Thorn in My Heart (53 page)

True to her promise, Leana had never groveled or begged for his attention. She'd simply showered him with love. Warm glances, gende touches, sweet words, and an honesty that took his breath away. Leana's love knew no bounds and required no bindings, yet he felt inexplicably tied to the woman. ‘Twas a cord that would need to be sharply cut come the morns morn.

On their last night in Dumfries, the weather took a turn for the worse. “The hour grows late,” he murmured, extinguishing the last candle. A biting wind from the north rattled the inns windowpanes, the cold air whisding through the cracks and seeping beneath their bedcovers where they huddled in mutual despair.

“This will be the last then.” Leana spoke without giving away her true feelings.

“It must be,” he said, not needing to explain why. “I hope that I have…”

“You have.” She kissed him, and he tasted the tears on her lips. “Jamie, my sweet husband,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I love you still.”

Long after the Midsteeple bells rang at ten o'clock, they drifted into a fitful slumber, waking each other throughout the night without meaning to, tossing to and fro, trying to keep warm, trying to stay apart. At dawn they dressed quickly, avoiding each other's eyes, hastening down the stair to break their fast and be on their way to Auchengray. The
bitter night had frozen the muddy ground solid, making it easier for the two-wheeled chaise to manage the road from Dumfries. When they paid their toll four miles south of the burgh, Jamie noticed how few coins were left of his mothers gift, though the week had cost him more dearly than silver.

At least it had not cost him Rose. Her beauty, her laughter, her lively ways would be a welcome change after her plain, quiet sister. Yet Leana had stolen a part of him that he feared he could not retrieve. She'd touched his soul deeply, and Jamie resented her for it. For reaching a part of him he'd kept to himself, for exposing his weaknesses. As they rode in silence, a seed of bitterness grew inside him, turning into a smoldering anger the closer they came to Auchengray's gate.

They made the final turn east at Lochend about noon. Two short miles remained. He snapped his whip, eager to get home to innocent Rose and away from her older but wiser sister. Whatever had taken place between them in Dumfries was over and best forgotten.

“I dont want any unnecessary scenes,” he cautioned her. “From the moment we arrive, we are not to be alone in a room together nor to touch in any manner.”

“As you wish, Jamie.” Leana's cool voice infuriated him. He'd meant to hurt her, to push her away with his heardess request, and she refused to be vexed.

“If there should be some…unhappy news resulting from our time together, I trust you will let your father and me know as soon as you are certain.”

She regarded him evenly. “Would a son be unhappy news to you, Jamie?”

A son.
There could be no better news in the world. But not like this. He shrugged to hide his feelings. “I am thinking of Rose and how her hopes for the future would be crushed, along with mine.”

“But if
my
hopes are crushed, that is without consequence to you?”

“I cannot please two women, nor will I try to.”
There.
He'd ruffled her feathers. Let them stay so and keep them farther apart. Leana knew him too well, and that made her dangerous.

Rose was waiting for him at the window when they brought the chaise to a halt near the front door. “Jamie, Jamie!” She ran out the door without coat or hat, her cheeks pink from the cold, her long braid flying behind her.
Like a child.
His spirits lifted at the sight of her.
My sweet Rose! She
practically pulled him out of the chaise, ignoring her sister. If Leana climbed out on her own, he did not notice.

Duncan, Willie, and several of the others who labored in the farm steading strolled up, hiding something in their midst. “Dinna be walkin awa from us, lad.” Duncan produced a wicker creel weighed down, not with fish, but with stones. “In case ye dinna know, today marks yer first day back to work. Or have ye been workin hard all week?” Duncan winked at the others, whose good-natured laughter made Jamie's neck grow warm. “Ye must face yer
creelin
, Jamie McKie. Come, let me strap this basket on yer back. If ye ve been a worthy husband and assumed yer manly role, yer wife can cut ye free of it.”

Jamie asked Rose to wait for him, then walked toward the group, hiding his irritation. Such customs were for common working folk, not for well-bred gendemen.
And which are you, Jamie?Wixh
a grimace he offered his back to Duncan, who took his time strapping the creel on his shoulders while the others taunted Jamie about his manhood. “A more ridiculous wedding custom could not be found in all of Scodand,” Jamie fumed, which only made them laugh harder. When the weight of the heavy basket was frilly on his back, he fought to keep his balance, refusing to bend more than necessary.

