The Wish Club

by Stella Cameron

  “What can you be talking about? I am simply a man with a steel stake in search of a suitably deep hole.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Max avoided looking at Kirsty. He strode along beside her through the corridors leading to her rooms. She’d asked to be allowed to go alone, but he’d refused.

  To say that this had been an extraordinary day would be to take understatement to ridiculous levels. First the humiliating debacle with the Rashly woman, then his gentle Kirsty behaving like a strumpet and babbling as if she were losing her mind.

  He caught her elbow and pulled her to face him. “All I ask is that you explain yourself.”

  “I canna.” Her chin came up defiantly, but her mouth trembled. “Ye’re hurtin’ me. And ye frighten me.”

  He released her arm. “You make me want to break something.”

  “Ye’re badly behaved, Max Rossmara. Ye shame yoursel’.”

  “And you speak out of turn, girl. How dare you?”

  She stood very straight. “I dare. I’ll no’ be afraid o’ ye.”

  He planted his fists on his hips and put his face close to hers. “What was all that back there? In that awful room of Blanche’s? Where would you learn such things?”

  “I only sought t’please ye.”

  “And you did please me—until my mind cleared.” He kept his voice low. “After all, I am only a man, and I have been sorely tried. Only tell me who educated you in the ways of the flesh, and I shall be satisfied.”

  She pursed her lips and shook her head.

  “Do I know him?”

  She shook her head, no, again.

  “I do. That’s why you won’t tell me. But I’ll find out, and he won’t work these lands again.”

  “Och, ye’re no’ thinkin’ Max. If I’d been wi’ another man, would it be his sin, any more than mine?”

  “You were an innocent.”

  “And a man canna be an innocent?”

  “Not if he’s able to instruct you in the finer points of, well, the finer points.”

  “It wasna a man.” Her eyes filled with tears and she bowed her head.

  Max worked his jaw. “Not a man? I don’t think I understand.”

  “It was . . . a book,” she said. “I read it in a book.”

  “What book?”

  “Just a book I found in one o’ the libraries here.”

  She was lying to him. “When I asked you what you were thinking about, you said Kirkcaldy.”

  “I didna know what I was sayin’. It was the first thing that came t’me, I suppose.” She glanced at him, and away again. “Ye didna seem t’mind me touchin’ ye until then.”

  “Mind? What man would mind being touched so by you. Kirsty, please tell me the truth about it. I’ve no right to expect your faith, but I’d like to know how many men there have been.”

  “How like a man,” she said, and swallowed. “What would ye say if I asked ye how many women there’d been for ye?”

  “It’s not the same.” Blood pounded at his temples. The battle to remain calm rarely left him now.

  “Why?”

  He would not debate the issue with her. “It is different for a man. Let that be an end of it.”

  “Verra well. I agree. It’s an end o’ it. I can go alone from here. I know the way.”

  He struggled with his pride. “It doesn’t matter,” he said. “I want you. I can’t help myself.”

  “And I love ye,” she said, so quietly, he was drawn to bend over her. “I’ve loved ye since I was a lass.”

  Max backed her to the wall and braced a hand on either side of her head. “We’re in a pretty fix, Kirsty Mercer. There’s none who would approve of us being together.”

  She turned her face away.

  The tender skin at the side of her neck was very white. He kissed her lightly there, and she leaned against him, held him as tightly as she could. “There has never been another man, Max Rossmara. Ye can believe me or not, but it’s true.”

  Perhaps he didn’t want to believe her, but he did. “I thought you’d accidentally told me what was on your mind. That you thought to better yourself at Kirkcaldy through an association with me. I’m a fool sometimes.”

  “That ye are,” she said, still hanging on to him. “We’ve wasted the whole mornin’. Ye’ll want your lunch soon enough, and we’ve no’ done anythin’ useful.”

  “We’ll be riding out this afternoon. I’d best get you to your rooms so you can change.”

  “I’d rather not go.”

  “I want you reconciled with your parents.”

  Slowly she dropped her arms. “Every day I expect them t’send for me, but the message never comes.”

