Thorn in My Heart (34 page)

Fear not, Jamie.
She could never be so cruel.

Leana threw back the covers, then padded across the room and slid the box behind the stack of books she'd borrowed from a neighbor's library for her winter reading. Nothing warmed a cold, dark afternoon like a well-told story. The eight volumes of Samuel Richardson's
CUrissa
beckoned, but she turned her back on them, thinking only of Jamie and the others who would soon come knocking on her door, inquiring after her health. By the time the knock came, she was freshly combed and well under the covers, seated straight up, with her hands washed and neady folded on the bedcovers. The bittersweet taste of elderflower lingered on her tongue. Though her voice was husky and her chest sounded full of brose, she forced herself to sound cheery. “Come in!”

Her father entered first, followed by Jamie, then Rose, with Eliza and another of the house servants trailing behind them, eyes wide with concern. Jamie looked the picture of health, his color high, his thick hair tousled by the long ride. Rose, standing rather close by his side, was bright eyed and pink cheeked. Leana, conscious of her own wan face and red-rimmed eyes, knew she was a poor match for her younger sister's beauty.

“Welcome…home…” Overcome by the smell of horseflesh and heath hanging about their clothes, Leana sneezed violendy. It was not at all the way she'd hoped to greet them.

“What remedies have you taken thus far?” Lachlan demanded. He
listened to her litany of herbs and seemed satisfied. “You'll heal soon enough, Daughter.” With a wave of his hand, her father summarily dismissed the servants and asked Rose and Jamie to wait downstairs. “I've need of my older daughters ear for a while. Come back shortly. And mind you, knock first.”

Leana's stomach tightened at their hasty departure. Something was wrong. Her fathers uneasy manner confirmed it. Lachlan paced the room, hands folded behind his back, eyes to the ceiling. The last footfall died on the stair before his gaze finally met hers and he spoke.

“You missed a bit of excitement in Dumfries, lass.”

“Nothing bad, I hope.” She sneezed again as he pulled a chair to her bedside and sat.

“Jamie found his stolen horse.”

She stared at him over her handkerchief. “His
horse?”

“Aye, most unexpectedly.” He pressed on with his story as Leana dabbed at her nose, trying to read her father's face in the candlelight.

“And what of Jamie? Will this be his last day with us?”

“He'll be staying a bit longer.” Lachlan's gaze remained fixed on hers. “Until Hogmanay, at the very least.”

“I don't understand.” Though she'd had no fever all day, her entire body flooded with heat, making her shiver in the chilly room. “Why is Jamie staying?”

“For a time and for a purpose.” Her father did not blink, nor did his face reveal his thoughts.

She sat up, pushing back the covers so she could breathe, so tight was her chest. “A purpose?”
Aye, to marry!
Perhaps he'd asked for her hand after all! “What purpose, Father?”

Lachlan pinched his mouth shut, causing the stubble of his beard to stand out, then frowned and released a heavy sigh. “They say God shapes the back for the burden, Leana. I trust the Almighty has strengthened yours to bear what I'm about to tell you.”

And then she knew.

“Tell me,” she whispered. Her shoulders sagged, preparing to receive the awful weight of truth.

His words cut like sharpened steel. “Jamie McKie has asked for Roses hand in marriage.”

Tears welled in her eyes. “Did you not tell him of my…my feelings for him, Father?”

“Och, lass.” He groaned, sounding a mite frustrated with her. “The proper time and place for such revelations never presented themselves.”

She fumbled for the handkerchief tucked in her nightgown sleeve, then attended to her nose, her hands still shaking, though now from grief instead of joy. “Only a week ago you said that Rose might catch his eye but I would catch the man. But I…1 did not, Father.” She broke down, her tears flowing in earnest. “I did not capture his eye. Nor his heart. I tried, truly I did, but…” Her moan was a keening, from deep inside her. “Jamie…Jamie would not…even…look…at me.” The words were lost among her sobs.

Jamie. Oh, my sweet Jamie.

When her father spoke at last, his voice was low. “It does not give me pleasure to see you suffer, child.”

She nodded glumly, blowing her nose yet again. He sounded as though he meant what he said, but she could not be certain.

“Leana, I had no choice but to agree to a wedding. His father ordained it. His fortune requires it. I am bound by blood to honor Jamie's desire for marriage.”

