‘Five nights,’ Morven muttered to herself as she paced her bedchamber whilst the sun rose and the household stirred. ‘Five bloody nights since we spent more than five minutes together. What on earth is going on?’ Her head ached, her heart ached and her jaw ached from holding back what she really wanted to say and knew she must not. The brief note on her pillow, will speak as soon as we can, was not enough to calm her fears.
The evening after the meeting with Jessie, the ladies had dined alone. Their mama had been chatty, Lady Napier less so, but much to Morven’s amazement, no one had touched on anything remotely controversial and conversation had flowed easily. The only mention of Fraser was that he was busy elsewhere. And the only mention of their day came from Morven, who said they’d had a gentle stroll to the river and back.
Murren flashed her a grateful look, and changed the subject to ask Lady Napier how to make a decorative knot in her embroidery.
Lady Napier replied with a sewing lesson, and the duchess chimed in every so often. Morven was content to sit back, sip her whisky and let the conversation flow over her. She had a lot to think about.
By the time she reached her chamber, Jessie’s words seemed engraved on her heart. Your past is your future, my lady. You need to listen and take heed. If only she could talk it all over with Fraser. However, he was nowhere around, and Murren after hearing that her destiny awaited her, and she’d discover it before three moons faded, had gone white and refused to discuss it at all.
Morven let Peggy help her into her night-rail and sat in the chair by the fire to wait, hopeful that Fraser would appear. She woke alone three hours later, cold and stiff, the fire out, the candle fluttering on the last half-inch of wax, and no sign of Fraser. Sighing she took herself off to bed, and tossed and turned the rest of the night as she strained—unsuccessfully—to listen for footsteps.
The next day passed comparatively quickly. Fraser appeared briefly mid morning as she sat in the library turning the pages of a book, and proceeded to kiss her thoroughly, before saying he was going up the glen to see a farmer who wanted to make changes to his crops. He also added he hoped to hear news about Tam Curtin.
He materialised once more as they went into dinner, spoke in general terms to everyone and made his apologies as he disappeared once the ladies rose from the table. The note on her bed merely said, “no news”.
By the second day Morven was churned up and irritable. How on earth could two people just not see each other when they lived in the same building? Oh he’d nodded as his mama ushered her into the carriage for a visit to the next valley and a meeting of the ladies’ luncheon club, where she’d been looked at with interest. Like a butterfly pegged out for inspection, as she later confided to Murren, who seemed to be in a world of her own, and only answered with an absent nod.
Once more, Morven waited in vain for Fraser to come to her, and her sleep had again been fragmented. The following morning at breakfast her mama, his mama and Murren had been cheerful, talkative and so overpowering, Morven almost pleaded a genuine headache. Only the fact that she felt like a specimen under a microscope held her back. Instead she’d gone for a walk in the garden, and felt out of sorts.
The evening was a repetition of the first night, when the only glimpse of Fraser was at the dinner table, from where that evening, he was called away to the deathbed of his first groom.
Again she spent a lonely night, with not even a note to comfort her.
The following day, her mother took a sulky, tear-prone Murren to visit the village. Why she was like that once more Morven had no idea and for once had no inclination to find out. Mainly because his mother decreed that Morven should accompany her around the house, and discover how it had changed since her previous visit. Which she decided as Lady Napier burbled on while she whisked Morven from room to room and floor to floor, was very little. Furnishings had been updated, some prize pieces moved from one room to another, but the fabric of the building was the same. It was yet another piece of the puzzle she couldn’t place. This time, however, she was shown places that had not featured in her life all those years earlier. For why would she need to see the still room, the root cellar or the icehouse?
Curiouser and curiouser.
However, it filled a day where Fraser was absent, and in truth she enjoyed most of it. Except when various members of staff looked at her with speculation, and Lady Napier came out with things like, ‘Of course when Fraser marries his lady will be able to change whatever she thinks fit. What do you think about this epergne here?’
That made Morven laugh. ‘Change as long as he agrees.’ It wasn’t likely Fraser would hand over authority to someone else unless their ideas meshed with his. ‘And as for the epergne? That is up to you as lady of the house. I wouldn’t dare offer an opinion.’
