Thorn in My Heart (50 page)

Jamie's heart swelled to hear Rose's confession again. She
did
love him. Why had he ever doubted it?

Leana's voice was strained to the breaking point. “Rose, don't you see? /love Jamie, even more than you do.”

“How
dare
you judge my feelings? I
do
love him. I realized it in Twyneholm.”

Of course.
Apart from him Rose had come to her senses. Jamie leaned against the doorpost, his head aching, as Leana's words echoed his thoughts.

“Oh, Rose. If only I'd known your true feelings. I never meant to hurt you.”

“Hurt
me? You've
ruined me”

Leana's voice was low, emotionless. “Nae, sister. I am the one who is ruined. I meant only to let Jamie choose.”

“But he
did
choose, and he did not choose
you
, Leana. He chose me! He loves
me!”

For a moment the room was silent. Jamie felt his heart pounding against his chest, grateful they couldn't hear it.

At last Leana spoke. “Feelings sometimes…change, Rose.”

Nae.
Jamie reached for the latch, pausing only long enough to take a full breath. He would not, not for one minute, let Rose think he no longer loved her. Pushing open the door, he walked into the room unannounced, then latched the door behind him. The two sisters were standing an arms length apart, both their faces ravaged with tears, looking more aghast the closer he came.

“Rose. Leana. Forgive my intrusion.” Tension came off them in waves. “Since I was an unwitting party to all this…this…well, I thought…perhaps…” There was naught to be done but say what he'd come to say. “You must know, Rose. You
must
know that I love you. Have loved you from the moment we met.”

“Then why, Jamie?” Her eyes implored him.
“Why?”
Her broken voice tore him asunder. “If it was my kisses you missed, could you not have waited one…more…day?”

“Rose, dear Rose.” Swallowing hard, he drew closer, taking her limp hands in his. “I would have waited a lifetime for you. Had I known, had I realized…” He lifted her hands to his lips and lighdy kissed the tender center of each palm, first one, then the other, gazing steadily at her all the while.

She would no longer look him in the eye nor acknowledge his touch. “I trusted you, Jamie,” she whispered. “Just as I trusted Leana. You have both deceived me all these weeks.”

“Nae!” Jamie and Leana spoke in unison, their gazes meeting for an instant.

“Nae,” he said firmly, turning back to Rose. “I never thought of Leana… in that way. Only of you, Rose. What happened is most unfortunate.”

“Unfortunate?!”
Rose yanked her hands free and wiped away fresh tears. “Is that what the kirk is calling
hochmagandy
in the new year?”

“Rose!” Leana's shocked expression mirrored his own. “Such words are not proper for a young woman to—”

“Och!” Rose
shook her skirts at Leana, as though flicking dirt from her hem. “How
dare you
speak of what's proper after what you've done?
You
have forced me to use such words, Leana. You, who taught me all that I knew and everything I believed. Now I don't know
what
to believe! You have stolen my husband and my future,
all in one night!”

“Dearest…” Leana reached out to her, only to have Rose shrink back from her touch. “I will keep saying I'm sorry until you believe me, until you understand that I never meant to harm you, that I did what I did because…”

“Because you loved him.” Rose's dark eyes narrowed to pinpoints, the corners of her pretty mouth turned down into an ugly frown. “What a pity, Leana, that he does not love you in return.”

Jamie took a step back, giving the sisters a wider berth. He had foolishly waded into very deep water and found himself at a loss how to make his way back to dry ground. He looked at Leana, a host of emotions churning inside him. He did not envy her this day. She had brought it upon herself, upon all of them, but a spark of sympathy warmed his heart toward her. However misguided her love for him, it was genuine. And her love for Rose was beyond question.

“Leana,” he said softly, barely touching her elbow, “have you told your sister about your fathers…terms?”

“The seven days? The seven months?” Leana turned toward him, her
eyes
washed clear as quartz by her tears. “Those arrangements were made for your benefit and for our father's. Not for mine. And certainly not for Rose's. Suppose you explain them to her, Jamie, while I pack.” Turning away from them both, Leana pulled a dress from the clothes press and a handful of necessities, then disappeared into the hall, calling softly for Neda.

