‘If you say so.’
‘I do say so, but I love and appreciate the fact you are concerned.’ It was a heartfelt statement. ‘I do love you.’
‘Soppy, but I feel the same about you. We never say things like that and we should.’
Wise words from one so young. Morven hugged her sister and Murren returned it with fervour.
‘So,’ Morven said as they both wiped a tear from their eyes. ‘Are you enjoying yourself?’
‘Ye…es,’ Murren said hesitantly. ‘I enjoyed meeting Thomasina. She said to call her Tina and she is to arrange for me to visit. Will you mind?’
‘Me?’ Morven wondered why Murren would think that. ‘Heavens no, why should I?’ she asked, genuinely perplexed.
Murren worried her lower lip with her teeth. ‘You would be left here with Mama and Lord Fraser and his mama. What would you do?’
‘There will be nothing to worry about, I promise you. I long to spend time in the library, and Lord Fraser has promised a groom if I wish to ride out and he is unable to accompany me. You must go and enjoy yourself.’ I can make sure I keep out of Mama and Lady Napier’s clutches. ‘Time enough to do as parents and the ton insist.’
‘She might not remember,’ Murren said gloomily. ‘Tina I mean. Morven, I was right not to want to come here. So were you. It’s dark and depressing and Mama is so driven. And now you say you don’t know what Lord Fraser has in mind and ohh.’ She burst into tears. ‘You are cruel.’
‘Pardon? Why?’ What was Murren hinting at? And why did her distress seem forced? It was one more mystery to ponder over.
‘You won’t tell me anything, and I want to be here for you. To be someone you know you can confide it. You’re shutting me out again like you did last time.’
‘Murren,’ Morven said tersely, her patience sorely tried. ‘I can not tell you what I do not know—get that into your head. I am not a confidante of Lord Fraser.’ She didn’t add “and if I was why would I break that faith?” For whatever reason Murren seemed wound up enough without Morven adding to it. It was a pity because it would be marvellous to have someone to confide her worries and fears to, but she couldn’t do it.
Murren stamped her foot. Tears streamed down her face, which was red with temper, real or assumed. ‘Well you should be. How can… Lord…well, oh I’m sorry.’ She sniffed, sobbed even harder, dropped her peach and the rest of her breadcrumbs, turned on her heels, and ran back towards the house.
Morven stared after her, perplexed. What was that all about? She picked up the fruit, now bruised beyond redemption, and put it into her empty bag. Knowing her sister’s propensity for drama and bouts of tears when she was overwrought, it was best to let her sort herself out, but somehow this session seemed unreal. Almost put on. Why? Murren sat down on a convenient stone bench and ate her own peach. She had no answer to her self-posed question.
An hour later footsteps on loose stones heralded company. Morven closed the book she had secretly brought out with her in the hope Murren would feed the fish and give her sister half an hour to enjoy herself. Morven looked up, in the direction of the noise. To her delight, Fraser appeared through the rose-covered arch, which led to the formal knot garden and the tenancies beyond.
‘Hello, I hoped I’d find you here,’ he said cheerfully. ‘One of the gardeners said he thought you were around this area. Where’s your sister?’ He sat down next to her without asking and stretched his legs out. ‘Ah that’s good. Anything to eat here?’
Amused, Morven handed over the basket, which contained the rest of the food and wine. ‘Help yourself.’
Fraser peered at the contents. ‘Oh good that’s Grannie Macaulay’s goat’s cheese. My favourite. So where is your sister?’ He poured two glasses of wine and handed one over, and popped a slice of the creamy cheese into his mouth. Once he’d chewed, he wiped his mouth. ‘Perfect. Are we actually alone? With time before we will be interrupted?’
Morven sipped her wine slowly. Even watered it was fruity and robust and needed to be savoured not quaffed. ‘So it seems. Murren, after getting cross because I told her I had no ideas of your plans regarding marriage, took herself off in a flood of tears and is no doubt now exhausted and sleeping off her temper. She was incredibly insistent that I must know more than I admitted. I smell something fishy although I can not put my finger on what. With both her and our respective mamas. It is almost as if they are pushing us together and not you and Murren.’
