped his arm, pulling him toward her. “Hugh, let’s talk about this after breakfast. No one has eaten yet.”

He frowned.

“We can replace the rest of the furniture after breakfast. But since we have guests now…” Her calm hazel gaze locked with his.

Ah. So she didn’t want him to upbraid the girls in front of their aunt and uncle. He reluctantly supposed she was right.

“I am famished,” Sophia said brightly. “And I like the look of that small table by the window. It would make a lovely nook for more private meals.”

“Aye,” Nora agreed, eying the girls with a sharp gaze. “There’s promise in the new arrangement. Some might like it better, if they’d a mind to.”

Hugh nodded. He would wait to address this issue with the girls, but he would have plenty to say when he did.

He covered Caitriona’s hand with his own and forced a smile. “Let’s eat, then.”

For all of the tension emanating from Devon and Christina, the meal was spritely with conversation, thanks mainly to Sophia and Nora. They bantered with one another, asked numerous questions of Caitriona, shared all the local gossip they could think of, and generally kept everyone smiling. Except Christina and Devon, who were mutinously silent.

Why would they wish him to be angry with his wife? He watched as Sophia urged Triona to tell a story about her childhood. Caitriona’s face lit up as she revealed how she and her siblings had mistakenly used one of the good sheets as a curtain for a play and had accidentally spilled paint on it, and the madness that ensued trying to hide it from their mother. Everyone at the table gasped with laughter, except the girls.

Outside, the weather was cold and drizzly, but inside, bathed in the warm glow of brass lamps and Caitriona’s musical laughter, all was warm and golden. That was what she had brought to his life.

As soon as they could, Devon and her sisters excused themselves from the table. Hugh quietly informed them he’d soon be up to speak with them. They exchanged glances, but nodded and said their goodbyes. He watched them leave, feeling guilty. He’d been so worried about protecting the girls that he hadn’t thought about Caitriona getting hurt. But from now on, Gilmerton would be a peaceable kingdom.

Caitriona had made the effort, and the rest of them would as well.

The low fire in the nursery put off more light than heat. Christina shoveled a scoop of coal into the iron door, closed it, and locked it tight. The flames immediately leapt up, pouring forth warmth. She smiled at her sisters. “I like the new furnaces Papa installed.”

Aggie, who occupied the far end of the settee, surrounded by three of her favorite dolls and tucked about with her favorite blanket, bobbed her blond curls. “It’s much warmer.”

Devon slouched at the other end of the settee, her arms crossed over her narrow chest, her mouth turned down in a scowl.

Christina’s gaze narrowed as she regarded her sister. After a moment, she went to sit beside her. “Out with it, nuisance. Something is bothering you.”

Devon sent her a sidelong glance, but didn’t move. “Maybe.”

“It’s breakfast, isn’t it?”

“Yes! We worked so hard, and Papa should have been furious!” Devon scowled. “That woman is a witch. She has put a spell on him.”

“There are no witches.”

“What about Old Woman Nora? Everyone says she’s one!”

“They say she’s a white witch. They’re not dangerous.”

“Well, her granddaughter is a dark witch, and she’s
very
dangerous.”

Aggie looked up from her dolls. “I don’t think she’s a witch. I think she’s sad.”

“What do you know about it?” Devon snapped.

Aggie said stoutly, “More than you! I know she has three brothers and two sisters, and that she’s the oldest and has always taken care of everyone, which is how she ended up married to Papa! I know, too, that she misses her home.”

Christina frowned. “How do you know all of that?”

“She doesn’t,” Devon sniffed.

“I do, too! I know lots about her—more than you do.” Aggie eyed her sisters with a frown. “You two moved the furniture, didn’t you?”

“What if we did?” Devon demanded. “She deserves it.”

Aggie’s brows lowered. “I don’t think she does. I know you think she’s been mean to Papa, but…” She fingered the lace edge of her doll’s elaborate gown before lifting tear-filled eyes to her oldest sister. “Christina, what if our being mean to her has made her
lonely
?”

Surprised, Christina scooted closer, wrapped an arm about Aggie, and hugged her. “Why on earth would you think that?”

Aggie shrugged, her gaze locked on her doll.

Christina regarded Aggie for a moment, then withdrew her arm. “Fine. If you won’t tell me what
you
know, then I suppose I don’t have to tell you what
I
know.”

Aggie’s head jerked up as if pulled by a string. “What do you know?”

“Oh, something I overheard Papa say to Uncle Dougal. You won’t want to know. It’s just about”—she paused dramatically—“the
curse.
”

Aggie’s eyes widened. “The MacLean curse? You heard Papa mention it?”

Christina nodded.

“He
never
mentions it.”

Christina waited.

