Peggy’s Love: The Victorian Highlanders Book 5

by St. Clair, Ellie

  “Here we are,” said Mrs. McPhee, bustling toward them at the door. “So lovely to see the both of ye. It’s been too long, it has. We’ll get ye settled, and then, Peggy, we’ll get to work, as it were. Away we go.”

  Times had changed, thought Rory as he stared after them. At one point in time, the idea of the chieftain’s daughter helping around a keep would have been unheard of. But now, they were lucky that they were able to maintain their good fortune, thanks to the changes they had made.

  He also found his gaze wandering from the three women down to Peggy’s delectable backside, as it swayed back and forth from beneath her plaid skirts. This was why she shouldn’t be here.

  But her mother was here as a chaperone, he reminded himself, so what could go wrong?

  * * *

  By dinner that night, Peggy was already exhausted. Not only from the physical exertions of preparing the house for the hunting party’s arrival tomorrow but from listening so intently to Mrs. McPhee’s every order. How the woman did this day after day, Peggy had no idea. Well, one thing was certain — she didn’t have to worry about being bored any longer.

  Her mother had listened distractedly for the first hour or so, before she excused herself to her chamber. Peggy was sure that she was now happily ensconced in a book, reading in front of the fire, and enjoying this time to herself. She knocked on her door now, opening it at Jane’s soft “Enter.”

  She was right. There her mother was, curled up in a large brown leather chair, a red plaid thrown over her legs.

  Jane looked up with a smile when Peggy entered.

  “How was your day, love?”

  Peggy threw herself backward on the large bed under the corner canopy. “Exhausting.”

  Jane looked at her with some sympathy.

  “Wait until everyone arrives.”

  “Mrs. McPhee said then the girls do most of the work, while she primarily oversees everything.”

  “Which can be more exhausting than actually working yourself,” Jane said, a finger in the air.

  “And how do you know so much about this?”

  “Lass, I’ve been running a house since long before ye were born,” Jane said with a chuckle, placing her book on her lap now as she gave Peggy her full attention.

  “How do you do it?” Peggy asked, looking at her with astonishment, and Jane shrugged.

  “The work grows on you, I suppose. You have help, ’tis true, and you simply do it because ye have to. There really is no other choice. And it becomes somewhat routine after a time, making it much easier.”

  “I suppose that is true,” Peggy said thoughtfully.

  “Now,” her mother said with a bit more of a commanding air, “tell me of your feelings for Rory.”

  Peggy sat up suddenly, holding herself up on her elbows as she stared at her mother in astonishment.

  “Pardon me?”

  “You heard what I said,” Jane replied with a soft chuckle. “A mother is well aware of when her daughter bestows her affections on a man. I know you have been infatuated with him since you were a girl, but things are different now, are they not?”

  Peggy could only stare at her mother. How had she known? And so accurately guessed what Peggy was thinking and feeling? At first, she opened her mouth to deny and argue her mother’s words, but she could tell from Jane’s knowing gaze that there was no point. Instead, she sighed dramatically.

  “You are right, of course. You always are,” she said, shaking her head. “But honestly, I don’t know what to tell you. Rory is a man of life, of fire, and I enjoy his company immensely, ’tis true. I know full well he is not the type of man to make a good husband, and yet I canna pull myself away from him. But that is not why I decided to come here, Mother. If anything, I want to distance myself from him. But this was the chance to do something important, to contribute to this family, and I wanted to take it.”

  “Those are noble words, Peggy, they are,” Jane said, tilting her head to the side as she contemplated her daughter. “And I agree with you that Rory has shown some… tendencies in the past that would perhaps disqualify him from making you a fine husband. But perhaps you’re being too harsh.”

  “What?”

  That was certainly not what Peggy had been expecting.

