by Cheryl Bolen
“Hugh.”
A sudden voice from his right stirred him from his single-minded mission. Coming toward him was Mary, a small parcel tucked under her arm. He gave her a friendly greeting. “Hello.”
He nodded toward the parcel. “Anything exciting?”
She shook her head. “No. Just woolen stockings. I never realized Scotland would be this cold.”
As she neared, he could see she was holding the parcel close to herself, and her shoulders were scrunched up. A wave of pity swept over him the instant he realized Mary was shivering. He ached to pull her into his arms and protect her from the wind.
If she was suffering in the relative warmth of Edinburgh, Mary was in for a miserable time in the frigid climes of Strathmore Mountain. He smiled as a thought came to him. He now had the perfect opportunity to try and make up for some of his thoughtless behavior—to show Mary that she was indeed important to him.
“Did you by chance get an opportunity to go to Butlers with Adelaide?” he asked. Butlers in Edinburgh sold all manner of clothing, from hats and scarfs, through to greatcoats and boots, and everything in between.
“No. We passed it on the way through to some other shops and she pointed it out to me. They are by royal appointment to the king, are they not?” she replied.
“And the Duke of Strathmore,” he said.
The look of delighted surprise on her face made his heart beat a little faster.
Hugh offered Mary his arm. “Come. You cannot visit Edinburgh without setting foot inside Butlers, especially when you are a guest of one of its patrons.”
She took his arm and his heart soared. They had walked together through the university grounds over the years, but never once had he dared dream that he would be walking arm in arm with her in the middle of Edinburgh.
With her hand on his arm, he knew she was where she was meant to be. He nodded his greetings to other people as they headed back up the Royal Mile, all the while indulging in a pleasant fantasy that they were a married couple, and this was something they did every day.
The short walk to Butlers soon had Hugh’s mind racing with other ideas. He would buy Mary a pair of sensible wool-lined leather gloves. Yes, that would do. No. A thick scarf and gloves was what she needed. And a coat.
By the time the doorman at Butlers ushered them inside, Hugh had a plan firmly set in his mind. Mary would not feel the cold for one moment if he had anything to say about it.
As a nearby shop assistant made his way toward them, Hugh straightened his shoulders and turned to Mary.
“I am so sorry,” he said.
She scowled. “What for?”
“For being an ass. I forgot your Christmas present in Cambridge because I was too caught up in my concerns. And I wasn’t there for you when you were asked to leave the university. It was selfish of me. So, I am begging your indulgence to allow me to make a small step toward the restitution of our friendship,” he said.
“Oh, Hugh,” she murmured.
The shop assistant stopped in front of them and bowed low. “Welcome to Butlers. How may I be of assistance to you today?”
Hugh turned and smiled at the man. “Good morning, I am Lord Hugh Radley, and this is my friend Miss Mary Gray. Miss Gray is staying with my family at Strathmore Castle for Christmas. As her wardrobe is more suited to the warmer climes of England, I was thinking she might need kitting out with a full Scottish wardrobe. What do you think?”
Mary’s mouth opened, but Hugh ignored her attempted protest.
The shop assistant held his hands together tightly; a nice Christmas commission would come from such a sale. “I could not agree more, my lord. May I suggest we begin with a pair of tackety half-boots to ensure Miss Gray has a sure footing in the snow, and then move on to the woolens section?”
“Perfect.”
Mary’s cheeks continued to burn until they finally left Butlers several hours later. In that time, Hugh had spent, in her opinion, an outrageous sum of money on a new wardrobe for her. Her second attempt at protesting over his extravagance was ignored by both Hugh and the shop assistant; they were too busy deciding on the color of the hat which was to go with her new coat.
But it was not just the amount of money Hugh had spent on her which had Mary’s heart racing. It was the brief and often light touches of his hand whenever he drew near. When he handed her a pair of kid leather gloves, she felt the heat of his fingers as they brushed against hers. She trembled at his touch.