  Just as she uttered these words, they turned the corner toward his quarters, and hers, to discover Niall Mercer lounging in the doorway to Kirsty’s sitting room. When he saw them, he straightened, and he stared at Max. There was none of the old friendliness in that stare.

  “Niall!” Kirsty ran forward to hug her brother. “What are you doing here?”

  “Mairi showed me where you’re livin’. I told her ye’d no’ mind if I waited for ye here.”

  “O’ course I don’t mind. Och, we’ve hardly been parted but I’ve missed ye. Let me look at ye.” She stood back, smiling as Max hadn’t seen her smile since she’d come to the castle with him. “I’d not realized what a fine man ye are, and that’s not only because ye’re my brother that I say it. Ye must be fightin’ off the lassies all the time.”

  “I’ve no patience for that now. I’m too worried about ye and Father and Mother.”

  “Are your parents unwell?” Max asked moving forward and waving Niall into Kirsty’s sitting room. “I plan to visit them this afternoon.”

  He noted how Kirsty went directly to the window seat and sat there quietly, as if removing herself from the men’s conversation. This behavior in a woman like Kirsty surprised him.

  “Your parents,” he began again, addressing Niall.

  “They’re well enough. They keep t’themselves, and that’s mayhap for the better. There’s a lot o’ talk about ye and Kirsty and what it means, an’ our mother and father dinna know what t’say. They love their daughter.”

  “Of course they do,” Max said quickly. “When I come to see them I’m sure I’ll be able to put some of their misgivings to rest.”

  “This afternoon?” Niall said.

  “This afternoon. Within three hours or so. Will you tell them I’m coming?”

  Niall considered, then said, “Aye, I’ll tell them, and I’ll be there, too. I’ll warn ye, it’ll not be easy. People are worried about their daughters. People all around. They’re no’ allowin’ them far from home.”

  “Worried about their daughters? Good God, man, what can you be suggesting?”

  “I’m tellin’ ye the way o’ it. They’re afraid the lairds are takin’ to pickin’ out young girls to amuse themselves with the while.”

  Max felt sweat break out on his brow. His breathing grew shallower, and holding his tongue cost him a great deal.

  “We’re simple people.” Niall eyed Kirsty. “We set great stock in lookin’ after our own and each other.”

  “Damn!” Max lost his battle to remain calm. “Kirsty and I have been friends for many years. She is here to do a job. How dare the people who make their living on these lands presume to make some dark tale out of that. I’ve a good mind to raise their—” he stopped himself before he could say anything that would be too hard to take back. A crystal bowl rested near his left hand. He swept it up and threw it against the fireplace, where it smashed in pieces too small to be identifiable.

  Kirsty let out a small cry.

  “I didna say I shared the concern,” Niall said quickly. “Ye can rely on me t’do my best t’back ye up. When I was a wee lad ye were like a brother t’me. And I know ye care about Kirsty. I regret causin’ so much difficulty for ye.”

  “It’s the small-minded peasants who have been sheltered from the ways of the
world who are causing difficulties,” Max ground out. “They deserve to be taught some lessons. The first should be that they have no place criticizing their masters. This family has clung to ways discarded by many because they would not allow the people they call their own to suffer, or to lose what they’ve worked for. Curse small minds. I shall speak to the marquess. We must consider making some changes.”

  “No, Max,” Kirsty burst out. “Dinna punish them for bein’ wary. They love ye—they love all the Rossmaras.”

  “They do,” Niall said. “Ye dinna understand how it is when people who’ve lived the same for many generations have a change put on them. My mother and father know that ye and Kirsty were verra close. They know ye loved each other in the manner o’ the young. But they also know there can be no way for ye to take Kirsty t’ye in an honorable way because ye’re from different worlds, and ye’d never want a wife wi’ naught but lowly beginnings.”

  Max felt the fight go out of him. How could he argue this point when he’d already asked Kirsty to be his mistress? “I’ll speak with them this afternoon,” he said with a sense of hopelessness.