“What of my desire?” she whispered, ashamed the moment she said it.

“Your desire is for Jamie alone? No other man?”

“No other man will have me, Father, and you ken it well.”

Her father leaned back, letting one hand drop to his side while with the other he stroked his chin. “Then we've a problem, Leana, and not one easily solved.” After a long silence, he made an enigmatic statement, which she was too weary to examine. “Alec McKie's purse may be deeper and his boundaries wider, but I am still laird of Auchengray, am I not?”

“You are, Father.” She tried to smile, though the corners of her mouth barely lifted.

“Well then.” He stood, smacking his thighs as he did. “I hear your
sister and cousin on the stair. They will want to tell you more of this, I jalouse. Do what you can to look happy for them, Rose in particular. The less she knows of your true feelings for Jamie, the better. You ken my meaning, Daughter?”

Leana nodded. “Send her in alone, if you please. Then Jamie by himself, if you might allow that. Only for a moment, I promise.”

“Aye,” he agreed, though his brows knitted in warning. “When you speak to your cousin, see that the door is wide open and your bedcovers pulled up to your neck.”

He swung open the door and called in her sister, who slipped into the room and softly closed the door behind her. Leana caught a fleeting glimpse of Jamie's handsome face before it disappeared with a click of the latch. Rose took the seat her father had just vacated, her sprighdy form perched on the chair, her young face brimming with compassion.

“Father has told you everything then?”

Leana pressed her lips together, not trusting herself to speak.

Roses
eyes
filled with tears. “Oh, dear. I see that he has.” She pressed her hand against Leanas, which rested in her lap, balled around her damp handkerchief. Her voice was a hoarse whisper. “I'm so sorry, Leana.”

“Why would you be sorry when Jamie has chosen you?” Leana looked away, unable to bear the pity on her sister's face.

“Don't turn away.” Rose touched her cheek with a trembling finger. “Please, Leana. Jamie cares deeply for you…as…as his cousin. He simply had his mind made up from the start. Nothing I said or did seemed to alter his opinion. A stubborn and prideful man, our Jamie.”

“Not Our’ Jamie. Yours.” Leanas heart gaped like an open wound. Her sister's words felt more like stinging netde than soothing comfrey. “I'm pleased for you, Rose. A wealthy bridegroom, the very thing you wanted.”

“But not
now
, Leana. And not Jamie.” The strain in Rose's voice was palpable. “Leana, will you not look at me?”

She turned slowly back toward her sister. Rose, the motherless child whom she'd loved and cherished from birth.
My wee Rose.

Rose's face was white as bleached linen. Her dark eyes streamed
with tears. “Please, Leana. Father gave me no choice. Please forgive me. I cannot bear to see you hurt.”

Leana lifted a weak hand to her sisters cheek. “I know. I know, Rose. Dont cry, dearie. Be happy, and know that God will see to my happiness. So will Father. There's no need for tears.” She wiped them away with her thumb. “Send Jamie in so we might make our peace.”

Rose bobbed her head, then ducked out the door, barely looking in Jamie's direction as she shared Leana's request. He entered the room with hesitant steps, pushing the door wider as Leana pulled the bedding around her neck.

“Rose said you wanted to see me…alone?”

“With my father's blessing,” Leana explained, nodding to the chair. “This will not take long, Jamie. I simply want to ask you something.”

He sat as she requested, his eyes canvassing the room as though seeking an avenue of escape. “How…how are you feeling?”

“If you mean this common cold that has afflicted me, I will recover.”

His boldly chiseled jaw, in dire need of Hugh's razor, turned a ruddy color. “I…1 meant about the…wedding. About Rose and me.”

“I am…” What could she say?
Disappointed? Heartbroken? Undone?
“I am…happy for you,” she said at last. “But you must know…” The words caught in her throat. “You must know, Jamie…that I loved you.”

“And I'm grateful for it, lass.” His gaze was kind, nothing more. “No cousin in Scodand could be made more welcome than I was.”

“Nae…nae!” She shook her head. He must understand; he
must.
“Not merely as my cousin. I loved you as a woman loves a man. I love you still.”

He stood abrupdy, touching a finger to her lips. “Say no more, Leana.” The scarlet tint was gone from his face. His expression was grim. “We will always be family. And I will always care for you, as good cousins should. But it is Rose I love and Rose I will marry, come the last day of December. Promise me you will not speak of this…of your…feelings for me again.”

