Fair Is the Rose (17 page)

“Is that what I do?” Rose sniffed, touching a handkerchief to her nose. “Then Auchengray will be thankful I’m gone. You especially.”

Jamie was at a loss to respond. He
was
thankful. Life would be easier without her, though he would never tell her so. Might he find some way to send her off with a smile? “Rose, you will be missed by all at Auchengray.”

Her dark eyes sought his. “Are you sure?”

Slowing the chaise as they approached the bridge, he gave her his full attention long enough to speak the truth. “You stole my heart, Rose, for a year and a day. It belongs to another now, but you will always be my beloved cousin.”

Despite the shimmer of tears, a smile bloomed on her bonny face. “Oh, Jamie. You always did know just the right thing to say.”

Eighteen

Love is the emblem of eternity:
it confounds all notion of time:
effaces all memory of a beginning, all fear of an end.

M
ADAME DE
S
TAEL

W
arm the bed for me, lass
. Leana shivered as the words unfurled inside her, wrapping a bright ribbon round her heart.
Warm the bed
. The last thing Jamie said before he left. Clever man, to put such a notion into her mind. She’d thought of little else since.

Later that evening Ian would be three months old to the hour. Jamie might not remember that, but she did, as well as the good and the bad that had followed. For three months she’d been a mother but not fully a wife. Ever mindful of the babe by their hearth and the sister in the next room, Leana had not attended to her womanly duties. Out of sheer exhaustion. And a modicum of fear. Fear that he might no longer find her desirable. Fear that he never had.

Now it seemed her fears were grounded in falsehood. ’Twas not a warming pan or a heated brick Jamie wanted in his bed that night. ’Twas her, Leana McKie. He’d said so.
Warm the bed
.

Hours would pass before he returned home, so she took advantage of the last rays of afternoon light and immersed herself in a new sewing project, hoping it might distract her. She curled up in the window seat of her second-floor sewing room, with Ian napping in the cradle at her feet, and plunged a freshly threaded needle into fine cambric. But since it was a sark for Jamie, it hardly took her mind off the man. She soon imagined his long arms filling the sleeves and his strong shoulders straining the seams, and—

“Leana!” Neda’s head poked in the doorway.

She was so startled she stabbed herself hard enough to draw blood.
“
Och!
” Pressing her fingertip between her lips to stanch the bleeding, she looked up at Neda, sensing her pale cheeks blooming with color.

“Lass, are ye expectin’ Jamie for supper or later than that?”

She pulled away her finger with a smack. “He did not mention his supper. Only his bed.” Now she
knew
her face was red, because Neda was laughing, a great cackling sound.

“He mentioned that, did he? Guid for Jamie.” Neda pressed a hand to her chest as her laughter subsided to a chuckle. “ ’Tis a new year, lass. Yer sister has flitted tae Dumfries, aye? Though I love the girl like me own, ’Tis best she’s gone for a season. Ye and yer man need tae begin again.
Spleet-new
.”

Leana could not dispute the wisdom of her advice. A blank calendar of days lay open before them. If ever there was a time to script a new life across its pristine pages, that time was now. Beginning tonight when Jamie walked through Auchengray’s doors.

“Neda,” she said softly, “can you help me? I almost don’t know where to start.”

The housekeeper perched on Rose’s carding stool. “Suppose Duncan and I kidnap Ian for a few hours tonight. Ye fill the babe wi’ yer guid milk first, then let yer auld Neda walk the floor wi’ him ’til ye’re ready tae claim him again.” She grinned. “Nae need tae be hasty.”

Leana watched the babe stirring in his cradle and could not keep from smiling. “Aye. Nine o’ the clock. Jamie should be home by then.” She looked up and winked at Neda. “I’ll have to see to my husband’s supper as well.”

“Och! Soon as the lad hears what ye’ve planned for him, he’ll swallow his mutton pie whole.”

When Lachlan rang the supper bell at seven, Jamie had not yet appeared. Neda’s mutton pies were served and eaten, though she set two aside for Jamie, should he arrive hungry. Family worship filled out the hour before Leana did as she was told, nursing Ian until his round body could hold no more, then bathing them both until mother and son smelled sweet as dried lavender.

Neda gathered the child in her arms, tucking his head under her
well-padded chin. “We’re off tae the third floor. Knock whan it suits ye and not a minute sooner.”