  “Aye,” Niall agreed. He walked about the room, out of place in his rough woolen jerkin and trousers, and his dusty, laced boots. The wind that rarely left the hills had tossed his dark hair around but that only served to make him more striking. His face was fine-boned, but hard physical labor had honed his body, and strength emanated from him.

  “It’s a fancy place, Kirsty,” he said, bending to look at porcelains and miniatures, and the many exquisite pieces that graced tables and chests. “I’ve never seen the like so close. D’ye not feel like ye’re in a fairy story?”

  “A little,” she said softly. “But I’m here t’work, so I dinna spend much time admirin’ it all.”

  “What d’ye call the game?” Niall asked. “It’s the one ye taught her, Max, isn’t it?”

  “Parcheesi,” Max told him promptly, then stared at the leather-covered board that had been Ella’s and muttered, “I’m damned.”

  “It’s back,” Kirsty said. “How funny. Back just where it was. I’ll ask Mairi if she knows anythin’ about it.”

  Niall had already lost interest in the board and moved on, but Max bent to examine the unusually large pieces and looked at Kirsty. “Too bad we can’t seem to keep everything together for long. Two pieces are gone. Never mind.”

  She frowned. “But they’re made o’—”

  “Never mind,” he said quickly. Such discussions need not take place in front of Niall. “No doubt they needed repair.”

  Kirsty nodded and subsided into her shadowy nook.

  “What are ye talkin’ about?” Niall asked. “Has somethin’ been stolen?”

  Max sighed. There was little point in pretending. “This room was ransacked the other night and that Parcheesi board was one of the things that was missing. The pieces were left behind. Now—while Kirsty was elsewhere—the board has been returned but two of the silver pieces have been removed. All very troublesome.”

  “A thief,” Niall said, his dark brows drawn together. “What if he came while our Kirsty was here? He’d like want t’make sure she couldn’t tell who he was.”

  Max’s mouth felt as if he’d eaten dust. “We won’t speculate on that.”

  “That means we won’t think about it, doesn’t it? I’ll think about it. I’ll no’ have a peaceful hour until I know my sister’s no’ likely t’be set upon by thieves.”

  “Then you can start feeling peaceful.” Max clapped a hand on the younger man’s shoulder. “I’ll make sure Kirsty’s watched over, but I doubt there’ll be a repeat. Whoever did this will be too afraid to try his luck again.”

  “And who’ll do the watchin’ over her?” Niall asked. “You?”

  “Yes,” Max said, meeting the other’s eyes. “Yes, I’ll be watching over her. She’s my responsibility.”

  Kirsty’s, “Oh, Max, ye shouldna say it,” was faint. He didn’t look at her.

  “What d’ye intend then?” Niall asked.

  What could he say? Max asked himself. He no longer knew the answer.

  “T’use her?” Niall demanded. “Don’t expect me t’believe ye’ve no interest but in her mind.”

  “I do expect you to believe it,” Max said, grasping at the opportunity Niall had given him. “Yes, Kirsty is important to me because we’ve been friends a long time. But you should know that there can be nothing between us but a professional relationship.” He took a deep breath. “Why, I’d return her to her family at once if I thought it would be for the best.”

  “It wouldna be for the best,” Niall said. “Not now. Mayhap later when ye’re married t’the lady from The Hallows and if ye can convince the people ye’re no’ a heartless debaucher.”

  “Niall!” Kirsty jumped to her feet. “Be silent, lad, before ye bring Max’s anger on your head.”

  “Oh, aye, I must be careful o’ his anger. It’s well enough known throughout the estate that Max Rossmara’s anger is a fearsome thing. Another thing we worry about. What if he turns his blackness on ye, Kirsty? Ye’re a wee thing and no’ used t’violence.”

  Max knew he must not retaliate or he would only fuel the rumors. “Today,” he said quietly, “I will do my best to allay any fears in that direction.”

  With a troubled expression, Niall looked to his sister. “I’d wanted t’see ye was all. I miss ye, Kirsty.”

  “I miss ye, too. I didna want t’be told t’stay away from home. I never thought o’ such a pass.”