“Do yer part, Mistress McKie,” Duncan chided, motioning the silent Leana to join them and handing her a sharpened dirk. “If Jamie's done right by ye, cut him free.”

Leana took the dirk in one hand and the cord tighdy wrapped around his shoulder in the other, keeping her pale gaze fixed on his.

Please, Leana.
His eyes pleaded with her.
Cut me free.

A maid whom there were none to praise
And very few to love.

W
ILLIAM
W
ORDSWORTH

D
aughter, a word, if you please.”

Lachlan was waiting for Leana inside the front door. Without preamble he steered her through the house and into the spence, latching the door behind them. “I have met with the kirk session and explained the situation to them.”

Her cheeks, flushed from Jamie's creelin, suddenly cooled. “The… situation?”

“Aye.” He regarded her evenly. “I told them you convinced Jamie to marry you instead of your sister, knowing there would not be sufficient time to change the kirk records before the vows were read.”

“But, Father, I—”

“I also told them God had revealed his will on the matter, demonstrated by the ill weather and Roses providential delay.”

“Do you really think—”

“Finally I assured them the marriage was swiftly consummated and legally binding.”

“Then, I'm…” Her mouth dropped open in astonishment. Her father had managed the impossible. “I truly
am
married to Jamie?” Dazed, she pulled off her cape, longing to run up the stair and hang it on a hook in Jamie's room, claiming a small corner of his world. “You are sure, Father, that Jamie and I are bound by God's law and man's as well?”

“Sit down, lass, for you look about to faint.” He gestured toward a chair, then folded his arms across his chest. “Almighty God sees that you are married for the moment, Leana; that much is true. As to man's opinion,
Jamie requested before he left for Dumfries that you be moved as far away from his bedroom as possible. He is my nephew, my guest, and my son-in-law. I could hardly refuse him. It seems he has a healthy fear of you, Leana. Is it any wonder?”

“But in Dumfries—”

“Och! You know as well as I do that those seven days were his punishment for not recognizing you in his bed. One week of forced husbandry, no better than a tup put to the ewes.” Her father eyed her, curiosity in his gaze. “Was it a…fruitful week?”

She lifted her chin, unwilling to give him any hint. “I wont know for a litde while.”

“See that you dont keep the news to yourself. Whatever the outcome, others’ lives will be greatly affected.”

“I know, Father.” She took a deep breath, fearing what his next answer might be. “Will I be permitted to attend kirk on the Sabbath?”

“Permitted?” He snorted. “Your presence will be
required
at both morning and afternoon services and a weekday sermon as well.”

The shadow of the repentance stool fell across her heart. “And will I be publicly—”

“Nae. Nothing so harsh as that. The kirk session was willing to overlook the irregularities, but not without some…ah, consequences. I assured the session that I would see that you and Jamie are disciplined here at home, as is my rightful duty.”

“Disciplined?” Her breath caught for a brief chilling moment. Discipline could mean anything, from hours spent reciting the Shorter Catechism to scrubbing out the scullery. She prayed her father would be merciful, even as she asked, “For how long?”

He shrugged. “For as long as it takes for you both to be sorry.”

“Sorry?” Leana clasped her hands, anxiety creeping along her limbs. “I could not be sorrier than I already am.” She could not speak for Jamie, but she was certain of her own remorse.

He poked his forefinger at the cover of the Buik. “God Almighty is the only one who knows the heart, wicked as it is. He alone will say when you two are sorry enough.”

Without thinking, she cried out, “Are you not sorry too, Father? For sending me to Jamie's room on his wedding night?”

His brow knit together in a dark line, like storm clouds moving in from the west. Thunder rumbled through his voice. “I did not send you, Leana. You walked into that room of your own accord.”

Beneath her skirts, her knees began to shake. She'd accused him, however foolishly, and he would demand that she prove herself or beg his forgiveness. “Father, you clearly said, ‘Do what you must.’ You
sent
me. You said, ‘It is Jamie, or it is no one,’ remember?” She bit her tongue to keep from adding an old proverb of Neda's:
Liars should have guid memories.

