03 - Dreams of Destiny

by May McGoldrick

  She snapped out of her reverie when the door of the room burst open and Violet rushed in. The young woman’s expression was pale.

  “They’re here.”

  Gwyneth didn’t have to ask. She knew it was only matter of time before David would arrive.

  “Did he see you?”

  She nodded, her face totally flushed.

  “What did you do with them?”

  “Nothing. Captain Pennington practically pounced on the doctor, and I ran up the stairs to warn you.”

  Gwyneth tried to sit up in bed. She glanced in the direction of the window. “Do you think we can manage to climb out that way?”

  “No!”

  “Perhaps I can refuse to see him.”

  Violet gave a small shake of her head. “Captain Pennington looked fairly determined, if you ask me. I think there is not much chance of refusing him anything.”

  Gwyneth tried to ignore the hard knot forming in her stomach. She was ashamed to admit that it was as much from excitement as fear. “Then at least do not leave me alone with him. With you here, there will be less chance of him taking my head off.”

  The knock was loud enough to break down the door. With her good hand, she pulled up the sheets to her chest. She was only half-dressed. Her robe was draped over her shoulder. Gwyneth didn’t even want to think how badly she must look. A second knock immediately followed.

  “I think ‘twould be best if I went and got Robert,” Violet said in a small voice. “He would be much better suited to—”

  “Do not leave me alone…” These were the only words she could get out before Violet opened the door and David was in the bedchamber.

  Gwyneth sank lower in the bed. His hair was loose. He had not bothered to shave since she’d seen him last. His clothing was covered with mud from riding. His gaze was hostile when it turned to the direction of the bed. She’d never seen David looking this wild before…nor this dangerous. She fought her inclination to pull the sheets over her head.

  He looked around the room until he saw Violet standing behind him by the door. Gwyneth thought the young woman looked more distressed than she herself felt.

  “Who are you?” he growled.

  “Violet Holmes, sir,” she said in little more than a whisper, giving him a quick curtsy.

  “Out.” He jerked his head toward the door. “My cousin is waiting for you downstairs.”

  Violet shot a quick glance at her. She was bravely holding her ground, but her terror was obvious. She didn’t know David. She didn’t know he was not truly as fierce as he looked and sounded.

  She gave a reassuring nod to her friend. “You can go. I shall be fine.”

  Violet’s parting glance was apprehensive. Gwyneth imagined her running down the stairs and pleading with width=to send up a dozen grooms to battle the madman.

  The loud bang of the door behind the young woman made Gwyneth cringe and wish that was exactly what Violet was doing. She stared at David’s large hands, fisting and unfisting at his sides. Her gaze shifted to his clenched jaw and the blue eyes. He was clearly angry. He started toward the bed.

  “You should not be here, David.” She straightened the sheets around her. “I am injured and in pain. Your presence here is not in any way conducive to the improvement of my health.”

  He gave a short laugh as he continued to approach.

  “I am delighted to hear you say that.”

  *****

  Walter Truscott had not recognized Violet at first, dressed as she was when she came down the stairs with the physician. The beautiful woman did not resemble in any way the dirty and frail creature lying on her bairn’s grave. She was not the same helpless woman with no will to live. Once her blue eyes looked at him, though, he had no doubt about her identity. Before he could say anything, though, she’d fled back up the stairs.

  He knew she would have to come back down. And just as he had expected, she did not come down the same stairs. Keeping watch through the large windows that looked out over the grounds and the pathway leading to the wing housing the stables, he saw her as soon as she stepped out of the house. She was walking and then running toward the stables. The fear that she might try to run away again made Truscott dash out the door after her. He caught up to her half way down the path.

  “Violet.”

  She immediately stopped and looked nervously over her shoulder. Her face was flushed. She gave a small curtsy when he reached her. Her eyes remained focused on the patch of gravel separating them.

  “Good day, Mr. Truscott,” she said softly.

  “Walter...please call me Walter. I want you to know I’ve been—”

  “Excuse me, sir, but do you know anything about Captain Pennington’s temperament?”

  “His temperament? I do.”

  She looked up hopefully. “Is he dangerous when he is angry?”

  “On occasion, I’ve known him to be very dangerous.”

  “Are you able to handle him in such instances?”

  “I’ve done so once or twice.”

  “Then you must come with me,” she said, motioning toward the house, and starting back that way. “As a family relation, you may have a better chance of helping Miss Gwyneth. Please, we must hurry.”

  Truscott stood watching her, amused by her concern. She whirled around when she realized he wasn’t following.

  “Please sir! Captain Pennington was like an angry boar when he charged into the room. My mistress is too weak from her injury to defend herself. We cannot waste any time.”

  He started toward her slowly. “To put your mind at ease, I shall gladly come and stand guard by Gwyneth’s door upstairs. But I shall not charge in there and be the cause of more trouble. What she did was foolish. She put her life in danger for no reason.”

  She opened her mouth but then closed it tightly.

  “I believe she deserves whatever tongue-lashing Captain Pennington is going to give her. And I can assure you, that shall be the extent of his harshness with her.”