‘I wonder?’ Fraser said. ‘Your mama as well, now?’
‘I think so.’
‘I wonder then, is that good or bad?’
Morven spread her hands out and the wine in her glass sloshed worryingly near the rim. ‘Oops.’ She steadied herself. ‘I have no idea except I have a dislike of being manipulated. Ah well, we’ll see soon enough. Oh and Murren is to pay a visit to Thomasina, henceforth to be called Tina. Whether she is to stay for lunch or a prolonged stay I have no idea.’
‘Hmm, I think Brogan will be pleased.’
‘Brogan?’ she asked him, puzzled by his assertion. ‘Why?’
Fraser shrugged and helped himself to more cheese. ‘He seemed more than interested in your sister.’
‘But she’s just a child,’ Morven protested uneasily. Good heavens their mama would throw a fit if she found that out to be true. Morven had the idea her mother had more grandiose ideas for Murren.
Fraser raised one shoulder in a lopsided shrug. ‘So were you when we became involved,’ he pointed out.
He was correct, but it didn’t make Morven any happier. Her mama didn’t know that, nor did she need to.
‘My life is standing on its head,’ she said. ‘My sister is in a temper, that will no doubt be my misfortune to sort out, my mother is on a campaign to heaven knows what and your mother is in cahoots with the same temper-driven sister who keeps pestering me for answers I can not give. The last thing I need is for our youthful follies to be made public knowledge.’
‘Then we’d best hope we get everything sorted out and soon.’ Fraser tore off some bread and threw it into the pond. ‘Would you like to go for a ride? I’ve something to show you.’
Morven stood up. ‘Why not? I’m so wound up I have a horrid feeling if anyone touched me I’d jump and scream.’
Fraser chuckled and very deliberately put his arms on her hips. ‘Well?’
Morven laughed. ‘Except you.’
He rolled his eyes and sighed very dramatically. ‘Damn, I like it when you scream for me.’
Her face was surely the colour of the nearby roses? ‘Yes well…that is different, thank goodness,’ Morven said fervently. ‘When and where shall we meet?’
‘Shall we say half an hour in the stable yard?’
‘Twenty minutes,’ Morven replied with a laugh. ‘I will not need any longer.’
‘Really? If you are ready in twenty minutes I’ll let you choose the name of the foal about to be born.’ Fraser said in a tone of resigned amusement. ‘I think I’m safe.’
‘You’re on.’ She flashed him a grin, picked up her skirts and ran in the general direction her sister had earlier. She intended to win the bet.
Seventeen minutes later she walked briskly into the stable yard to see Fraser and a groom holding two horses, neither of whom she had previously seen.
‘This is Fancy.’ Fraser indicated the chestnut with a white blaze on her nose. ‘Bonny is out with my factor. She’s spirited but I’m sure you will suit.’
Morven ignored the wink, which accompanied his words, nodded and stroked the mare’s head. ‘And who is the handsome boy next to her? The equine one,’ she added as Fraser’s eyes gleamed with mischief.
‘This? Oh this handsome boy is Misneachail. He’s been with me for only a few months but I know he’s on my side, eh boy?’
The horse whinnied and Fraser laughed. ‘See? He agrees.’
Morven wished she had someone, or something so loyal to her. ‘You are lucky,’ she said softly. She didn’t qualify her words.<
br />
Fraser glanced at her sharply but didn’t query her statement. ‘I am,’ he replied simply. ‘Are you ready?’
Morven nodded. ‘Oh yes and in under twenty minutes. So I will name the foal.’
Fraser laughed. ‘As I promised. Please nothing unsuitable. I have to hold my head up around here.’
She sniggered.
Oh Lord. ‘Dare I ask if you have any ideas?’
‘You may ask. I don’t, not until I see it.’ Morven let him toss her up onto the side-saddle, and settled her legs and skirts before she gathered up the reins. ‘Then I will know.’
‘Lord it will probably be called Cute or Pretty then,’ Fraser said with a twinkle in his eye as he mounted his own horse. ‘Let’s hope it’s a girl in that case.’ He indicated the track out of the stable yard, which wove away from the castle and up the hill. ‘That is the quickest route to our destination. All right?’
