The Autumn Duchess- The Seasons' Fairy Tales

by Katie M John

  “Ah, you’re a relative.”

  “The daughter of an old friend.”

  The duke continued to study me with his little pig eyes.”

  “And your name.”

  “Lady Lennox, Sir,” I replied through gritted teeth.

  He removed his hand from my arm with as much aggression as he had clasped it.

  “Miss,” he tipped his head, “please inform Lady McGarrick I shall be calling in for coffee in the morning.”

  My stomach slid. Shit the toad was interested in me. I was certain that Lady McGarrick did not regularly entertain the Duke of Gifford, being she had let slip on several occasions what a repugnant oaf she found him, and how she had always felt so sorry for his late wife having to make an heir with him.”

  I nodded sharply and turned my full attention in the direction of the village. Before I could start walking again, I felt the firm grip of a hand squeeze by bottom hard.

  “Like a summer peach,” the Duke said with the air of a connoisseur.

  I spun on my heel and flashed him a look full of shocked outrage. There were many insults I wanted to let rip at him, but the words all stopped short in my throat. I couldn’t believe the man was so vile. Before my brain could scramble a suitable chastisement together, he had mounted his horse and already started travelling up the track.

  The rest of my walk back to the village was spent trying to forget the sensation of Duke Gifford’s vile touch. The man was a shit, that was pretty obvious from our brief meeting and I really didn’t want to spend any more time with him. I certainly never wanted to find myself in a room on my own with him because then I’d be forced to knee him in the balls and probably end up in some cold and rat-infested dungeon. I didn’t need to know much history to know that women’s rights were something men hadn’t even thought about in the eighteenth century.

  I hoped I’d return to the McGarrick house to find Glen home. Even though I wouldn’t tell him what had happened between me and Duke Gifford, I just wanted to feel safe, and Glen made me feel safe.

  I was disappointed to find the whole house empty except for the small handful of servants who ran the household. Fi came out to meet me on the pre-text of asking if I would like some tea, when it was really obvious she just wanted to know where I had been for the day.

  I took up her invitation before asking, “Where is everybody?”

  “Master Glen still isn’t back and Lady McGarrick is having tea with the Reverend. Where would you like your tea?”

  “May I have it in my room?” I asked, already heading for the stairs. I wanted to get changed. “Oh, I meant to say, I met the Duke of Gifford today.” Fi’s face flickered with an expression I couldn’t read. “He said he would be calling by for coffee tomorrow morning.”

  “Here?”

  Fi’s question confirmed my suspicion that the Duke of Gifford wasn’t a regular visitor and my stomach slid once more.

  “Yes,” I replied, heading up the rest of the stairs as quickly as I could. What I would give for a hot running twenty-first century shower right in that moment. At least then I might be able to wash away the still lingering sensation of the Duke’s uninvited touch.

  CHAPTER TEN.

  When I came down for supper, my heart skipped at the sight of Glen sitting at the table, impatiently tucking into an apple as he waited for his meal. His gaze met mine as I lingered momentarily in the door, soaking in the image of him in the candlelight, his shirt all messed up and his hair loose and tousled. He looked like he could do with a good bath, but the look suited him. He looked wild and of the landscape.

  “Skye,” he said, as if seeing me for the first time.

  I dropped my eyes. There was such fire in his look that it made me burn to look at him. “You look especially bonny this evening,” he said as the chair scraped back from the table and I watched as his feet came into view.

  “You nay able to look at me now?” he asked, placing his finger under my chin and lifting my face up towards him

  “I didn’t know how long you’d be gone.”

  “Ach, you missed me, no?” he teased, nudging my arm with his elbow.

  “Maybe a little.”

  “I brought you something,” he said, jogging back over to the table before returning to me with a beautiful, perfect feather.

  “It’s pretty. What bird is it from?”

  “It’s a wing feather from a golden eagle. You put that in your plume and you’ll be a lady alright. That’s the best feather a lady can wear.”

