The Scoundrel's Pleasure

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The Scoundrel's Pleasure Page 12

by Jane Bonander


  “Why didn’t she tell me the truth?” Ian asked.

  “Ye’ll have to ask her, my boy.”

  With such an opening, Isobel stepped outside. “Yes, Ian, you’ll have to ask me.”

  He turned toward her and she was relieved she didn’t see tears. Just questions.

  “Mam?”

  Isobel led him to the garden chairs and they both took a seat. Hamish stood nearby. “Oh, my darling boy,” she began. “All those years ago it seemed just an innocent story to smooth over all the questions that people might have had of me. Questions about the father of my baby, who, unfortunately, had sailed for America before he even knew about you.”

  “Mister Duncan.”

  “Actually, I believe his title is His Lordship. And I had no reason to believe he would return. It isn’t easy to admit, but we didn’t know one another well, I’m afraid. And making up a story about a man who died bravely seemed an innocent thing to me at the time.”

  Ian was quiet for a long while. Suddenly he turned to her and asked, “Does that mean I’m an Indian too?”

  “Partly, yes.”

  His eyes got big. “Wait ’til the kids at school learn about this.”

  “That’s all you have to say about it?” She nearly laughed.

  “It’s something no one else I know can say,” he replied.

  “That’s true enough.”

  “Where does Mister Duncan live?”

  Isobel wondered when, or if, he’d ever call the man Da. “I’ll let him tell you about that,” she answered. “He’s still in the great room. Why don’t you ask him?”

  She watched Ian dash inside. “He’s taking this better than I expected.”

  “Aye, Izzy, he’s a happy lad. He was lied to, aye, but to learn his da is an Indian, why that’s about as good as living in a fairy tale, y’see.”

  There it was again: fairy tale. “Lily is bound and determined to compare this entire story as a fairy tale; I’d have thought ye were beyond such dreams, Hamish.”

  “Nae, everyone loves a fairy tale.”

  She studied her big friend, noting the weather-worn face, the bright blue eyes, the wild red hair. His expression was wistful and Isobel felt a stab of guilt. How different all of their lives would have been if Duncan MacNeil had never returned.

  Chapter Ten

  Duncan was just leaving the great room when Ian nearly skidded to a stop in front of him. “Yes, Ian?”

  “Mam told me to ask you where you lived on the island.”

  “She did, did she? Where is she now?”

  “She’s in the garden with Hamish,” he answered.

  “I tell you what. You go and ask her if it’s all right for me to take you there.” He watched Ian race back outside. When he returned, Isobel was with him.

  “You want to take him there?” Her question was cautious.

  “Is there a better way to explain it all to him?” Duncan asked. He could see the anguish she was trying to hide. “Do you want to ride along?”

  She quickly shook her head. “No. No, no. I’ll have my baptism by fire soon enough.”

  He felt a jolt of sympathy for her situation. Suddenly being thrust into his family, their lives, their inquisitiveness about her and Ian; certainly it was terrifying for her. “I’m sorry you feel that way.” He gave her a lopsided smile. “We’re really not such a bad bunch.”

  She appeared reluctant to return the smile, but it appeared anyway. “I’m sure you’re not, but after all these years…I’ve been here, in this ramshackle building, and they’ve been up there,” she said, glancing toward the window.

  “They will love you, Isobel.” He almost said “as I do,” but stopped himself. Where in the hell had that thought come from?

  She waved off the comment. “Off with you two or you won’t be back before dark.”

  “Isobel,” Duncan said, “think about a day for the wedding. Do whatever makes you feel comfortable. We can do it alone, or with family. Naturally I’d prefer to have my family there, and I know Delilah, Henry, and Lily would be very put out if they weren’t invited.”

  Isobel watched them go off on Duncan’s mount, Ian tucked comfortably in front of his da. His da. She would have to get used to that. And she had to plan a wedding. She was to marry His Lordship Duncan MacNeil! Unbelievable. Her emotions were in tatters. What would she wear? She had sewn beautiful gowns for many women in the community, but had never had one herself. And she didn’t have time to sew one now, nor did she have the means to purchase the material. All of these preparations suddenly made her want to curl up into a ball and go into hibernation. And she had butterflies, just as if this were something she had looked forward to all of her life. But these butterflies were different; they weren’t ones of excited anticipation; they were of fear of the unknown, maybe even dread.

