Despite the increasingly fraught atmosphere, Flora was happier in her marriage than she had ever been and had even accompanied Lachlan on a couple of business trips to secure lucrative new markets for Carnmore Whisky and to investigate ways to set up their charity. But their absence from the castle led to more friction with Anna who felt so unsafe left at Lochmore on her own with just Davy and the servants that she eventually begged Flora to help her persuade Lachlan to see sense and allow her to return to Glasgow. Lachlan, however, would not hear of it.
‘She will soon change her mind,’ he said when Flora tried to reason with him. ‘They belong here with us, where I can take care of them.’
Flora, however, understood only too well how impotent Anna must feel when Lachlan ignored her feelings and desires, dismissing her needs over his.
‘Anna is entitled to her views, Lachlan. You cannot make her stay against her wishes.’
‘How can you deny they are better off here? Look at what we can offer them. She’ll get used to Lochmore. She just needs time.’
And despite Flora’s growing love for her husband, his intransigence where his sister was concerned raised niggles of doubt in her mind. Although he appeared to value Flora’s opinion, did he truly do so? He dismissed her warnings about Anna out of hand. He gave no credence to his sister’s repeated requests to move back to Glasgow. He behaved, in those instances, as Flora’s father had done all his life.
‘You are being stubborn, Lachlan. If you do not take care, you will drive Anna away and then you will lose her and Davy again. Look at it from Anna’s point of view—she is a grown woman. Surely she is entitled to have her views taken into account? You are in danger of smothering her with your need to protect her.’
‘I’ve said all I intend to say on the matter.’
Chapter Nineteen
One afternoon, some three weeks after Anna had come to live at the Castle, Flora came across a frantic Tilly, scurrying along the upper corridor.
‘Tilly? What is wrong?’
‘Oh, milady! Master Davy—he slipped away when I wasn’t looking. I don’t know where he is. I thought he might have come up here.’
A huge, terrified sob erupted from her and Flora gripped her shoulders, giving her a little shake. ‘Where did you last see him?’
‘We were in the ballroom, milady.’ Her face flushed. ‘I know we shouldn’t be in there, but there’s room for him to run around when it is cold outside. I didn’t think there’d be any harm in it. Bandit was there, too, and Master Davy had his ball and his skittles and his little wooden engine. I only—’ She clapped her hands to her face and wailed loudly.
‘Hush, Tilly. Where is Mrs McKenzie?’
‘Resting, milady. She had the headache. Oh, milady! Where can the poor little mite be?’
‘Try to stay calm, Tilly. He’s probably just followed Bandit somewhere. He must be somewhere in the house—he is too small to open any of the outer doors. You search up here and I shall go downstairs and have another look.’
Flora ran down the staircase and to the ballroom. The huge double doors were standing open and there, in the middle of the room, lay Davy’s abandoned toys. Through the French windows that had been cut into the thick outer wall Flora caught sight of two gardeners, sweeping the paths in the knot garden. One of them straightened and looked towards her. His grin froze on his face and Flora’s brows arched. No doubt he was the reason Tilly became distracted.
She turned away, then gasped, fear clutching her heart. The door below the minstrels’ gallery looked shut, but it was unlatched. Heart in mouth, she rushed to the door, beyond which were the spiral stairs that led down to the cellars. She’d not been in the tunnels since Lachlan had taken her down there, but she remembered the vaulted stone ceilings and the tunnels that led, maze-like, under the castle. If Davy got lost down there, he would be petrified.
Every instinct she possessed was urging her on...screaming at her to hurry. She felt around for the candle, struck a match on the sandpaper block to light it and sped down the spiral steps.
Which way?
‘Davy? Are you down here? Bandit?’