  She gave a curt nod. “I accept your offer of standing by their door. Just in case…if Captain Pennington’s temper is not as contained as you imagined it to be, I would like to have you nearby.”

  Violet led the way and the two of them started toward the house. Truscott intentionally slowed their pace. “I shall look foolish standing there alone. Will you keep me company?”

  A pretty blush darkened her fair cheeks. She looked away shyly. “Yes, sir. I shouldn’t like to have you look foolish.”

  “Call me Walter.”

  *****

  This had not been the punishment David had in mind. Storming toward the bed earlier, he’d planned everything from giving her a long lecture about her foolishness, to carrying her back to Baronsford. Something about those beautiful green eyes spitting fire at the same time as greeting him that had undone him. He had pulled the sheets away only to kiss her. And she had answered his assault willingly.

  “I am very angry,” David was able to growl in the seconds that their mouths separated. He forced himself down on the edge of the bed. Before his temper could find voice again, Gwyneth looped her left arm around his neck and pulled his head down for another taste.

  It was far too easy to be lost in the warmth of her mouth, especially when Gwyneth eagerly matched the erotic stroking of his tongue. David’s body strained to be closer. His hand pulled the sheets lower. He drew open her robe and felt her breast through the thin layer of her chemise. She arched her back, her head dropped back onto the pillows, her eyes closed, and a soft moan of assent escaped her throat.

  “The doctor put no restrictions on making love, did he?” he asked.

  “No.” Her eyes slowly opened and a half smile broke across her lips. “There must be no restrictions on it, for he was very specific.”

  David eyed the bandages covering her arm and shoulder. Worry again began to burn in his stomach. He looked into her eyes. “Why did you do it? Why did you run away?”

  “Did you not read th
e letter I left for you?”

  He placed a hand on either side of her head and looked into her eyes. “I read the blasted letter, but there were no answers in there. I want the truth, Gwyneth.”

  She looked away as a deep blush covered her face. “We shared a night of true passion, but that was all, David. That must be enough for us. ‘Twas enough for me.”

  He leaned closer, forcing her to look into his eyes. “We both know that you are lying. You wanted me to make love to you only a moment ago, and I wanted the same. The same thing will happen this afternoon…and tonight…and tomorrow…and many days after. We want each other Gwyneth. There is no denying that.”

  “Only when we are together,” she said fervently. “That was why I had to run away. I cannot think straight when I am near you. I am incapable of making clear decisions at moments like this. You are too much for me, David. Too much for my body and my mind. We shouldn’t have gone as far as we did. But I believe ‘tis not too late to forget what happened.”

  He ran his thumb gently across her bottom lip. “Do you think ‘tis even possible to forget?”

  Just as he’d thought, she had no answer to that. She’d said it herself that she couldn’t think straight when he was around.

  More than ever before David knew they were meant for each other. He wanted Gwyneth as his wife, as his lover, as his friend. But she was not one to be told. He had to convince her of all of that. She was a romantic at heart, and his approach had been nothing like she deserved.

  “There is no forgetting you, my love.” He touched her face before she could turn it away again. “And you know that I wanted you the whole time you were missing. I was lost when I arrived here and found out you’d never arrived. I know I never formally wooed you. I never talked to Augusta about my intentions, nor I have made any formal proposal of marriage. Because of the history between us, I made too many assumptions. But I can change all of that. We can start again.”

  Several tears escaped her eyes before she batted them away with her one good hand. “Why me, David? You can have anyone else you want. Why are you so determined to convince me?”

  He put his answer in the kiss he gave her. Soft, tender, slowly building all the passion he could muster into it.

  ****

  “’Tis too quiet in there,” Violet whispered, hesitantly putting her ear closer to the door. “You don’t think he has already done something to her, do you?”

  She frowned over her shoulder at Truscott when he cleared his throat. She noticed that he had a difficult time suppressing his smile. He shuffled from one foot to the other before leaning against the wall again.

  “No, lass. I think Gwyneth is quite safe with David.”

  She felt foolish standing guard here. And Violet understood what Truscott’s little smile was about. Perhaps he’d been told by Captain Pennington what had transpired between the two of them at Gretna Green, just as Gwyneth had confided in her. But there were no inappropriate noises coming from the room. There were no sounds of conversation, either.

  The one thing that kept her from knocking on the door, though, was Gwyneth’s declaration of how she truly felt about David Pennington. Violet had been looking for the right opportunity to bring this up again with her friend. If the two of them were as love-struck as they looked and sounded, she could see no reason why they could not talk through their troubles. Whatever prejudice toward women and writers Captain Pennington had, he needed o understand Gwyneth’s interest was more than a mere hobby. If he loved her, then he would help her extricate herself from the blackmail plot against her.

  “I think ‘twill look quite foolish if one of them were to open that door and find us eavesdropping out here.”

  Violet looked over her shoulder at Truscott only to have the door swing open at that moment. She took an immediate step back as the doorway filled with the broad frame of the visitor.

  “I did not hurt her too badly this time. But I am coming back this afternoon to mete out more punishment.”

