The MacLeans - Sleepless in Scotla

by Karen Hawkins

  Devon’s gaze locked on to Hugh’s face. “Short time? She won’t be staying?”

  “Only a couple of months, and then she’ll return to her home. Meanwhile, you three will be polite. And no tricks, either. None. Am I making myself clear?”

  Devon and Christina looked mulish.

  Hugh’s brows lowered. “Christina?”

  She sighed. “Yes, Papa. I will be polite.”

  “Thank you.” He glanced at Devon and Aggie. “You, too.”

  Devon mumbled, “Yes, Papa.”

  Aggie pushed out her bottom lip, but nodded.

  “Good. Whether you like it or not, Caitriona is my wife and will be treated with respect. She will act as such during her time here, and will oversee the household.”

  Devon blinked. “But…Christina and I were doing that!”

  “Now you’ll have some help.” Hugh looked at Dougal. “Perhaps the girls will have more time for their studies.”

  Dougal nodded, smiling a bit. “I’m sure they’ll enjoy that. I suggest they learn Latin, as well as their Greek.”

  “Latin?” Devon squeaked.

  Christina crossed her arms over her thin chest. “I don’t wish to learn Latin!”

  “Me neither!” Devon added.

  Hugh ignored them. “Our lives will not be any different just because I married. In a few months, we won’t even remember she was here.”

  “Do you promise?” Devon asked.

  “I promise,” Hugh said solemnly. “Have I ever broken a promise to you?”

  Finally, Devon nodded. “All right, then.”

  Christina said, “We were just worried that it would be like when Mother—” Her gaze lowered to the floor, her expression strained.

  “Though I have known Caitriona for a short time only, I know for a fact she is honorable. You can trust me on that.”

  Aggie asked, “What do we call her?”

  “We are not calling her Mother,” Devon said.

  “You will call her ‘my lady,’ as is proper,” Hugh said. “Now, stop looking like the three deaths! It’s a beautiful day and we could be out riding, not sitting here moping about something we can’t change.” He looked at Aggie. “Are you ready to ride?”

  She looked down at her morning dress and then back at him, astonished. “I don’t have on my riding habit or boots or anything!”

  He laughed. “I missed that completely. I hope your pony hasn’t forgotten how to trot while I was gone.”

  Aggie grinned, showing a missing tooth. “I will ride fast!”

  “Only if one of your sisters is leading.”

  “And,” Dougal added with a severe look, “you won’t attempt a hedge.”

  Hugh frowned at his youngest daughter. “When did you attempt to jump a hedge?”

  Aggie smiled sweetly. “I might have tried it when you were away.”

  “The next time you try something like that without proper instruction, it will be a month before you’re allowed to ride again. You could break your neck doing such a foolish thing.”

  Aggie’s smile dimmed. “Yes, Papa.”

  “Good girl. Now, I’m going to the stables. Change your clothes and meet me there. I need to ride through the herds, and you three may help me.”

  They came to him for a hug. Hugh gathered them to him, breathing in their sweet scent of soap, soaking in their presence.

  Something tight inside of him released a little. His heart ached with the sudden infusion of warmth, and he couldn’t imagine loving them more.

  Dougal looked away, his eyes bright with unshed tears.

  Finally, Hugh cleared his throat and kissed each of his daughters on her forehead. “Hurry and change.”

  “Yes, Papa.” Christina took Aggie’s hand and, with Devon trailing, left the sitting room.

  As soon as the door closed, Dougal said, “They love you very much.”

  And he loved them. His life was divided into two parts; the time before the girls came to him and the time after. He barely remembered the time before. He’d enjoyed life, and always had. But now, when he awoke in the morning, it wasn’t with the fuzzy uncertainty of whose bed he might be, but with a sense of peace and warmth and the knowledge that three very special smiles would be waiting on him over the breakfast table.

  Those smiles made his day worthwhile.