Feeling at loose ends without Ian to care for, Leana brushed her hair with long strokes, taking deep breaths to match, calming her spirit. She and Jamie would begin again. Aye, spleet-new. She tarried near their bedroom window, listening for the jingle of Bess’s harness. When at last she heard it and saw the lantern light bobbing along the drive, Leana flew like the wind down the stair and out the front door, not caring if she wore no cloak, not caring that it was the dead of winter. Her hair streamed behind her. Her arms stretched forward, bidding him come. “Jamie!”

He pulled the chaise to an abrupt stop and leaped to the ground, scaring Bess, who backed up a step and whinnied, scolding him. He hardly noticed, leaving Willie to attend to the mare while he headed across the frozen lawn toward his wife, walking at first. Then running. “Leana!”

His arms were round her before he finished saying her name. The fierceness of his embrace lifted her off the ground. When his mouth found hers, she buried her hands in his hair and held him there. She’d forgotten how wonderful his kisses were. She would not forget again.
Jamie, Jamie
. After long moments her feet touched the ground, but just barely.

Jamie’s voice was rough. “ ’Tis good to be home, Leana.” He circled his arm round her waist, holding her tight against his side as he drew her toward the gaping front door.

She looked up, asking what had to be asked. “Did all go well with Rose?”

When his gaze met hers, she had her answer. “Your sister is where she belongs, Leana. And so are we.” As they approached the threshold, Jamie paused long enough to slip his other arm behind her knees and sweep her off the ground.

“Jamie!” She gasped and threw her arms round his neck, fearing she might tumble to the ground. But he held her fast.

“I’m a year and a day late, lass.” He kissed her again, gently this time, and carried her through the entranceway. “Welcome home, my bride.”

A cluster of servants stood in the hall, their eyes as wide open as the door. Eliza was the first to curtsy. “Mr. McKie, there are mutton pies waiting in the kitchen.”

“Guid.” Jamie strode past with Leana clinging to his shoulders, bound for the stair. “I’ll have them for breakfast.”

Leana did not remember breakfast. She only remembered all that came before it, and when she remembered those sacred hours, her heart nearly burst with joy.

“ ’Tis a blissin tae see ye sae blithe.” Neda slipped a knuckle under Leana’s chin before the lass had a chance to hide her embarrassment. “Ye as weel, Mr. McKie.”

“Aye.” Jamie grinned, concealing nothing.

All three of them stood in the front parlor, where Ian was being introduced to his new crib. Fashioned by Willie from a fallen oak on Auchengray land, it was a clever bit of carpentry—neither so low that Ian could climb out later, nor so high that he’d get hurt if he tumbled out. Leana lowered the child into his sturdy bed, lined with a woolen mattress, and was relieved when he did not fuss at his new surroundings.

Neda’s coppery head bent over the crib. “Now then, look at our guid boy, smilin’ up at his mither and faither from his new bed,” she cooed. After a moment of play, Neda gathered his soiled linens and turned toward the door to the hall. “He’s all yers, dearies, for I’ve a house tae manage. Take yer time gettin’ tae the sheep, Jamie. Duncan says he can handle things this mornin’.”

“Bless you, Neda,” he called after her. “For everything.” Jamie crouched down and offered his hand to Ian. A look of wonder came over his face as the babe grasped one of his thick fingers and shook it like a rattle. “What a grip the lad has!”

“Aye, he’s strong,” Leana agreed. “Like his father.”

Jamie looked over his shoulder at her, warming her with his steady gaze. “Nae, ’Tis his mother’s strength I see. For it seems the lad will not let go, no matter how foolishly I try to pull away.”

Leana pressed her lips tight, holding back the tears that seemed ever
present of late. “Holding on was all that I could do, Jamie. And all I wanted to do.”

“I’m grateful, lass. More than I can say.” He eased his finger free from Ian’s tight clasp and rubbed the boy’s stomach before rising to his feet to look at her. Jamie’s eyes were a bit bleary from their short night, but his smile was as potent as ever. “Now that I have my hands back, let me put them to good use.” He cradled her face and drew her to him, tipping her head back, planting kisses where he pleased until he landed on her mouth, where he lingered long.

When at last they eased apart, Jamie looked down at their son, happy in his new crib. “You’re a lucky boy to have such a good mother. And I am a blessed man to have such a fine wife.”

I love you, Jamie
. She could no longer bring herself to say it aloud. The risk was too great. Instead she whispered, “Thank you,” and took his hand, squeezing it.

He lifted her hand to his mouth and tenderly kissed her fingers. “You have waited much too long to hear this. But I could not say it until it was true, until it meant something.” He paused, perhaps to be certain she was listening.