That made Senga laugh. ‘It’s horrendous isn’t it? It was my husband’s mother’s pride and joy, and I’m scared to move it in case her ghost comes and haunts me.’ She laughed self-consciously. ‘It is said she had the sight and I don’t want it fixed on me.’
Morven laughed and pushed it three inches to one side. ‘There, it is moved. I will let you know if anything happens. I dare say if you asked Fraser’s opinion he would give it to you in no uncertain terms.’
Lady Napier had glanced at her with speculation writ all over her face. ‘Of course, you understand him so well, my dear. Shall we retire to my sitting room for tea and cakes? You can be mother.’
To say she was confused, Morven decided, was an understatement. Lord, how she needed to speak with Fraser. This state of affairs was not only confusing, it was also uncomfortable. She had no idea how she should respond to anything.
At dinner that evening Fraser joined them for drinks and ate his meal absently, as if he had a lot on his mind.
Don’t we all have a lot to think about, Morven thought waspishly, and was then immediately ashamed of herself. He had an estate to run, many people to look after and give direction to, and their own state of affairs was only one small thing in his life, even if it loomed large in hers.
Even so to see him so self-absorbed and quiet and speaking only when addressed was enough for her stomach to churn and her insiders to quiver. He accompanied them into the sitting room once the meal was over, but as soon as the tea trolley was wheeled in, he excused himself because he said he had unfinished estate business. The look he slid to Morven was hungry, and she half expected to see him that night.
Only to be disappointed once more. The secret stair door had remained fastened, and her fragmented sleep broken by half-formed dreams of the man, not the man himself.
Had he decided he no longer wanted her? How could she tell? Morven was miserable, uncertain and ready to explode. The following day had been a rehash of the previous one, except this time, Fraser had been at breakfast with them.
Dressed in a well-worn, but immaculate tweed jacket, and shining top boots, he ate a hearty meal as the ladies broke their fast somewhat less substantially. ‘I think I’m going to ride to Westerhill today,’ he said as he threw down his napkin and pushed his chair back. ‘I wonder if…’ He got no further before his mama beamed at him.
‘Oh good, if you take your curricle Murren could accompany you, and you can drop some cheese in to old Mrs Mullins. She’s partial to Kintrain cheese and her daughter was saying they had none and no way of making any at the moment.’
Fraser stiffened and swung around to look at Morven. Did anyone else see the yearning, or the puzzlement in his expression?
‘As you say,’ he said eventually as Murren did an aggravating and silly handclap routine. Had she copied it from Alexina? If so Morven thought someone needed to explain gently that Alexina had no habits worthy of emulating.
‘Would you like to accompany me, my lady?’ Fraser didn’t emphasise the title or sound over enthusiastic, but Morven noticed that Murren chose to ignore his tone and jumped up enthusiastically.
‘Oh yes, please. May I, Mama? Is it convenable?’ Gone was the sulky child of th
e previous days. However, neither persona could be called the one Morven knew and liked. Just what was going on?
‘Well of course it is,’ the duchess answered. ‘You need to learn more about the estate.’
What? It seemed their parents were playing some deep game that neither she nor Fraser were privy to. Murren she wasn’t sure about. Her truculent mood of the other day was as unlike her as this over the top happy reaction, but it could all be reaction to her circumstances. Morven had no idea.
Fraser and Murren left the breakfast room, and Morven swallowed the last of her fish. ‘I think I’ll go and embroider,’ she said.
Lady Napier looked up. ‘Oh no, dear, it’s much too nice today. Why not take your sketchbook into the garden.’
Now she was confused. She didn’t sketch.
However, Morven obediently went into the gardens, sat in the shade of an old oak tree, and held a sketchbook in her hands. At least the seclusion gave her a chance to think.
She didn’t enjoy her thoughts.
She enjoyed them even less when Murren returned chattering about what a lovely time she’d had, how attentive Fraser had been and how much people welcomed her and how she loved everything about Kintrain. Morven bit back her instinctive retort of, “Well you’ve changed you mind,” and smiled.
