Wedgewick Woman (21 page)

Chapter
31

Annabel stayed for another two weeks.  They had been the most difficult two weeks of her life.  Phoebe had taken over Eleanor’s care.  She had assisted, but as each day went by she realized Eleanor was becoming more independent and accustomed to her surroundings.  She’d even begun calling the Laird, papa, when he came in each night to tuck her into her crib.

If anything, she knew when it was time to leave.  And it was time. 

“Cork?  Are you about?”  She called into the kitchen. 

“He’s out in the courtyard.  The Laird is teaching him to ride Knight.” Mrs. Calvert said smiling at her Laird’s kindness.  “Eleanor is out there, too.”

“What?”  Annabel rushed out to the courtyard.  The day was sunny, but oh so very cold.

She hid behind the wall and watched.  Cork was sitting atop the Laird’s stallion with little Eleanor sitting in front of him.  The Laird was leading his big powerful horse, docile and easy, through a series of slow circles and turns.

Annabel’s hand went to her mouth and she smiled.  Her heart lurched for Cork and for Eleanor.  They were in good hands.  For all the brashness and loudness of this man, he was handsome beyond belief and kind-hearted.  What had she been thinking to turn down his proposal of marriage? She wondered.  Then remembered.  He didn’t love her.  Because her name was Wedgewick, he would never love her. 

Annabel caught sight of Ross who held out his arms and brought Eleanor off the horse.  She giggled when he threw her into the air and caught her expertly.  Annabel knew he was a grandfather and knew Eleanor would be safe here in this castle with the people she belonged to.  That was reward enough, she decided and stayed for awhile longer as the Laird led Knight at a quicker pace, allowing Cork to ride his mount.  Eleanor giggled on Ross’ arm.

Thankfully, her mother still did not know about Eleanor…but she wondered, now that all of the castle knew, when she would find out.  The Laird would not be long left alone once her mother knew she had a grandchild whose life she could maneuver. 

Annabel decided she would try her best to keep her mother uninformed and uninvolved if it were possible.  She would go back to London, ask her mother for the little cottage and see to her lands at Mulhannon.  Perhaps she was needed there, for the people had a leader, but maybe…maybe she could somehow be of assistance to them. 

That would give her a duty and she needed one right now.  Tomorrow she would inform the Laird of her decision to leave.

The castle was bustling with activity.  A new, more modern oven had been purchased and arrived by wagon just this morning.  Everyone was trying to get a peek as they installed the new kitchen instrument.  Mrs. Calvert was trying to keep the nosey ones out her way so the men could carry the heavy object in and install it.

“Be about your business.” She waved her hands. 

The Laird, having purchased the item had no inclination to see the installing of it and rather desired a good walk.

“Blithers, tell Ross I am to be about a walk.  The day is sunny, and I would escape this incessant noise.”

Lee ran up the stairs two at a time and entered Eleanor’s room.  As soon as she saw him, she reached out her arms and he lifted her easily to his chest.  “Eh lass what are ye about today?”

Phoebe rounded the corner.  “She is just up from her nap.” She smiled, grabbed a straw basket and began folding the child’s recently laundered clothing.

“It is a nice day today…not too cold…would ye be wantin’ a walk with ye’re papa?”

“Aye.”  The child answered and his laugh bellowed about the room. 

“Ye’ve taught her well.” He gave Phoebe a look.  “And I would be thankful to ye for it.”

“Oh bother, ‘tis my duty.  She is a Scot after all.” She smiled and waved them off, after retrieving the proper bunting for the child.  “See that you don’t keep her out too long.” She called.

Annabel, returning a stack of books to the library, watched the Laird as he carried the child on his arm.  She looked small next to his big body. Her heart lurched again, but she smiled.  All was well with her little one.

When she saw Annabel, she cried out, “Mummy.” And the Laird handed her over.  “Ah, she sees you.”  He smiled.

‘We are about a walk…would you join us?” he asked.

Annabel hesitated, then handed the child up to the Laird and said, “Yes.” and ran for her coat.

They walked out the front door together, leaving behind all the noise.  “Tis a good day to be outdoors for the child.  It’s unusual to be so warm this time of year…” he spoke quietly.

Annabel nodded, smiling up to Eleanor who was pointing up at the trees and the sky.

“She learns quickly.”

“She does at that.”  Annabel agreed, looking out at the great expanse of Scotland…for they were outside the walls now.

They walked on for a while, then Annabel took a deep breath.  “I had wanted an appointment with you.  It is time.”

“Time?”  he gave her a sideways glance.

Annabel remained quiet trying to think of a way to talk so that Eleanor would not understand nor be upset, by her tone.

“We will talk later…” his commanding voice was back.

* * *

At dusk, Annabel tapped at the Laird’s door. Ross opened for her at his call to enter.

