Sleepless in Scotland (19 page)

Damn it all, something was lacking from Hugh’s argument, but he couldn’t quite put a finger on it. Dougal finally shrugged. “You’ll do as you think best.”

“Yes, I will.” Hugh tamped down his irritation. Dougal was trying to help, however misguided his attempt. There were times when it was onerous to have so many family members living so close by.

A soft knock sounded on the door, and Caitriona entered, her cheeks pink from her journey to town, her dark gold hair wisping about her cheeks from pulling off her bonnet.

Dougal rose from his chair, and Caitriona’s eyes widened behind her spectacles. “I beg your pardon. I didn’t mean to intrude.”

“You didn’t intrude,” Hugh said, and introduced them to one another.

Dougal bowed with his customary grace. “A pleasure to meet you. Welcome to the family.”

She dipped a curtsey. “Thank you.” Her gaze went to Dougal’s gold hair, and she slanted a questioning glance at Hugh, who grinned.

“I know, he looks nothing like me.”

“Actually, except for his hair, he looks
exactly
like you.”

Dougal chuckled. “We may look alike, but I am definitely the better dresser. If you can get my loutish brother to improve his wardrobe, the entire family will be forever in your debt.”

Caitriona’s eyes twinkled. “I will see what can be done.”

“Isn’t it time you were leaving?” Hugh asked his brother pointedly.

“I suppose so.” Dougal smoothed his sleeve, watching his new sister-in-law from beneath his lashes. She was not at all Hugh’s usual sort. She was quite tall, and a bit plump, too. But her hair was shiny and dark gold, her skin milky white, her lips plump and red, and her eyes were an amazing shade of hazel behind those spectacles. Best of all, her expression spoke of calm good sense and a great deal of spirit. This was not a woman to be trifled with.

Dougal smiled. He had the feeling it would be an interesting few months. He took his sister-in-law’s hand and pressed a kiss to her fingers. “I must take my leave of you now, but I shall return soon and tell you all of the family secrets.”

She laughed and curtsied, rather liking this suave member of the MacLean family. “I’ll have pen and ink ready to take notes. I’m sorry you must go. Do you live nearby?”

“Less than a mile down the road. My wife, Sophia, is in Edinburgh this week with her father, but will be most happy to receive you once she returns.”

“So you are alone in your house? You must come to dinner! Hugh, tell him he must come.”

Hugh snorted. “I will do no such thing. He comes to visit me far too often as it is.”

Dougal grinned. “I shall return for dinner. Thank you, my lady.” He bowed and headed for the door.

The door closed behind him.

His expression inscrutable, Hugh said, “Caitriona, I should have told you about the girls sooner. It was just awkward and I…” He grimaced. “I am truly sorry.”

Triona hadn’t expected that. After a moment, she said calmly, “I can imagine it would be a difficult topic to work into a conversation, especially as we’ve had so few.”

“I was just making my grand announcement when they arrived home sooner than I expected.” He hesitated. “I should have told you much earlier, but I wanted to wait until we were here, where we had some privacy and you weren’t so exhausted. It’s a lot to take in.”

She gave him a cool look. “If you’d told me you had daughters, I would simply have asked to meet them.”

His dark gaze remained locked on her for a long moment. Then, with a stiff bow, he said, “As I said, I’m sorry. There will be no more secrets between us.”

“Thank you. I can see we need to spend more time getting to know one another. We lack trust, and that is lamentable.”

“If it will help us avoid more difficult moments, I’m quite willing to do so. In fact—” He stepped forward and took her hand, his fingers warm over hers, and led her to the soft settee. Then he grabbed a nearby chair, placed it in front of her, and sat down, his knees almost brushing hers. “We should finish the conversation that was so abruptly interrupted this morning.”

“I would rather talk about the girls. I don’t know anything about them.”

“They are my daughters. What more do you need to know?”

Triona placed her hands on her knees and leaned forward. “MacLean, if this is your idea of a conversation, then we’re going to have many, many difficult moments.”

He looked disposed to argue, but after a moment he sighed. “What do you wish to know?”