‘Oh good.’
Murren seemed disappointed with Morven’s brief reply. Morven couldn’t have cared less. As soon as the meal was over she pleaded a headache and left the others to their evening.
Now eight hours later, after yet another sleepless night she was about ready to commit murder. She had to talk to Fraser, discover what he intended to do, and find out if he knew what the strange happenings were all about.
The problem was how?
‘I can’t just march upstairs and demand information,’ she said out loud to a sparrow, which perched on the ivy around the window. ‘I’m thwarted at every turn by our mamas and as for Murren? Lord knows what she is about.’
‘Just as every time I tried to get downstairs I was foiled,’ a welcome voice said from behind her.
Morven spun around to see Fraser—dressed in immaculate riding gear, and with his crop in one hand—close the door. He appeared to have come from the hallway behind him.
‘You came in from the hallway?’ Good Lord anyone could have seen him. Servants would be up and about by now and however loyal they were, they talked.
He nodded. ‘Someone has carefully broken the lock from my rooms to the secret stair. And every time I tried to get down here to see you, either the dogs, or a footman or on one occasion my mama was about. That shook me but she was all of a flutter and ostensibly informed me she just had to question me there and then about the games.’
‘And in reality?’
He shrugged. ‘As it was almost midnight, who knows? If I had a suspicious mind, I would say to catch me with you. Though what she hoped to achieve by doing so I have no idea. In fact I have no idea what game she, your mother or your sister are playing.’
Morven nodded. ‘Nor I. First we are almost thrown together, then kept apart. I wonder what today will bring?’
‘For me I have a meeting with the factor about setting a trap for poachers over by the home farm, and to try to sort out the knotty problem of who should occupy the two new cottages in the village. Four families in need and only two cottages. Whatever I say will be wrong, and people will be disappointed.’
It dawned on her just what a load he had to carry. Perhaps his mama had been correct when she intimated that if he settled down—Lady Senga’s words not her own—life would be easier for him. Lord, the games could not come quick enough, even if the outcome was not what either of them wanted. Morven bit her lip. She still had no idea what outcome she would prefer. To be married everywhere, just in Scotland or not married at all. Each outcome would have attendant problems to solve. Not so immediate as this one of Fraser’s though.
‘Is there nowhere else to house people?’ Morven asked him. She was glad she didn’t have to make such a decision. ‘No tiny cottage anywhere?’
Fraser shook his head. ‘Not yet. Maybe the hunting lodge up at Ardfoot as a temporary measure, but I’ll need to check it out first.’ He leant on the window ledge. ‘Space for two families until we get some more cottages finished. I’ll have to try and get there this week, and then hopefully I can assign what I have and decide to whom I should assign it next week.’ Fraser tapped his lips. ‘I just wanted to make sure you understood what was going on here. Well as best I can, and do.’ He pushed himself upright. ‘Hopefully we can be together tonight, or in the morning.’
Morven smiled sadly. ‘I can but hope.’
He bent towards her and pulled her into his arms for a hug. Morven let him hold her close, and revelled in the scent of him. The way he stroked her hair and rested his chin on her head. His breath stirred her hair, and his heart beat strong and regular next to her cheek.
‘What will you do today?’
She sighed. ‘Nothing of importance. My life is mundane in the extreme. Since your mama took me all over the castle, even into the attics and the dungeons, I keep waiting for something else to happen.’
Fraser grinned. ‘Not enough excitement?’
‘Oh no, exactly the opposite. I was stared at covertly, smiled at knowingly and ignored properly. It was most unnerving. And as for your mama? The information she bombarded me with was staggering. Did you know it takes three footmen to move the wardrobe in your bedchamber so the maids can clean behind it? And that they do it once every month, whatever?’
Fraser rolled his eyes and shook his head. ‘I can honestly say I’ve never been privy to that news. What else?’
