“Aye,” Nora agreed, eying the girls with a sharp gaze. “There’s promise in the new arrangement. Some might like it better, if they’d a mind to.”
Hugh nodded. He would wait to address this issue with the girls, but he would have plenty to say when he did.
He covered Caitriona’s hand with his own and forced a smile. “Let’s eat, then.”
For all of the tension emanating from Devon and Christina, the meal was spritely with conversation, thanks mainly to Sophia and Nora. They bantered with one another, asked numerous questions of Caitriona, shared all the local gossip they could think of, and generally kept everyone smiling. Except Christina and Devon, who were mutinously silent.
Why would they wish him to be angry with his wife? He watched as Sophia urged Triona to tell a story about her childhood. Caitriona’s face lit up as she revealed how she and her siblings had mistakenly used one of the good sheets as a curtain for a play and had accidentally spilled paint on it, and the madness that ensued trying to hide it from their mother. Everyone at the table gasped with laughter, except the girls.
Outside, the weather was cold and drizzly, but inside, bathed in the warm glow of brass lamps and Caitriona’s musical laughter, all was warm and golden. That was what she had brought to his life.
As soon as they could, Devon and her sisters excused themselves from the table. Hugh quietly informed them he’d soon be up to speak with them. They exchanged glances, but nodded and said their goodbyes. He watched them leave, feeling guilty. He’d been so worried about protecting the girls that he hadn’t thought about Caitriona getting hurt. But from now on, Gilmerton would be a peaceable kingdom.
Caitriona had made the effort, and the rest of them would as well.
The low fire in the nursery put off more light than heat. Christina shoveled a scoop of coal into the iron door, closed it, and locked it tight. The flames immediately leapt up, pouring forth warmth. She smiled at her sisters. “I like the new furnaces Papa installed.”
Aggie, who occupied the far end of the settee, surrounded by three of her favorite dolls and tucked about with her favorite blanket, bobbed her blond curls. “It’s much warmer.”
Devon slouched at the other end of the settee, her arms crossed over her narrow chest, her mouth turned down in a scowl.
Christina’s gaze narrowed as she regarded her sister. After a moment, she went to sit beside her. “Out with it, nuisance. Something is bothering you.”
Devon sent her a sidelong glance, but didn’t move. “Maybe.”
“It’s breakfast, isn’t it?”
“Yes! We worked so hard, and Papa should have been furious!” Devon scowled. “That woman is a witch. She has put a spell on him.”
“There are no witches.”
“What about Old Woman Nora? Everyone says she’s one!”
“They say she’s a white witch. They’re not dangerous.”
“Well, her granddaughter is a dark witch, and she’s very dangerous.”
Aggie looked up from her dolls. “I don’t think she’s a witch. I think she’s sad.”
“What do you know about it?” Devon snapped.
Aggie said stoutly, “More than you! I know she has three brothers and two sisters, and that she’s the oldest and has always taken care of everyone, which is how she ended up married to Papa! I know, too, that she misses her home.”
Christina frowned. “How do you know all of that?”
“She doesn’t,” Devon sniffed.
“I do, too! I know lots about her—more than you do.” Aggie eyed her sisters with a frown. “You two moved the furniture, didn’t you?”
“What if we did?” Devon demanded. “She deserves it.”
Aggie’s brows lowered. “I don’t think she does. I know you think she’s been mean to Papa, but…” She fingered the lace edge of her doll’s elaborate gown before lifting tear-filled eyes to her oldest sister. “Christina, what if our being mean to her has made her lonely?”
Surprised, Christina scooted closer, wrapped an arm about Aggie, and hugged her. “Why on earth would you think that?”
Aggie shrugged, her gaze locked on her doll.
Christina regarded Aggie for a moment, then withdrew her arm. “Fine. If you won’t tell me what you know, then I suppose I don’t have to tell you what I know.”
Aggie’s head jerked up as if pulled by a string. “What do you know?”
“Oh, something I overheard Papa say to Uncle Dougal. You won’t want to know. It’s just about”—she paused dramatically—“the curse.”
