Sleepless in Scotland (33 page)

“I’m fine,” she managed. But she wasn’t. She wasn’t fine at all.

She was evil, like Mama. Of the three of them, she was the one who looked the most like Mama. Perhaps that was why she was so selfish.

Her heart ached. She’d caused Caitriona pain, but worse, she’d hurt Papa. Tears flooded her eyes, and she fought them back. She couldn’t let Christina or Aggie see; couldn’t let them know. Papa was going to be so mad.

She knew he’d guessed what had happened this morning, but had waited to say anything. That was a bad sign, for he never waited. Had she caused too much harm this time? Was he going to send them away because of their tricks?

Oh, God. Not that!
He would send them all away, and they’d never have a home again.

Her gaze flickered to Christina, who was talking quietly to Aggie. Sometimes dark memories haunted Christina. Devon knew, because she slept in the same room and heard her talk in her sleep. How she cried out to Mama to come home, and how she’d begged people for food when they’d been young.

Whenever Christina had those dreams, Devon pulled her blankets over her head and wept into her pillow. As the months at Papa’s had gone by, so had Christina’s dreams.

And now, because of Devon’s selfishness, Papa was hurt and would turn them all away and her sister’s nightmares would begin again. Devon couldn’t allow that to happen.
She
would go away, before Papa turned his anger on them.

“Christina? I have a headache and want to take a nap.”

Christina looked surprised. “All right. I’ll stay with Aggie until Papa comes to talk to us.”

Her feet dragging, Devon left the room, glancing back for a final glimpse of her sisters.

Then within a few minutes, she changed into her riding habit, bundled some clothes into a pillowcase, and slipped down the back stairs.

Chapter 19

“When the light fails ye and ’tis too dark to make yer way, follow yer heart. Love is a light none can extinguish.”

O
LD
W
OMAN
N
ORA TO HER THREE WEE GRANDDAUGHTERS ON A COLD WINTER’S NIGHT

W
eel, I should be goin’.”

Triona followed Mam to the foyer. Her other guests had left and Hugh had gone upstairs to speak with the girls.

Mam hugged her. “Dinna ye fash about MacLean. He’ll be gentle wit’ the bairns.”

“I hope so. He was very grim during breakfast.”

“Aye, ’twas a sad trick they played on ye.”

“William and I have done worse.”

“Aye, but no’ wit’ such intent.” Mam’s shrewd eyes narrowed. “They wished to discredit ye and ’tis a talkin’-to they need. I’d ha’ thought less o’ MacLean if he didna realize it.”

“I just don’t want this to cause any more strain in my relationship with my stepdaughters. It’s such a small issue; I could have dealt with it myself.”

“Aye, but ’tis a family ye are, so ’tis as a family this should be addressed. ’Tis proper fer MacLean to do the talkin’ since it was his own behavior tha’ set the bairns off.”

Suddenly Hugh’s bellow echoed through the house.
“Angus! Liam!”

Caitriona whirled as Hugh came racing down the stairs, Christina and Aggie following, tears on both girls’ faces. “What’s wrong?”

“Devon’s missing.” He turned as Liam entered the foyer. “Saddle my horse and be quick about it.”

“Aye, m’lord!” The footman ran off.

“Do ye have any idea where she’s off to?” Mam asked.

Hugh shook his head. “She’s run away from home. Some of her clothes are missing, and it looks as if she’d changed into her riding habit.” His jaw tightened. “If one of my stable hands has been so stupid as to saddle a horse for her in this weather—” He left the words unsaid.

Christina wrung her hands, her face pale. Aggie choked back a sob. Triona hugged the younger girl, looking over her head at Hugh. “Why did she run away?”

He hesitated. “She left a note.”

Christina lifted her hand, where a crumpled note dangled. “We-we moved the furniture. Devon thought Papa would blame us for—and it
was
our fault, but she—”

Triona reached out and pulled the older girl to her as well, hugging her tightly as the tears flowed. “There was nothing to be sorry about! It was a joke and nothing more. My brothers and sisters and I did much worse, believe me.”

Christina pulled back. “It wasn’t a joke. We-we wanted you to go away. We didn’t want Papa to send us away.”

“What?” Hugh sounded confused.