  All Violet could do was to nod like a fool. He appeared far more relaxed than before—far more approachable. The fury was clearly gone.

  “I would appreciate it if you would ask one of the maids to prepare a room for me on this same floor. I plan to stay at Greenbrae Hall until Miss Douglas is well enough to be taken to Baronsford, or until her aunt arrives.”

  So much for Gwyneth’s insistence that she never wanted to see him, Violet thought.

  After a polite bow, the tall Scotsman closed the door to Gwyneth’s room and started down the hall. Truscott fell in step with his cousin, but his departing glance told Violet that he would be back, too.

  ****

  He was known for his intelligence as well as his, kindness and compassion. He was stern yet tolerant. He had a temper, but no one ever called him unjust. He was proud but not vain. He treasured his family more than anything else in life. And Baronsford grieved fiercely when Charles Pennington, the earl of Aytoun, died after a short illness.

  Walter was as upset about the passing of the great man as Lyon, Pierce, and David. In many ways, Pennington had been the only father he’d ever known. He certainly had treated the young lad who had been entrusted into his care no differently than his real sons. Walter had been given an education and an opportunity unmatched by anything he could have expected. Walter had been given a dream and a future.

  Standing beside the other family members by the family vault in the old kirk, Walter looked around him at the other lives the earl of Aytoun had so powerfully shaped. Though it had taken several months to gather at Baronsford, they were all here now for the memorial service. Lyon was back from India, Pierce from London, and David from Ireland.

  Lady Aytoun had been a young widow when the earl had married her. The two of them had created three sons whom they were very proud of. Walter glanced at his cousins’ solemn faces and wondered of the changes and challenges that faced the three men now that their father was gone. Of course, the greatest challenges would fall to Lyon. He was now Earl of Aytoun and as such would assume responsibility for Baronsford and its vast lands.

  Uncontrollably, Walter’s gaze was drawn to Emma. Even before looking at her, though, he’d known where her attention would be directed.

  Without looking at either of the other brothers, Emma walked toward Lyon and put a hand on his arm.

  CHAPTER 16

  “So what do you think of her?”

  David didn’t need to pause to think of a response to his mother’s question. He told her his true impression.

  “On the first glance, she doesn’t look like someone Lyon would have chosen as a wife.”

  “He didn’t choose her, I did,” the dowager interrupted proudly.

  “Then you did very well, Mother.”

  David held the old woman’s hand as they walked slowly down one of the garden paths. The dowager had given up her walking stick. She walked now with more energy than anyone had seen in years. David had spent yesterday afternoon being introduced to all the new faces, family and otherwise, around Baronsford, as well as visiting with the folk he’d known for years. He’d spent the night at Greenbrae Hall, but his mother had demanded a private audience with him this morning. So he was back.

  “I must say that after just a few minutes in Millicent’s company, I was won over. I know now why my brother is so enamored.”

  “I am happy to hear you say that…or you wouldn’t be my son,” Beatrice said in a matter-of-fact voice. “She has the heart of an angel and a brain that matches Lyon in both intelligence and wit. Even her looks, though seemingly simple at first, grow on a person. There are many who consider her one of the most beautiful women in Britain. Of course, your brother is at the head of that group.”

  David would not argue that point. The warm greeting he’d received from Millicent had been a shock—especially after the air of reserve that had pervaded his first meeting with Lyon. And her feelings had come across as genuine. She was really very happy to see him, and that had m
ade him feel truly welcome at Baronsford.

  Regarding her looks, while she was not a great beauty, the light coming from within her had a way of brightening a room. The fact that she was with child added yet another special charm to her presence. The idea of another generation of Pennington children at Baronsford was very appealing, even to David, who had spent so many years away.

  “I have not been around children in a long time,” he said. “’Tis amazing how that wee Josephine has a way of growing on you.”

  “She certainly does. Another great beauty, and one who has contributed a great deal to Lyon’s recovery, too. To keep up with her, the earl has to push himself harder. He is becoming more agile with each passing day. At the rate he is going, he will be a young man by the time his bairn is born.”

  “’Twill be in just a couple of months, I understand.”

  “Indeed. And to think I shall be here to witness it.”

  She stopped before a stone bench and glanced back at the towering castle on the hill. The look of pride and happiness in the old woman’s face was one David had not seen at Barny years. He wanted to comment that how the dowager appeared younger, too. Since yesterday, not once had he heard his mother complain of any illness or remind him, as she once did with almost every breath, how she had so few days left to live.

  “And I cannot wait until you meet Portia, as well. We expect her and Pierce back any day,” the dowager continued, sitting down on the bench. She motioned David to follow suit.

  “I know for a fact that you did not arrange that marriage,” he joked, sitting beside her.

  “I would have, if I were in Boston before those two met,” she said breezily. “But she is a prize, too. Quite strong-willed. Beautiful but unpretentious. A dreamer in many ways. In temperament, she is very much like her father…” her voice dropped to a whisper. “…Bonnie Prince Charlie. You were told of her parentage, were you not?”