A Scottish Duke for Christmas (The Duke of Strathmore Book 4)
Page 6
He wracked his brains, looking for anything he could say to placate her.
'At least you will be here for David's christening,' he announced.
His mother had raised the question of David's baptism late the previous evening. He hadn't given the idea much thought at the time, thinking it the least of his concerns, but now suddenly it was right in front of him. It went straight to his lips.
He was only beginning to absorb the words he had just spoken when Caroline's face lit up with joy.
'Oh Ewan, that would be lovely. I hadn't thought about his baptism, but now that you mention it, I think it's wonderful. What a timely idea,' she replied.
He smiled. Both at the obvious pleasure the invitation had given to Caroline, and to the fact that his mother had played a sly hand and got him to do her bidding.
Touché, Mama.
Chapter Twenty-One
Caroline and the two Radley women were seated at breakfast the next morning when Ewan arrived in the breakfast room. He came to Lady Alison and brushed a kiss on her cheek.
'All arranged then?' she asked.
'Yes. Christmas Eve. Now just to secure the services of another godparent and everything will be ready.
He looked over at Caroline and smiled.
'I have already asked Aunt Maude to be one of David’s godparents, I would like very much for you to also be a godparent.'
His offer took her by surprise. She hadn't really thought about who David's godparents would be. For that matter, she wasn't entirely sure of the church's position regarding illegitimate children. The fact that David was to be baptized within the grounds of his family seat, likely negated any issues that may have existed with the Church of Scotland.
'Are you certain?'
'Why not? You would make a perfect godmother for David. And it would mean that his mother's side shall have somewhat of a formal position in his life,' he replied.
'What an unexpected honor. I accept of course. Who is to be his godfather?'
'I would have asked my brother, but he is in London and won’t be able to make the ceremony. The church doesn’t allow godparents by proxy. The village minister said that as I am his father I am well within my rights to be his godfather. It means that my name and David’s will at least be together in the family and church records somewhere. I owe my firstborn son that much.'
Caroline felt tears well up inside of her. Ewan was doing his utmost to be a good father, and to respect Beatrice's memory. For her it was also a touching thought to know that her own name would be alongside both Ewan and David Radley's names in the church records.
Being present for David’s baptism was a welcome consolation for having not made it home to Kent for Christmas. The heavy snowfalls and damaged bridge at Torwood were perhaps a blessing after all.
Christmas Eve dawned with gray skies. Low clouds hung over the valley. Strathmore Mountain was completely hidden from view. The air in the castle courtyard was bitingly cold. Standing on the steps of the keep, rugged up against the chill, Caroline wrapped her cloak about her. There were small pockets of snow all around the yard.
Aunt Maude joined her, and looked up at the sky.
'Beautiful Scottish morning my dear. Perfect weather,' she remarked.
Caroline glanced at her, unsure if Ewan's aunt was being absurd or truly meant it. The Scots seemed to find joy in the very worst of weather.
'We've had more snow by the look of it,' Caroline replied.
'Aye, we had a good three inches of it last night. Cook tells me that the road up from the village is deadly with black ice. But rest assured that won't stop the minister. As they say, it's not the weather that is wrong, but the clothes you are wearing.'
Lady Alison and Ewan appeared behind them in the doorway. Ewan was dressed in the Strathmore tartan of black, gray and blue. A silver kilt pin, with the family crest of a rearing horse, mounted over three, four-pointed stars, sat on the lower corner of his kilt. It shone as brightly as the dull morning light would permit. With a basket-hilted sword hanging by his side, he looked every inch the true Scottish Laird.
In his arms, wrapped warmly in a thick Strathmore tartan blanket, was David. He was awake; and to Caroline's observant eye, was taking it all in.
'Come on then my lad, let’s get you churched,' said Ewan.
With that Ewan and the small christening party set off across the courtyard and toward the small stone chapel which sat within the castle grounds. As they walked, the collective staff of the castle stood to one side. Hats off and heads bowed.
Caroline watched them as she walked by. She was filled with an overwhelming sense of relief. The people of Strathmore Castle had accepted David as one of them. He would never be their lord, but to them, he was still a son of the house.
The christening party gathered inside the small stone chapel.
It was a simple building, with an ornamental archway just inside the door. Aunt Maude explained that it dated from a time when Scotland was still officially a Roman Catholic country. Down the generations, and changes of national faith, the family had never seen any particular need to make alterations to the building. It was still a house of God, so they had left it as it was originally built.
The minister from the village was waiting inside.
'Welcome your Graces, Lady Maude, Lady Hastings, would you please gather round'.
There was an area to one side of the altar, in which the baptismal font was located. The small party managed to squeeze inside the area without too much discomfort.
Beginning with Ewan, they all took turns to hold David and make their vows to be good godparents and support David in his life. When it came time for Caroline to make her vows, Ewan handed the now sleeping David to her.
Tears immediately sprang to her eyes. She was about to vow to help raise him, yet there was every chance she wouldn’t play much of a role in his life. She turned to Ewan.
'Ewan, as you have chosen me to be David's godmother, that means I must be a part of his life as he grows up. Promise you will allow me to fulfill my vows. Don't shut me out his life, or yours for that matter. Your future duchess will have to understand that I have a role to play in my nephew's life,' she said.
He stepped forward and placed a fatherly kiss on his son's forehead.
'I promise never to take your Aunt Caroline from you, my lad,' he said.
Lady Alison reached out and patted Caroline's arm. 'We all promise.'
Aunt Maude wiped tears from her eyes.
Chapter Twenty-Two
As soon as the sun had begun to set, a large bonfire in the center of the courtyard was lit. Villagers and castle staff alike crowded around the giant fire and watched as the first sparks drifted up into the night air.