Aggie fingered the edge of her doll’s gown again. “I suppose I can tell you how I found out those things about Papa’s new wife. It’s just that…I sort of stole it.”

“Stole what?” Christina asked quietly.

Aggie reached into her pocket and pulled out a creased note. “Caitriona writes letters to her family almost every day. I saw this in the front hall, ready for the mail and…”

“You
took
it?” Devon didn’t look as if she believed Aggie capable of such a thing.

Aggie nodded miserably, tears welling once again. “I shouldn’t have, but I thought maybe she had written her plans to trick Papa so I started to read it, and then one of the footmen came down the hall, and I got scared so I stuck it in my pocket and—” Aggie’s lips quivered. “Oh, Devon, I’m afraid we’re wrong!”

Devon looked at the note. She slowly reached out, took it, and read it, her face paling.

Christina watched, her own throat tight. “What does it say?”

Silently, Devon held out the letter.

Christina opened it and read silently. After a long moment, she dropped her hands to her lap and stared into the distance.

Devon stirred restlessly, and Christina let out a shuddering sigh. “She’s homesick.”

Aggie nodded, her curls bouncing. “Just like we were, when we first came to stay with Papa.”

Devon seemed to have trouble swallowing. “She doesn’t want us gone at all.”

“No,” Aggie said, “she just wants us to
like
her.”

A lump filled Christina’s throat. “All this time she’s been homesick, and we’ve been making things harder on her.”

Devon’s lips quivered. “I just wanted Papa to stay away from her. I never thought—” A tear spilled down her cheek. “I-I just didn’t want to lose Papa. If he leaves us, we’ll have to go back to Mama, and—” A sob broke from her.

“No!” Christina grasped Devon’s shoulders. “No matter what Papa feels about his new wife, he’s not going to stop loving us.”

Aggie smoothed her cheek over her doll’s hair. “Do you really think so?”

“Yes,” Christina said firmly, though in her heart of hearts, she wasn’t so certain.

Devon broke the silence. “I know Papa says that, but Mama stopped loving us when she found someone new.”

Christina thought this through.

“There is a big difference between Mama and Papa. Mama was never very good at being a mother. She wasn’t good at the sort of love that lasts. Her love is more like a quick, hard shower surrounded by days and days of dryness.”

“And Papa?” Devon asked.

Christina smiled. “He’s like a nice, steady shower that keeps the gardens green and fresh, but not too much so.” She tweaked one of Aggie’s curls. “Mama didn’t know how to love us any better than she did. And Papa has done the best that he could.”

Aggie nodded. “Sometimes he yells, but doesn’t mean it.”

“And sometimes he yells because he cares, but doesn’t know how to show it.”

Devon thought about this. “Not very often, though. He’s usually in a good mood.”

“He was, until Caitriona came.” Christina thought about this. “I thought it was because he didn’t wish to marry her and was mad that he’d been forced to do so. Now, I wonder if perhaps it’s like when we first came to stay with Papa. Do you remember those times?”

“He was very quiet and cross.”

“And so were we. We didn’t know him well and—” Christina rested her elbow on her knee and propped her chin in her hand. “That’s actually very interesting, when you think about it. It makes one wonder…” She stared into the distance, her blue eyes unfocused.

Devon let her sister think. Christina was an excellent thinker, even better than Socrates, Papa said. If anyone could figure out the complexities of the odd ways adults acted, it would be Christina.

Christina jumped up and began to pace. “He acts as if he’s angry with her, although it wasn’t her fault they were forced to marry.”

Devon shrugged. “So?”

“
So,
perhaps he doesn’t know
how
to react to her and he just
seems
angry. Maybe what’s really happening is that he cares for her, and it scares him.”

“Nothing scares Papa,” Aggie said stoutly.

“That’s not true. He was a little scared of us, at first. I think Caitriona scares Papa even more, so he’s trying to stay mad.”

Devon stared at her hands.

Aggie lifted her gaze to Christina. “Do you think that’s why Mama stayed away from us? Because she was afraid she might care too much?”

Christina sat down beside Aggie. “Yes. That’s exactly what I think. She isn’t a very strong person.”

Aggie solemnly considered this. “It’s not a very happy way to live.”

“No, it’s not. Which is why we need to apologize to Papa.” Christina looked at Devon. “And Caitriona.”

Devon didn’t look up, though she knew her sister wanted her to. If anyone owed Caitriona and Papa an apology, it was her. She’d been the one to push things, to try to embarrass Triona before Papa. Christina had tried time and again to make her see the other side of things, but she’d refused. She wasn’t a nice person. In that way, she was a lot like Mama.

The thought shot through her like a shard of glass, causing her stomach to clench. She gasped, and Christina leaned forward, concern on her face. “Devon, are you ill?”