  I smiled pulling it towards my chest. It was possibly the most precious gift anybody had ever given me.

  “Thank you.”

  Glen’s fingers tentatively reached out for my hand and I threaded my fingers through his, locking him to me, begging him to kiss me.

  “They say absence makes the heart grow fonder,” he said, grinning. But his eyes weren’t playing, they were fixed on mine and we were having a much more serious conversation through them. It was a conversation about boundaries and futures and other things. With his free hand, he cupped my cheek and I found myself nuzzling into it, relishing the sensation of his touch.

  “Oh, lassie,” he whispered. “What’s happening between us?”

  I didn’t have the answer. I’d never had feelings like this before. Boys were still a mystery to me and I’d made it all the way to seventeen-years-old only having kissed two boys before—one which didn’t count because we were in Year 7 and had no idea what it was all about, and then a kiss in Year 11, when I’d had a crazy moment at a house party and found myself kissing Nick Houston, who was cute enough but a total idiot. Neither of those kisses were memorable for the right reasons but now, standing here, so close to Glen, his teeth biting into his lips and his eyes alive with desire, I knew that should we kiss, this would be my first proper kiss, a woman’s kiss. A kiss from the heart.

  I moved my head, which was still cradled in his hand and gave him the permission he had been seeking. His lips brushed mine briefly, like the quick landing of a butterfly and he pulled back to look at the effect of his touch. My vision had softened under his spell and my body arched towards him, like a flower reaching for the sun. His mouth returned to mine with more confidence, crushing my lips under his. His teeth nipped at my bottom lip and his tongue pushed deep, stroking the top of my mouth as he unashamedly stole the breath from my lungs. I wanted to push back right into him, for there to be no beginning and end to us, for us to be one single being. He steadied himself by placing both of his hands on my waist before breaking away at the sound of approaching footsteps.

  By the time Lady McGarrick entered the room, Glen was sat back in his chair and had resumed eating his apple, leaving me to look guilty as sin as I fiddled with the cutlery.

  “Everything alright?” she asked, taking a seat and flapping the napkin onto her lap. The way she looked from me to Glen and back again told us she knew something was going on.

  “Fine, mother,” Glen said, pouring out some red wine from the decanter before offering to fill my glass up despite the fact I had refused wine every meal since my arrival. I didn’t like red wine as it was and this stuff was even more like vinegar.

  “The night after tomorrow,” Lady McGarrick said, turning her attention to me, “Glen and I will be out. We have a gathering up at the red castle with the Duke of Gifford. I’ll make arrangements for Fi to prepare a light supper for you.”

  I nodded and smiled at Fi as she placed a large pewter charger down on the table near me. I could smell the fish before she removed the lid to reveal a large poached salmon.

  “Talking of the Duke of Gifford, I met him today whilst I was out walking,” I said.

  Lady McGarrick flashed Glen a look before returning her attention to me. “And what did you make of our Duke?”

  I pressed my lips together and my grip tightened around my spoon. Lady McGarrick laughed in solidarity. “I see he made his usual kind of first impression. He’s a repugnant little creature, isn’t he.” It w
asn’t a question.

  “He instructed me to tell you he was coming for coffee in the morning.”

  “Oh,” she said, her laughter stopping. “Did he now? How impudent of him.”

  “Did he say why?” Glen asked, forking a piece of salmon into his mouth.

  I shook my head. “I have no idea,” I lied.

  “Well, I shall be sure to pull him up on his manners when he comes,” Lady McGarrick said, drinking deeply from her glass of wine. “I’m afraid I’m pretty sure this has something to do with you being here, Skye. The Duke is a notorious womaniser, and the hint of a new skirt in the village will have gained his interest.”

  “You’d have thought he’d show more respect being his last wife is not yet cold in the ground.”

  “That was never a love, Glen. Everyone knew that and we all felt sorry for the poor girl he insisted marry him. He’d wanted a breeder.” Lady McGarrick shuddered slightly at the term. “The poor wretch did her best and now he has his precious heir.”

