Thorn in My Heart (46 page)

Jamie spoke again, his voice low, taut as the strings on a fiddle. “Today my young bride will return to this house—her own home—not
even knowing there's been a wedding, let alone imagining there's been a wedding night. Without her.”

“Ah. I see.” Leana sighed with a small measure of relief, beginning to understand. He, too, was worried about how her sister might receive the news. “You're afraid Rose may be disappointed.”

“Disappointed? Have
you not heard one word I've said?”

She tossed her hand into the air. “None of your words have made sense, Jamie.”

“Then I will make myself quite clear. But first, you will get dressed. Since it appears you brought no clothes of your own to this room, you can wear this for the time being.” Jamie snatched his discarded waddin sark from the floor and threw it at her.

Her hands shook as she let the sheet fall to the floor and slipped the shirt over her head, struggling to weave one hand through a long, voluminous sleeve, then another. A shirt she had stitched. For her sister. For her husband. Leana tugged it over her head, pulling her hair free, grateful to be covered at least to her knees. She shivered inside the sark. It wasn't the cold that troubled her; it was Jamie. His heartless gaze made her feel soiled. Discarded.

“Please, Jamie. I'm dressed, after a fashion, and I'm listening. Tell me what this is all about.”

“It's about deception, Leana.” He walked closer, yet still kept his distance. “It's about pretending you were Rose and stealing what was rightfully hers.”

Her mouth fell open.
Surely not.
He couldn't possibly think she would do such a dreadful, sinful thing. “N-no, Jamie. I stood in the kirk before God and man and vowed to take you as my husband.”

“That was not the way of it, Leana. You were speaking for Rose.”

“Aye, the minister said her name, but, Jamie, you must have known in my heart—”

“I did wiknow!”

“But you kissed me as though you cared for me. As though you loved me—”

A spark flared in his eyes. “I never said the word
love?

“But we danced. You held me. You…you fed me, you touched my lips.”

“Aye, fool that I was and drunk as I was, I did.” He exhaled, his anger abating. “I wanted my bride there, but you were there instead. Perhaps my actions were not completely honorable. For that—for that
one thing
, Leana—I do apologize.”

She closed her eyes for a moment, shutting out the painful light and the hard look on his face, only to be tormented by the scent of him on his shirt, in her hair, on her skin. “You did much more than that, Jamie McKie.” She opened her eyes to be sure he was listening. “You told me you loved me. And I believed you.”

His ill temper returned, first on his face, then in his voice, which pierced her heart like a sword. “I never said I loved you!”

“Aye…you…did.” She choked on the words. “Yestreen you did.”

He spoke through clenched teeth. “I thought I was speaking to your sister.”

A chill ran along her spine.
He truly thought I was Rose.
If he meant that, if he was being honest with her…
Please, God. Dont let that be the truth of it.

“Jamie.” She spoke slowly, trying to grasp how it could have happened. “I came to you as myself, as Leana. The moment I climbed into your bed I told you who I was.”

“Nae.” He shook his head and kept shaking it, as though doing so would make it so. “You did not tell me who you were.”

“Aye,” she persisted, “I did.” That much she knew to be true. “I said, ‘Jamie, its me/ I was certain you'd know my voice.”

“But you whispered.”

“I did not want to starde you.”

“The woman was worried about
startling
me?!” He gripped his hair for a moment, as though to yank it out of his head. “When morning came, I was more than startled. I was undone.” His voice rose to a fever pitch. “Do you understand, Leana? I'm a man with two wives. Or
no
wife. Heaven knows what the kirk will do with all of this.”

Her legs began to tremble. “Jamie, I thought I was doing the right
thing. I thought /was the one you wanted. After everything that happened between us at the kirk…and then in the barn…and then on the stair…I thought…”

“Nae, you did
not
think, Leana. You felt. But you did not think.”

Leana sank into a chair and bent forward, letting her hair touch the floor and cover her bare legs, though nothing could cover her shame. “I knew only that I loved you. And I thought that you loved me. When I came to your bed and I said your name…”

Och! You should have said
your
name. Before it all began.” He was standing over her, his voice bearing down on her like thunder. “Why didn't you, Leana? Why didn't you say your name, just once?”