  Of course, in the beginning, it had been difficult for them all. It had taken time to get used to one another, to find the love that had gradually developed. The girls hadn’t been willing to trust him at first, and he hadn’t realized how special they would become. Over the past year, though, they’d carefully crafted their small family and he prized it above all else. He looked at Dougal and said simply, “They are my life.”

  “That’s good…to a point.”

  He frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “Hugh, you can’t protect them from every little change life is going to throw their way.”

  “I can try.”

  “Then you’ll fail.” Dougal leaned forward, his expression earnest. “You must be careful what you promise the girls. They count on you. You can’t protect them from everything, nor can you promise that nothing will change now that Caitriona has arrived. You’re married; things are bound to change. That’s just natural.”

  Hugh shook his head. “I will not allow anyone to set the household on its ear. The children need constancy. They’ve had so little.”

  “I hope your wife agrees to that.”

  “If she doesn’t, then I will train her.” He flicked a smile at Dougal. “Just as I would one of my prize horses. I will calmly state my wishes, and if she shies, I will firmly hold her in place. Soon she will understand who is in charge.”

  Dougal shifted uneasily. Last night, with the haze of surprise and port, his advice had seemed masterful. In the bright light of day, he wasn’t so sure it could be called masterful. He wasn’t even sure he would call it advice anymore, but rather a mistake. “Hugh, I don’t remember exactly what I said last night, but you can’t train a wife like a horse.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because it’s not done! And because it’s wrong somehow, and…”

  “Why is it wrong?”

  Dougal wished with all his heart that Sophia were here to answer Hugh’s questions. “I should have found a better way to explain myself. If she finds out—”

  “Dougal, I’m not a fool; I won’t tell her that’s what I’m doing.”

  “She won’t like being told what to do.”

  “Caitriona and I barely know each other, so I’m sure we’ll get upset with one another over many things. But she’ll be leaving soon.” He shrugged.

  “It doesn’t work like that.”

  “It will for me.” He’d make sure it did. Hugh remembered her sweetness this morning, and the way she’d put herself at risk to save her sister. Caitriona was nothing like the girls’ mother; Clarissa was a cold, selfish creature.

  Dougal rubbed his forehead. “I wish I’d never mentioned horses. Damn your port! My head still aches and I only had two glasses. Hugh…”

  Dougal frowned as if searching for words, which surprised Hugh. His younger brother was known for his verbal deftness, if nothing else.

  “Hugh, what if Caitriona is something more than you realize? What if she’s meant to be in your and the girls’ life?”

  “Nonsense. We were perfectly fine before she arrived. Christina rarely has night terrors anymore, and Aggie has stopped wetting the bed. Devon isn’t as thin, either. They are all healing.”

  “That doesn’t mean there’s no room for improvement. Caitriona might be good for the lot of you.”

  Hugh stood, suddenly restless, and strode to the window. The winter sunlight warmed the grass on which horses grazed contentedly, and glinted off the deep brook that wandered through the rolling hills.

  The sight soothed him, as it always did. Everything was as it should be, and he would not give that up. Ever. When he thought back to the dark terrors of a
year ago—He closed his eyes. Dougal doesn’t understand because he doesn’t know the entire truth. Perhaps it’s time I told him.

  Taking a deep breath, he turned back to his brother. “Have the girls ever talked to you about their lives before they came here?”

  Dougal shook his head.

  “Clarissa dragged them through places no child should see, and left them for days at a time in tiny, rented hovels with little or nothing to eat. They went without heat in the cold, and without water in sweltering summers. She took them from dirty rooming houses to crumbling, moldy palaces to decrepit country estates, among people no child should associate with. Depending on whomever Clarissa was whoring herself out to at the time, they were shunned, hidden, or put on display like ponies.”

  Dougal’s expression grew grim.

  “They were in danger constantly, rarely had enough food, and were reduced to the lowest form of subsistence.” Hugh ground his teeth. “I treat my horses better than Clarissa treated those girls.”

  Dougal nodded mutely.