  Lily called to her from the classroom. “Could you come here a moment, please?” She was holding a letter and her expression appeared quizzical.

  “What is it?”

  She handed Isobel the letter and she read it. When she’d finished she glanced up at Lily. “So, the elderly couple you helped and lived with left you something in their will. That’s wonderful, Lily!”

  “But that means I have to travel to Ayr to meet with the solicitor. How can I leave the children for that long?”

  Isobel returned the letter. “Oh, Lily, I can manage for a while, believe me. I did it before you came along, and although you’re much better at it, I can fill in while you’re gone.”

  “Will I miss the wedding?” Lily asked.

  “Hmmm. I don’t even know when it’s going to be yet. Don’t worry about that—we’ll all be here when you return and we’ll be so excited to hear what the solicitor had to say.”

  “What about Fifi? I can’t take her with me.”

  “Fifi will be just fine with me. I’ll watch her carefully and keep her out of Delilah’s hair.”

  Lily glanced at the floor. “You know, she always sleeps with me, Isobel.”

  “She can sleep with Ian. He’d probably be delighted to have a bedmate.”

  Lily hugged her. “You are such a dear.”

  Someone rapped lightly on the schoolroom door. “Excuse me, ladies.”

  They turned to find the duke standing in the doorway.

  The MacNeil gave her a short bow.

  Isobel supplied a small curtsy. “Your Grace.” Of course, she had seen him before, but not this close. He was every bit as handsome as his brother. Older, of course, showing some flecks of gray in his thick, black hair, but very distinguished.

  “Please, call me Fletcher,” he asked. “And I should have come before. I’ve been very narrow sighted about this entire cannery project, not taking into consideration anyone else’s feelings but my own. For that I apologize. Sometimes I get so wrapped up in a project I don’t see warning signs around me.”

  Isobel was pleased. “I must say I felt as though I was losing control of everything. But truthfully, if we can make all of us happy, you included, I won’t cause any more trouble.” What good would it do? This man standing before her was going to be her brother-in-law. He had a lawyer on his side. He had money and power and…holy saints, they were going to be related. Suddenly she felt faint and steadied herself by grabbing the back of a chair.

  “I’ve been meaning to meet Miss Varga as well. I hear she’s been a very big help to you while we look for another schoolmaster.” He turned to Lily, whose eyes were like saucers. “Do you have training as a teacher, Miss Varga?”

  Lily, who was surprised at being addressed by the duke, shook her head. “I have no formal training, Your Grace,” she answered, a slight quaver in her voice.

  “Be that as it may, perhaps there will be a place for you in the school anyway.”

  Lily appeared too startled to respond, but she smiled and nodded.

  He looked at Isobel, his expression grim. “May I speak with you on another matter?”

  “Certainly,” she said with caut
ion. “We can go into the small salon off the great room. This way,” she said.

  The duke bade farewell to Lily and followed Isobel from the classroom into the room she used as a study. She offered him a chair, and they both sat.

  He bit his lower lip and studied the worn carpet. “I’m not quite sure why I feel I must confide my suspicions to you, but I’m compelled to.”

  Isobel was instantly alert. “Suspicions?”

  The duke appeared troubled. “Many years ago, before Rosalyn and I were married, indeed before she came to live at Castle Sheiling, she endured a hideous marriage. She had no notion that it was bad until after they had a daughter, whom they named Fiona. Soon after Fiona’s birth, Rosalyn discovered her husband’s ugly proclivities and left him.

  “To make a long story short, after Rosalyn left her husband, he kidnapped Fiona. There was a search, of course, but the only body that was recovered was his. He had drowned. There was no sign of Fiona; everyone assumed she had drowned as well.”

  “How terrible.” Isobel felt a sting behind her eyes.

  “Yes,” he said. “She still carries a wound in her heart from the loss.”