“Whatever you can tell me. They’re lovely girls. I thought they were very well behaved at breakfast, though quiet.”

“They were surprised.”

“As was I. I’m sure that once they become used to having me about, they will warm to me. As their stepmother, I’ll try to—”

“No.”

She frowned. “No,
what
?”

“I don’t consider you their stepmother. I’m very sure they wouldn’t want that, either.”

“But—”

“Our marriage is unusual.”

“So? What does that have to do with the children?”

“With
my
children.”

Her heart sank. It felt as if she stood in front of a huge door, but had no key. How could she get inside?

Worse, another thought reared its ugly head. MacLean had had three children over a number of years, and all had the same mother. He must have cared for this woman. There was only one way to find out. “Did you love her?”

His brows snapped down. “Did I love—oh. Their mother. I once thought I did, but no more.”

His answer was so quick and natural that Triona relaxed. “I see. Is she…is she still alive?”

“Yes.” He spat the answer. “When I was a callow youth, I was captivated by her. But she is not a good woman. For years, the girls lived with Clarissa. As her life disintegrated, so did theirs. Until they came to live with me a year ago, they didn’t know the meaning of the word ‘home.’ They’d never had one.”

How difficult that must have been for them! Triona tried to imagine how her life would be without the familiar comfort of the vicarage, and couldn’t. “Perhaps I can help—”

“No.”

She blinked at the harshness of his voice.

“Caitriona, you won’t be staying more than a few months.”

“Yes, but—”

“There are no ‘buts.’ It would make more sense—and be easier on the girls—if you kept your distance. I don’t wish them to be upset when you leave.”

Every word he said shut her out even more. This morning, she’d thought their lovemaking had signified something, that they were beginning life together as a couple, even if only for a few months’ duration. Now she realized that what happened in the bedchamber was not necessarily reflected out of it.

Still, she couldn’t fault him for wanting to protect his children. Though a sense of loneliness settled about her, she managed to say, “The children come first, of course.”

“Thank you.” He leaned back in his chair, some of the determination leaving his face. “It shouldn’t be too difficult. You will see the girls at meals, but they will be with their governess and tutor most of the morning, and with me most of each afternoon.”

She looked down at her hands, clasped in her lap. “Where is the girls’ mother now?”

His gaze shuttered and white lines appeared down each side of his mouth. “You are determined to know it all, are you? I don’t see how this will help, but her name is Clarissa Beaufort. She is the daughter of an obscure Irish baron. She is astonishingly beautiful; Devon will look just like her, I think. Clarissa was her father’s only child and he raised her to think she was better than anyone, though the truth is far different. She uses her beauty to—” His lip curled, and it was with obvious difficulty that he continued, “No matter how horrid her behavior, or how inexcusable her actions, men flock to her in droves, and she welcomes them all.”

“I see,” Triona said softly.

“Years ago, Clarissa was launched into London society to great fanfare. She was courted by dukes, earls, even princes—at some time or another, every eligible man in London sat at her feet. That’s when I met her. I thought we were…” He shook his head. “Needless to say, I was wrong.”

“You cared and she didn’t.”

“I cared as much as a callow youth of eighteen can. Meanwhile, her father was ecstatic over her success and imagined her marriage would make the family’s fortune. He didn’t realize that Clarissa had no intention of marrying anyone; she was addicted to attention. As soon as she’d won one man’s affections, she was off to the next. I was merely part of her court—a foolish boy whom she no doubt scoffed at, though I was too young to realize it. Fortunately, before I’d made too much of a fool of myself, I realized which way the wind blew and left town. A week later, she was caught with a footman in her carriage, and neither were clothed.”

“Oh!”

“Worse, she was caught by the Duke of Richmond, who had come to propose. He told the world, and she was shunned. Her father was devastated and threw her out into the street. I don’t believe he ever spoke to her again.”

“What happened to her?”

“Oh, don’t feel sorry for her; she always manages to land on her feet. She took up with a wealthy older man. When she’d used him up, she found another. And another.”

“At least she was consistent,” Triona said dryly.