  “When did his wife die?” I asked

  “Last month.”

  I jolted. “As soon ago as that! The man is a total…” A light kick on the shins from Glen’s direction reminded me that this was not the place or time for my twenty-first insults.

  “Yes, his baby is the last to be born in the village this year.”

  My head snapped in her direction quicker than I intended. I wasn’t meant to know about the village curse or the babies. “That poor baby is to be raised without a mother and with such a man for a father.”

  “Oh, he’ll find another wife soon enough. The last one was number five.”

  “Five! What’s he doing with them? Murdering them?” I asked.

  An uncomfortable silence settled across the table and was thankfully saved by Glen’s chuckle. “You have such a dark sense of humour, Skye.”

  Lady McGarrick returned to the task of de-boning her salmon and I could feel Glen watching me, trying to get my attention so he could flirt outrageously with me. He was clearly still feeling very pleased with himself and our stolen kiss.

  “I’ve got to go back out onto the estate for the next couple of days,” Glen said, reaching for the bowl of garden salad that had appeared as if by magic.

  “Oh,” I said before I could catch myself. Lady McGarrick’s hand faltered on the dish of potatoes before pretending she hadn’t noticed anything.

  “I have finally managed to get a letter on its way down to your family representative in London,” she said, spooning out a small pile of potatoes. “It should be there by the end of the week. Hopefully, we can get you back to London and with god’s grace, your parents have made their way back there unharmed.”

  “That would be a fine miracle, Lady McGarrick. I pray for such a thing every night.” I had given her an entirely fabricated address in the hope that she wouldn’t have a way of discovering my deceit. I hated lying to good people, but I had little choice if I was to survive.

  Lady McGarrick nodded and handed me the bowl of potatoes. “Amen,” she said, crossing her chest once I had relieved her of the bowl. “I can’t say I will be entirely happy to see you leave Skye. It’s been nice to have another woman in the house.”

  “Thank you, Lady McGarrick,” I replied, genuinely surprised by the affection in her tone. “And I know Glen will miss you, too.”

  I blushed and hoped she didn’t take it as confirmation of her suspicions.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Lady McGarrick sent me away from the house for the morning of the Duke’s visit and took great delight in telling us later about the Duke’s sour mood when he realised he had been outwitted. Glen had left after lunch and the house fell cold with him gone. Before he had left, he had pressed me against the wall and stolen a kiss even sweeter than our first. I was falling in love with him, I knew it was silly but I couldn’t help it. He did something to me. Something that was very hard to put into words.

  I was sitting in one of the many window seats that overlooked the loch. I wondered if the people who lived her ever tired of it. I couldn’t imagine how they could when it changed its appearance so often. Even in the space of an hour, the mountain backdrop would shift depending on the cloud fall and the tidal mists, or the way the sunlight fell on the ground.

  “You’re bored,” Lady McGarrick said, raising her eyes from her sewing.

  “Just a little but it’s so pretty outside that it’s easy to get lost for an hour or two.”

  “I love London,” she said, much to my surprise. I’d just assumed she had been born here and never left. “We only went a couple of times, but each time I couldn’t get over the energy in the city, of all the wonderful things to see, of all the interesting people.”

  “It’s certainly very exciting,” I said, feeling a little homesick for the city for the first time.

  “You should take a walk to Aileen’s in the village. Their house is second after the inn. Her father fancies himself a scholar and they have the most impressive library in the area. I’m sure he would be happy lend you a couple of books.”

  I looked back out and took in the colour of the sky. It was still early enough to take a walk and be back before sundown. And besides, with Glen away again, it would be nice to spend some time with Aileen.

  *

  After being cooped up, it was nice to stretch my legs and as I approached the heart of the village, a flurry of activity captured my attention. A group of the working men were building pens and piles of cages made from rope netting. It looked like they were making a temporary farm and I wondered if they were going to have some kind of livestock exhibition or something. I had been stood for several minutes, watching them when I heard my name called from across the street. It was Aileen.