Her voice echoed back at her, sending a shiver down her spine. There’d been no time for Lachlan to replace the rotten doors as he’d intended. Bandit loved the beach and, having been down here before, would surely head straight for the Sea Gate. If Davy was following him... She shielded the candle flame against draughts and raced along the tunnel, grateful for the faint wash of daylight ahead that guided her. She ran on, panting now, to where her tunnel met another. Stronger light to her right sent her in that direction and she at last reached the end. She ran out on to the rocks and around the jutting pinnacle that disguised the Sea Gate from the beach. Frantic now, she scanned the rocks, the steps and the beach.
There he was!
Davy was on the beach, Bandit prancing around his heels, as they both headed for the sea.
Her swell of relief gave way to concern as she took in the wind-whipped, white-topped waves.
‘Davy!’ she screamed. ‘Stay there!’
Heedless now of her own safety and cursing her full, unwieldy skirts, Flora raced as fast as she could down the steps to the sand. Davy had halted, looking back at her, his mouth turned down and, as she neared him, she saw the tears begin to fall. She snatched him into her arms, hugging him close, relishing the warm weight of him.
‘Oh, Davy! Don’t you ever wander off like that again, do you hear?’ She hugged him even closer, pressing her lips to his wispy curls. A howl erupted from him and she jiggled him a bit, hushing him as Bandit danced around her feet yapping. ‘It’s all right. Auntie Flora isn’t cross. I was just scared.’ She turned back to the castle, suddenly aware of the freezing cold wind that blew in off the sea and the gathering clouds. ‘Let’s get back indoors quickly,’ she said, kissing his cheek. ‘We shall ask Cook for some hot chocolate to warm us up, shall we?’
She began to plod back across the sand, Davy balanced on her hip, Bandit bounding around her, tongue hanging out, stubby tail constantly on the move.
‘Davy!’
Even at that distance Flora could hear the utter terror in Anna’s scream. She flew down the path to the beach and snatched Davy from Flora so violently Flora almost unbalanced.
‘I hate this place!’ Anna shrieked. ‘We’re leaving. Today!’
And with that she stumbled away from Flora, heading back to the castle. Flora followed her through the chapel gate, unable to face the narrow spiral stairs that always brought back scary memories of when she found her brooch.
By the time she got home, the castle was in an uproar. Servants were scurrying about in nervous silence and Lachlan, a thunderous look on his face, grabbed Flora’s arm as soon as she appeared, guiding her into his study and shutting the door behind him with a decisive bang.
‘What happened? Anna is raging about it not being safe here.’
Flora recited the events of that afternoon. ‘Anna was frantic. Lachlan, I did try to warn you about—’
The door flew open, cutting off Flora’s words. Anna marched in and plonked her hands on her hips, glaring at Lachlan.
‘My poor wee laddie is beside himself, crying his eyes out. Ye can loan us the carriage or we’ll walk, Lachlan, but either way we’re going and ye canna stop us.’
* * *
Lachlan crossed the room in two strides, grabbing Anna’s shoulders, feeling like he’d been punched in the gut. ‘You can’t go, Anna. We have only just found each other. You belong here with us...we’re your family.’
‘Davy is my family and it’s not safe here for him.’
‘Of course it’s safe. This is the perfect place for Davy to grow up. You’ve had a shock. You’ll see things differently when you’ve calmed down.’
She averted her face. ‘This isna my home. It’ll never be my home.’
He must
keep trying to get her to see sense. ‘How can you know that? You’ve only been here a few weeks.’
He ignored Flora’s soft, ‘Lachlan...’, and her hand on his arm.
‘You’re upset now. At least wait until the spring.’ His full focus was on his sister. ‘You’ll see it differently then.’
Anna stared at him. ‘It’ll make no difference to me. I dinna want my laddie to settle, only to uproot him again.’
Frustration boiled through him. ‘But where would you go? Not...not back to Hopkins?’
‘Of course not, Lachy. I’m nae fool.’ Anna jerked away and Flora grabbed Lachlan’s arm to prevent him taking hold of his sister again. ‘I hate it here.’
‘Tell me what to do to make it better then. I’ll do anything.’
