Three Little Secrets (27 page)

She settled back in her chair. “Aye, some,” she said.

Madeleine looked at the old woman sorrowfully. She had spent many hours of her long trip north remembering Geoff’s childhood. His outbursts. His seemingly irrational fears. The strange things he would sometimes say. She did not like Merrick’s analysis, but she very much feared he might be right. And as foreign as the concept was to her, it was the only thing which fully explained the past.

“This is a painful notion to me, Lady Annis,” she said. “This idea that my child…that my child is not like other children. But Merrick tells me that this is so. And I must begin to believe him.”

The old lady reached forward and laid a gnarled hand on Madeleine’s wrist. “You child is a child like any other in all other ways,” she said, and for the first time there was reassurance in her voice. “Be verra sure of that, my dear.”

Madeleine nodded weakly. “What happens to Geoff when he feels this…this thing?”

The old lady began to tap the chair arm again. “’Tis an opening of the mind,” she answered. “Sometimes deliberate, often accidental. But the manifestation of the gift can take many forms. Dreams which foreshow the future are prodigious common; more of us ha’ them than no. Often, however, we do na’ recall them, or the symbolism within escapes us.”

Madeleine was shaking her head. “Geoff’s situation is more extreme than mere dreams,” she said. “And he seems to fear that his visions
cause
things to happen.”

Slowly, Lady Annis nodded. “Aye, the lad’s mind is strong, but he hasna control of it,” she said. “For him, ’tis as if someone is drawing a curtain, then snapping it shut again, making him feel as though he has little control of his thoughts.”

“But
can
one control such thoughts?”

“Oh, aye,” she answered. “Most learn, and Geoff will, too. He shall remain here at Kerr for a time, will he no’?”

Madeleine looked at Merrick uncertainly. “Yes,” she said. “Yes, I daresay he shall.”

The old lady looked pleased. “I will help him,” she said. “Ye needn’t trooble yourself further o’er it, my dear.”

The remark should have sounded presumptuous, but it did not. Instead, it sounded oddly reassuring. Madeleine wondered if she was losing her mind, if this mystical old place was somehow affecting her judgment. But for the first time, she felt the faintest stirrings of hope.

“May I ask, Lady Annis, how you broached this subject with Geoffrey?”

Again, the regal tilt of the head. “I asked the lad if he knew why my grandson had brought him here,” she said. “He said he didna know, sae I told him, and plainly.”

Madeleine felt a flash of alarm. It must have sketched across her face.

“Och, I didna tell him of his parentage,” said the old woman. “That secret’s no’ my burden, ’tis yours”—here, she paused to nod toward Merrick—“and
yours.
”

Madeleine said nothing.

Again, the old woman leaned forward in her chair, her hands clutching at the carved talons. “And I’ll tell ye plainly, the both o’ you, that there’s aboot three too many secrets in this business tae suit me,” she said warningly. “Not just Geoff’s, but the secrets the two of you are keeping fra’ one anither in your prideful hearts.”

Madeleine dropped her gaze. “It is only Geoffrey who need concern us now,” she said quietly. “I wish to do what is right for him.”

“Oh, I think ye ken what’s right, my dear,” she said, her voice stern. “And I think ye’ll do it, too.”

Merrick unfolded his arms and came forward. “Enough, Granny,” he said quietly. “Madeleine and I have agreed between us what’s best done for the nonce.”

The old woman’s eyes flared with irritation. “Aye, and when did a nonce become thirteen years?” she snapped. “What’s best done, laddie, is for the two o’ you tae do your duty as husband and wife and neaten up this soss that’s been made o’ your marriage, and do wha’ is right by that child. Had ye done so at the outset, he’d likely no’ be in sae sair a shape.”

Merrick’s visage darkened. “There were intervening circumstances.”

“Nay, there was overweening pride!” snapped his grandmother. “I’ll say this but once, laddie—a man’s wife is his property and his duty. And should anither dare tae take her fra’ him, he goes after her, and he takes her back again. There’s a boat goes off to Italy every day o’ the week from somewhere, aye?”

Madeleine was still gaping when the old lady turned on her. “And as for you, if ye are old enough tae stand up before God and speak your vows, then ye are old enough tae keep them,” she said. “Ye cleave only untae your husband, and niver mind wha’ anyone else has tae say in the matter.”

“Life is not so easy, Grandmother, as you would make it out,” said Merrick coldly.

“Oh, aye,” she said mordantly. “’Tis a
sair fecht!”

