by Karen Ranney
Perhaps he had, once, but not since meeting McMahon.
“But now, I’m glad you married her. Overjoyed, in fact. I no longer need to worry about you.”
“There was no need to worry about me in any case, Mother.”
“Of course I did, you being so afraid of feeling anything.”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, Ross, I’ve watched you the last five years. You’ve been very proper, very contained, but I’m afraid it’s because you were afraid to be vulnerable again. You didn’t want to be hurt the way Cassandra hurt you.”
He stared out at the lake, not knowing how to respond.
“Then Elise came into your life. You’re half startled, half delighted she’s the way she is.”
He glanced over at her.
“I’ve watched you with her. It’s almost magical, the effect she has. You’ve laughed more in the last weeks than I’ve ever heard you. You smile more. You aren’t buried in the library at all hours.”
Had he changed that much? Yes, he had. He was—and for a moment he fumbled for the word—happy.
“Life is so much more magical when love is the filter through which you view it,” his mother said. “I’m not saying loving your father was comfortable. This time, I’d prefer to have my love returned.”
“Mr. McMahon.”
She wound her arm around his. “I hope so, dear.”
Had he ever known his mother? He was beginning to think not, just as he was wondering if life had been a giant mirage he’d never understood until now.
“Did you ever consider that it’s because of your father that the two of you married?”
He frowned at her. “What do you mean?”
“If you hadn’t been beset by nostalgia, you wouldn’t have gone to Drumvagen. You and Ellice wouldn’t have met.”
He’d never considered that, either.
“Are you in love with her, Ross?”
“Yes,” he said without having to consider it.
“Then why has she left?”
He turned to her. “What do you mean?”
She sighed. “I saw the carriage leave an hour ago, dear.”
“The carriage?”
Could he do nothing but ask questions?
“Ellice was in it, along with Pegeen.”
“You’re wrong.”
“I’m not, you know. Wherever has she gone?”
He couldn’t think. Nor could he put two words together. He left his mother standing there and flew down the stairs, his destination the stables.
She couldn’t leave him.
“She’s gone to Drumvagen, your lordship,” the stable master said.
“Ready a coach,” he told the man. “With the fastest horses I own.”
The man nodded and bowed his way out of Ross’s sight.
Was he that terrifying? Perhaps he was.
Ellice had left him.
He walked to his room, readying himself for the journey. If Macrath gave her safe harbor, he’d reason with the man. If that didn’t work, he’d fight for his wife. He’d damn well lay siege to Drumvagen.
She couldn’t leave him. Not now.
He felt like he’d been asleep before meeting Ellice. She made him wonder what she was thinking. She brought him amusement, and he’d not felt humor for a very long time. She forced him to examine himself. She challenged him to be a better man.
He wanted to share his future with her. He wanted to confide in her, tell her those thoughts that kept him awake for hours, those insecurities plaguing him.
How could he do all that if she left him?
What would you do for love, Ross?
Anything, for her.
“It’s a lovely place, isn’t it?” Pegeen said, peering out the window. “A bit small and all, after Huntly, but a charming house.”
She had never thought Drumvagen small, but compared to Huntly, it certainly was. Drumvagen could be placed in Huntly’s courtyard. But the house was noisy and filled with life, one thing that couldn’t be said about Huntly.
She had the driver go around to the back. When the carriage, a beautiful vehicle with pale gray velvet cushions and ebony lacquer exterior, finally stopped, she motioned for Pegeen to precede her.
Closing her eyes, she said a quick prayer that this task could be accomplished with a minimum of fuss. She wanted to talk to Virginia, first, while avoiding her mother.
That thought died a frustrating death the minute she stepped from the carriage.
“Oh, will you stop, you harridan!”
She sighed.
Macrath didn’t tolerate their arguing within Drumvagen, so Brianag and her mother tried to keep their battles either out of earshot or outside. Evidently, Macrath was in the house, which was the reason they were in garden.
“It’s not the province of a gardener to decide a lady’s garden. It’s for a lady to give the gardener instructions.”
Brianag said something incomprehensible, followed by her mother’s near scream.
She glanced at Pegeen, whose smile lightened her mood. Perhaps the two women were amusing if one didn’t have to hear them often.
She looked toward the kitchen door. Could she make it before either women realized a strange coach was in the drive?
No, she couldn’t.
“Child!”
Suddenly, she was enveloped in a flurry of fragrant black silk, her mother’s embrace nearly choking her. A moment later Enid stepped back and examined her, from the top of her head to her shoes, peeping out from beneath the hem of one of her new dresses.
At least she had the foresight to look like the Countess of Gadsden.
“Where is your dear husband? Why are you here? Is something wrong? Why have you come back to Drumvagen?”
In the next instant her mother had placed her hand over her mouth, her eyes widening.
“Don’t say you’ve left your husband, Ellice.” Before she could answer, her mother continued, “I won’t have it.”
Time seemed to slow as Ellice took a step back.
Pegeen, at her side, had the wisdom to retreat.
The breeze smelled of roses. Would she always smell them and think of Drumvagen? For that matter, would she always recall this exact moment?