Anna rolled her eyes. ‘Will ye never listen to me, you stupid stubborn oaf? I dinna want to stay here with you. I want to begin a life of my own, with Davy.’
Lachlan turned to Flora. ‘Say something, Flora. Persuade her to stay. Please.’
Anna laughed bitterly. ‘Your fine lady wife willna be sorry to see the back of us, Lachy. Ye can dress a whore in fancy clothes, but she’ll always be a whore.’
Flora looked as stunned as if Anna had slapped her. ‘Anna, that’s unfair. I have never—’
‘But you think it! I know you do! Every time you look at me.’
‘You’re wrong, Anna. When has Flora ever given you a reason to think she doesn’t accept you?’
Anna snorted. ‘It’s only a matter of time. Her sort will never accept my sort. Anyway, it makes no difference now. I hate all this space and the quiet and the weather. I’ve made up my mind.’
‘You can’t just leave.’ He grasped any straw he could think of. ‘Give me time to find you somewhere to live. I’ll find you a place in the new year—’
‘If ye think I’ll stay here until after Hogmanay, Lachlan, you’ve got rocks in your head.’
‘But you can’t wander the streets with a child in tow.’
‘It’s no use trying to talk me out of it, Lachy. My mind is made up.’
He gazed at Flora, willing her to say something...anything...to sway his stubborn sister, but all she did was offer a rueful smile with a sympathetic lift of her brows.
‘Well, you’ll not go alone. I’ll come with you and find you somewhere respectable to live. I can give you an allowance—’
‘No, Lachy. I have my pride. Come with us to Glasgow tomorrow and find us somewhere to live if you must. I’ll accept an amount to tide me over, but I willna accept more of your charity.’
She marched to the door, then paused before leaving the room. ‘Thank you for rescuing us, though. Never think I’m not grateful to ye, for I am.’
Lachlan could scarcely believe what had just happened. He’d truly believed they were set for life...that Anna and Davy would settle here at Lochmore with him and Flora. Now, he felt as though his heart was being ripped from his body. He turned to Flora, quietly watching him.
‘Why didn’t you help me persuade her to stay? Or is she right? Do you want her gone?’
Flora frowned. ‘That is unfair, Lachlan. I have been nothing but friendly and welcoming to your sister. It is Anna who won’t accept me.’
Rather than soothing him, her voice of reason stirred anger, deep in his gut. And mixed with that anger was fear and all his old insecurities—the ones he thought he’d banished for good—reared up. He wasn’t even good enough for his own sister—how could he ever be good enough for an earl’s daughter? His spirits plunged, deep and dark...the whole thing seemed so futile. He would never be good enough...
Flora came to him with quick steps and an anxious look, reaching for his hand. ‘I tried to warn you what would happen if you pushed her too far, but you refused to even listen to what she had to say or to try to understand. I—’
He ignored her gasp as he snatched his hand away.
‘Lachlan... I am sorry, but you need to accept that Anna is no longer your little sister—she is a grown woman and a mother and she is capable of making her own decisions. If she chooses to leave, you cannot stop her.’
Lachlan forced his chin up, blanking his expression.
‘You’re right. It is her decision. Now, if you will excuse me, I have work to do.’
He knew his cold response would hurt her and at some level he was aware he was being unreasonable, but he felt incapable of considering her feelings when his own were in such turmoil.
‘I know it will hurt, but if you help her now and you part as friends, you will not lose Anna or Davy.’
‘Thank you for your advice.’
He turned his back, selecting some random papers from his desk and pretending to be absorbed in them. It was not until he heard the soft click of the door as it closed behind Flora that he moved, dashing the papers to the desk before crossing with leaden steps to the window where he gazed blindly out, his thoughts blank.
He had no idea how long he stood there, but the clock striking six finally penetrated his misery and he went upstairs to change for dinner.
* * *
The meal was eaten in silence and the two women he loved withdrew to the drawing room, leaving Lachlan with his bleak thoughts and his whisky. When he finally followed them to the drawing room it was empty and he climbed the stairs to his bedchamber. He felt so helpless. Why would Anna not listen to him?