“I was waiting…I was waiting…” Her heart, broken and mended many times before, shattered into pieces. Tears streamed across her knees and down her legs. She could not say anything for a long time, and when she finally spoke, her confession sounded as foolhardy and selfish as it was. “I was waiting for
you
to say my name, Jamie. Just once.”

Thou hast stept in between me and my hopes,
And ravish'd from me all my soul held dear.
Thou hast betrayd me.

N
ICHOLAS
R
OWE

L
eana!” A woman's voice, followed by a series of light taps on the door next to his. “Sleeping late are we, dearie?”

Jamie's head snapped in the direction of the hall. The world had come looking for them; they could hide no longer. He bent over Leana and spoke in a terse whisper. “Do you hear? It's Neda. She expects to find you in your room.”

Leana, folded over like a lifeless doll, merely shook her head but did not speak. Jamie groaned in frustration. Apparendy the lass cared nothing about preserving her reputation, not even under her own roof. He'd have to handle things and without delay.

He straightened, then slicked a hand across his damp, unbound hair. “I'll send Neda down the stair on an errand. Haste to your room and find something to wear. Something that's yours.” He strode across the room and flung the door open, flashing his most disarming smile. “Neda Hastings!” He closed the door firmly behind him. “The very woman I need this morning.”

“Is that so, Mr. McKie?” The older woman regarded him evenly, her wise eyes measuring him and, he sensed, finding him lacking. “Yestreen at the bridal feast, sir, the only woman ye needed was Leana. Yer sister-in-law. No wonder the puir lass is sleepin later than usual. Ye wore her out dancin.”

“Aye,” he agreed. The knot in his stomach loosened. “I'm afraid we enjoyed one strathspey too many.” Neda didn't know, it seemed. Or she knew very well and was pretending otherwise. “Is there news from Twyneholm?”

Neda bit her lip. “Nae, nary a word yet. But since the weather is sae mild here for the first of January, we're praying ‘twill be fair there as well. By dinner, please God, ye'll be seein yer young bride.”

“Please God,” he echoed, eager to see her, dreading it as well.
Oh, sweet Rose.

“The pair of you missed my fine wedding breakfast,” she scolded him, stepping away from Leana's door and lowering her voice. “And without the usual wedding night excuses.”

“Forgive me, Neda.” He'd forgotten it completely. “I must confess, I did indulge myself more than necessary at the feast yestreen.”

“Aye, well, so did Mr. McBride, though he found his way to the breakfast table by nine.”

Jamie glanced at the slanted rays streaming through the hall window. “What time is it?”

“Nearly one. Dinner is a bit later today. New Year's Day and all. Your uncle is in the spence, should ye have need of him. Ye can be certain he will ring the bell at two o'clock and expect ye prompdy at his table.” Neda turned to Leana's door and raised her knuckles, prepared to knock again.

“Wait.” He captured her hand, lowering it to her side. “Let her sleep, Neda. I promise I'll knock again for you in a bit.”

She arched a brow at him. “All well and good, sir, but ye'll not help her dress.”

“Nae.” The skin beneath his cravat grew warm. “I'll leave that to your able hands. Might you give the lass another half-hour though? ‘Twas a long day.”

“So it was.” She gathered her drugget skirt in her hands and started down the stair, calling over her shoulder, “Comb yer hair, lad. Ye look like ye've not slept a wink yerself.”

Jamie stepped back into the room, grateful when the latch closed behind him. Leana was standing by Rose's dressing table, her back to him, still wearing his wrinkled waddin sark loose about her shoulders. She'd pinned her hair up and was bathing herself with a wet cloth, the mirror reflecting her pale skin, painted gold by the sun. He closed his
eyes and pleaded for strength. Was there one moment in the darkened box bed when he'd known it was Leana? And hadn't minded?

“Leana.” He kept his voice low but heard the tremor in it. He moved toward her, averting his eyes. “You must dress for dinner. To be served at two o'clock, Neda says.”

“What…what else did she say?”

“We've had no word from Rose, but they're looking for your sister to arrive any moment.”

She turned toward him, love and sorrow pooled in her eyes. “Jamie, I can never say I'm sorry enough.”

“Nae, lass. You cannot.” He looked away, unable to bear the burden of her grief as well as his own.