Her heart beat a steady rhythm, but so loudly it echoed in her ears. Her mouth was dry and her movements slow as she lowered her hands to her sides, raised her head and straightened her shoulders.
Perhaps it was the time she’d spent as a wife, or being a countess in her own right. Perhaps it was being away from Drumvagen and her mother’s eternal meddling, chiding, and criticism. Or perhaps it was simply that she’d had enough and this point had to be reached sooner or later.
“I will not be spoken to in that tone,” she said to her mother.
Enid’s mouth gaped open. For only a moment, however, until she began to protest.
“You’ve gotten snippy since your marriage, haven’t you? I’ll not take that behavior from you, child. Your sister would never have disrespected me in such a fashion.”
“Enough!” Ellice held up her hand, her gaze never once leaving her mother.
“When have you ever respected me, Mother? I’m only a poor substitute for Eudora.” She took a deep breath. “I’m not Eudora,” she said. “I’m not your beloved daughter who died. I’m the one who lived. I’m tired of hearing about what my sister did or would have done. I suspect that Eudora would have silenced you long before now.”
She grabbed her skirts and walked around her mother, heading for the kitchen. At the door, she stopped and turned.
“Must I die before you begin to value me as well?”
Without looking back, she made her way inside, hearing Pegeen behind her.
With any luck she could finish her task and leave Drumvagen before her mother got over her shock and planned her retaliation.
A few minutes later she was in the nursery.
“I’ve offended my mother,” Ellice said to Virginia, placing her ret
icule on the table.
She’d left Pegeen in the kitchen. No doubt the girl was being plied with questions about her, Huntly, and Ross. Pegeen, however, was canny enough to survive any interrogation.
Without thought to grace or manners, Ellice dropped into the chair, waiting as Mary gathered up the two older children for a walk. The baby was asleep in the cradle beside Virginia.
When she apologized for interrupting, Virginia shook her head. “They’ll not suffer for the lack of me. Besides, it’s little enough time I get for myself. I’ll take your visit as the treat it is. Tell me why you’re here, but first, what did you say to your mother?”
“I told her that I wasn’t Eudora and I was tired of being compared to her,” Ellice said, both hands on the arms of the chair. She looked upward. Drumvagen did not have nearly the plaster adornments of Huntly. On every ceiling at Huntly there was either a god or goddess looking down at her or a gathering of cupids—what was more than one cupid called?—or a magnificent painted scene.
Although it was almost restive to find nothing on the ceiling at all, it was also disconcerting.
“What did she say to that?” Virginia asked, nodding when one of the maids entered with the tea things. Say what she would about Brianag, the woman always furnished refreshments without being asked.
“I left before she could say anything. But she gave me a fulminating look. No one can scowl in a ladylike way like my mother.”
Virginia leaned forward, selected a nut and chocolate biscuit, one of Cook’s best treats, and nibbled on the edge.
“I’m so very tired of her being disappointed that Eudora died and I didn’t.”
To her surprise, Virginia didn’t look the least startled by her words. She only smiled, poured the tea and handed Ellice her cup.
“Enid is one of those people who will take advantage of every iota of tolerance,” Virginia said, taking another of the chocolate and nut biscuits. “If you don’t say anything, she will assume you don’t care. You must make your wishes known each and every time she says something. Until, of course, she finally learns that you mean what you say.”
“I always thought you and mother were in perfect agreement.”
Virginia laughed. “I doubt we were ever in perfect agreement over anything,” she said, to Ellice’s surprise. “The only thing we did well, evidently, is hide it.”
“But you get along now, don’t you?”
Virginia nodded. “But it took some time until your mother understood she wasn’t to criticize Macrath or Drumvagen, or me, for that matter.”
“She doesn’t,” Ellice said, realizing it. “I’ve never heard her say anything bad about you or Macrath. Although she does occasionally criticize Drumvagen, but that’s only to Brianag and only to annoy her, I suspect.”
Virginia sighed. “Ah, the only two devils in my perfect heaven. But for the two of them, peace would reign at Drumvagen.”
The far off sound of a child’s scream of protest made her smile. “Almost,” she said.
Virginia offered her the plate of biscuits, and Ellice took one, staring down at it.
“But you didn’t come to Drumvagen to have an argument with your mother.”
“I came for two reasons,” she said. “One of them was to talk to you.”
Virginia didn’t ask why, merely sat silent.
“Marriage is exceedingly complicated,” Ellice finally said.
“Exceedingly.”
“Men are even more so.”
“I concur,” Virginia said.
“Even Macrath?” Ellice asked, surprised.
“More than most.”
That made her feel marginally better, although she wasn’t sure why.
“I don’t know if I like Huntly, even though it’s a lovely place.”
“You need to make it yours,” Virginia said.
She returned the biscuit to the plate. “How?”
“When I came to Drumvagen, it was already built. Macrath had done everything he wanted in his home. Each door, each window, each painting, was exactly the way he wanted it. It took some time, but I had to make my mark here as well.”