Aggie’s eyes widened. “The MacLean curse? You heard Papa mention it?”
Christina nodded.
“He never mentions it.”
Christina waited.
Aggie fingered the edge of her doll’s gown again. “I suppose I can tell you how I found out those things about Papa’s new wife. It’s just that…I sort of stole it.”
“Stole what?” Christina asked quietly.
Aggie reached into her pocket and pulled out a creased note. “Caitriona writes letters to her family almost every day. I saw this in the front hall, ready for the mail and…”
“You took it?” Devon didn’t look as if she believed Aggie capable of such a thing.
Aggie nodded miserably, tears welling once again. “I shouldn’t have, but I thought maybe she had written her plans to trick Papa so I started to read it, and then one of the footmen came down the hall, and I got scared so I stuck it in my pocket and—” Aggie’s lips quivered. “Oh, Devon, I’m afraid we’re wrong!”
Devon looked at the note. She slowly reached out, took it, and read it, her face paling.
Christina watched, her own throat tight. “What does it say?”
Silently, Devon held out the letter.
Christina opened it and read silently. After a long moment, she dropped her hands to her lap and stared into the distance.
Devon stirred restlessly, and Christina let out a shuddering sigh. “She’s homesick.”
Aggie nodded, her curls bouncing. “Just like we were, when we first came to stay with Papa.”
Devon seemed to have trouble swallowing. “She doesn’t want us gone at all.”
“No,” Aggie said, “she just wants us to like her.”
A lump filled Christina’s throat. “All this time she’s been homesick, and we’ve been making things harder on her.”
Devon’s lips quivered. “I just wanted Papa to stay away from her. I never thought—” A tear spilled down her cheek. “I-I just didn’t want to lose Papa. If he leaves us, we’ll have to go back to Mama, and—” A sob broke from her.
“No!” Christina grasped Devon’s shoulders. “No matter what Papa feels about his new wife, he’s not going to stop loving us.”
Aggie smoothed her cheek over her doll’s hair. “Do you really think so?”
“Yes,” Christina said firmly, though in her heart of hearts, she wasn’t so certain.
Devon broke the silence. “I know Papa says that, but Mama stopped loving us when she found someone new.”
Christina thought this through.
“There is a big difference between Mama and Papa. Mama was never very good at being a mother. She wasn’t good at the sort of love that lasts. Her love is more like a quick, hard shower surrounded by days and days of dryness.”
“And Papa?” Devon asked.
Christina smiled. “He’s like a nice, steady shower that keeps the gardens green and fresh, but not too much so.” She tweaked one of Aggie’s curls. “Mama didn’t know how to love us any better than she did. And Papa has done the best that he could.”
Aggie nodded. “Sometimes he yells, but doesn’t mean it.”
“And sometimes he yells because he cares, but doesn’t know how to show it.”
Devon thought about this. “Not very often, though. He’s usually in a good mood.”
“He was, until Caitriona came.” Christina thought about this. “I thought it was because he didn’t wish to m
arry her and was mad that he’d been forced to do so. Now, I wonder if perhaps it’s like when we first came to stay with Papa. Do you remember those times?”
“He was very quiet and cross.”
“And so were we. We didn’t know him well and—” Christina rested her elbow on her knee and propped her chin in her hand. “That’s actually very interesting, when you think about it. It makes one wonder…” She stared into the distance, her blue eyes unfocused.
Devon let her sister think. Christina was an excellent thinker, even better than Socrates, Papa said. If anyone could figure out the complexities of the odd ways adults acted, it would be Christina.
Christina jumped up and began to pace. “He acts as if he’s angry with her, although it wasn’t her fault they were forced to marry.”
Devon shrugged. “So?”
“So, perhaps he doesn’t know how to react to her and he just seems angry. Maybe what’s really happening is that he cares for her, and it scares him.”
“Nothing scares Papa,” Aggie said stoutly.
“That’s not true. He was a little scared of us, at first. I think Caitriona scares Papa even more, so he’s trying to stay mad.”
Devon stared at her hands.