Her heart stood on tiptoe.

“I love you, Leana.”

Oh, Jamie
. She could not speak. Joy flooded through her. And with that joy came the words she longed to say. “I love you, Jamie. I will always love you.”

“You always have, Leana.” He kissed her again, then said in a low voice, “ ’Tis forever to my shame that it’s taken me so long to return it.”

She shook her head, blinking away tears. “Shame is not forever, Jamie. But this is.” She pressed his hand to her heart. “Love is the banner that hangs over the gates of eternity. Not shame, Jamie. Love.”

“Aye.” He leaned back for a moment, studying her. “Leana, I will not have you thinking this is because of what happened last night.”

Her whole body sighed with relief. ’Twas precisely what she’d feared. “How well you ken me, Jamie.”

“Aye, so I do.” A grin flickered across his face, then he grew serious again. “You deserve more from me than a night’s passion and idle words
easily forgotten. ’Tis respect that you deserve. And so you shall have it. The Buik commands us, ‘Let us not love in word, neither in tongue; but in deed and in truth.’ Tell me, Leana. How may I prove myself?”

She responded at once. “Love our son.”

“Och!” His features softened. “ ’Tis already done. The lad ran off with my heart the night he was born. Three months and a day, aye?”

He remembered
. Patting her cheeks dry, Leana turned to Ian. “Do you hear that, sweet boy? Your father loves us both!”
God be praised
.

Jamie was as good as his word. All that week his genuine regard for her showed in his eyes, in his actions, in his words. He touched her cheek in passing. He complimented her gown, even though he’d seen it many times before. He brought home small gifts when errands sent him to the village—silk ribbons for her hair, a doeskin ball for Ian. Jamie’s love enveloped his wife and son like a thick plaid, comforting them, protecting them.

Up the stair and down, the servants sensed a change at Auchengray. The dour atmosphere that Lachlan sustained with scowls and severe pronouncements gave way to laughter in the scullery and a lightness in the hall. Even the harsh winds and bitter cold of January could not dampen the blithe spirit that fell upon the household. Leana, who’d learned to live without hope, now embraced it with both arms. Jamie loved her, truly loved her, in word and in deed.

Thursday evening the three of them sat beside the hearth after family worship. Ian was livelier than usual at that hour, so they delayed tucking him into his crib and let him roll about on a blanket by the warm peat fire. Leana caressed the child’s bare feet, enjoying the feel of his tiny toes. “Let us see, Mr. James McKie, if your mother taught you properly as a child.” She held Ian’s big toe between two fingers. “This is the man that
brak
the barn.” Wiggling the next toe, she continued, “This is the man that stole the corn.” She looked up. “Your turn, Jamie.”

He gamely grabbed the child’s third toe, which disappeared beneath his thick thumb. “This is the man that stood and saw.” He moved to the next toe. “This is the man that ran awa.” Leana joined him in pinching
Ian’s tiny little toe, while the child squealed with delight. “And wee
Peerie-Winkie
paid for a’!” Jamie’s deep laugh rolled across the slate floor. “You’ve not one foot but two, Ian McKie. Suppose we start on the other.” He looked up at her then, his features lit by the firelight, his eyes glowing with affection. “What say you, Leana?”

She smiled, too happy to think. “I love you, Jamie. That’s what I say.”

“D’ye hear that, laddie?” Jamie made a comical face, to Ian’s amazement. “Yer mither luves me! And ye ken a
saicret?
I luve the lass too.” He tickled Ian’s feet with his rough beard, then kissed Leana soundly, tickling her skin just the same.

Nineteen

Standing with reluctant feet
Where the brook and river meet,
Womanhood and childhood fleet!

H
ENRY
W
ADSWORTH
L
ONGFELLOW

I
do not consider that ‘standing,’ Miss McBride. ’Tis more properly called ‘slouching.’
Levez-vous, s’il vous plaît
. Stand up, if you please.”

Etta Carlyle held court amid a circle of young women, her own posture that of a British soldier of superior rank. The thin carpet beneath Rose’s feet offered little warmth, nor did the coal fire in the hearth. A pine mantel was one of the room’s few adornments. Two uncurtained windows facing Millbrae Vennel ushered in the meager winter light, barely dispelling the general gloominess of the square, high-ceilinged room that smelled of tallow. ’Twas a tidy enough place but decidedly grim. Rather like the schoolmistress.