“What…what will you do now, Jamie?”

“Speak to your father. Explain the situation.”

“Good.” She nodded briskly, clearly relieved. “Father will help you understand.”

“Understand what?” The knot in his stomach returned.

“Why I served as your proxy bride to begin with.” Her gaze was guileless, her expression sincere. “Why I danced with only you and came to your room to claim you as my husband. My father will explain everything.” She took a step closer, her hands clutching the towel. “Perhaps then you will find it in your heart to forgive me. I realize now that you do not love me. But I cannot bear for you to hate me.”

Jamie scarcely heard her last words, so stunned was he by her bold statement:
My father wiexphin everything.
Was the deception not Leana's alone then? His jaw hardened. “What has my uncle to do with this?”

Her gaze shifted to the floor. “He told me…that is, he assured me I would be doing the right…well, that it was…necessary.”

“Necessary?!”

“Please, Jamie. Go.” Her eyes pleaded with him even more than her words. “Now, before Rose arrives. Ask Father all the questions you like. He can explain…everything.”

“Och! Whatever lies he told you, you can be certain they benefited Lachlan McBride. He will indeed explain himself this very hour.”

Jamie turned to leave and glanced at the box bed in passing. Its covers were thrown back, the bed linens exposed to the unflinching light of day.
God, help me.
The cloth was faindy stained with blood.
Leana.
A maiden no more. The thought sickened him. If Lachlan had done such a heinous thing, sacrificing his daughters innocence for his own gain, the man deserved to be shot.

“Be ready by two o'clock.” He said it as calmly as he could, not wanting to wound Leana further. Not now. Not when the whole sordid picture was coming into focus.

Jamie did not recall storming out the door of his bedroom, or pounding down the stair, or striding through the house, or flinging wide the door to the spence. He only remembered the look of satisfaction on his uncles face when Lachlan looked up and saw him.

“Good morning, Nephew.” Lachlan put aside the book he was reading, taking his time about it. “Or should I say good afternoon?”

Jamie balled his fists to keep from hitting him and unleashed his fury in words.
“What have you done to me?”

“Done? A great favor, from my point of view.” Lachlan waved toward the empty chair across from him. “I've provided for your every need for a week, then for a month, then for another seven weeks. Most men would call me generous.”

Ignoring the offered chair, Jamie stepped closer, his neck thick with rage, his voice meant to convey what his fists could not. “I would call you something else.”

“Aye, you should.” Lachlan nodded calmly, reaching for his dram of whisky. “You should call me your father-in-law, for that is what I am.”

“Wheesht!”
Jamie knocked the pewter cup from the mans hand, sending a spray of dark liquid across the cover of Lachlan's bed, staining the embroidered fabric.

“Pity.” Lachlan merely shook his head, ignoring the outburst. “Leana worked long and hard on that bit of needlework.”

“We will speak of Leana in a moment.” Jamie forced himself to breathe, to keep his mind clear and his temper in check, at least until he had some answers. “But first, we will speak of Rose. And those seven weeks you mentioned. I worked hard, Uncle, mucking out your filthy
stables and feeding your starving sheep, every day except the Sabbath. I worked for Rose, for her bride price.”

“For Rose? I thought you worked for me.”

Jamie chewed on his words, then spat them out. “We had an arrangement, Lachlan. At the Globe in Dumfries, you told me—”

“Aye, I remember every word of our short conversation, Jamie. You agreed to work until Hogmanay. You asked, ‘Might I marry Rose then?’ ”

“Exactly!”
Jamie roared, no longer caring if his temper claimed the upper hand. “To which you agreed.”

“Wait.” Lachlan shook his finger at him. “I did not say aye’ or we are agreed’ or ‘it will be so.’ I simply said, ‘You might.’ There is no promise in the word
might
, now is there?”

Jamie sank into the chair in utter dismay. “
Why?
Why have you deceived me? All these months thinking Rose would be mine. From the very day I arrived. From the first hour I saw her.”

“She's a wee bonny lass, I'll grant you.” Lachlan retrieved his pewter cup and poured another dram as though nothing had happened. “Too young for marriage though. We both know that's true. Even Rose knew, but you wouldn't listen to her.”