Leana fell back on her pillows, limp. “As you wish.”

Each time we love,
We turn a nearer and a broader mark
To that keen archer, Sorrow, and he strikes.

A
LEXANDER
S
MITH

L
eana wished the floor of the kirk might split open and swallow her whole: her gray serge dress, her ugly bonnet, and her broken heart.

Her father, seated next to her in the pew, turned and threatened her with naught but a raised eyebrow. He would brook no sentimental display of tears, no sense of injustice on her face. Lachlan had dutifully paid the
cryin siller
, the coins required for the marriage banns to be cried out three Sundays in a row. All of the Auchengray household knew; soon the entire parish would know.

A certain tension hung in the room at the crying of the marriage banns. More than one parish member had stood in the kirk and protested a match. Only a year ago a woman in another parish asked to have her banns stopped, on the grounds that she'd changed her mind and loved another.
Och!
The uproar in Mauchline that day.

Leana's gaze took in the soberly dressed assembly, bathed in the harsh gray light that streamed through the windows. None would speak against Jamie and Rose. Nor was the couple present to defend themselves if someone did. Jamie had taken Rose by chaise to Kirkbean parish that morning, nearly five miles south of Newabbey along the River Nith, because it was unlucky to hear their own banns read. Leana would listen on their behalf and keep her opinions to herself.

As the session clerk stepped forward, Jessie Newall, seated in the pew in front of her, turned her head slighdy. Their gazes met, and Jessie nodded in silent support. Hadn't Jessie seen her with Jamie by the hearth his first Saturday at Auchengray? Jessie turned forward again but
held Annie up to her shoulder, kindly making sure the child's sweet face was pointed toward Leana.

Her pink cheeks wet with drool, Annies eyes grew round with wonder at seeing familiar Leana. She started to squeal and was quickly hushed by her mother. Leana swallowed her sorrow and smiled at Annie, seeking comfort in the innocent joy before her, praying for the child to have the happiest of lives. If Annie was a lucky girl, she would grow up to love a man who loved her in return.

The session clerk lifted his hand, signaling silence for the crying of the marriage banns. All murmuring ceased. “I hereby proclaim the names of those seeking to be married in Newabbey parish. From Auchengray, James McKie wishes to wed Rose McBride on 31 December. Are there any present who claim some impediment to this marriage?”

Leana gripped her handkerchief.
Aye.
There were two impediments: Rose did not love Jamie enough, and she loved Jamie too much.

No voice raised an objection.

“And from neighboring Kirkbean parish, Fergus McDougal of Nethercarse wishes to wed Sarah Clacharty from Drum Mains in Newabbey parish on 4 December.”

Leana gasped. So did others. Whispers ran up and down the pews like mice. Heads turned. Faces stared at her, dark with accusation. Fergus had located another willing bride. No longer would the muddy waters of their ill-spent courtship splatter on his boots. Leana's skirts alone would be covered in shame.

She looked down at her hem, expecting to see the evidence. Her crime? Refusing to marry a man she could never respect, let alone love. Fergus had made it known that he'd withdrawn his proposal of marriage. Leana knew the truth: that she'd never heard his offer nor accepted it. But a woman's view of things was seldom published abroad. Sarah Clacharty was a young lass from a poor farm family who must have jumped at Fergus McDougal's suit. Poor Sarah would jump for the rest of her days to do the man's bidding. Leana did not envy the girl's bleak future; she only envied her wedding ring.

The congregation settled down, though sharply tipped arrows still found their way to Leana's pew. She fixed her gaze on Annie's face and pretended not to notice the others. She would endure the hours ahead and pray to God for mercy. When Jamie and Rose joined them after the first service, to share the family meal in the pew and stay for the afternoon sermon, she would pray for strength.

Leana bowed her head. The banns had already been read. The worst was over.

It was nearly one o'clock when Reverend Gordon spoke his benediction: “The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God, and the communion of the Holy Ghost be with us all. So be it.”
The love of God. So be it
Leana let the words sink in for a moment before slipping out the door to watch for Rose. The couple came riding up at a fast trot. Jamie held the reins high; Rose clasped her hat on with one hand and waved wildly at Leana with the other.