‘Of course, lead on.’ Morven followed him as he headed away from the stables. Almost immediately they began to climb. The hill wasn’t over steep, the climb steady and the track in reasonable condition, but she was glad she was not on foot. To their left something ran into the undergrowth and overhead a buzzard circled lazily to be joined by a second and a third. One bird dived and some little animal screamed. Morven jumped. It was one thing knowing for every mouse or rat taken perhaps a lamb wouldn’t be, but it still was one of the more gory facts of country life. She bit her lip and looked resolutely ahead. That made her concentrate on Fraser’s back and the way his arse sat neatly on the saddle. It made her somewhat heated and bothered.
The sun was out but it wasn’t over hot. For that, Morven was pleased as her fashionable riding habit had a high neck. Even though she wore nothing under the jacket at all, it was warm enough, especially with her thoughts about Fraser’s body heating her mind. Her mama would be scandalised at her limited attire, as would her maid. As she’d changed alone, Morven had defiantly discarded her chemise eschewed a blouse and wore the figure-enhancing sky blue skirt and jacket with only stockings and garters underneath. It was, she decided, liberating. Almost as if she was about to swim naked in the river as she and Fraser had done years earlier. Would she ever get the chance to do something so risqué again?
They reached the top of the hill and Fraser halted. ‘This is probably one of the nicest views around. Not the highest or the most dramatic, but to me, it is better. My land, my people, my heritage.’
Morven twisted in the saddle to see the better around them. Over to the north the mountains began, and rolled away in ever higher and higher waves of mauve and grey shadows until distance made them seem like toys. Below them to the west, the houses of Kintrain village, although mere specks could easily be picked out—the kirk, an impressive grey building next to the river, was larger and more imposing. The people who walked around them looked like ants.
South was the Carse, the flat lands that lead to Stirling and beyond, whilst eastwards a loch, with a tiny, tree-covered islet on it shone in the sunlight. On its banks another large house seemed to dip its foundations in the gently ruffled waters.
‘What’s that?’ Morven asked curiously as she pointed to the building. ‘I’ve never been that way.’
Fraser looked to where she pointed. ‘Next to the loch? That’s the spare house.’
‘The spare house?’ she repeated in interest. ‘Spare for what?’
‘Spare for annoying relatives.’ He laughed. ‘Where we are heading. You look bemused and no wonder. It’s not that complicated once you know the history of Kintrain. The dower house as you know is in Kintrain village. That house down below was built in my grandfather’s time because his mother and her mother-in-law, his grandmother, were both alive when Grandpapa married and the two women did not get on. He solved the problem of having the castle for himself and his bride by building this and telling the women to choose who went where, but they were not stopping with him and his wife.’
‘And did they?’ That sounded perfect. She’d have to tell her brother about that; it would appeal to him, she was sure.
Fraser rolled his eyes. ‘The elder lady died before any decisions could be made. So the spare house remained empty until my papa decided it should be used. Therefore it has housed factors, gamekeepers and errant sons for many years. It’s empty, as my factor prefers to live in the cottage near the stables and the gamekeeper in the village. I use it if I’ve been out this way and can not be bothered or I am unable to ride home. The inn provides me with staples.’
‘So what are you going to do with it?’ she asked interestedly. ‘The house I mean not the inn.’
‘I thought we could check it out, the house not the inn, this time,’ he said with a chuckle. ‘You could tell me what in your view needs doing to it, and then I’ll generously give my mama a choice. I know she is not over enamoured with the dower house. She considers it mean and uncomfortable with rooms she declares were made for men in kilts not ladies in hoops.’
‘But hoops went out of fashion ages ago,’ Morven said somewhat bemused by the description.
‘I know that, so do you and most certainly so does she. She is, I believe, making a point that the space is not generous. What she forgets is it was built for warmth not space. Therefore the spare house would be an option. It’s not as old and the rooms are bigger.’
‘You are a good son.’ Even if there was an underlying reason to his so-called generosity.