  “When they first arrived, Devon would hoard food beneath her bed. She still does, though less each month. Christina could neither read nor write, and the smallest quick movement made her jump as if she expected to be struck. I don’t think Aggie had ever had a bath, for she screamed bloody murder when Mrs. Wallis and the upstairs maid put her in a tub. They were thin, scarred, and bruised from head to toe.” The lines about Hugh’s mouth were white. “When they came here, I promised them that their days of uncertainty were over. We have adhered to a very simple schedule, a simple life, and they have blossomed.”

  Dougal’s expression softened. “They love it here, and they love you. But I still feel that Caitriona might add something.”

  “I provide everything the girls need.”

  “Except a mother. They need a woman in their lives,” Dougal said gently. “All girls do. Hell, all men do, too.”

  Hugh’s jaw tightened. “They had a mother and she brought nothing but pain. My children come first, and always will.” Outside, a carriage pulled up to the front door. “There is Caitriona now. She went to town after breakfast with Mrs. Wallis to purchase a few things.”

  Dougal sighed heavily. He’d known the girls had come from a bad life, but he’d never known the details. But then, that was Hugh; he’d always played things close to the vest. In public he was pleasant and jovial, but he never allowed anyone truly close to him. Until the girls had arrived—then things had changed.

  Damn it all, something was lacking from Hugh’s argument, but he couldn’t quite put a finger on it. Dougal finally shrugged. “You’ll do as you think best.”

  “Yes, I will.” Hugh tamped down his irritation. Dougal was trying to help, however misguided his attempt. There were times when it was onerous to have so many family members living so close by.

  A soft knock sounded on the door, and Caitriona entered, her cheeks pink from her journey to town, her dark gold hair wisping about her cheeks from pulling off her bonnet.

  Dougal rose from his chair, and Caitriona’s eyes widened behind her spectacles. “I beg your pardon. I didn’t mean to intrude.”

  “You didn’t intrude,” Hugh said, and introduced them to one another.

  Dougal bowed with his customary grace. “A pleasure to meet you. Welcome to the family.”

  She dipped a curtsey. “Thank you.” Her gaze went to Dougal’s gold hair, and she slanted a questioning glance at Hugh, who grinned.

  “I know, he looks nothing like me.”

  “Actually, except for his hair, he looks exactly like you.”

  Dougal chuckled. “We may look alike, but I am definitely the better dresser. If you can get my loutish brother to improve his wardrobe, the entire family will be forever in your debt.”

  Caitriona’s eyes twinkled. “I will see what can be done.”

  “Isn’t it time you were leaving?” Hugh asked his brother pointedly.

  “I suppose so.” Dougal smoothed his sleeve, watching his new sister-in-law from beneath his lashes. She was not at all Hugh’s usual sort. She was quite tall, and a bit plump, too. But her hair was shiny and dark gold, her skin milky white, her lips plump and red, and her eyes were an amazing shade of hazel behind those spectacles. Best of all, her expression spoke of calm good sense and a great deal of spirit. This was not a woman to be trifled with.

  Dougal smiled. He had the feeling it would be an interesting few months. He took his sister-in-law’s hand and pressed a kiss to her fingers. “I must take my leave of you now, but I shall return soon and tell you all of the family secrets.”

  She laughed and curtsied, rather liking this suave member of the MacLean family. “I’ll have pen and ink ready to take notes. I’m sorry you must go. Do you live nearby?”

  “Less than a mile down the road. My wife, Sophia, is in Edinburgh this week with her father, but will be most happy to receive you once she returns.”

  “So you are alone in your house? You must come to dinner! Hugh, tell him he must come.”

  Hugh snorted. “I will do no such thing. He comes to visit me far too often as it is.”

  Dougal grinned. “I shall return for dinner. Thank you, my lady.” He bowed and headed for the door.

  The door closed behind him.

  His expression inscrutable, Hugh said, “Caitriona, I should have told you about the girls sooner. It was just awkward and I…” He grimaced. “I am truly sorry.”

  Triona hadn’t expected that. After a moment, she said calmly, “I can imagine it would be a difficult topic to work into a conversation, especially as we’ve had so few.”