  “Why are you telling me all of this?” She wondered if it was because they would all soon be related, but it was a strange introduction to the family.

  He inhaled deeply, releasing the air in a rush. “After hearing Miss Varga’s story from both Geddes and Fenella, I thought I should look in on the young woman myself. You see, Rosalyn’s daughter, Fiona, had a little doll she kept with her always.” He paused, as if waiting for Isobel to gather it all in. Then he added, “She named it Fifi.”

  Isobel gasped, finally understanding. “You’re saying that…you think it’s possible that Lily is your wife’s daughter?”

  “I know it sounds irrational, but the moment Fen met Lily and heard her story, she was overwhelmed with a feeling that she already knew the young woman. Geddes, too, said he got chills up the back of his neck when he spoke with her.”

  “Considering how she was found, I guess it’s certainly possible. What are you going to do now?”

  The duke scrunched his forehead into a frown. “I have to think of a way to introduce all of this to Rosalyn. Even though we might be enthusiastic about the possibility of reuniting mother and daughter, we have to be absolutely certain before we do so. Otherwise it would send Rosalyn spiraling, I’m afraid.”

  “Indeed it would,” Isobel agreed. “Just before you came into the room, Lily showed me a letter she has received from a solicitor in Ayr. The elderly family she lived with has apparently left her something in their will, so she’ll be gone for a bit. I don’t know if this is good news or bad for you.”

  “It actually gives me good reason to put off approaching Rosalyn about this.”

  “I’ll be sure to let you know when she returns,” Isobel promised.

  “That would be fine. Thank you.” He stood. “I’m glad we could talk. And perhaps one day in the next few weeks we can all sit down and work out a satisfactory deal for the cannery.”

  She didn’t want to give him any reason to regret taking her into his confidence. “I’m sure we can come to an arrangement we all can live with.”

  She walked him to the door and watched as he pulled himself easily into the saddle of a beautiful mount.

  Delilah came up behind her. “What did he want? Was it about the wedding?”

  Isobel shook her head. “Just to say that in a few weeks we can sign the paperwork for the sale of the building.”

  Delilah studied his retreating form. “He never did visit the brothel, you know.”

  Isobel raised her eyebrows. “I didn’t know that. It’s nice to hear there are a few men who take their marriage vows seriously.”

  “’Course your future husband tried many times, but I never let him in. Never.”

  “That’s probably why he scoured the island looking for willing lassies. We all might have been better off if you’d let him in.”

  “Then we would never have had Ian, would we?”

  • • •

  Duncan and Ian had arrived on castle grounds. The boy sat straight as a board, trying to take everything in. “This is really all yours?”

  “Well, not mine exactly. It belongs to my brother, Fletcher. He’s the lord of the manor, so to speak.”

  “Gee. I’ve seen it from a distance, you know, but…It’s really a castle.” His voice was filled with awe. He turned and pointed to one of the out buildings. “Is that the stable? Do you have a lot of horses?”

  “Yes, that’s the stable, and yes, we have horses.” They trotted to the stable and Duncan helped Ian slide off the mount. After he dismounted, he threw the reins to Evan.

  “Evan, may I present to you my son, Ian? Evan, as it turns out, is your uncle.”

  Evan reached out and shook the boy’s hand. “Nice to meet you, Ian.” A huge, scruffy dog with bushy gray eyebrows meandered over to them and stuck his nose into Ian’s face.

  “This is Bear,” Evan said.

  Ian reached out and stroked the dog’s chin. “Well, hello, Bear.”

  Duncan was proud that his son wasn’t afraid of the beast. “Let’s go up to the house.”

  But before they got there, Rosalyn came running outside, her skirts flying out behind her.

  “Oh, oh, this must be Ian.” She stopped in front of them, her face wreathed in smiles. She appeared to want to hug the boy, but restrained herself. “Come inside. Rabbie and Rory have just finished with their French lessons and are ever so eager to meet their new cousin!”

  Ian stared up at Duncan. “I have cousins?”