“Aye, I said those words. But you alone decided what ‘must’ be done.”

She pressed her hands to her knees, willing them to be still. “Father, you gave me litde choice. You wanted me in Jamie's bed, I know not why.”

He regarded her for a moment, as though weighing his words. When he spoke, his voice was cold and his words more so. “I will not lie to you, Daughter. I wanted you to marry Jamie. Don't pretend you did not want that as well.” She hung her head, stung by the truth, and he continued. “I wanted you off my hands and firmly placed in his so there would be no question of which woman he'd married, come morning. And I wanted some means of tying your cousin to Auchengray for another term of labor, for the lad is verra skilled, and his willingness to work without being paid in silver is…ah, difficult to resist.”

With Lachlan McBride, it always came down to what a thing cost.

Oh, Rose. You were right.

“But what of Jamie?” Leana's voice grew as thin as the wool on her great wheel, pulled taut by pain. “Have you not considered what he might want?”

Lachlan's shoulders did not shrug, but his words did. “What Jamie McKie wants is to marry your sister. Perhaps he might still get his wish. Unless you carry his child, which means Auchengray will be his someday.” He spread his hands out, as though the matter were finished. “The lad has no cause to complain.”

No cause to compUin.
Leana felt suddenly ill. “Where am I to sleep, then, if not with Jamie?” After Dumfries, might he be willing to change his mind? She would know soon enough. “Shall I sleep in my own bed with Rose?”

Lachlan scratched the back of his neck, avoiding her gaze. “Nae, Rose has declared you unfit company. Anger's a thirsty passion, they say. I fear you 11 be a long time regaining your sisters trust.” He gestured toward the door. “Willie's in the hall, waiting. He will show you to your new quarters.”

Quarters?

Eyes full of apology, Willie walked her up one staircase, then another, to a storage room under one of the third-floor eaves. The narrow space had been fitted with a low dresser and a
hurlie
bed, which trundled about on wheels, more suitable for a child than a grown woman. Willie explained, with much blushing and stammering, that her own bedroom—hers since she'd moved from the nursery fifteen years ago—now belonged to Rose.

“I'm sorry, lass.” Willie spread out his hands, the picture of helplessness. “When I moved yer things up here, yer sisters words to me were…well, I canna bear to repeat what she called you.”

She swallowed, tasting the cruel word in her mouth. “I think I know.”

Numb with shock, Leana sent Willie on his way, then unpacked her bag from Dumfries, moving with wooden gestures like a puppet on a string. She washed her face and hands in a plain porcelain bowl that sat in the dormer, glancing out the small window, its cracked panes stuffed with rags. With some difficulty she brushed her hair and pinned it up without a mirror to guide her, certain she looked exacdy as she felt: ugly and unkempt, no longer wanted by the people she knew and loved. And trusted.

Help me, Neda.

Neda would not put her aside, declaring her—how had Rose put it?—
unfit company.
Neda understood what it meant to forgive someone. But when Leana hastened down the stair to find the housekeeper, the dinner bell was already ringing, and Neda had her hands full in the kitchen. The housekeeper only had time for a compassionate gaze in her
direction before turning to attend to the meal. With a weary sigh, Leana let the kitchen door swing shut. She would seek out the older woman later for comfort and wise counsel.

Leana turned toward the dining room, her spirits lifted by the aroma of haddock in brown sauce, only to discover her place at the table had been moved. Jamie and Rose sat side by side, while she sat alone, some distance from them. Conversation would be difficult, by intent.

She took her place without a word, waiting for
someone
to notice her, beseeching each of them with a lengthy gaze, praying someone might simply look at her. Welcome her. Acknowledge her.

Please. Please see me.

None of them turned a head in her direction.

After Lachlan's solemn prayer, Leana poked at the haddock with her fork, unable to find the appetite for a single bite. Even the apples picked by her own hand and sliced into one of Nedas tasty pies did not tempt her at meals end. The others ate quiedy as well. Perhaps they stole glances at her, just as she did when their heads were bowed over their plates. The wedding was not mentioned, nor was Dumfries, nor the kirk session. It was as though none of it had ever taken place.