The Border Trilogy (25 page)

“All serene?”

Turning quickly, she found Ned grinning conspiratorially at her and managed to summon up a smile. “Lady Somerville is changing her gown. She did not desire my assistance.”

“I’ll warrant she did not. But she invited the trouble.”

“Aye, perhaps.”

“Adam suspects nothing,” he assured her, “so you are perfectly safe unless you fear that she might tell him the truth and be believed.”

Mary Kate shook her head with a wry smile. “To do so would be to force him to choose between us—choose knowingly, that is—and she is far too clever for that. She manipulates, but he does not see it because she does not wish him to see. But she will not bear tales to him.” She paused, then added shrewdly, “I almost wish she would. He would think less of her then.”

Ned took her hand and rested it upon his forearm as they began to follow the others back to the dancing. “You know, my lady,” he said thoughtfully, “I have known Megan a good many years, and I think she is only having a game with you.” When Mary Kate glared at him, he went on lamely, “Well, mayhap I know nothing at all, but I have always liked her before. I don’t like this business, of course,” he added hastily.

She smiled. “You need not concern yourself so with my troubles, Ned. Indeed, I have not even thanked you for coming to my rescue as you did. If you had not spoken up so quickly, Adam would soon have known the truth of the matter and I would be in the suds now for certain.” She looked up at him. “Was he very angry with you?”

The young man shrugged. “Don’t distress yourself unduly. He did no more than rebuke me for my supposed clumsiness, which made him feel better and didn’t hurt me a bit. Now, if he had been
really
angry…” He grimaced with exaggerated fervor, and Mary Kate nodded sympathetically. She knew exactly what he meant.

A round dance was forming, and she accepted his invitation to join the fun, telling herself that she would do better to put her husband out of mind for a time. But some moments later, she caught Douglas’s speculative gaze upon her just as Ned swung her so high that her feet left the floor amidst a riot of swirling gold petticoats. She laughed and was glad to note a moment later that her partner’s eyes were twinkling merrily. When he whirled her up again, she felt as light as a feather in his strong grip and laughed even louder just to show Douglas what a good time she was having. But then she saw Lady Somerville approaching him, and her laughter died.

Megan had wasted no time. Elegant figured saffron damask had replaced the lavender gown, and from top to toe she now looked like old gold. Her underskirt was of deep brown with gold satin embroidery, matching that of the gown’s full-cut undersleeves, while her plunging bodice exposed an alluring, very deep décolletage. Again she wore a vast amount of jewelry.

Douglas turned to greet her with a broad smile.

Mary Kate suddenly wanted to go to bed, to leave them to their fun. If Ned was right and Megan only playing games, then she would let her play without an audience. But the more she considered that course of action, the less she liked it, for it smacked of defeat. Telling herself that there was no good purpose to be served by leaving the jade with a clear field in which to work her mischief, Mary Kate decided instead to take advantage of the many admirers she had acquired during the day. She would serve Sir Adam Douglas with a dish of his own sauce and see how he liked the taste of it. Accordingly, she threw herself into the dancing with more energy than ever.

Ned was soon sent about his business by another laughing cavalier, and as partner succeeded partner, Mary Kate kept a careful eye upon her husband. He had not danced with Megan for some time, but neither did he seem particularly interested in his wife. At one point, admittedly, he had taken a step or two in her direction, but Mary Kate had seen him coming and had quickly accepted an invitation from a handsome young man who swept her immediately into the dance that was forming at the time. She knew Megan had lodged no accusation against her, for there would have been immediate repercussions, but Douglas might still ask an awkward question or two. Or worse, she might lose her temper with him over his own behavior. It would be better, she decided, to avoid him altogether for a time.

He made no further attempt to approach her, although his eyes met hers upon more than one occasion. When he danced again with Megan later in the evening, after some of the guests had taken their leave, Mary Kate encountered a gleam of mischievous triumph in Megan’s eyes. Turning pointedly away, she addressed a flirtatious remark to her own astonished partner, only to have him reply in kind. Recalled to her senses, she snubbed him firmly a moment later.