  “People make mistakes, Peggy, they do,” she said gently. “And Rory seems to be turning his life around, making a difference. Look what he’s done here. Why, a few years ago, the boy could hardly make himself available for a family meeting or an urgent matter in the village. We all despaired of what would happen with the MacTavish clan. It has worked well allying ourselves with them, ’tis true, but I am no longer worried about what would become of this clan without the McDougalls. He works hard, and yet maintains his smile.”

  Peggy was astonished at her mother’s defense of Rory. He himself would be taken aback by her words, but this was certainly not a conversation that she was about to share with him. She had no wish for him to know that she was speaking of him with her mother.

  She looked down at her hands now before meeting her mother’s wise gaze. “He, however, does not look at me in the same way. To him, I am nothing but Kyla’s friend and the sister of his friends and business partners.”

  “Are you sure about that?” Jane asked gently, and Peggy looked at her with surprise.

  “Of course,” she responded. “If he thought anything different, why would he not say anything or act upon it?”

  Jane shrugged. “Perhaps for the very reasons you just listed. You are not a woman that he would trifle with, but instead one that if he pursues, it could only be with the most serious of intentions. It could be that while he is attracted to you, he is not quite ready to make such a commitment.”

  “So what do I do?”

  Peggy sat cross-legged on the bed now, looking at her mother, perplexed. While Peggy would never have broached this subject without her mother raising it, if anyone would have the answers, it would be Jane. She always seemed to know the best course.

  “Follow where your heart leads,” Jane said gently, and Peggy waited for more but Jane said nothing else.

  “What does that mean?” Peggy asked with a snort. “If I follow my heart then I may just make a perfectly good fool of myself.”

  “What is worse?” Jane asked. “To not say anything and always wonder what could have been? Or to know that you did all you could?”

  Peggy sighed. Her mother might be right, but that didn’t make this any easier.

  She thought on Jane’s words as she changed and dressed for dinner, the last night she wouldn’t be in the kitchen and walking around the floor, ensuring that all was in order. It would only be four of them dining, so there wouldn’t be much to learn.

  She and her mother sat across one of the long tables from Rory. The other seats were empty tonight, but they sat in a corner near the roaring fire in the hearth, and somehow it seemed much more intimate. A far cry from Galbury to be sure, but lovely all the same.

  It was only a moment before they heard steps on the stairs, and Rory’s father, Niall MacTavish, bestowed a small smile upon them as he sat down next to his son.

  “I had heard that we would be blessed with a couple of lovely women, but I had forgotten how beautiful the two of you are.”

  Jane smiled politely, though she was always a bit hesitant when it came to Niall, and Peggy could understand why. While Duncan and Niall were friends, there was also an unspoken rivalry between the pair of them, and Duncan had always seemed to come out ahead.

  “Niall,” Jane said, “always a pleasure to see you again.”

  Peggy knew from Kyla that Niall didn’t have much of a head for business. In fact, it was Kyla who did most of the management of the MacTavish clan and estates before she had married Finlay, and even now, she still oversaw the books as part of their agreement with one another. Niall spent much of his time in the village, playing cards or at the pub. If he was home, particularly if a hunting party was in, he could typically be found ups
tairs in his own chambers.

  Peggy was far more awkward now that she was aware that her mother knew the truth of her feelings toward Rory.

  They spoke of nothing in particular — the weather, village gossip, that sort of thing — and Mrs. McPhee came and joined them for a few minutes before she went to prepare for bed, as she said she would be off early in the morning.

  Before long Niall had retired as well, and Jane sat for a moment, her eyes on the two of them before she excused herself, with a meaningful look at Peggy — one that only a mother could give, which said both to heed her advice while also being careful. Peggy nodded her understanding, and soon it was just her and Rory.

  Peggy shifted on the hard bench, and Rory seemed to sense her discomfort.

  “It’s not exactly the softened seats of Galbury, is it?”

  “That’s not it at all,” Peggy said, shaking her head, not wanting him to believe she thought his own home to be anything lesser. “I’ve just worked harder today than I’m used to, I suppose, and my body’s tired.”

