by Dayna Quince
She wanted to bare her wounded heart to him, to let the pain and worry spill from her like a flood. She’d never had a friend like him before, not even among women her own age.
“I suppose I wasn’t the only one ruined that day,” she said, her lips twisting in a wry smile.
“No,” he said, picking up a leaf and flicking it away.
He was fidgety, a side of him she’d never seen before. His persona of perfection was gone now, and she liked the man underneath much better. She slipped her hand in her dress pocket, her fingers touching Lachy’s soft neckerchief. She still carried it, reminding herself of him, even though it hurt. The pain was just as addictive as her love for him, and she could not yet let it go—if ever.
“I’m in love, too,” she blurted.
Her throat tightened as more words rushed to come out, but she bit her lip as he turned to her.
“You? With who? I never saw someone turn your head in London.”
“He’s never been to London, that I know of.”
Adam raised a brow. “Someone here?”
Prim nodded. “He was a soldier, and now he works for Erick at the new dairy.”
His eyes widened. “The Scotsman, Major Dennehy?”
“You remember?”
“He isn’t a man one easily forgets.”
“No.”
Her heart tumbled over itself.
What will I do if he never returns, or worse, if he does, and never speaks to me again?
“I met him once before, after Violet’s wedding,” Prim admitted, as she laced her fingers together in her lap.
“And then you returned and tried to tempt me to take liberties,” Adam said. “I thought it odd, but now I understand.”
“You do?”
He grimaced. “Passion is not an easy emotion. It simply takes root, and if tied to love, like ours is, there is only one person who can satisfy it.”
Ours.
They were in the same miserable boat. Prim surprised herself by taking his hand.
“I’m not sure Lachy will return to me. I want you to be happy, Adam, and be with the person you love. I want you to have what I cannot.”
“Don’t say that,” he urged, squeezing her hand. “He’ll come back to you. I can see now he was angry, and men are stupid when they’re angry. He’ll realize he can’t live without you. I bet my finest silver silk coat.”
Prim laughed, even though her eyes stung with the rush of tears. She took a deep breath, keeping them at bay. Then Violet and Miss Chambers came around the corner, and Miss Chambers’ sharp gaze focused on their linked hands.
“What a cozy vision you two present. Mother will feel much improved when I inform her.”
Violet’s gaze was much more assessing. “Prim, are you well?”
Prim stood, Adam’s hand sliding from hers as he followed. “I’m fine. Let’s return to the house for tea.”
She was curious to see if Adam’s mother would have a sudden rebound of health, with news of their mild display of affection. But the woman was going to be sorely disappointed.
Even though Prim couldn’t ignore the feeling that she was drifting further from Lachy every day he was away, Adam’s presence brought her comfort and clarity, but certainly not in the form of romance. If anything, things had never been more honest between them. There was nothing about their closeness that stirred deeper emotions other than kindness and friendship.
Adam was showing her a new side of himself, his true form, and she had found a way to express her vulnerability to someone who understood her more so than her sisters could. They had each found their true love, but in different ways. Prim could see they were brimming with the urge to advise her, but she knew they simply couldn’t understand her situation, because their paths had been so different from her own. They wanted to help, but they couldn’t. Neither could Adam, but at least he understood.
She wanted to ask who he loved, but couldn’t, not in the presence of his sister.
Another week passed, and still there was no sign or written word from Lachy. Prim even ventured into his village, which was more lively than usual, the two middle Wilson children, Gregory and Dean, chasing each other through the street while their mother held Isla and talked with the tavern keeper. But somehow, she couldn’t find the courage to ask any of his clansmen where their laird was.
The painful memory of Lachy’s scornful exit two weeks ago had left Prim feeling like an interloper. Had these people, who lived so close and even worked for Erick, always held the opinion that I and my family had stolen the castle from them?
Not that Prim or Erick himself had anything to do with the dealings of the Earl of Cassel, but now that she knew there was a sordid history involved, she couldn’t squelch a smidge of guilt, and that only compounded her growing doubt of Lachy’s true feelings into a poison that was rapidly spreading through her heart.
How did we become so close, and then so far from each other in such a short time? Have we always been doomed to fall apart?
She was questioning everything now—his actions, her reactions, and worse, the urgings of her own heart. Returning home, Prim sought refuge in her room, and she found Ingrid waiting there, folding strips of linen.
“There you are,” the maid said. “I thought I might find you here after breakfast, preparing for your monthly.”
“What?”
Prim frowned as she sat at her vanity and Ingrid untied her riding hat.
“It’s nearly time, isn’t it?”
The maid started counting off the days on her fingers. Prim watched her, her breaths quickening as she counted in her head from the date of her last courses. She could set the time by the regularity of her monthly visitor, but lately, the days had passed in a fog of misery. She licked her lips, trying to think of something to say as Ingrid frowned in thought and began to recount.
“I’m late.”
The maid focused on her and blinked. “Oh. Oh! I know, it must be the shock of your almost-wedding, and then the return of Lord Peverel. Stress can delay a woman’s monthly. I’ve been told that before.”