“Sit down and tell me what troubles you.” He said, not looking up.

She sat and waited for him to acknowledge her.

“It is time I leave.  Eleanor is doing well.  She knows you as her papa. Phoebe and Fergus will probably get married, so that means she won’t be totally without someone she knows….” She found herself blubbering it out all at once. 

“And what will ye do?”

“Return to London.” She stated, not wishing to give him any details.

He nodded, but didn’t utter a word for a long moment.  “When?”

“A week hence.  It is already late in the season to be traveling about the countryside in this weather…but I would be back in London before the new year arrives.”

“As you wish.  How can I help?”

For a moment his anxiousness to help irritated her and then she realized he did not intend to sound gruff.  He was usually fluff and blunder, but soft-hearted.  She’d seen it many times.

“I need only a conveyance and a driver for the journey.  I will pack my trunk and be ready.”

“Who will accompany you?  English lasses require it, I know.” He smiled slightly.

“I will find someone.”

“Aye.  Have you talked with Cork?”

“No.” she admitted. 

“You must speak with him, for he considers ye his mother.”

“I know.” Her head dropped.  “I know.”

“Would ye allow Cork to accompany you?” he asked as though the thought had just entered his mind.

“I would…it’s not totally proper, but I would be happy to keep him in London with me for a few days…if you would allow it.  He would enjoy seeing the sights.”

“Aye…for you have taught the boy to read.”  He paused.  “And he especially likes to dream.”

She nodded, her cheeks warming. “Tis thanks I give for allowing him to accompany me.”

“Tis good for all.” He conceded.

Is that all, then?” 

He seemed preoccupied once again.

“Yes.  Thank you.”

“If I can assist you, come to me.” He ordered again and Annabel knew she was dismissed.

She stood to her feet and walked, her head held high, out the library door.  Ross’ look told her he’d heard all. Annabel climbed slowly up the stairs to her room.

Within the week, her small trunk had been hauled below-stairs and she sat waiting.  The weather had worsened but it was Cork who had been driving her to distraction the last several days. 

“Think ye we should leave yet today?”  he asked every morning.

“Come Sunday we shall be about our journey.” She said quietly.  “It is going to be long and quite tiresome for a boy…” she warned, clasping his thin shoulder.

“Not for me. I shall like to see everything.” He hurried to Mrs. Calvert who was even now shouting for him.  “Aye…she shouts like me own mother did.”

Annabel spent the last days with Eleanor as much as possible but on the final two she did not see her at all, hoping to wean them apart.

Sunday arrived, clear and cold.  Roads were frozen enough to make the travel easier as the wheels did not have to dip in and out of the muddy ditches. 

“I would have a word with ye.” The Laird appeared out of nowhere.  “Your trunks are ready.  My driver will take you where you need to go.  He will stay a few days so that you might show Cork around and then he will drive the lad home.”

“Thank you.”  She watched as he rounded his desk, pulled out a book and wrote furiously, then handed her a cheque.

Annabel looked at the amount and her eyes shot back to his.  “Whatever is this for?”

“For caring for my child for two years.  It is the least I can do to thank you for seeing to her care.” He brooked no argument and said so with his eyes.

Anger seethed inside of her.  She tossed the paper on the desk, “I do not wish to be paid a sum for caring for my…your child.” She murmured.

“Nevertheless you have no father and no husband and in England you will find yourself in a difficult position.”

“And in Scotland I wouldn’t?”

“Aye.  Our women marry their men for life, raise their children and always have a place to lay their heads.  We Scots do not find our women unworthy, as your English gentlemen do.”

“You may think what you will.  But I will be all right.” She turned, hating it that their last words would be angry ones.

“Aye.  We shall see.  I have made the offer and Scots do not make offers they don’t intend to keep.”  He lifted the cheque to her again.

She looked in the eyes of the man she now knew she loved, hesitated for a moment, imprinted his handsome face into memory, and turned.  “Thank you just the same.”  And walked out of the room.

“Females!” she heard him utter as his hand came down on the desk with a crash.

Blithers waited at the door, smiled and bowed, offering his hand.  “I shall escort you to your carriage, Miss Wedgewick.  I look forward to the day you return to Dunbeernton.”

She gazed at Blithers and wondered too, if what the Laird whispered when he thought she hadn’t heard…that poor Blithers was going daft.  He must know she would never be invited to return to the Laird’s Castle.

Cork was already inside waiting, impatient to be going.

She reached up on her tiptoes and kissed Blithers’ cheek, thanked him and let him help her inside.

She waved and taking one last look, listened as the clip clop of hooves on the bricked bridge signaled their leaving. Cork took her hand, but to his credit, said nothing. For indeed she could not utter a word. Tears plopped into her lap.