Fool! To
have walked into their room as though he had a perfect right, when these women had known each other all their lives and known him all of three months. Aye, he was a fool, and now he would pay for the stupidity that had brought him there.

“Rose,” he began, praying she would understand, “I asked your father if there was any way I might still earn your hand in marriage…that is, if you want me…”

“
Want
you?” She stared at him, incredulity on her features. “Jamie, I
love
you. It will take time to sort through my feelings, but this much I do know: You have been badly used, as I have. I hold my sister accountable for all of it.”

“Wait.” He held up his hand, shocked at how quickly he came to Leanas defense. “Your father played a part in this, Rose. Do not blame your sister, not completely. All three of us were deceived, I most of all.”
Deservedly so.
A thread of guilt wound itself around his windpipe, making it harder to breathe.

She clutched a handkerchief in her hands, wrapping it absendy around her fingers. “What sort of arrangements did Father offer you?”

Jamie carefully explained the terms, watching as her face registered each scandalous detail.

When he finished, she sank onto her dressing table stool in a near faint. “Jamie, I cant bear the thought of it. Of you…of my sister.”

“Don't think of it, Rose.” He knelt beside her, but she pulled back from him. “Dont think of any of it. Spend the week with Susanne, if you like. Or perhaps Aunt Meg might come to Auchengray.”

Her eyes, swollen and red from crying, took on a spiteful glare. “Fine plans you're making for me, Jamie. A visit with a friend who attended my own wedding when I did not. An aunt who would fuss and cluck over me as she does her chickens. While you and Leana…while you…” Her voice broke on a sob, and she turned away, soaking the chair with her tears. When he reached for her, she swatted his arm. “Dont…touch…me!”

Och!
‘The situation was impossible. He spun about the room, giving her time to cry unabated, thinking of what he might say.
The future.
Aye, that was what they must discuss. Not the week ahead and certainly not yestreen. “Rose,” he murmured, kneeling beside her again, “this time next Thursday all will be as before: Jamie and Rose, anticipating our wedding day. The first of August.” He rested no more than his
fingertips on her sleeve. “Summer is a fine time for a wedding, don't you think?”

She fell back against the chair to face him, her face blotched with red, drained of emotion. “Jamie, we've already
had
our wedding at Newabbey. Reverend Gordon will not put up with such…irregularities.”

“Your father has already agreed to meet with the kirk session. The parish records will show that on 31 December I married Leana McBride. Since the marriage has been”—even saying the word brought a flush to his neck—“has been consummated, Reverend Gordon will have litde choice in the matter.”

“And the gossips?”

He waved his hand dismissively. “Let them talk. It is not
you
they will find fault with, Rose. It is Leana. And perhaps me. Never you. Once she is…put aside, we'll be free to marry. In Monnigaff if you prefer. The kirk is older but a fine building.”

She eyed him, a newfound cynicism in her raised brow. “Would you divorce a wife so easily as that?”

“Not easily, Rose. I am grieved for your sister. Her future is bleak, as you well know. No man will have her as his wife. She will spend the balance of her life in quiet disgrace, caring for your father into his old age. Should the kirk session choose, they may assign her several Sabbath days on the repentance stool.”

Rose sat up straighter. “Jamie, they wouldn't dare!”

“They might, lass. ‘Tis rare to see the stool of repentance used in the kirk of late, but Monnigaff keeps theirs polished, and I suspect Newabbey does as well.” He dearly hoped Leana would not be subjected to such public humiliation. To mount the wooden stool in front of the pulpit, dressed in a coarse white linen gown, her head and feet bared, her grievous sin announced to the whole congregation, her penance addressed in the sermon—Jamie would not wish that on anyone, not even a woman who'd stolen into a man's bed under false pretenses.

Rose knew what the repentance stool entailed as well; its terrors were written all over her face. “Is there…no hope for her?”

“Aye, but that hope is at your expense, Rose. If Leana conceives
a child during those seven months, then I am bound to remain her husband.”

Roses countenance fell. “Leana is healthy and very much wants a child.”

He lowered his voice. “That would require my…ah, my cooperation. And I have no intention of being cooperative once this appalling week is over. Do we understand each other, Rose?”

She nodded, her features softening for the first time since he'd entered the room. “Yes, Jamie.”