Ingrid nodded with a certainty Prim wished she could believe in, too.
Instead, she scrutinized herself in the mirror. She had no way of knowing for some time, but in her heart, she already knew.
I’m carrying Lachy’s baby.
Fear and joy collided inside her, and a warm wave of pleasure swept through her. Each breath felt new, and the pounding of her heart was a sweet rhythm. There was a life inside her made of both she and Lachy.
Prim floated in her slippers as she left her room. She exited through the back of the castle, determined to walk to Lachy’s cottage, in some vain, pathetic hope that he’d suddenly returned. If not, then she might enter anyway, and just sit, or lay on the bed they had shared, dreaming of when they would do so again.
They were going to be a family.
She didn’t know how he would feel about the baby, but she could only hope that it would soften his anger regarding the castle, and Lord Peverel’s presence. She would explain everything to him, and he would understand.
How could he not?
He’d once asked her what home was, and Prim would now show him what it meant. A babe, a place to rest your head in the arms of someone who loved you.
Who needs a castle when you have love?
Not Prim.
Crossing the tree-studded lawn, she saw his cottage come into view, and it appeared just as vacant as the last few times she’d seen it. She slowed, her heart sinking as she considered turning back. But then a curl of smoke rose from the chimney, as if a fire had just sparked to life in the hearth.
Prim picked up her pace, her heart pounding as she drew closer. Then the door opened, and her heart leapt into her throat as a man stepped through. He glanced up, smiling in recognition and nodding in greeting.
Her feet dragged to a stop, and then she continued forward with heavy steps.
“Good afternoon, Miss Everly. Lovely day,
it is.”
“Good afternoon, Mr. Wilson. I see you’ve moved to the cottage closest to the dairy.”
“That we have.”
“Is it enough space for you and your family?”
One room for a large family such as the Wilsons was hardly any room at all.
“Twill be, once we add to the space. His Grace has permitted more rooms to be added, seeing as I’m to take over the dairy for the major.”
“Major Dennehy is leaving?”
“Not leaving his village, no, but leaving his position at the dairy. He’s to be a proper laird now, you see. We haven’t had a proper laird in some time.”
“Oh.” Prim felt like she was speaking around a rock in her throat. “What does that mean, precisely?”
“Well, we won’t know until after the meeting tonight. It will be the first clan gathering since the previous Laird Dennehy. I have every hope, however, that Major Dennehy can return the clan to its former prosperity.”
She nodded, and tucked her shaky hands behind her back. “That sounds wonderful, Mr. Wilson. I am so happy for the clan. When did the major return?”
“Just yesterday.”
“Ah.” Prim gave him a tight smile. “Good. Well, I should be going now. My mother is expecting me for tea.”
“Good day, Miss Everly.”
“Good day to you, Mr. Wilson.”
Prim turned back toward the castle, tears streaming down her face as she marched on, her pulse beating out a dirge through her limbs. Once in sight of the castle, she slowed and paused under the thick branches of an oak. She didn’t want anyone to see her like this. She couldn’t bear to put words to the lancing pain that had struck deep in her chest. She slumped against the tree, exhaustion claiming her, and sank to the ground, which was covered in a thick layer of pine needles.
He returned yesterday, and he didn’t come to me?
Do I mean so little to him? And what does it mean that he’d let go of his position at the dairy and was taking up the mantle of laird?
He must have found something out about the castle, something that would revive the clan. Erick would not be happy about it, but he must already know, if Lachy had already resigned.
Prim pushed to her feet, wiping her eyes with the muslin sleeve of her dress. She stepped out from under the tree just as a cart and mule rounded the side of the castle.
A swell of anger bolstered her as Lachy came into view with dazzling clarity.
He hadn’t seen her, or he was ignoring her as she marched across the lawn toward him.
“Lachy!” she called out.
He didn’t even look her way.
Without taking her gaze from him, she swept up a pine cone and launched it at him. The cone bounced off the brim of his hat, and immediately his attention shot toward her.
Prim halted, and set her fists on her hips.
Lachy reined in his mule and hopped down from the cart. His expression set, he stalked forward in an awkward gait. “Did you just throw a pine cone at me?”
She nodded. “Yes. Calling out to you wasn’t effective.”
“I didn’t hear you.”
“Clearly. Nor did you care to see me after you returned yesterday.”
He narrowed his eyes at her, stopping right in front of her. “You were busy, strolling the garden with your fiancé.”
“Former fiancé,” Prim bit off.
“Then why is he still here?”
“His mother took ill. Why didn’t you write to me?”
His jaw tightened, and he swallowed. “I didn’t think I had a reason to.”
She ground her teeth together. “You had nothing to say to me? At all? About why you left? No apology for how you left?” Her breathing hitched. “Did our night together mean nothing to you?”
His eyes hardened. “I thought it did, but then you went running off to your fiancé, and seeing the two of you together suddenly made things quite clear to me.”