Madeleine looked at Merrick. “I—I don’t understand,” she said. “What is she saying?”

“That it is a hard life,” answered Merrick. “But I believe she is being sarcastic.”

“Aye, tae be sure!” grumbled his grandmother. “For I was wed at sixteen, and I knew my duty, and I did it.”

Madeleine looked down to see that her hands were shaking. Swiftly, she set them against her lap. The old woman spoke harshly, but the truth was, Madeleine was no longer sure she spoke wrongly. Perhaps it really
was
just that simple. You did your duty.

Merrick apparently did not think it was simple. He pushed away from the mantel, and went to Madeleine’s chair. “Lady Bessett will wish a moment with her son before he goes to bed,” he said coolly. “I will show her back down to the billeting hall now.”

Relief swept over Madeleine. She stood. “I realize, Lady Annis, that Merrick and I have made mistakes,” she said quietly. “But life has gone on, and…and things have changed. Neither of us meant to do ill by our child.”

Lady Annis looked up at her a little wearily. “Och, I am sure ye dinna!” she agreed. Her eyes fell fleetingly on her grandson, and a look of resignation passed over her face. “Just send the lad tae me each forenoon,” she added. “Tell anyone who asks why that I’m tae teach him the Gaelic—which I may weel do, since nither of my grandsons have deigned tae learn it.”

At that, Merrick relented. His expression softened, and he leaned forward to kiss his grandmother’s parchment cheek. “Good night, Granny,” he said quietly. “We thank you for your willingness to help Geoff.”

“There’s naucht to thank me for,” said Lady Annis. “He is my blood. He is my duty.”

Once they had escaped the dragon’s lair, Madeleine followed Merrick back down the steps. He moved down the twisting stairs with a catlike grace, his wide shoulders limned with light from the wall sconces which burned at each turn. Neither of them spoke until they reached the foot of the stairs. He turned and offered his hand to help her down the last.

For a moment, his eyes searched her face. “My grandmother is a tad tongue-betroosht,” he finally said. “I hope, Maddie, that she did not offend you.”

Maddie.
Oh, she wished he would not call her that!

“She said little that was not true,” Madeleine managed to answer.

“Aye,” he said a little sadly. “Perhaps not.”

The walked together to the drawing room, neither speaking. Lady Annis, it seemed, had said enough for a lifetime. Inside the drawing room, the card game was breaking up amidst much laugher. It seemed that Sir Alasdair, a once-notorious gambler, had been soundly trounced by his young wife and his new nephew.

“Ah, my salad days are well and truly over,” he complained. “Thrashed by a pair of neophytes!”

With a muted smile, his wife linked her arm through his. “I fear your salad days were over a decade past, my love,” she said, “had you but acknowledged it.”

Sir Alasdair responded with a wince. “Oh, the cruelty of youth!” he said. “I believe it is time to put this decrepit old man to bed.”

Together, Madeleine and Geoff said their good-nights, and went up to his bedchamber. Madeleine drew the draperies, then helped him unpack his nightshirt and brushes. “Did you enjoy your visit with Lady Annis?” she asked lightly.

Geoff flung himself across the bed and dragged an arm over his eyes. “Sort of,” he said.

Madeleine sat down beside him and pulled his arm away. “Is my son hiding under there somewhere?” she asked lightly. “Ah, yes! There he is.”

“Oh, Mamma!” he said as if embarrassed. “That is so silly.”

She tweaked his chin. “Look at me, Geoff, and quit complaining,” she ordered. “Did you like her?”

He nodded, his hair scrubbing on the woolen counterpane.

Madeleine was quiet for a moment. “How did it go?” she asked. “Did you…learn anything interesting? Did she say anything untoward?”

He shook his head. “She likes me,” he said. “We talked about…about things.”

“Do you feel better?” she asked hopefully.

“I guess so.”

Madeleine squeezed his hand. “I also met with Lady, Annis tonight,” she finally said. “I went upstairs whilst you played cards. She wanted to speak with me.”

His eyes widened.

Madeleine smiled. “I liked her very much, too. We had a long talk. And…well, she told me. Everything, Geoff. About you, I mean.”

At that, Geoff looked away. His eyes blinked rapidly.

Madeleine slipped her hand into his. “It is all right, Geoff,” she said quietly. “You…you are special.”

“I do not want to be special, Mamma,” he whispered. “I want to be ordinary.”