  “No. I’ll do my best to change things there. I’d best away now. D’ye have designs on her, Max Rossmara?”

  The question was unexpected and Max felt the color drain from his face. “My design is for her to be the best she can be.” He bent the truth, but he would not admit how his desire for Kirsty had made him into the different, the more driven man they spoke of as possessed of black humors.

  “Have ye taken her, then?”

  To look at Kirsty would be unbearable. “I have not,” he said, grateful that in this, at least, he still told the truth.

  “Then I remind ye that she’s an innocent and deservin’ o’ your respect. There’s a great deal o’ talk. Ye’re bein’ blamed—called heartless. They say ye’re a deflowerer o’ innocent young girls.”

  “I’m not a young girl,” Kirsty snapped. “I’m five-and-twenty and I’ll thank ye t’stop speakin’ as if I’m not here. Max has never tried t’force himself on me. I’m ashamed for ye that ye’d suggest such a thing.”

  She was protecting him! She was, in fact, lying for him. No, he hadn’t gone as far with her as he might have, but he’d done more than he should.

  Niall Mercer studied his boots. He changed his weight from one foot to the other, then regarded Max. “Verra well. I’ll away now. And I’ll be on your side when ye visit.”

  Max nodded. Would any of them know real peace again?

  When Niall had left, Kirsty remained near the window and didn’t speak. Max weighed the silver Parcheesi pieces and struggled with his conscience, his concern for her safety, and the knowledge that he knew what he should do. He should make sure her reputation was intact and be prepared to return her to her home, and, when the children returned from Cornwall, to her old job.

  He heard the rustle of her skirts, then felt her at his elbow. “There’s no goin’ back for me now,” she said. “Ye know that, don’t ye?”

  “I’m not sure. Perhaps—”

  “People never forget. They decide somethin’, and that’s the way it stays. In time my position here will be accepted. There’ll be hard times for a while, but I’m up t’them, and they’ll no’ affect ye.”

  “What affects you, affects me.”

  She laughed—a sad laugh. “No, no, we both know otherwise.”

  “You’re still determined to carry on here with me?”

  “It was your own idea, my bonnie friend. Ye were determined enough yoursel’ when ye suggested it.”

  She m
ade him feel so much less mature than she was. “I did. And I was. I’d like to teach you about the way we make the most of the land now. A great deal has changed.” And he didn’t want to let her go.

  “Aye. I’ve seen it, although ye’ve chosen t’allow people like my father to go on as they were. I’m no’ certain there’s another estate in Scotland like this one.”

  “We are a wealthy estate. What we’ve done has served us well. We’ve moved with the times and preserved some of what made Kirkcaldy so successful. We’re well pleased.”

  “And you want me t’be here with ye, Max.”

  He stroked her hair, he couldn’t restrain himself. “You know I do. You’ll have a good life here. And if you want to leave me later—if there’s someone you think you’d like to make a life with, then I won’t stand in your way.”

  “And you won’t mind? You’d watch me go to another man and be happy for me?”

  The pressure in his throat was as if a great hand had closed on his neck. “I’ll mind, and I’ll watch you go with murder in my heart. For him—whoever he may be.” Please God he’d have the strength to keep that murderousness locked inside his heart.

  “You’ll never have to mind, Max. And if you’ve ever murder in your heart, it won’t be because of any act o’ mine.”

  She stood where he could see the silvery bloom on her skin, and the softness of her lips, the smooth moistness just inside, her small teeth, the way her tongue moved as she spoke.

  Her breasts rose and fell gently.

  Her eyes, when he looked into them, were waiting for him to concentrate on her, really on her. He smiled. “If I kissed you, would I be forcing myself on you?”

  She shook her head, stood on tiptoe, and touched her mouth to his.

  Max slipped an arm around her, supported her, and let the kiss be one of promise, of such sweetness that he ached. He was a man of the world, yet with her he was different. Just holding her stripped away the layers of cynicism. She made him new, new and open to the promise of what it would be like to allow her innocence to soften the toughness, the anger that so often colored the world a darker place.