As the evening dragged on, she put more effort into appearing to enjoy herself, but her thoughts kept returning to Douglas and his cousin. Was she merely jealous, she wondered, and making too much of their relationship? To be sure, Douglas himself had shown little in the way of loverlike behavior toward Megan. His attitude was friendly, but thinking about his behavior objectively, Mary Kate had to admit she had detected nothing more than friendship. Moreover, though he had made no real effort to understand her dislike for Megan, he did seem honestly confused by it, and Douglas was not a fool. Was Ned right and her ladyship only having her own devious fun? But then, with deep humiliation, she remembered that gleam of triumph in Megan’s eyes and the fact that the older girl knew about her punishment. How could Douglas have told her about that unless they were very intimate indeed with each other?

Mary Kate gritted her teeth, calling herself a fool and childish besides, reminding herself that it did no good to speculate about such matters. To hurl accusations at her husband as she had done over Susan Kennedy would likewise be of no use. She would have to be more careful, more subtle. If all else failed, she would simply ask him outright about his feelings for his cousin.

With these decisions made, she felt better and ready at last to face him. Since it seemed clear enough now that he believed the business with the wine to have been an accident, she decided she had nothing to fear on that score. Besides, she told herself, since she had stayed downstairs at all, there was little point in leaving him alone for Megan to do her worst.

She found him with a group of weary guests who had decided to sit out a dance or two to rest themselves. Several ladies were sitting on benches in a window embrasure, while most of the men leaned against the wall nearby. Douglas shot her a quizzical look, but the others greeted her cheerfully, and one lilting, musical voice rose above the others.

“Mary Kate,” Megan said, “do come sit with us and rest your feet. I have just been telling everyone the most amusing tales about your husband.”

Mary Kate tensed at the taunting note in her voice, but the others obligingly moved over on the bench to make room for her, and with so many watching, the invitation could not with any civility be refused. As soon as she had seated herself, Megan went on with a laughing tale about Douglas’s prowess, or lack thereof, on the tennis court, followed immediately by more stories of his escapades as a child. Several others joined in these reminiscences, but Mary Kate’s attention was fixed upon Megan, who made it sound as though she and Douglas had passed years in each other’s continuous, intimate company.

Although Mary Kate knew such a thing to have been impossible, she felt the flames of her anger begin to burn again, and by the time the last tale had come to its humorous conclusion, she had forgotten her tactful intentions and wanted only to give free rein to her temper. But she could not speak in front of them all. She was forced to contain herself until the last guest had taken his departure, by which time she believed she had herself well in hand again.

Though Megan observed then with a sigh that it would be pleasant to relax for a time with a glass of wine to review the activities, physical exertion and lack of sleep had taken their toll and Douglas offered no objection when his wife suggested that they retire immediately instead. Lady Strachan, because of her health, had gone to bed soon after supper, but his lordship and Ned had lasted to the end. They both agreed with Mary Kate that the time had come for sleep, and no one else appeared to notice Megan’s frown of disappointment, but Mary Kate gained pleasure from it, shooting the older girl a mocking smile as they left the room amidst a warm exchange of good nights.

Lucas Trotter was waiting for Douglas, and Mary Kate went to her own chamber, her mind working rapidly. She was determined to speak to Douglas, but she did not wish to antagonize him and hoped that this time she could control her temper and remain reasonable, calm, and controlled. She waited only until Annie and Trotter had been dismissed before approaching him.

He was standing near the hearth with its low-glowing embers, draining a mug of mulled wine. His chin was tilted up, and she could see the muscles work in his throat as he swallowed the last few drops. He put the mug down on the mantle shelf and, aware now of her presence, turned to face her, stifling a yawn. He looked tired, almost vulnerable. “Ready for bed, sweetheart?”

“Aye.” He held out a hand to her. “First I have something to say to you, sir.” Her voice was stiff with determination.

His eyes narrowed, but he said calmly, “Do you wish to speak here or may we go to bed first?”

She hesitated, experiencing a sudden sinking feeling that perhaps she had been mistaken, that perhaps he was expecting a confession of some sort from her.