When he reached out and tucked a wayward curl behind her ear after she had finished trying on a hat, Mary didn’t know where to look. A pair of piercing blue eyes met her gaze. The smile which accompanied them took her breath away.
“Since you cannot choose between the forest green one and the chocolate brown one, I think we should take both,” he said. He was so close to her that she caught the hint of musk and jasmine. Hugh was wearing the cologne she had given to him.
She pretended not to look at the price tag of the hat, having already been gently scolded for wincing when she looked at the price of the coat Hugh had chosen for her earlier. He was determined to spoil her, and she knew nothing that she said would have the slightest effect on him completing his mission.
When they returned to the inn later that afternoon, Mary’s faint hopes of hearing Adelaide censure her brother over his prodigality were immediately dashed.
“Oh my, aren’t you the kick!” exclaimed Adelaide, her gaze moving up from Mary’s green coat to her matching hat.
Mary was tempted to pinch Hugh when she saw the sly smile which sat on his lips. He seemed so very pleased with himself. Happiness made him even more handsome.
“It took the combined efforts of myself and an enthusiastic shop assistant at Butlers to win the day, but I think we all did well. Including Mary,” he said.
“Yes, you did, and Mary, you look wonderful. I must confess I was going to go through the tall cupboards at the castle and see what spare winter clothes we had so that you would not freeze. It is hard to eat supper when your teeth are continually chattering,” said Adelaide.
Charles appeared in the room, carrying a smiling Will. Adelaide hurriedly scooped her son up into her arms. “Did your papa rescue you from a long sleep?” she cooed.
“Actually, we both had a very long sleep. I put him down and went to have a five-minute sieste on the bed; the next thing I knew, it was three hours later,” replied Charles.
Charles looked at Mary and her new attire, then looked back to his wife. Mary caught the slight raise of an eyebrow as he and Adelaide exchanged a knowing look.
“Well, that is good. It means you will be able to get up to him in the middle of the night and I might get some sleep,” replied Adelaide.
Hugh cleared his throat. “Speaking of sleep, I thought we might like to have an early supper this evening so we can be on the road at first light. I have reserved a private dining room.”
If his efforts at shopping earlier in the day had been a surprise, the fact that Hugh had made arrangements of any sort was a revelation to Mary. He was forever forgetting to eat, so much so that she suspected the toast she regularly made for him in the evenings was the only meal he ate some days.
The Hugh Radley who now stood beside her was revealing himself to be a different man to the one she had thought she knew over the last two or so years. There was something in his manner that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. It intrigued her.
She had developed a habit of chancing a look in his direction every so often, continuing her ongoing private study of him. But over the past few days, there had been several occasions when she had turned to Hugh, intent on sneaking a glance, only to find him looking at her.
Just as he was doing this very moment.
She forced herself to look away, fearful that if she continued to hold his gaze that he may finally see what she was certain was written all over her face.
She was hopelessly and irretrievably in love with him.
Chapter 8
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Mary had lived a sheltered life. Her knowledge of the world, and even England for that matter, came mostly from books. With her father devoting his time to the university, there had been little opportunity for them to travel outside Cambridge. She had been to London once, but that had been for a series of lectures given by her father, and apart from a short visit to Westminster Abbey, she had seen nothing of the great city.
The trip to Scotland was proving an eye-opening experience. Edinburgh, with its cobbled streets and imposing castle, had captured her imagination. She made a promise to herself that if she was able to make her work as a tutor a success, she would set aside a little money each week so that at least once a year she could afford to travel outside of Cambridge. She longed to see more of the world.
She looked around the travel coach. Adelaide and Charles were busy with William. Charles softly singing a French lullaby to his son, while his wife held Will in her arms and stared lovingly at her husband. Mary felt her heart swell as she watched the devoted couple and their baby. From the happy gurgles of Will, it was obvious he enjoyed hearing his father’s dulcet tones.