  “Hi,” I called, smiling as she tried to navigate the muddy puddles on the main road. She was wearing ridiculous shoes. Although they were very pretty. “I was coming to see you,” I said.

  “Oh, aye?”

  “Lady McGarrick said your father has an impressive library.”

  “Did she now. I’m sure that’s not the only thing about my father that Lady McGarrick finds impressive,” Aileen said, raising her eyebrow playfully.

  “No!” I exclaimed. “They’re not… you know, courting are they?” I thought back to church when I had seen Aileen’s father being particularly solicitous to Lady McGarrick but I had just put that down to her status in the village over anything else.

  “They’ve been friends for years,” Aileen said as if this explained everything.

  I turned my attention back to the building activity. “What are they doing?” I asked.

  “Making holds for the wild ones.”

  “The wild ones?”

  “Yes, once a year all the men of the village go out on this bloodthirsty hunt and bring back any wild beast they can find.”

  Immediately it all made sense. These were the offerings Meg had told me about.

  “Come on then,” she said turning on her pretty blue satin heel. I could murder a cup of tea—and you can tell me all about what’s going on between you and Glen. I’ve never seen the boy so loved up.”

  I laughed and snorted as if her idea was ridiculous. “He’s not loved up—we’re not… it’s not like that.”

  “Sure it isn’t. Do you want to stay for supper, too?”

  I smiled and followed after her, wrapping my shawl tighter to me with the sudden plunge in air temperature. “Yes, if that’s okay with your father?”

  “I think he has plans to call in on Lady McGarrick,” she said winking. “He mentioned something about helping her out with some land papers.

  “Then maybe we should leave them to it,” I said, winking.

  *

  The evening with Aileen was fun, more than I’d had since my arrival. She had a wicked sense of humour and with her father out of the house, abandoned any pretence at being a lady. Having stripped down to her cotton under dress, cast off her shoes and recovered a bottle of fine whisky from her fathe
r’s stash, she curled up on the floor in front of the roaring fire and poured us both a glass. I didn’t have the heart to spoil the energy and refuse, but after the stuff Glen had given me out at the bothy, there was no way that I was going to be slinging it down my throat. This time, I sipped at it carefully and let the whisky gently warm my chest rather than set a raging fire. It was still disgusting.

  “Has Glen told you about the Dark Fairy ritual? Are you coming?”

  I shook my head and glanced towards the door. “You shouldn’t talk about her,” I said, taking another nervous sip from the glass.

  “It’s all superstitious nonsense,” Aileen said with confidence. “A bit like God really.”

  I snorted and burning liquor shot up my nose. “Wow, that’s…” I coughed to clear my throat.

  “What?” she shrugged, tipping her glass in my direction. “Surely you don’t believe in all that either. I don’t think most of the folks who go to church believe it—we just all go because we think it’s what we’re meant to do, you know, a reassuring habit, like all this Dark Fairy rubbish.”

  I sighed and pushed back into the sofa. “I don’t know. I think there are a lot more things about this universe we’ve yet to learn, Aileen. Nothing works in the way we really think it does. All we really have is a good guess.”

  “True. My father has spent a lifetime reading all about the various scientific thoughts—about how humans work and how the sky works and the land and animals and all the other things that go to make up our world. It’s as if he’s been looking for some great answer to it all, but do you know what I think? I think everything just is.” She took a large mouthful of whisky and laughed when it hit her.

  “What do you mean, you think it just is?” I asked, intrigued by Aileen’s strangely modern outlook.

  “What I said. I don’t think there are any great magical answers. I think we live, we die and that’s it. Like the animals. Like the world around us. Maybe we’re in some great big cycle where when we die our energy gets changed into something else, but that’s about the most exciting it gets. I don’t believe we go to a magical palace in the sky and I don’t believe the Dark Fairy exists.”