“We thought you might not want us if you began to like Caitriona. We were afraid you’d have a child. Then we would just be in the way and—”

He placed his hands on her shoulders and bent until his eyes were even with hers. “Listen to me, Christina. No matter what, no matter who is in my life, I would
never
abandon you.”

“And I would never let him,” Triona added with asperity. “What sort of man would abandon his children?”

“But…” Christina’s face crumpled. “We’re not his children!”

Caitriona blinked, then looked at Hugh, stunned.

“I wondered about tha’,” Mam murmured.

Hugh’s heart was heavy. Had Devon really left for such a reason? “Christina, we’ve had this conversation before. You three
are
my children, because I have deemed it so and no one, least of all Caitriona, wishes it otherwise.” He looked at her over Christina’s head. “Am I right?”

He didn’t mean to say it in such a challenging fashion, but every word echoed defiance.

Caitriona didn’t flinch. Her eyes softened, her full lips quivered. “They are your daughters, and now they are mine. They belong here, at Gilmerton, with us.” She hugged Aggie tighter. “Christina, I come from a large family. There is plenty of love for all of us here. Even if Hugh and I had a dozen children, you and your sisters would be loved no less.”

Her gaze met Hugh’s, and in that second, he realized that she had created the one thing he hadn’t been able to—a family. But not his warped view of a family. Rather, somewhere along the way, she’d taught him a better, more generous meaning of that word; one that wasn’t focused on keeping people out, but on allowing people in. And she’d done it with patience and love.

Love. She
loved
him. The amazing realization washed over him with the power of a MacLean flood. He didn’t know when it had happened; he only knew that he finally recognized it. And he did so because his own heart was filled with the same. He loved her, too.

As he opened his mouth to say so, the door flew open and Ferguson came in, wrapped in a dripping cape. “I’ve brought yer horse, m’lord, and mine as well. I only hope we can find her,” he said grimly. “One o’ the stable hands saddled her horse nearly an hour ago.”

“That damned fool!”

“Aye, he’ll be feelin’ a strop afore the day’s out, to be sure. Fortunately, it’s still mornin’. We should find her well afore dark.”

“We’d better,” Hugh said grimly. “We’ll need all of the men—”

“Already done, m’lord. I told Angus and Liam to fetch the stable hands and every man they could find.”

“Good.” Hugh hugged Christina and then gently pushed her into Caitriona’s arms. “I’m going to fetch Dougal and some of his men, and follow the roads toward the village. She can’t have gone far.” He glanced at Nora. “Will you stay until we find her?”

“O’ course.”

Caitriona’s gaze sought his, her eyes bright with tears. “Please find her soon!”

Hugh answered this with a hard kiss, hoping she could read his love in his eyes. “We won’t return until she’s safe.”

He turned on his heel and went to the door. When he returned, he’d talk with Caitriona. It was time to set things right and begin anew. He pulled his collar higher, ducked his head, and walked out into the rain.

From the windows by the front door, Triona and the girls watched Hugh and Ferguson ride away. Outside, the wind whipped the rain in all directions, and all of the warmth seemed to follow him through the downpour.

Mrs. Wallis bustled in, concern on her face. “I heard about the lassie.”

Triona nodded, and Mam said, “MacLean has gone to look fer her.”

“He’ll find her, dinna fash. Come. I’ve biscuits and tea in the sitting room. Might as well fortify yourselves whilst we wait fer his lordship to bring her home.”

“Tea is just the thing,” Mam agreed. “Come, dearies. We canna help, standin’ about the hallway.”

Christina sniffed and pulled out of Triona’s embrace. “Some tea would be nice.”

Triona forced herself to smile. “Come, let’s eat all of the biscuits so we can tease Devon when your father brings her back.”

Aggie managed to smile in return. “I’ll eat two extra ones.”

Soon they were seated in the sitting room, uneaten biscuits and untouched tea before them. Outside, the rain slashed down even more heavily.

The minutes passed. Then an hour. Triona tried not to look too often out the window, but it was difficult. Christina kept glancing out, too, wincing at the thunder. Triona had to grit her teeth not to jump up and order the carriage. But what good would that do? She didn’t know where Devon had gone, and a carriage couldn’t always follow the path a horse might take.