Hugh sat beside Mary on the bench. For once he did not have his nose in a book. He was staring out the window, the hint of a smile on his face.
The coach had turned off the main road not far from Falkirk several hours earlier, and as they made their way along the narrow side road which led to Strathmore Mountain, Mary could see the landscape changing. The wooded Lowlands gave way to sweeping snow-covered meadows framed by towering mountains. The peaks of the mountains were hidden from view by low gray clouds.
Adelaide handed Will to his father and both she and Hugh pressed their faces to the window of the coach. At one point, they exchanged an excited giggle. Mary sat bemused at the sight, while Charles simply smiled.
“Walls!” cried Adelaide.
Hugh snorted. “No! Where?”
His sister held her finger to the glass. “Between the tallest of those trees. There it is again. I win.”
Adelaide sat back in her seat and grinned at Hugh. “When will you ever learn? I know the exact point on the road.”
A less-than-impressed-looking Hugh shook his head. “Alright, you win. Again.”
He turned his gaze from his sister and looked blankly at Mary. He blinked, and the vague expression on his face changed. He had registered her presence.
“Come, look,” he said.
He got up and after Mary had shuffled along the bench and taken a position at the window, Hugh sat down on the other side of her. He pointed to two tall trees which stood in the middle of a nearby wood.
“There. Can you see the gray walls? Keep watching; it will come into full view any moment now,” he said.
Mary peered out and she caught sight of a solid patch of gray between the trees. As the coach turned, the wood was left behind. She then got a clear view of what Adelaide and Hugh had been searching for.
Across the distance of a mile or so, beyond a small village loomed a towering Norman era stronghold. Strathmore Castle, home of the Duke of Strathmore and the Radley family.
Her mouth dropped open.
Hugh chuckled, and Adelaide clapped her hands. “Over five hundred years, never been taken,” they chorused.
She had seen pictures of castles in books, and there were several real ones in the area around Cambridge, but none of them were anything like what Mary now saw. There were no ornate towers or flying buttresses. This was a stone behemoth built to withstand attack from bloodthirsty invaders.
“That is Strathmore village. Most of the castle servants live in the village and walk up the hill each morning to come to work,” explained Hugh, pointing to the small collection of buildings in front of the castle.
Mighty though the imposing structure was, Mary’s gaze was now drawn to the mountain beyond the castle. It dominated all that lay before it. Strathmore Mountain rose high into the sky. Its snow-capped shoulders were visible, but its peak was shrouded in thick, menacing cloud.
Mary shivered, imagining how bitterly cold it would be up on the mountain. She looked back at Hugh. “I now understand why you were so insistent on buying me that fur-lined hat.”
Hugh’s generous gift of winter clothing would be put to good use during her stay at Strathmore Castle.
After passing through the village, where the coach slowed down to make way for the local inhabitants on foot, and where Hugh waved out the window to everyone, they crossed over the castle’s heavy wooden drawbridge and through the gateway.
Adelaide fussed with her hair as the coach entered the courtyard and drew to a halt in front of the main steps of the keep. “How do I look?”
Her husband leaned over and placed a kiss on her cheek. “Enchanteur comme toujours,” he murmured.
Mary felt close to tears. Charles thought his wife enchanting. With such sweet endearments, it was little wonder that a minor nobleman from France had managed to capture the heart of a duke’s daughter.
The door of the coach was opened by a heavily set gentleman with a long white and gray beard, who poked his head inside. Mary sat back in alarm; he must have been close to seven feet tall. A giant of a man.
“Wylcome. Well then, who would we be a havin’ here?” he asked.
Hugh leaned forward. “A son and daughter of the house. Family and friend.”
The gentleman looked around the carriage and stood for a moment, scratching his beard. “Hmm. I canna sae I know you. The only other son of the house was lost long ago,” he replied.
Mary cast her gaze from the gentleman to Hugh and back again. She suspected there was some sort of byplay happening, but everyone was keeping a straight face.