‘Am I?’ Fraser said with a note of query in his voice. ‘Really? I wonder. She’d prefer to stop at the castle but that is non-negotiable. Last night was the final straw of a veritable bale.’
Morven shot him a sharp-eyed glance, but didn’t ask him to expand his statement. ‘It was a rather unusual gathering,’ she said non-committally.
‘An understatement, love. Ah well, are you game to come and look?’
Morven nodded. ‘Oh yes.’ Especially as it meant they had time together. She had a thought. ‘Is the spare house furnished? Ready to move into? If she decides it is what she wants, I can’t see you wanting to wait before you undertake the move.’
Fraser nudged his horse forward and Morven slipped Fancy in behind them. ‘If it needs furnishing do you have what is needed?’ she asked as they moved down the hill towards the tiny village next to the loch.
‘I have a bed there. What more is needed?’ The wicked look he slanted over his shoulder made her insides tingle. Damn him. I do not need this on a horse. On a horse for goodness’ sake. Where each movement rubs me and…enough. She wrenched her thoughts away from the needs of her body, and back to the needs of the house.
‘Ah well…a coverlet? Sheets?’ What else? Her mind went blank as she thought of a bed, with him. ‘Chairs, carpets,’ Morven added desperately. ‘So much.’
‘A good woman to keep me warm?’
‘We are talking about furnishing the house for your mama,’ Morven said severely. ‘Not your love life or lack of it.’
‘You might have been,’ Fraser said in a voice designed to make her toes, and quim curl up in anticipation. ‘I was talking about what I need there, with you.’
How on earth was she supposed to ride comfortably after that?
****
Satisfied he’d stunned Morven to silence, contemplative silence he hoped, Fraser turned back to pay attention to the track. It was not particularly difficult. He’d chosen that way on purpose, but nothing was easy when your cock was hard as a sword shaft and your breeches seemed much too small to confine said appendage. The idea of that bed at the end of their journey was looking ever more attractive. As long as Morven was in it, on it or ready to be so with him.
He vowed to forget the machinations of both his mama and hers for a short time at least and just enjoy Morven’s company. As they dropped down into the valley and the loch side he waited until her horse drew level with his and encouraged his steed into a gentle canter.
A heron flew over them, its long wings flapping lazily as it circled them and flew on,
to land in the reeds at the edge of the loch. A fish jumped and the heron swooped.
‘Easy picking,’ Fraser commented with a laugh, as they slowed to a trot and then a walk. ‘It’s a favourite haunt for herons. There was usually one here when I rode past when I was younger. It’s nice to see some things haven’t changed.’
‘Did you miss it whilst you were away?’ Morven asked him, and the heron swivelled to look at them as they rose past. It took off with elegant grace, circled them and flew away to the west. ‘Not just the heron, but all of this.’ She waved her hand to encompass the view. ‘It has a beauty I can’t imagine you’d see anywhere else.’
‘Oh yes,’ he said softly. ‘All of it.’ How could he explain the heartache he’d had, especially those first few months when he felt betrayed as well as banished? ‘For a long while I was angry, hurt and homesick. But then the magic of Barbados took over. And I had a lot to do. Work helped. But sometimes, especially in the evenings, as I sat on the veranda and listened to tree frogs, I yearned for something else.’
‘Midges?’
He laughed, pleased she’d lightened the atmosphere. ‘Oh no, and the mosquitoes more than compensated for them. No for the hint of snow in the air, foxes yapping, crows cawing and…’ He might as well say it. ‘And you by my side to share it all with.’
Morven sighed. ‘Yes.’
He nodded, as he accepted she understood that empty feeling that gnawed at your insides until you were raw. Then how you had no option but to ignore it and resurface from your misery. To shake yourself up and move on.
‘Oh well, it is over now.’ Fraser reached across the gap between them and squeezed her arm. ‘Now I’m back, I’m stopping, and there is no point in indulging in what if. Lord if I did that I’d be a gibbering wreck. Time to look forward and plan. At least I might be able to influence things to go the way I want this time.’
She smiled. ‘Do you think so?’
The Scottish Lord’s Secret Bride Page 12