  “Aye, preparing for the guests is always a wearisome job.” He nodded. “I’ve done it a time or two myself when Mrs. McPhee needed help.”

  “You made up beds?”

  He laughed. “Is that really so hard to believe?”

  “Actually, aye, ’tis,” she said with a wink. “Ye strike me as the type who would hardly ever make up your bed in the morning, let alone someone else’s.”

  He lifted his chin from where it rested on his fist and pointed at her. “Ye got me.”

  “I didn’t mean that in a bad way, Rory, I just—”

  “I understand, Peg, I do,” he said. “I’ve changed the past couple of years. I was a reckless youth, I know. I don’t know why. Perhaps not having a mother, my father not really caring — but that’s not much of an excuse, as Kyla, we all know, turned out just perfect.”

  Peggy laughed ruefully. Kyla truly was perfection in most ways. She loved her as a sister, and yet sometimes it was difficult not to compare herself to the woman who so efficiently managed two clans with Finlay.

  “But seeing her, with her family, as well as spending time with your family, well, it’s opened my eyes a bit,” Rory said his eyes currently unfocused, looking into the distance. “When I travel, I’m around people all the time, and yet I’m lonely. Even here, when Darfield is filled with hunters, sometimes with their families, I feel as though I am completely alone.”

  He smiled self-consciously, and Peggy knew he was not used to opening himself up like this to anyone. She felt privileged he had chosen to do so with her.

  “I’m gettin’ all soft, aren’t I, Peg? You look tired. You can barely keep your head above your chest. I’ll leave ye to your sleep, and see you in the morning, for it will be a big day for us all.”

  He stood, and as he passed around her side of the table, he reached out a hand. She thought he was going to take her face with it, though to do what, she wasn’t entirely sure. To kiss her? But instead, he rested his hand on the top of her head, kneading it slightly into her hair — like one would a child.

  She smiled tightly as he absently lifted his hand and sauntered out the door, leaving her staring after him. Her mother had been right. She should have told him how she felt. But for once he had spoken to her like an equal, like a friend, perhaps, as more than a girl, and she liked how it felt. She hadn’t wanted to ruin it.

  And now she was left with her feelings once more. She sighed, swung her weary legs down off the bench, and lifted the candle to find the way to her chamber.

  Chapter 12

  The next few days went by quickly as a large hunting party visited from Perth. They were Lowlanders, but close enough to the Highlands that Rory felt akin to them more than most of the previous hunting parties who had visited. He enjoyed his time with them, both while hunting and afterward as he would sit with them and entertain while they ate and drank once the day was through.

  He noted how hard Peggy was working, and he encouraged the girls to help her as best they could. They were agreeable, but they didn’t have the same investment in this place as he or even Peggy did. Jane helped Peggy some, but he knew, for Peggy had told him, that her mother had been clear that this was Peggy’s responsibility, and she was simply here as a chaperone.

  Peggy’s main role was to direct the rest of them who were working for her, but she had the McDougall work ethic and couldn’t help but throw herself into whatever task needed doing, be it helping in the kitchens, serving, or making up a room for a visitor.

  He hoped to spend more time with her, but every night he would watch her take to her room, exhausted.

  Rory didn’t want to admit, especially to himself, just how much he enjoyed being in her presence. Even the other night, he had told her far more than he ever would have another. Why, he wasn’t sure. He had always felt comfortable with her, and it seemed like a natural extension of their friendship.

  Friendship. For that was all it could be.

  And yet, when he had looked across the table at her, she had seemed to call to him with her wide, deep-blue eyes. They had been tired, but something else also lurked there, something that he wasn’t entirely sure had anything to do with him, though part of him hoped it did.