Fortunately, he answered himself. “Here, I think. If I lie down, I shall probably fall asleep, which is never a wise thing to do in the midst of a curtain lecture.” When her eyes flew wide, he chuckled, pulling up a pair of stools near the hearth. “Don’t look so amazed, sweetheart, You’ve been shooting dagger looks from your pretty eyes these past two hours and longer, making it only too obvious that I have done something to vex you. Whatever it is, tell me.”

She sat down opposite him, trying to compose her thoughts. The fears were calmed again, but they had caught her off guard, disturbing her careful poise.

“Well, what is it, lassie?” There was an overtone of impatience now. He was tired. “Let’s have it.”

“You told her,” she blurted, forgetting her decision to lead up to the subject gradually and with tact.

“I told what to whom?”

“Her! Your precious Lady Somerville.” She looked away as she spoke, to stare grimly into the embers, and so did not see him stiffen at her tone. “You told her about…” She paused, swallowing hard. “About when you…when I…about what you did to me.”

He understood at once and cursed fluently. “Is that what has been troubling you?”

She nodded, thinking that would do for a start.

“Megan’s been flapping her tongue again, I see. I will have something to say to her about that, believe me.” When she looked up at him accusingly, he admitted sharply, “Oh, I told her, but it was not as you think. You were in one of your sulks, and she asked me—in jest, mind you—if I was not sometimes tempted to smack you. I tried to laugh it off, but she asked point-blank if I ever had done so, and though I told her it was no concern of hers, she knew the answer by looking at me. I swear that’s all, lass. We have not been discussing you behind your back.”

She was far from satisfied, but the thought occurred to her that if she were to press the issue, he might well ask how Megan had come to mention her knowledge. Such a question would lead inevitably to a much more awkward discussion. Even now, if he were to take Megan to task for talking too much, the truth of the spilled claret would no doubt be divulged to him.

“Is that all, Mary Kate?”

“You kissed her!”

For a moment he looked puzzled. Then his brow cleared and he shot her a direct, unrepentant, even a challenging look. “Aye, you’re right, I did. An innocent kiss in front of a roomful of friends. What about it?”

“You spend all your time with her.”

“Women!” He snorted. “I do not spend all my time with her, and you know it. I don’t know what has got into you, madam, but if you are angry because I danced often with her tonight, I’ll tell you to your head that I did so only because you seemed determined to avoid me and I preferred dancing with my cousin to being accused of flirting with any of the local wenches. You are jealous without cause.” He paused, glaring. “If anyone has reason, it is I, the way you were leading all those damned fellows about by the nose. And what about Ned Lumsden, eh? He was never far from your side that I could see.”

He was building up a good healthy anger, and she stared at him, amazed. “You are jealous.”

“Huh? Nonsense!” he snapped. “If I thought there were cause to be jealous, you’d have heard me say so long since.” He controlled his temper with visible effort. “This discussion is pointless, Mary Kate. I am too tired to argue. If you would set aside your own foolish jealousies and your ridiculous highland prejudices long enough to make an effort to like Megan, I believe you would find the task not so difficult as you think.”

She glared at him. “It is not mere jealousy that I feel, sir, and as for my prejudices, as you choose to call them, I have found little to prove they are not simple truths instead. Indeed, your failure to consider that there must be two versions to any tale does much to strengthen my opinion of border men. And if you are so tired,” she added tartly, “perhaps I had better sleep in my own bed.”

“Don’t be absurd.” He stood and pulled her to her feet. “You overreact, sweetheart, see demons where they don’t exist. Now, cease your deaving, and come to bed.”

She obeyed reluctantly, annoyed that he could still think her beliefs only foolish prattle and certain, too, that she was too keyed up to sleep. Nevertheless, she was exhausted and fell into deep slumber almost the moment her head touched the pillow.

The next morning, when she awoke with vague memories of wakefulness and disturbed dreams, she did not feel at all rested. Her eyelids were heavy with sleep, and she would have liked to remain right where she was, but she could not lie abed, for the family meant to attend service at the nearby village kirk.