Aggie lifted her gaze to Christina. “Do you think that’s why Mama stayed away from us? Because she was afraid she might care too much?”
Christina sat down beside Aggie. “Yes. That’s exactly what I think. She isn’t a very strong person.”
Aggie solemnly considered this. “It’s not a very happy way to live.”
“No, it’s not. Which is why we need to apologize to Papa.” Christina looked at Devon. “And Caitriona.”
Devon didn’t look up, though she knew her sister wanted her to. If anyone owed Caitriona and Papa an apology, it was her. She’d been the one to push things, to try to embarrass Triona before Papa. Christina had tried time and again to make her see the other side of things, but she’d refused. She wasn’t a nice person. In that way, she was a lot like Mama.
The thought shot through her like a shard of glass, causing her stomach to clench. She gasped, and Christina leaned forward, concern on her face. “Devon, are you ill?”
“I’m fine,” she managed. But she wasn’t. She wasn’t fine at all.
She was evil, like Mama. Of the three of them, she was the one who looked the most like Mama. Perhaps that was why she was so selfish.
Her heart ached. She’d caused Caitriona pain, but worse, she’d hurt Papa. Tears flooded her eyes, and she fought them back. She couldn’t let Christina or Aggie see; couldn’t let them know. Papa was going to be so mad.
She knew he’d guessed what had happened this morning, but had waited to say anything. That was a bad sign, for he never waited. Had she caused too much harm this time? Was he going to send them away because of their tricks?
Oh, God. Not that! He would send them all away, and they’d never have a home again.
Her gaze flickered to Christina, who was talking quietly to Aggie. Sometimes dark memories haunted Christina. Devon knew, because she slept in the same room and heard her talk in her sleep. How she cried out to Mama to come home, and how she’d begged people for food when they’d been young.
Whenever Christina had those dreams, Devon pulled her blankets over her head and wept into her pillow. As the months at Papa’s had gone by, so had Christina’s dreams.
And now, because of Devon’s selfishness, Papa was hurt and would turn them all away and her sister’s nightmares would begin again. Devon couldn’t allow that to happen. She would go away, before Papa turned his anger on them.
“Christina? I have a headache and want to take a nap.”
Christina looked surprised. “All right. I’ll stay with Aggie until Papa comes to talk to us.”
Her feet dragging, Devon left the room, glancing back for a final glimpse of her sisters.
Then within a few minutes, she changed into her riding habit, bundled some clothes into a pillowcase, and slipped down the back stairs.
Chapter 19
“When the light fails ye and ’tis too dark to make yer way, follow yer heart. Love is a light none can extinguish.”
OLD WOMAN NORA TO HER THREE WEE GRANDDAUGHTERS ON A COLD WINTER’S NIGHT
Weel, I should be goin’.”
Triona followed Mam to the foyer. Her other guests had left and Hugh had gone upstairs to speak with the girls.
Mam hugged her. “Dinna ye fash about MacLean. He’ll be gentle wit’ the bairns.”
“I hope so. He was very grim during breakfast.”
“Aye, ’twas a sad trick they played on ye.”
“William and I have done worse.”
“Aye, but no’ wit’ such intent.” Mam’s shrewd eyes narrowed. “They wished to discredit ye and ’tis a talkin’-to they need. I’d ha’ thought less o’ MacLean if he didna realize it.”
“I just don’t want this to cause any more strain in my relationship with my stepdaughters. It’s such a small issue; I could have dealt with it myself.”
“Aye, but ’tis a family ye are, so ’tis as a family this should be addressed. ’Tis proper fer MacLean to do the talkin’ since it was his own behavior tha’ set the bairns off.”
Suddenly Hugh’s bellow echoed through the house. “Angus! Liam!”
Caitriona whirled as Hugh came racing down the stairs, Christina and Aggie following, tears on both girls’ faces. “What’s wrong?”
“Devon’s missing.” He turned as Liam entered the foyer. “Saddle my horse and be quick about it.”
“Aye, m’lord!” The footman ran off.
“Do ye have any idea where she’s off to?” Mam asked.