  Duncan nodded and placed his hand on Ian’s shoulder. “And much, much more.” He watched Ian and Rosalyn walk swiftly to the castle.

  Duncan strolled to the stable, stepped inside, and found the old hound, Bear, sprawled on a blanket. He raised his enormous head as Duncan sat down on a stool beside him. Duncan scratched the hound’s scruffy ears. Evan came out from the back room.

  “I have to apologize to you,” Duncan began. “I treated you like the hired help when I lived here before, and there’s no excuse for my behavior.”

  Evan reached down and stroked his dog’s back. “I was the hired help. No harm done.”

  “What have you been doing these past ten years, besides keeping my brother in line?” Duncan teased.

  “Actually, Geddes has been teaching me the ins and outs of law. Not that I ever want to be a lawyer, but both Fletcher and I agreed that it would be good to have the knowledge under my belt.” He saddled his mount. “I imagine we’ll be seeing a lot of each other,” he said as he urged the mount out of the stable. “I’ll be looking forward to it.”

  He looked up as Kerry stepped in, leading her mare. “Duncan! What a nice surprise. You’ve been terribly busy.” She brought the horse to her stall, made sure the mare had water and oats, then began grooming her. “What are you doing out here all by yourself?”

  Kerry was petite and lovely, although she wasn’t a fragile woman. Her long, thick, dark hair was pulled back and held in place with a length of leather, and she wore a pair of wide-legged trousers that were hemmed just below the knee. Her white blouse was open at the neck and the sleeves were rolled up above her elbows.

  “Ian is inside getting acquainted with his cousins.”

  “Oh, how wonderful. Duncan, can you really believe you have a son after all these years?”

  “It’s nothing short of a miracle,” he answered. He watched her work for a while, recalling Fletcher’s words about Kerry and the island. “Are you happy here, Kerry?”

  She turned and gave him a strange look. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “Have you ever thought of returning to Texas?”

  She stopped brushing her mount and studied him. “Why do you ask that?”

  “Because you didn’t want to leave in the first place.”

  “Oh, but that was ten years ago. I’ve adjusted to Scotland, although I admit there are thin
gs about Texas I will always miss.” She began her grooming again. “How about you? Are you here to stay, or will you return to Texas?”

  “No, I’m here to stay.” And he was. There was no going back now, nor did he have any desire to.

  “You left the ranch in good hands, did you?”

  “I did, but it’s temporary. I hate to leave it at that indefinitely. I’m thinking of hiring someone to take over the entire operation.”

  She finished her chores and pulled up a stool beside him. “Someone from Texas?”

  “Not necessarily.” His mind was going fast. He looked at the young woman who had been such a troublesome child when she arrived at Castle Sheiling ten years before. They had all changed for the better. “How about you?”

  Kerry studied him. “Why me?”

  “I’ve given this some thought, Kerry. If you’ve learned anything from Fletcher and Evan, you’ve learned the business of managing animals. You’re smarter than anyone I know, kid, and you always have been. You’re even more brilliant than Gavin, but don’t ever tell him I said that.”

  Kerry looked into the distance and didn’t speak for a long moment. “Back to Texas. I just don’t know…”

  Duncan put his hand on her knee. “Think about it. Take your time. I don’t mean to pressure you.” He stood. “In the meantime, there’s an old brothel to buy and tear down, and, oh, by the way, I’m getting married.”

  Once again he had her momentarily speechless. “Duncan! Really? You’re going to marry Isobel?” She stood up so fast the stool tumbled over, startling Bear, who stood and shook himself violently. Kerry threw herself at Duncan and hugged him hard. “Oh, I’m so glad you’re home.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Isobel stood at the railing as the vessel carrying Lily to Ayr made its way toward open water. Truth be told, Lily didn’t appear to want to leave, despite the surprise of an inheritance. “I have everything I want right here,” she insisted. And Isobel thought she might have more here on Hedabarr than she ever imagined if things played out.

  She raised her hand in farewell, once again noticing their redness. She had not felt inferior to anyone for many, many years, not since her school days when other girls took for granted things that Isobel either would never have or had worked hard to get.

 

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