  He had nearly reached out, cupped her lovely, intriguing face in his hands, and bent down to kiss her. Even now, he closed his eyes and imagined doing so, which caused his entire body to burn. He could practically feel her lush, red lips under his, could sense how responsive to him she would be. He shouldn’t think such a thing as he sat here at a table in his dining hall, surrounded by tourists. He closed his eyes, attempting to banish the image from his mind, but when he opened them, they were still filled with her, as there she was in front of him, clearing plates from the tables. Even under her skirt and apron, he could see her curves — her wide hips, her full breasts, her round bottom.

  Rory looked around to see if anyone had noticed him staring, but was struck when he realized that he was not the only one watching her. He saw a few interested gazes from the hunters, and he nearly rose out of his chair to challenge them all, to tell them to leave off, that she was his and they had no right to look at her that way.

  Except that she wasn’t his, and he shouldn’t be her protector, besides the fact that he was watching out for her while she was here at Darfield. Once she left, she would be back home and it would be as it always was. Until her next visit. Good Lord, how could he continue to be tortured like this? He wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep away from her, and he had no idea what he was going to do about it.

  You could make her your own woman.

  He looked around him for a moment before realizing that the voice came not from anyone else, but from inside his own head. He shook it hard, wondering if he was going mad.

  “Ye all right, son?”

  It was not his father asking him — no, his father was far removed to some card game at the village bar, he was sure, certainly nowhere around here.

  It was one of the Lowlanders, here for the hunt. Fraser Reid was the leader of the group, Rory supposed, and it was his second time here. The first had been with his family, and now he had brought a full group with him.

  “Fine, Reid,” he said with a smile. “Just woolgathering, I suppose you could say.”

  “Would it be fair to say your thoughts are regarding a woman?” he asked, his eyebrows raised and his lips turned upward, and Rory could only laugh.

  “Mayhap.”

  Another man joined him, his hair darker than Fraser Reid’s, his skin smoother with fewer lines, but it was still nearly the same face that stared back at him.

  “Brodie,” Rory said with a nod. “How did you fare today?”

  “Very well,” Fraser’s son responded. “These are plentiful woodlands you have here, and you are excellent hosts, you MacTavishes — and McDougalls. Now tell me,” Brodie leaned in. “The McDougall lass there, the one who greeted us, who showed us to our chambers — is she spok
en for?”

  Rory swallowed hard. No, she was not spoken for. And Brodie Reid seemed to be a good man. He was pleasant, had been nearly like a friend to him while they were out hunting, was a man he could see himself getting on well with. But at his question… suddenly Brodie changed into someone else entirely before his eyes. A rival. A man out to take advantage of a Highlander woman he met while on tour. Rory wasn’t about to let him get the better of Peggy.

  “She is…” he cleared his throat, “she is not available to tourists.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?” Brodie asked, his expression somewhat hardening.

  “I only mean she is not that kind of woman,” Rory said, spreading his hands out before him. “She is the kind of woman who is a man’s one-and-only. She’s the marrying type, if ye understand me, and nothing more.”

  Brodie let out a bark of laughter. “Rory, I meant no offense,” he said, smacking a hand on the table in front of him. “I wouldn’t press myself on any woman who didn’t want me, and I’m completely open to marriage. In fact, I have been for some time now, but haven’t found the right woman. Perhaps it was because she wasn’t in Perth, but she was waiting for me here.”

  Rory glowered at him, though he had no right to do so. For Brodie was a good man, and life in Perth might be what Peggy was looking for. It would provide her with the excitement of the city while not taking her too far from home. Brodie could be the type of man who she could rely on, who would do right by her.

  So why did he want to jump across the table and pummel him?

  Silence stretched between them until Fraser finally slapped a hand on his son’s shoulder.

  “Brodie,” he said, “the lass is a beauty, ’tis true, and I can see why you would be interested. Hell, if I were younger and not entirely in love with your mother…. But son, perhaps she may not be spoken for, but clearly the man across from you has some intentions of his own, can ye not see it?”