“The first of August then.” He leaned forward and kissed her forehead, then each cheek, and finally, when he knew she would allow it, her mouth, wet from her tears. Soft, sweet, innocent lips. Untouched and untried. “I will buy you a new kell, my fair Rose,” he murmured. “More lovely than this one. We will start anew, the two of us. If you will wait for me another seven months, I will prove that my love for you has never faltered.”

“I will wait, Jamie McKie. But I cannot promise those months will be easy for any of us.” She sighed, frown lines erasing any remnant of childish innocence from her face. “For the moment, Leana awaits you. Your…wife.”

“For the moment,” he reminded her, standing to leave. “We will return to Auchengray the Thursday next. Until then, know that you are the woman I love, Rose.” He bent to brush his lips against her hair. “You alone.”

When the heart's past hope,
the face is past shame.

S
COTTISH
P
ROVERB

Y
ou canna fool me, Leana.” Neda wagged a work-worn finger at her. “Lining your basket with pine cones, tying on sprigs of mistletoe. I ken what ye're aboot, lass.”

Leana offered the housekeeper a slight nod, grateful to have one friend left at Auchengray. Most of the household simply avoided her, though some raked her with their
eyes
or whispered as she hurried past them gathering what she needed for her bridal week in Dumfries with Jamie. He was still upstairs with Rose, though Leana expected him to appear shortly, impatient to be off, even more eager to return home. They would be traveling by dark, and though the day had been unusually bright, the long winter's night promised to be bitterly cold. Jamie, colder still.
Please God, let it not be so.

Determined to make the most of her time with Jamie, Leana had filled her traveling basket with the necessary ingredients for a fruitful week, gathered from her neatly stored collection of seeds and nuts, roots and plants from the stillroom. Neda peeked over her shoulder, making noises of approval. “Hmmm. Cucumber, mustard, and poppy seeds. Guid. A bag of currants and hazelnuts for ye to nibble on. Aye, that's right. And wild carrots from the cellar for Jamie. Well done, Leana. If yer hearts desire is to fill yer womb with a wee babe, ye've certainly packed yer basket well. Anythin else in there?”

“Hope.” Leana tucked the last of the seeds into a safe corner. “Hope that Jamie will not treat me unkindly. Hope that I can please him as a wife. Hope that I will come home next Thursday bearing the seed of a son inside me.”

“Or a daughter,” the older woman teased, regarding her with a kind smile. “Hope is the wisest medicine of all. Me mither always told me if it weren't for hope, the heart would break.”

“My heart is already broken, Neda.” She sighed heavily, swinging the basket over her arm. “Jamie will never love me. Rose will never forgive me. Our neighbors will never invite me through their doors again.”

“That's a lot of nivers for a young woman to worry over.” Neda gen-dy took her basket from her and placed it on the cutting table, then grasped both her hands, squeezing them as only Neda could, with a firm yet gende grip. Her voice was low, soothing, a mother comforting a hurting child. “Ye made a mistake, lass.”

Ashamed, Leana lowered her head, biting back tears. “Aye.”

“Ye're not the first woman whose heart took her places she never meant tae go.” Neda ducked her head to catch Leana's eye. “Who knows? Ye may already be carryin Jamie's babe. Have ye thocht o’ that?”

Leana's head lifted slighdy and her spirits with it. “Nae, I'd not even considered it.”

“Ye see?” Neda's ruddy face smiled from brow to chin. “Swallow yer herbs and seeds if ye like, but remember who has the power to fill yer womb, and I dinna mean yer husband.”

Leana nodded and offered a faint smile in return. “I ken your meaning: ‘Children are an heritage of the LORD.’ But, Neda, I can barely bring myself to ask God for his forgiveness. How dare I ask him for a blessing?”

“D'ye think the Almighty blesses only those who deserve it?” Neda laughed softly. “None of us is worthy, lass. Not one. He blesses whom he chooses, and we thank him when he does. That's the way of it.”

Leana sniffed, squeezing Neda's hands. “You make the most difficult things sound simple.”

“They are simple, dearie.”

Leana looked up to find the light of mercy and grace shining in the older woman's
eyes.
“Oh, Neda.” Overcome, she fell forward and pressed her teary cheek against Neda's weathered one. “Whatever would I do without you? You have truly been a mother to me.”