The Highlander's Yuletide Love (21 page)

Sophy met her
eyes, startled, and stepped back, appalled at the depth of dislike she saw
there. “I have no idea what you think you know, Lady Ardfern, but, I can assure
you, the neighborhood need have no concerns for me. Nor should you.”

“Insolent girl,”
snapped Davina.

“You are
scarcely older than me,” said Sophy. “I see no reason why you would think me a
mere girl.”

Davina sneered. “Do
you think you are the first he has seduced? Last year it was me, and heaven
knows who else. His name is a byword among the ladies from the Border to
Inverness.”

“I have very
little interest in your doings with Colonel Stirling, Lady Ardfern,” said Sophy
distantly.

Davina stepped
closer. “I can smell him on you—you reek of him. Did he have you just now on
the terrace? He likes that, you know. He took me once outside in our garden,
while my husband slept in a chair in the drawing room.”

Sophy raised a
hand to her throat, feeling sickened by the other woman’s words and tone. “Lady
Ardfern, collect yourself. These are not things you should be telling me.”

Davina’s lip
curled. “Do you think you’ve taken him away from me? He’ll come back—he strayed
last year, but he found his way back to my bedchamber. He’ll not marry you, if
that’s what you’re thinking. He means to marry a comfortable widow, who will
bear him an heir and turn a blind eye to his amusements.”

“Colonel
Stirling is not yours, nor is he mine to take,” said Sophy firmly. “Whatever dealings
I may have with him are my affair, not yours.”

“Your
affaire
,
indeed,” hissed Lady Ardfern. “Don’t think you’ll hold him, Lady Sophia. You’re
far too inexperienced to hold his interest. He may amuse himself by deflowering
a gently bred lady, but he’ll not be intrigued for long. Soon you’ll be just
another of his women, whom he can pick up or put down as he chooses.”

Sophy stared at
her, wondering how to break away, when she saw the door to the terrace open and
Ranulf enter the room. A look of relaxed pleasure covered his face, but when he
looked about the room and saw Sophy speaking to Davina, he scowled and made his
way toward them. Sophy froze, not knowing what to do.

“Lady Ardfern,
how nice to see you,” he said calmly. “Allow me to escort you to your husband.”

Davina gave
Sophy a triumphant glance and turned to him, a flirtatious smile on her lips. She
leaned forward to give him an excellent view of her bosom. “Ranulf, dear. How
I’ve missed you,” she purred. “What a pity you have so many guests and we
cannot visit more.”

Ranulf smiled
back at her and took her arm. “I believe your husband wishes to speak with you,”
he said, stressing the word husband slightly. “Excuse us, Lady Sophia.”

Sophy watched,
stricken, as Ranulf led Davina away. Not waiting to see where they went, she
turned on her heel and strode to where Harriet sat, fanning herself and
contentedly watching the dancers.

“Mama, I have a
headache,” she said. “I am going to go to my room.”

“Oh, what pity!”
Harriet stood and looked at her closely. “You are flushed, my dear. But must
you go? The music is so beautiful, and you haven’t danced with Colonel Stirling
yet.”

“I—I have no
need to dance with Colonel Stirling,” she said, reflecting that she had already
done a great deal more than that with him. “Please, don’t make a fuss. I will
slip away and will scarcely be missed. I will see you in the morning.”

She dropped a
kiss on Harriet’s cheek and made her escape. Once clear of the drawing room,
she ran for the stairs and made straight for her bedroom, fighting back tears. Everyone
seemed to know about her connection with Ranulf, from his servants, to his
father, to his mistress. How had she allowed this happen? She felt a rush of
agony as she thought of what she had allowed him to do to her on the terrace,
and the words he had wrung out of her. Marriage to such a man would be a
misery. He would manipulate her as he chose, giving her pleasure, but even more
pain. She ran into her room, closing the door behind her. Silently, without
ringing for Wallis, she undressed and crawled into bed, her thoughts in
turmoil.

Hours later, as
she lay awake, silently staring at the ceiling while the last embers died in
the fireplace, she heard a soft knock. She sat bolt upright in bed, staring at
the door.

“Sophy?”

It was Ranulf’s
voice.

“Sophy, are you
awake?”

She raised her
knees and wrapped her arms around her legs, staring out into the dimness. She
could see a flicker of candlelight under the door and pictured Ranulf on the
other side of it, his dark eyes and handsome face, his broad shoulders under an
elegant evening coat. She pictured again their encounter on the terrace, and
felt her cheeks grow warm.