Hugh broke first. “One Christmas. I missed one Christmas—am I never to be forgiven?”
He launched himself out of the carriage and into the embrace of the huge man, who wrapped him in a bear hug.
“Lord Hugh? Why, I didn’t recognize ya. The prodigal son has returned!” he cried.
Charles climbed out next and then helped Adelaide down. She held Will in her arms. At the sight of her, the man-mountain set Hugh aside and bowed low.
“Wylcome home, Lady Adelaide,” he said.
Adelaide immediately handed her firstborn over to him. As Will’s eyes settled on the hulking stranger who held him, Mary gripped the door of the carriage. Any moment now she expected the infant to be registering his protest. Instead, he softly gurgled and wrapped his hand as best as he could around one of the man’s thick fingers.
“So, this is William. He is a fine bairn. He is as hairy as a wild mountain boar!”
Mary laughed, but her mirth quickly died when the man mountain caught her eye. With Will still safely held in the crook of his arm, he reached out a hand to her. A blushing Mary took it and stepped down into the castle courtyard.
A murmur rippled through the other castle servants who had gathered over the past minute or so. Mary caught a whispered, “Who is that?”
It only took a sideways glance from him in the direction of the gathered servants, and they all fell silent.
“Wylcome to Strathmore Castle,” he said.
Hugh hurried to Mary’s side. “Master Crowdie, may I present my guest, Miss Mary Gray of Cambridge.”
Having never met many lords or ladies, Mary was not completely au fait with the rules of noble society, but she knew enough to understand that if Hugh was addressing Master Crowdie in such a manner, then he must be an important man.
“Mary, Master Crowdie is the steward of Strathmore Castle. Nothing happens within the walls of the castle and the village without his say so,” explained Hugh.
“Really? And here was I thinking I was in charge.” A tall fair-haired man stepped up to Hugh and slapped him hard on the back.
Hugh embraced the interloper. “Brother.”
Ewan Radley, Duke of Strathmore, was dressed exactly how Mary had imagined a Scottish lord would be, right down to the tartan kilt and thick black coat. She recognized the bl
ack, gray, and blue of the Strathmore plaid from the scarf which Hugh regularly wore.
“And you brought a surprise for me—excellent,” said Ewan.
Mary dipped into her best curtsey as the duke caught her gaze. Her left knee wavered as she rose, and Ewan stepped forward to stop her from toppling over. He held her gaze as well as her arm, and she immediately noticed the similarity between him and Hugh. There was no mistaking that they were brothers.
“Your grace,” she said.
“So, you are Miss Gray. I have heard a lot about you over the past few years. May I offer my condolences on the passing of your father.”
She accepted his kind words with a smile. “Thank you.”
Ewan then looked to Adelaide. “Unless you have a duke and duchess hidden in your luggage, I take it that Anne and Mowbray will not be joining us for Christmas?”
Adelaide shook her head. “Don’t get me started on the pair of them. With their constant rows, I am glad that Mowbray threw a tantrum and refused to come. I am certain I would have murdered the pair of them within an hour of us leaving London if they had graced us with their company.”
Hugh offered Mary his arm and the travel party followed Ewan over to the steps of the keep. Assembled on the steps was a trio of women. All three wore Strathmore tartan sashes over blue woolen gowns.
The youngest of the women, who Mary guessed was Caroline, the Duchess of Strathmore, was holding a wriggling toddler in her arms. As the arrivals approached, she handed the child over to a nursemaid and headed down the stairs. She greeted her family members with hugs and kisses before fussing over baby Will who had been safely retrieved by his father.
“It is so good to see you all. I hope the journey north wasn’t too taxing on you,” she said. Her eyes were fixed on Will as she spoke the words.
“He slept most of the way, for which I am eternally grateful,” replied Adelaide.
“Wait until he is a toddler. David has almost inexhaustible energy,” replied Caroline.
When Caroline turned to Hugh, he stepped forward with Mary. At that moment, the other women made their way down to them.