‘She’d love a water closet, thinks the idea of bathing chambers to each bedroom was inspired, and is wondering when best to approach you about a new range for the kitchens. After nigh on expiring with the heat when we went in, I must admit it is a bit outdated. Poor cook.’
‘I’ll make a point of innocently wandering into the kitchens and take a look,’ Fraser said. ‘So, did you enjoy your tour, or were you overwhelmed by the size of the place?’
‘What?’ She looked up at him and blushed as she understood what he meant. ‘No I was not at all overwhelmed. It… I love the castle, and remember for most of my life I have lived in a building designed with the same reason in mind. Welland is different but a castle nevertheless. Both are in my mind, perfect.’
‘And the laird, do you love him and is he perfect?’ Fraser raised one eyebrow and looked at her quizzically. ‘Or a hopeless case.’
Morven poked him on the arm. ‘Stop fishing for compliments, my lord. You know the answer to that.’
‘Oh I know.’ Fraser grabbed her hand and put it on his chest as he cuddled her and rested his chin on her head. ‘But I like to hear you say it.’
She wriggled to look up at him. ‘Your imperfections are what make me love you.’
****
Fraser tapped his riding crop on his hessians and stared at the man in front of him. ‘Wullie, I don’t care if you think the moon will fall out of the sky or the grass go blue if you divulge what I need to know. The air will turn blue and your ears will be blistered if you don’t. It’s a simple question with an even simpler answer. When will Tam and Beshlie appear?
Wullie scuffed his feet in the dirt of the track, where Fraser had come upon him by accident. Once he’d seen the other man, Fraser was determined he would get an answer.
‘You do want to have your kin at the games at Kintrain don’t you?’ A low blow, but Fraser was fast losing patience. ‘It’s easy enough for me to say no.’
Wullie blanched. ‘Ye wouldnae.’ However, he didn’t sound too certain.
‘I wouldn’t want to, no, but if I have to I will. Now, for the last time, what the hell do you know?’ He raised his voice and glared at Wullie. ‘This week? Next?’
Wullie sighed. ‘I’m thinking by the weekend. Three days at most. That’s nobbut a week before the games. If th
e field is ready.’ He grinned and clapped Fraser on the back so hard, Fraser rocked on his heels. ‘Ah, laddie, you’re so easy to rile. I was on my way to tell you that.’
Fraser had to laugh. ‘You old bugger. I should have known. What else were you going to tell me?’
Wullie spread his hands out wide. ‘Ah, nothing. Except Beshlie would like to see you and the lady afore the games.’
That could be easier said than done. ‘I’ll do my best,’ Fraser promised. If we can escape. ‘Where are they now?’
‘I dinnae ken.’ Wullie didn’t look Fraser in the eyes as he spoke, and seemed mighty interested in a spider’s web on a nearby fence.
It was obvious his statement was an untruth if there ever was one. However, Fraser accepted that Wullie had no intention of imparting the news whatever threats Fraser offered up to him. ‘As you say. Well, when you go to this place you say you do not know, tell Tam it’s the same field as usual, or the top field next to the copse.’ Where they had been the last time Fraser had seen them. ‘Just let me know which, and I’ll make sure the staff know.’
Wullie reddened and nodded. ‘The top field—I know that without asking. Where they used to go.’
Where you had always put them, seemed to be the unspoken comment. ‘Fine.’ Fraser held out his hand and after a second Wullie took it. ‘I’ll no doubt see you soon.’
‘Ah no doubt. Regards to your lady.’ Wullie doffed his cap and turned on his heel.
Fraser watched him go and shook his head in amusement. Wullie always knew more than he’d let on. However he wouldn’t share what he didn’t want to, so there was no point pressing him. Fraser turned back towards his horse. Retson would be waiting for him in the village and he didn’t want to be too late for their meeting.
By the time they’d spoken to all four families, Fraser’s head ached. How on earth could he say who was more deserving? The four families’ houses had been affected by a rogue horse and a runway wagon a week or so earlier, and he had hoped to make running repairs. However, on closer inspection he accepted the row of cottages weren’t really habitable.
The Scottish Lord’s Secret Bride Page 15