“Well, nothing is clear to me. I thought… I thought I meant something to you. But now I’ve learned you’ve left the dairy, and taken up your role as laird. What does that mean?”
“It means I have a responsibility to me people, greater than anything else right now.”
“Including me.”
“It was a dream, Prim, but it’s over. I didn’t think you wanted to continue—”
“You didn’t ask me!” she cried. “You left, thinking I’d run back to Adam, but the truth is, you were the one running away.”
“I was searching for the truth.”
“And what did you find?”
He shifted on his feet. “I found that my legacy has been stolen from me, the castle at my back ripped from my hands by the Earl of Cassel, and other things I can’t bear to dwell upon at the moment.”
“And what of me, Lachy? What am I supposed to do now? I—”
I’m carrying your child.
She sucked in a breath. The words wouldn’t come, not while he was looking at her as if she’d been the one to take his heritage from him.
“Go back to your fop of a fiancé, Prim. You English deserve each other.”
Then he turned and stepped back to his cart.
“What did I ever do to deserve this from you? I wanted to be with you.”
“We can’t always have what we want. The world isn’t as kind to everyone as it’s been to you. We could never have been truly together. You have no idea what it is like fer me to see your family in me home now, after all that has been taken from me people. Some things just canna be changed.”
“Perhaps I will marry Adam,” she said, the words tasting like bile in her mouth. “He did ask, you know. He apologized, and he asked me again, because unlike you, he isn’t afraid to admit when he’s wrong. Unlike you, I know who he is, and I know I can trust him.” She dug her hand into her dress pocket, and threw his tartan neckerchief on the ground. “You can have this back, too.”
As if to punctuate her words, the wind picked up and blew the neckerchief to Lachy’s feet. He bent and picked it up. Then he turned his back to her and returned to the cart without a word.
Prim couldn’t move as she watched him settle into his seat and flick the reins.
Her whole body hurt as he drove away from her. She didn’t know what to do. Every dream she’d had for the two of them, and every vision of them as a family simply shattered in invisible shards around her.
She sank to her knees there in the grass, unseeing and unable to hear the groom that called to her. She jerked as a maid came to her side, her words jumbled to Prim’s ears. She closed her eyes, wanting only to disappear, to turn to mist, and drift into the air. But strong arms came around her instead, and then she was being carried.
Prim didn’t open her eyes until an acrid smell jolted her to full awareness. Her mother waved the smelling salts under her nose again. Prim lurched away from the stench, her stomach turning.
“Get that away from me.”
Her family surrounded her, their concerned faces filling her field of view.
“Are you ill?” Violet asked.
Prim shook her heard. She had nothing she was ready to say. What will my family do once they know? Where will I go? Ablehill castle was the refuge of their family. None of the other residences held half as much meaning.
Once Prim’s condition was known, her family would face mockery. They would have to hide her in another residence, far from Society.
She began to shake.
“Dear, you’re as white as a sheet.” Lady Everly drew close again, taking her daughter’s hands. “What happened? Were you attacked?”
The voices of her family all filled the room, a cacophony even to Prim’s fuzzy ears. She covered them with her hands.
“Please—please stop.”
They instantly quieted.
She needed to think. She needed peace, and someone to help her decide, someone other than her frantic mother and sisters.
Suddenly she knew what to do.
“Plea
se bring Adam to me, and then kindly leave us alone.”
Her family went silent, but Erick departed without a word. When her ex-fiancé entered, they disappeared, the click of the door echoing in the drawing room.
“Prim, what the devil is going on?”
He sat on the edge of the settee she laid upon, and took her hand.
“I need you to marry me, Adam. I’m certain I’m carrying Lachy’s child, and he…” Her throat thickened. “He hates me. He hates my family, and he blames them for what was taken from his clan many years ago.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Adam spat. “How can he blame you?”
Prim sniffed and shook her head. “It doesn’t matter now, does it? He does, and there is no other option for me but to marry quickly and protect my family from the truth of what I’ve done.”
She twisted to him, holding his gaze. “We’re friends, and I will never expect anything more than that. Will you help me? I know I’m asking too much, but you’re the only one who can save me now.”
He squeezed her hands between his. “Of course. We will marry, and I’ll claim the babe as mine, but… You must know the truth, if we are to go through with this. Your friendship means the world to me, and your trust even more so. I am honored that you came to me to help you, and so it is only right that I be just as honest with you, for you will no doubt discover the truth on your own.”
Prim nodded, the lightness in her head and the terrible shaking of her hands a distraction as he spoke. She felt like she was on the verge of falling apart again. She licked her dry lips. “Go on.”
“You know I’m in love with someone else.”
“Yes, and I accept that marrying me won’t change that.”
“The person I love,” he said, pausing, his eyes growing bright. “It’s Martin, my valet.”
Prim took a moment to digest this. “Your…valet?”
“Yes. I’m in love with him, and have been for some time. It’s a secret I’ve hidden from my family, but there are already rumors of the truth slipping out.”