She tightened her grip on his hand. “No, Geoff, I don’t think you do,” she answered. “You are different for a reason. You have a destiny. I am sure of it. Besides, here in Scotland, with your—your—well, with these people—you are…not so different.”

He returned his gaze to hers, and held her eyes for a moment as if trying to read her thoughts. Perhaps, in a way, he was. “I am like Lady Annis, aren’t I?” he asked, his voice a little hollow. “I have…the gift. That’s why we came here, isn’t it?”

Madeleine nodded. “You have the gift,” she agreed. “And you need not hide it from me, Geoff, ever again, all right? I will always love you, and I will always be your mamma. You can talk to me when you are worried. Or you can talk to Lady Annis. Or…or to Mr. MacLachlan, of course.”

The boy said nothing but watched her a little warily.

“Geoff,” she began. But then her voice faltered. “Geoff, I…I have a secret, too.”

“I know,” he said quietly.

For a moment, she wondered if the old lady had lied to her. “Did Lady Annis tell you, Geoff?”

He looked at her a little scornfully. “I do not know, Mamma, what your secret
is
,” he said. “Only that you are keeping one. And that it is something to do with me. Lady Annis didn’t have to tell me that. I have known it for a long time. Is it…is it something bad about me, Mamma?”

She gave a sharp, almost hysterical laugh. She was still clutching his hand. “Oh, dear,” she said. “Is that one of the things that has been troubling you?”

He nodded slowly, then said, “Yes, and now you are cutting my blood off, Mamma. Perhaps you should just let go of my hand, and tell me your secret?”

Madeleine was shocked to realize that a tear had rolled down her cheek. “Should I?” she asked, dashing it away with the back of her hand. “Yes, I daresay I ought.”

Geoff looked at her solemnly. “I will be thirteen next year, Mamma,” he said quietly. “There are things a boy should know. That’s what Mr. Frost says.”

“And he is eminently wise,” Madeleine agreed. “But this is something you should have known from the moment you were born, and yet you did not, and it is my fault. Because the truth is, Geoff, that my secret is about your father.”

“About Bessett?” he asked softly.

She shook her head. “No, my love,” she answered. “No, Bessett was a very kind man in his way, and he loved you very much, though perhaps he did not always show it. But…well, Bessett was not your father.”

“Not…my father?” Clearly, this had not crossed his mind.

“No, Geoff, he is not.” Madeleine steeled herself for the rest of the story. “You see, I was married to someone else before. I was married to—well, to Mr. MacLachlan. He was once my husband. And he is your father.”

The child’s eyes had grown round. He said nothing, which made it all the worse.

Madeleine snuffled back tears. “Oh, Geoff, you cannot know how this makes me feel!” she cried. “I have both wanted to tell you, and dreaded telling you. And even now…oh, even now, my love, this must be our secret. Can you ever forgive me?”

At last, a look of relief passed over Geoff’s face. “Mr. MacLachlan,” he mused. “And—And he knows, does he not? That is also why we’ve come here. To Castle Kerr.”

Madeleine leaned forward to kiss his cheek. “Yes, darling, that is why,” she said. “Because Lady Annis is your great-grandmother. You share a special bond with her, and you needed to know that. She will be helping you in ways which I cannot, and even Mr.—well, your father cannot. That is why we will be staying here for a while.”

Geoff had grown very quiet. “Mamma, I don’t think you did anything that needs forgiveness,” he said. “But…but is Alvin not my brother anymore?”

Madeleine stroked the dark hair back from his forehead. “You are Alvin’s brother of the heart,” she said. “And that is what matters most of all.”

Geoff’s face wrinkled up as if he were thinking.

Dear God,
she silent prayed.
Help me answer the hard question.

“I do not understand, Mamma,” he said. “If Mr. MacLachlan was your husband, how come he isn’t anymore?”

Madeleine stopped sniffling, and set her shoulders firmly back. “I think, Geoff, that it is because I made a terrible mistake,” she confessed. “A long time ago, before you were born, I…I let other people persuade me wrongly.”

“What other people?”

Fleetingly, Madeleine closed her eyes. Even now, it was difficult to speak ill of her father. “Other people in my family,” she said vaguely. “I was young, and weak-willed, and so I let them convince me that he—that your father—did not love me, and that I would be better off apart from him. May we leave it at that for now? I promise we will talk about it again when you are older.”

“All right,” said Geoff. He pulled himself up into a seated position. “Mamma, does Mr. MacLachlan think that I am peculiar? Will he wish that I was…well, normal?”