“Sophy. Please,
open the door. I wish to speak to you.”

There was a long
silence, and then he spoke again. “Did the Lady of Ardfern say aught to upset
you? You should not listen to her if she did.”

Sophy sank back
into her pillows, a bitter smile on her face. She had almost given in to the
impulse to open her door, but his words halted her. It would not do to make a
fool of herself twice in one night, and she had little doubt what would happen
if she allowed him to touch her.

“I hope you are
asleep, my sweet. If not, know that I am thinking of you.”

Sophy heard
Ranulf’s steps move away, and watched the glow of the candle fade from under
the door. With a sigh she turned her face into her pillow, fighting back tears.

When Glencairn
strolled into the stables the next morning, he found Ranulf already there, busy
conversing with the head groom as one of the others tacked up his big bay. The
colonel looked up, and nodded at the earl.

“A horse for his
lordship, Sandison,” he said to the groom.

Sandison tipped
his cap, “I’ve a fine gray for you, my lord. Let me have one of the men bring
him out.”

Soon, a well-built
horse appeared, led by another groom, as Ranulf and Glencairn discussed the
quality of the oats that were ripening in the fields and the size of the first
hay cutting. Minutes later both of the men were mounted, and walking their
horses out of the stable yard. The hills of Argyll rose in the distance, a
purple-grey mass behind the rippling gold of the early ripening oats in the
fields they rode along. A few high clouds occupied the pale blue dome of the
sky, but the sunshine was bright enough on the dark wool of the men’s riding
coats to make them warm in spite of the slight dampness in the early air. They
trotted along in silence for a few moments, only the sound of the horse’s
hooves on the farm track and slight creaking of a saddle or jingling of tack
competing with the singing of the birds.

Ranulf brought
his horse to a walk and pointed to the edge of the oat field, where row upon
row of low plants with coarse green leaves a foot or more high were to be seen.

“My father
doesn’t know I planted these swedes here,” he said. “He’s very much opposed to
these modern ideas about crop rotation, but the soil of Spaethness is not the
best, and the home farm and the tenants both need to get every bit of use out
of the fields that we can.”

“Better farming methods
are good for the landholder and the tenants,” Glencairn agreed. “It’s a pity
that your father can’t see it, but you are doing the right thing. He’s
fortunate you have taken such an interest even though you are so new to
managing the estate.”

“It’s like being
in the army and taking care of my men,” Ranulf replied. “I need to do the best
thing for the tenants, just as I did for the troops.” There was a companionable
silence as they moved on for a few minutes, and then he spoke again. “I have
enjoyed having you and your family here at Spaethness.”

“Lady Glencairn
has certainly been overjoyed to see her ‘romantic Trossachs,’” Glencairn
responded. “The rest of us have enjoyed it as well. It’s good for my children
to see other parts of their homeland. “

Ranulf slowed
his horse to a walk and cleared his throat awkwardly, running a finger under
his neckerchief. “There is one member of your family who I hope might be
interested in making Spaethness not just another part of her homeland, but her
home,” he said obliquely.

He waited for
Glencairn to reply, but not receiving one, Ranulf plunged on. “I’m sure you
must have noticed the high regard in which I hold Lady Sophia,” he said
formally. “I hope it will not surprise you to hear that I wish to pay my
addresses to her.”

“I have noticed
your interest in her for some time,” Glencairn answered. “I think you are a man
of character and substance who would make Sophy a fine husband, and I’m sure
that we would have no trouble coming to agreement on the settlements. I would
be only too pleased to know she is eligibly settled not far from Glencairn, and
her stepmother would be ecstatic to welcome you to the family.”

Ranulf smiled at
these words, and clearly wanted to reply, but Glencairn held up a hand, before
continuing in a serious tone. “However, although I am convinced she has a
definite partiality for you, I’m not certain she will admit it to herself, let
alone anyone else. I think it best that I mention your interest in making an
offer to her before you declare yourself.”

Ranulf was
clearly displeased by this reply, frowning for a moment before reflecting that
Glencairn could hardly be aware of the level of intimacy he had achieved with
his daughter. “Lady Sophia is of age, Glencairn, and I am five and thirty,” he said
in a moderated tone. “Surely we can be trusted to manage such a conversation on
our own.”

Glencairn shook
his head. “I don’t think Sophy knows her own mind or heart. Perhaps she will
welcome your offer, and to be sure, I hope she does. But if not, I would like
to avoid a scene that might make it difficult for you to press your suit in the
future. Do you take my meaning?”