He undressed swiftly and went to Flora, longing to lose himself in her soft, slippery heat.
‘Lachlan.’
The pleasure in her voice and the welcoming smile on her face were balm to his soul.
He did not want to talk. Even though he suspected he was being unfair, he couldn’t help but blame Flora for clearly supporting Anna’s decision. All he wanted now was to forget everything. He set about ensuring his wife was fully satisfied before thrusting inside her and reaching his own climax. He groaned at his release and then kissed her soundly, but as soon as she turned in his arms to snuggle into him, reality impinged again. He sat up and swung his legs out of the bed.
‘Lachlan?’
The puzzled hesitation in that single word wrenched at his heart, but he could not bring himself to offer her comfort, not when he was so cut up inside.
‘Yes?’ He sat on the edge of the bed, his back to her.
‘Have I...? You do not...? Please tell me you do not blame me for Anna wanting to leave. I promise I have done nothing to encourage her to go.’
‘Of course I don’t blame you.’ But he could not fully forgive her for taking Anna’s side. ‘But I am not tired so I shall go downstairs and read for a while until I’m sleepy. I’ll sleep in my own room tonight so I don’t disturb you.’
He looked back at her then, forced a smile and swiftly kissed her lips. Part of him wanted nothing more than to settle down with her in his arms but the other part was busily retreating and rebuilding those barriers between them. And he had no idea how to stop it.
Chapter Twenty
Flora played a few scales on the pianoforte to loosen her fingers ready to play. Lachlan was at the distillery. He went most days since their return from Glasgow, where they had settled Anna and Davy in a neat four-storey Georgian town house in a respectable street. Flora had come up with the idea of Anna taking in lodgers to give her an income. Anna had been grateful for a sensible solution to her need to earn a living, but Lachlan was unhappy that Flora had made it easier for Anna to be independent.
Flora sorted through her music. She wasn’t in the mood for a delicate, happy tune—she needed a robust piece to work out her frustrations and worries about her husband. She couldn’t get through to him. He seemed to be slowly but inexorably slipping away from her. Ever since Anna left Lochmore he had seemed to retreat further into himself every day, yet whenever Flora tried to talk to him about it, he insisted there was nothing wrong. The intimacy that had been so
hard won seemed to be fading away and Flora had no idea what to do about it.
Or maybe, she thought—gritting her teeth as she bashed out a few thunderous passages from Chopin’s Revolutionary Etude—she had fooled herself into believing she and Lachlan were falling in love after he had finally confided in her and told her the full story of his past. Maybe, like her father, he didn’t value her opinions at all and it had all been an act to dupe her into accepting Anna and Davy into their home. Now he no longer needed to keep up the pretence because his sister had gone.
Tears burned behind her eyes. She forced herself to play on even though the score had blurred and false notes reverberated around the room. She didn’t want to believe it, but why did he, once again, hold her at arm’s length? Emotionally, if not physically, for he still visited her bed most nights. But even that was not the same, for she could sense he was holding back, even when they were in the throes of passion. And it broke her heart when she compared their recent lovemaking to that of the first few weeks after Anna and Davy had come to Lochmore. It was the difference—and she blushed at the crude comparison—between riding a horse of warm flesh and blood, and sitting astride a stone wall. Every human emotion was battened down as he went through the motions and, try as she might, she could not coax him into releasing them.
Lachlan had thrown himself back into his work and he had shut her out while pretending he had not. She again felt isolated in her own home—afraid of speaking out in case she said the wrong thing. She was back in the situation she had most feared and seemed helpless to do anything to remedy it.
She played on to the end of the piece, uncaring of the number of times her fingers stumbled over the passages. As the final notes faded and the silence descended, Flora reached a decision. She flatly refused to revert to that timid bride, scared to speak up for herself.
His Convenient Highland Wedding Page 21