  “I was just making my grand announcement when they arrived home sooner than I expected.” He hesitated. “I should have told you much earlier, but I wanted to wait until we were here, where we had some privacy and you weren’t so exhausted. It’s a lot to take in.”

  She gave him a cool look. “If you’d told me you had daughters, I would simply have asked to meet them.”

  His dark gaze remained locked on her for a long moment. Then, with a stiff bow, he said, “As I said, I’m sorry. There will be no more secrets between us.”

  “Thank you. I can see we need to spend more time getting to know one another. We lack trust, and that is lamentable.”

  “If it will help us avoid more difficult moments, I’m quite willing to do so. In fact—” He stepped forward and took her hand, his fingers warm over hers, and led her to the soft settee. Then he grabbed a nearby chair, placed it in front of her, and sat down, his knees almost brushing hers. “We should finish the conversation that was so abruptly interrupted this morning.”

  “I would rather talk about the girls. I don’t know anything about them.”

  “They are my daughters. What more do you need to know?”

  Triona placed her hands on her knees and leaned forward. “MacLean, if this is your idea of a conversation, then we’re going to have many, many difficult moments.”

  He looked disposed to argue, but after a moment he sighed. “What do you wish to know?”

  “Whatever you can tell me. They’re lovely girls. I thought they were very well behaved at breakfast, though quiet.”

  “They were surprised.”

  “As was I. I’m sure that once they become used to having me about, they will warm to me. As their stepmother, I’ll try to—”

  “No.”

  She frowned. “No, what?”

  “I don’t consider you their stepmother. I’m very sure they wouldn’t want that, either.”

  “But—”

  “Our marriage is unusual.”

  “So? What does that have to do with the children?”

  “With my children.”

  Her heart sank. It felt as if she stood in front of a huge door, but had no key. How could she get inside?

  Worse, another thought reared its ugly head. MacLean had had three children over a number of years, and all had the same mother. He must have cared for this woman. There was only one w
ay to find out. “Did you love her?”

  His brows snapped down. “Did I love—oh. Their mother. I once thought I did, but no more.”

  His answer was so quick and natural that Triona relaxed. “I see. Is she…is she still alive?”

  “Yes.” He spat the answer. “When I was a callow youth, I was captivated by her. But she is not a good woman. For years, the girls lived with Clarissa. As her life disintegrated, so did theirs. Until they came to live with me a year ago, they didn’t know the meaning of the word ‘home.’ They’d never had one.”

  How difficult that must have been for them! Triona tried to imagine how her life would be without the familiar comfort of the vicarage, and couldn’t. “Perhaps I can help—”

  “No.”

  She blinked at the harshness of his voice.

  “Caitriona, you won’t be staying more than a few months.”

  “Yes, but—”

  “There are no ‘buts.’ It would make more sense—and be easier on the girls—if you kept your distance. I don’t wish them to be upset when you leave.”

  Every word he said shut her out even more. This morning, she’d thought their lovemaking had signified something, that they were beginning life together as a couple, even if only for a few months’ duration. Now she realized that what happened in the bedchamber was not necessarily reflected out of it.

  Still, she couldn’t fault him for wanting to protect his children. Though a sense of loneliness settled about her, she managed to say, “The children come first, of course.”

  “Thank you.” He leaned back in his chair, some of the determination leaving his face. “It shouldn’t be too difficult. You will see the girls at meals, but they will be with their governess and tutor most of the morning, and with me most of each afternoon.”

  She looked down at her hands, clasped in her lap. “Where is the girls’ mother now?”

  His gaze shuttered and white lines appeared down each side of his mouth. “You are determined to know it all, are you? I don’t see how this will help, but her name is Clarissa Beaufort. She is the daughter of an obscure Irish baron. She is astonishingly beautiful; Devon will look just like her, I think. Clarissa was her father’s only child and he raised her to think she was better than anyone, though the truth is far different. She uses her beauty to—” His lip curled, and it was with obvious difficulty that he continued, “No matter how horrid her behavior, or how inexcusable her actions, men flock to her in droves, and she welcomes them all.”