Hugh shook his head. “She’s run away from home. Some of her clothes are missing, and it looks as if she’d changed into her riding habit.” His jaw tightened. “If one of my stable hands has been so stupid as to saddle a horse for her in this weather—” He left the words unsaid.
Christina wrung her hands, her face pale. Aggie choked back a sob. Triona hugged the younger girl, looking over her head at Hugh. “Why did she run away?”
He hesitated. “She left a note.”
Christina lifted her hand, where a crumpled note dangled. “We-we moved the furniture. Devon thought Papa would blame us for—and it was our fault, but she—”
Triona reached out and pulled the older girl to her as well, hugging her tightly as the tears flowed. “There was nothing to be sorry about! It was a joke and nothing more. My brothers and sisters and I did much worse, believe me.”
Christina pulled back. “It wasn’t a joke. We-we wanted you to go away. We didn’t want Papa to send us away.”
“What?” Hugh sounded confused.
“We thought you might not want us if you began to like Caitriona. We were afraid you’d have a child. Then we would just be in the way and—”
He placed his hands on her shoulders and bent until his eyes were even with hers. “Listen to me, Christina. No matter what, no matter who is in my life, I would never abandon you.”
“And I would never let him,” Triona added with asperity. “What sort of man would abandon his children?”
“But…” Christina’s face crumpled. “We’re not his children!”
Caitriona blinked, then looked at Hugh, stunned.
“I wondered about tha’,” Mam murmured.
Hugh’s heart was heavy. Had Devon really left for such a reason? “Christina, we’ve had this conversation before. You three are my children, because I have deemed it so and no one, least of all Caitriona, wishes it otherwise.” He looked at her over Christina’s head. “Am I right?”
He didn’t mean to say it in such a challenging fashion, but every word echoed defiance.
Caitriona didn’t flinch. Her eyes softened, her full lips quivered. “They are your daughters, and now they are mine. They belong here, at Gilmerton, with us.” She hugged Aggie tighter. “Christina, I come from a large family. There is plenty of love for all of us h
ere. Even if Hugh and I had a dozen children, you and your sisters would be loved no less.”
Her gaze met Hugh’s, and in that second, he realized that she had created the one thing he hadn’t been able to—a family. But not his warped view of a family. Rather, somewhere along the way, she’d taught him a better, more generous meaning of that word; one that wasn’t focused on keeping people out, but on allowing people in. And she’d done it with patience and love.
Love. She loved him. The amazing realization washed over him with the power of a MacLean flood. He didn’t know when it had happened; he only knew that he finally recognized it. And he did so because his own heart was filled with the same. He loved her, too.
As he opened his mouth to say so, the door flew open and Ferguson came in, wrapped in a dripping cape. “I’ve brought yer horse, m’lord, and mine as well. I only hope we can find her,” he said grimly. “One o’ the stable hands saddled her horse nearly an hour ago.”
“That damned fool!”
“Aye, he’ll be feelin’ a strop afore the day’s out, to be sure. Fortunately, it’s still mornin’. We should find her well afore dark.”
“We’d better,” Hugh said grimly. “We’ll need all of the men—”
“Already done, m’lord. I told Angus and Liam to fetch the stable hands and every man they could find.”
“Good.” Hugh hugged Christina and then gently pushed her into Caitriona’s arms. “I’m going to fetch Dougal and some of his men, and follow the roads toward the village. She can’t have gone far.” He glanced at Nora. “Will you stay until we find her?”
“O’ course.”
Caitriona’s gaze sought his, her eyes bright with tears. “Please find her soon!”
Hugh answered this with a hard kiss, hoping she could read his love in his eyes. “We won’t return until she’s safe.”
He turned on his heel and went to the door. When he returned, he’d talk with Caitriona. It was time to set things right and begin anew. He pulled his collar higher, ducked his head, and walked out into the rain.
From the windows by the front door, Triona and the girls watched Hugh and Ferguson ride away. Outside, the wind whipped the rain in all directions, and all of the warmth seemed to follow him through the downpour.
The MacLeans: Sleepless in Scotland Page 25