MacLean managed a faint smile. “She was. But she chose a horrible, degrading way of life, and took the girls with her. They have been through—” His voice broke and he turned away, his eyes suspiciously bright. “They have been through enough.”

Triona tucked away her own hurt. This situation was obviously deeper and far more complex than she’d realized. “You love your daughters, and they obviously love you. That’s all I really need to know.”

“Then you will do as I ask, and leave them be as much as possible?”

Triona thought of her parents’ warm regard, of the teasing affection of her brothers and sisters, and her throat tightened. “I will do what I can.”

The entire situation added to the swell of loneliness she’d been battling all morning. Suddenly, Gilmerton Manor seemed large and echoingly empty.

Some of her feelings must have shown, for Hugh leaned forward and took her hand in his large one. “You will have plenty to keep you occupied. Mrs. Wallis can instruct you in how things have been done, and I’ve no doubt you’ll bring massive improvements to the place.”

Which was something a normal wife
would
do. But a normal wife would also be welcome in all areas of her new household, not just the linen closet. Still, it was a beginning, a foothold on the first slope of a very tall mountain.

Fortunately for all concerned, Triona was very, very good at accomplishing tasks, even mountainous ones. While she was glad to spend some time organizing the staff and making the house run as efficiently as possible, she had another goal as well. She wanted her time here at Gilmerton to have value. When the time came to leave, she wanted to have been important enough that Hugh, at least, would miss her.

She regarded him from beneath her lashes. Could she engage his interest enough? It seemed a fair challenge, and heaven knew she needed something to occupy her so she didn’t grow dismally homesick. The only real connection she had with this intriguing man had been between the sheets this morning. That, and the moments immediately afterward, had left her feeling close to him.

She couldn’t allow him to regulate her out of all of the important affairs of the household, and yet neither did she feel that she could demand that right. It was obvious he loved his daughters very much and she could hardly fault him for such praiseworthy emotion. She’d have to earn his trust, win him over through her efforts,
prove
herself. Father had always said one action was worth a thousand words.

She smoothed her skirt over her knees. “I will do as you ask and remain aloof from the girls as much as possible, but I want a promise from you in return.”

He frowned. “What’s that?”

“I want us to continue to…” Her cheeks heated and she finished in a hurried voice, “Do what we did this morning.”

A gleam entered his eyes and a slow smile curled across his face. “Ah, this morning. Yes.”

“Yes?”

He laughed. “I should have said ‘Of course!’” He stood and placed a finger under her chin, tilting her face to his, then bent close, his breath brushing sweetly over her lips. Triona closed her eyes for his kiss, eager to be swept away. Instead, he moved and whispered in her ear, “You will never lack for more of ‘this morning.’” He rubbed his cheek to hers. “I promise.”

Heat flooded through her and she instinctively leaned toward him, but he was already straightening.

He winked. “I will return for dinner, and we will resume our conversation then. Who knows?” He flashed a wicked grin. “We might even have some ‘this morning’ this very evening.”

“You can do that?”

His laugh wrapped around her, and for a moment she forgot she was in a strange new house, filled with people from whom she was to maintain a distance, and servants she barely knew. Instead, for one warm, wonderful moment, it was the two of them, both smiling. It brought back instant memories of this morning, of the intimacy of lying in his arms, their bare legs entwined as their hearts slowed to a normal rhythm.

Oh, how she would like to savor that moment again! Her body tingled as a low thrum of excitement washed over her. She smiled back at him. “I shall look forward to it.”

His eyes glinted, and for an instant, she thought he might pull her to him for a passionate kiss, but he turned toward the door. “I need to see to the horses. If you need anything, ask the housekeeper; I’ve left instructions you are to be granted whatever you wish.”

“Thank you, but…when will you be back?”

He tossed her a warm glance. “As soon as I can.”

“It’s very difficult to plan dinner when you give out times like that.”

He laughed and opened the door. “Very well, wife. I’ll be home by six.”

He left, closing the door behind him. She heard him collect his coat from the footman, followed by the swing of the front door as it opened. His riding boots marked his stride down the marble steps.