“The Rose Parlor,” Ellice guessed. Virginia had turned what had once been a lovely rose suite into a sitting room and small library. The two rooms had been renamed the Rose Parlor.
Virginia nodded. “And a new conservatory we’re having built.”
“Very well, I might learn to live at Huntly. How do I learn to live with a husband?”
“You’ve been married less than a month,” Virginia said, her eyes soft. “It’s a difficult time.”
“It’s a hideous time,” Ellice said, blowing out a breath. “I adore the man and he barely tolerates me.”
“Why do you think that?”
Reaching forward, she picked up the biscuit again and took a bite from it. She chewed slowly and deliberately so she wouldn’t have to speak.
She didn’t want to tell Virginia about the interludes of passion followed by being ignored. Certain things should not be shared, even among women who loved each other.
“He has never said anything to me,” she finally explained.
“Men don’t, as a rule. They say things that make you guess it’s ‘I love you.’ Women, on the other hand, are more direct. We prefer the words.”
Ellice nodded.
She wasn’t sure Ross could ever love her, not the way she wanted. Not the way she’d always dreamed of being loved. She wanted to be herself, seen as who she truly was, and have the man she loved know and cherish that woman.
“Does he know how you feel about him?” Virginia asked.
“How do you hide that sort of thing?”
“It’s very possible he doesn’t know,” Virginia said. “You need to make sure he does. Then fight for him.”
“Even if I have to fight him?”
“Oh, yes,” Virginia said, laughing. “Especially then.”
She smiled, an easier expression now than fifteen minutes ago.
“What’s the second reason you’ve come?”
She told Virginia, finished her tea and stood.
“I’d better be going,” she said. “I want to be back at Huntly tonight.”
She kissed Virginia on the cheek, thanked her, and was making her way to the door when Virginia spoke again.
“About Enid.”
She stopped and turned.
“I think it’s time you stood up for yourself. I wish you’d done so years ago.”
That, too, made her feel better. With a lighter step, she made her way to the cottage.
Chapter 31
“Where is my wife?”
Virginia frowned at the Earl of Gadsden, not at all surprised to see him so shortly after Ellice left the house.
“Do not refer to Ellice as if she’s a hat you’ve misplaced, your lordship.”
He surprised her by nodding. “You’re right,” he said, running his fingers through his hair. “You’re right, of course. Do you know where she is?”
“Yes.”
He frowned at her. “Are you going to tell me?”
She tilted her head and studied him. “I’m not entirely sure,” she said. “What did you do to her?”
His face took on the appearance of stone.
“What did she say?”
“Absolutely nothing, but Ellice would not have.” She regarded him with a frown. “I’ve known Ellice since she was fifteen,” she said, reaching for the pot.
He shook his head and she shrugged, pouring herself a cup of tea. She didn’t care if the Earl of Gadsden was impatient; he was simply going to have to hear what she had to say.
“I’ve always found her to be a reasonable girl. One who tries to accommodate people. Perhaps too much. She surrenders her own happiness to keep peace.”
Virginia sat back and sipped from her tea. She enjoyed this brew. In an hour or so Brianag would bring her the nightly tea she drank. She was determined to acquire a taste for it as well.
“I thou
ght marriage would bring her happiness,” she said, studying him. “Why isn’t she blissfully happy, your lordship?”
She smothered a smile at his look.
“If you’ll pardon me for saying, Mrs. Sinclair, that is none of your business.”
His frown was back, just a gentle lowering of his brows, but his eyes had turned icy.
“Is there nothing about her that you like?”
He surprised her by smiling. “Your husband has a theory about wives and what it means when you talk about them,” he said. “Is that why you’re asking me about Ellice?”
She shook her head. “No, I’m just trying to decide if I’m going to tell you where she is.”
“I like a great deal about her, Mrs. Sinclair. She admires my library. She’s fond of my mother. My mother is well on her way to adoring her. She seems to make my staff happy. They smile a great deal around her. She’s a little messy, but so am I. She thinks about things I never would. I never know what she’s going to say. Or do,” he added.
“Is that such a bad thing?”
He sent her such a fierce glare that she was almost intimidated. However, she’d been married to Macrath long enough that she wasn’t cowed by a stubborn man.
“No,” he said, finally. “It isn’t. It’s startling and different and uncomfortable at times but it isn’t a bad thing at all.”
She took another sip of her tea.
“Will you tell me where she is?” The ice was gone from his eyes. “Please.”
“You don’t know why she came to Drumvagen, do you?”
Once again he gave her an impatient look, a quick glance from his gray eyes that said he would just as soon dispense with any further conversation and find his wife.
“She’s at the crofter’s cottage,” she said.
He frowned. “The one on the way to Drumvagen?”
She nodded. “You can follow the road or cut through the glen,” she said. “Either way, you’ll find her there.”
He made his excuses with enough haste to border on rudeness.
She chuckled as he left, imagining their confrontation. Ellice would give as good as she got, which is exactly what she should do. Being in love was no excuse to be a carpet for a man.
The more stubborn the man, the more obstinate the wife needed to be. After all, it was only fair.