Ranulf looked
away, pondering the earl’s words. “Yes, I see your point, sir. Although I want
to make an offer to her in person, immediately, it may be best for you to see
how the wind blows. I do understand that she has very mixed feelings about
herself, her aspirations, and not least, me.”

“Very well then,”
Glencairn said. “I will speak to her, today if possible, and if not, tomorrow morning.
“ He continued in a softened tone, “I would like nothing more than to call you
son, but first we must do what we can to ensure that is possible.”

Ranulf nodded
and moved his horse into a trot. The gentlemen continued their ride around
Spaethness, studiously confining their conversation to farming and other
conventional topics.

Later that
afternoon, Glencairn found Harriet and Sophy coming in from a stroll in the
gardens, and stopped them as they prepared to go upstairs to change for dinner.

“Ah, Sophy,
please step into the drawing room with me for a moment,” he said.

Sophy gave him a
questioning look, but followed him into the empty room, as Harriet went
upstairs. She seated herself, and Glencairn stood by the fireplace. He cleared
his throat.

“Ranulf Stirling
and I went out for a ride around Spaethness this morning,” he remarked.

“Yes, Papa, I
know that,” Sophy replied.

“In spite of his
lack of experience in estate management, I think he will be a worthy successor
to his father.”

“Yes, he seems
to have a very strong sense of duty to the land and his tenants,” Sophy agreed
patiently.

“Spaethness will
need a lady as well as a laird,” Glencairn continued, eyeing her cautiously.

Sophy frowned
slightly, and he continued without giving her a chance to reply. “Young
Stirling has asked me for permission to pay his addresses to you, Sophy.”

Sophy clasped
her hands nervously together in her lap. She had hoped that, after she had
refused to open her door the night before, Ranulf might be wise enough to not
proceed with his plan. Clearly, he thought the allure of his lovemaking was
enough to hold her, however. “Oh, no, I couldn’t marry him!” she said firmly.

Glencairn,
expecting a joyfully affirmative answer, glared at her. “And why not, miss?”

“He is so – he is
too – I don’t…” her voice trailed off.

“What the devil
is that supposed to mean?” demanded the earl.

“Why that, I
don’t--I can’t—I--I don’t wish to marry him, Papa.”

“He is rich,
handsome, responsible, and charming. You’ve done nothing but live in his pocket
these past weeks, and I’ve allowed the two of you to be alone together more
times than I can count, which has caused me some worries. I can tell there is
at least some attraction between you, so do not try to gammon me on that
subject, miss! Your stepmother realizes it as well,” Glencairn pointed out.

Sophy stared up
at him, dismayed. She realized she had not counted on her family’s fondness for
Ranulf. It was just like him, she thought bitterly, to use his charm to make it
difficult for her to refuse him. “But I wish to paint! And you both said I
might try! Will you renege on your promise to me now?”

“What nonsense
it this? As though you’ve ever been refused anything. Ranulf knows about your
painting and doesn’t appear to object to it,” her father pointed out. “He has
even allowed you to paint a portrait of him.”

“Yes, but a
gentleman expects to exercise a great deal more control over the activities of
a lady once he marries her, than while he is courting her,” Sophy pointed out
with devastating accuracy. The thought of life at Spaethness with a man so
charming he could hold her in his thrall, but who was also unfaithful, made her
heart sink.

Glencairn had no
ready rejoinder. He paced up and down the drawing room a few times, his hands behind
his back, and then came to a halt in front of her. “Very well, I will tell him
that you will not hear him now. But I will also tell him he may approach you
again later.” He observed the mutinous look on her face. “Do not argue with me.
I know very well, as does your mama, that you find Ranulf Stirling very
appealing. I have no idea what notion has gotten into your head to turn away
such an extraordinary man, and in this way I hope I may buy you some time. My
fear is that he will lose interest in you when he finds out how little sense
you truly have.”

Sophy hung her
head. It was impossible to explain to her father the circumstances that made
her feel marriage to Ranulf would be impossible. “Very well, papa. But please,
may I return to Glencairn as soon as I can do so politely? It will be awkward
to stay here.”

Glencairn glared
at her. “Perhaps some awkwardness would be a just reward
.”

But when a tear
trickled down Sophy’s cheek, he couldn’t help himself. He gathered his daughter
up in his arms. “Never mind, my dear. I think you two are well suited—perhaps,
with a little more time, you will come to realize it too.”