Aggie poked at her uneaten biscuit. “I wish we could look for Devon ourselves.”

“Me, too.” Christina rubbed her hands together nervously. “She’s not likely to go far in this weather,” she said for the hundredth time.

“She’d take shelter,” Triona responded yet again. “She’d find a rock ledge where it’s dry, maybe even a little cave somewhere.” She hoped that was true.

Christina stood and walked to the window, staring out as if willing Devon to appear. “The road can be hazardous in rains like this. Papa should have taken one of us with him. We know all of her hiding places.”

Triona turned toward Christina. “You have others besides the copse of trees behind the garden?”

“How did you know about that?”

“I followed you last night after you moved the furnishings.”

Christina’s cheeks colored. “We have some places at Uncle Dougal’s house. One is behind the barn, and another is an old gazebo by the lake.” Christina said thoughtfully, “You can’t see the gazebo from the house, and it’s fairly large. It would be a good place to wait out this weather, and it’s large enough to provide shelter for her horse.”

Christina made sense. Devon wasn’t foolish; she would sit out this weather for her horse, if not for herself.

Triona crossed to the window to stand beside Christina. Hugh needed to know this information, but how to get it to him? He’d taken all of the stable hands and the footmen with him in his search.

She bit her lip. She knew the path to Dougal’s house, for she’d seen the girls take it. She’d have Mrs. Wallis help her saddle a horse and go herself. Once he knew where to look, he’d find Devon.

Decided, Triona announced, “I’m going to change into my habit.”

“But…you can’t leave!”

“I must. Your father needs to know about the barn and the gazebo.”

“But Papa said—”

“He didn’t know about your hiding places. I do.”

Mam nodded. “He needs to know.”

Christina’s eyes filled with tears. “I am worried.”

“So am I,” Triona admitted. “But we’ll find her.” She kissed Christina’s forehead, her heart warming as the girl leaned against her. “I promise,” she whispered.

Half an hour later, Triona bent her head against the rain, her hat brim barely shielding her eyes. The heavy rain seeped into her clothing until her riding skirt felt several stone heavier. Solid old Bluebell plowed on, head down.

The going was much slower than Triona had anticipated, and the afternoon light was fading fast. She’d taken the trail between Gilmerton and Dougal’s house, but she hadn’t been prepared for it to be so narrow. The rain made things worse, making it difficult to see the edge that disappeared in places down a steep ravine.

The thought of Devon slipping and falling down that steep slope made Triona’s heart thud sickly. She continued grimly. When this was over and Devon was safe, she’d make certain they were never allowed on this trail again. What was Hugh thinking, anyway?

Something caught Triona’s eye. In the center of the path lay Devon’s riding hat, the sapphire blue scarf sodden and muddy. Bluebell saw it, too, for she skittered on the narrow path, her eyes rolling wildly. Triona gripped her knees tighter as Ferguson had taught her, and the horse settled down.

As soon as she had her horse under control, Triona cupped her hand to her mouth.
“Devon!”

There was no answer. The wind whipped and the rain thrummed, but no other sound broke through.

Triona held the reins firmly and yelled again, louder.
“Devon!”

Still there was no answer. Just as Triona called out a third time, lightning cracked overhead. Bluebell jerked forward, but Triona was ready and calmed her yet again.

Triona stared at the hat, noting that the trail’s edge seemed crumbled. Had Devon fallen? Had her horse bolted at a flash of lightning? Or had she just lost her hat and ridden on? There was only one way to find out.

Heart pounding, Triona dismounted and brushed water from her face. It was a useless motion, for the rain just replaced every drop she wiped away. She went to Bluebell’s head and patted her nose. “We have to find Devon.” She looped the reins through some brush, tied them tightly, and went to examine the edge of the path.

Through the sluicing rain, she could see down a rough ravine covered with jagged stones and thick brush. To one side, a flat rock projected from the hillside, jagged and broken. Rain gushed down, making streams that disappeared into the mist at the bottom. The wind ripped over the hill above, blowing rain into Triona’s face and lifting her hat. She barely caught it before it could fly off.

Was Devon down there? Triona called again and again, but there was no answer.
Dear God, don’t let her be injured.