To one side of the bonfire, a giant spit had been constructed. Two huge boars had been roasting on the spit since just after sunrise. The heady smell of roast meat permeated the air.
No one would be going to bed hungry this night.
Ewan stood on the steps of the keep and watched as a wagon laden with fireworks was hauled into place well away from the flames of the bonfire. Small children were gathered up by their parents and taken to a safe distance. At Ewan’s signal, the first of many fireworks were lit and roared into the night sky.
Loud cheers and applause greeted every new rocket as it headed skyward. Squeals of delight soon followed as the rockets exploded high overhead.
Ewan silently congratulated himself for having managed to arrange David’s christening on Christmas Eve. The fireworks and festivities served both purposes well. The local Scots and English born Lady Caroline would be happy with the timing.
'Where is Caroline?' asked Lady Alison.
He turned around, and for the first time since arriving for the festivities realized that Caroline was not present at the gathering. His moment of congratulating himself quickly ended.
'I don't know, I haven't seen her since we came back from David's christening. She did promise to join us this evening
,' he replied.
Caroline had been glowing with pride, and he hoped happiness when they returned to the keep following the christening. It had been a stroke of genius for Lady Alison and Aunt Maude to suggest having Caroline as David's godmother. She was now forever linked as family to her nephew.
He searched over the heads of the milling household staff gathered on the steps behind him, but could not see Caroline's tall, slender form. He had just decided to go in search of her when she suddenly appeared to one side of the doorway.
He beckoned for her to join him, but she shook her head, and remained in the part shadows of the keep.
Something was wrong.
'Mama, would you please take over from me, I need to speak to Caroline.'
As soon as he reached her side, he could see Caroline was troubled. Even in the fading light, he could discern the telltale puffy eyes of one who had not long ago finished crying.
Whatever was the matter, the middle of a crowd was not the place to press her for an answer.
'Come with me,' he said, taking her gently by the arm.
Ewan led her through the keep and up a long set of winding stairs, finally reaching a small iron door, which he pushed open. Beyond the door was the ramparts at the top of the castle. A private place that only Radley family members were ever permitted to visit.
He closed the door behind them.
'We are alone, and no one will dare disturb us,' he said.
Caroline wiped fresh tears away from her face, refusing Ewan's outstretched hand of comfort.
'I am fine. I think I am almost done with crying for this evening thank you,' she replied.
A chill breeze rippled along the top of the battlements and she wrapped her cloak more tightly about herself. Ewan reached into his coat pocket and drew out a whisky flask. He offered it to her.
'Glenturret whisky, a fine drop. Get a dram or two of that into you to ward off the night air. Then we can talk.'
She took the flask from his hand and took a sip.
'That is good. A bit smoother than brandy. Thank you.'
She handed the flask back to Ewan, after which she pulled a letter from out of her skirt pocket.
'Hannah gave this to me when we were in Manchester. It's from Beatrice. To tell the truth, I had forgotten about it, but I was rummaging through my things this afternoon, looking for something to wear for Christmas Day when I came across it. I regretted opening it from the moment I started reading.'
Ewan wracked his brains. What on earth could Beatrice have possibly said to Caroline to make her so upset? What was the final piece of the Beatrice puzzle which had been laid in place to bring him and Caroline down?
He held the letter up against one of the arrow loops of the battlements, accessing the light given off by the giant bonfire below. When he was finally finished reading, he slowly folded the letter and stuffed it into his coat pocket. Sickened in his heart, he never intended that Caroline would ever have possession of it again.
'I am so terribly sorry Caroline. I had no idea.'
The letter was full of fury and vitriol. Hatred for both Ewan and their unborn child was laid bare on the page. But, Beatrice had saved the blackest of her hatred for her sister. Caroline had borne the full brunt of it.
'I knew she always resented me. As a child growing up I sensed she wished I was not in her life. By the time we became adults, we barely had any sort of relationship, but even I never suspected the true depth of her enmity toward me. That she would deliberately poison any chance that you and I had of being together.'
A cold sensation landed heavily in Ewan's stomach.
Beatrice hadn't set out to seduce him, rather she had determined to destroy her sister by whatever means necessary. He had merely been a pawn in her wicked game. A blind and selfish pawn.
Worst of all, the child which had grown within her womb meant less than nothing to her. David's very existence was a bane in her life.
'I don't know what to say. There is nothing that I can ever do to make amends for the hurt I have caused,' he stammered.
He watched with interest as an unexpected smile came to her lips. Her whole face changed as the sadness lifted.
'I thought that myself. For the longest time this afternoon, I was lost in the depth of despair. I wept for all the long years of my sister being my enemy. Of the sisterly affection so willingly withheld. Painful regrets that threatened to cut me to the core.
But no more. For you see, in the recent hours I came to an understanding of what she did. I've read that letter a dozen times; and by searching my soul, I discovered the truth. By seducing you and thereby tearing us asunder, she thought the damage would be permanent. That the fabric of you and I could never be repaired. But she didn't count on one thing; the power of forgiveness.'
Caroline came to Ewan's side and tenderly placed her hand on his cheek.
'If I was never to forgive you, she would have won. Her victory against me complete. Today we both made vows to David and to each other, and that has opened my heart once more to you. I forgive you, Ewan.'
Chapter Twenty-Three
Caroline hadn't meant to reveal all to Ewan this night, she had planned to make it a slow unveiling of her heart, but seeing him in the pale light she realized the time was ripe.
'Caroline,' he murmured.
A strong hand came around her waist and pulled her toward him. For a moment they searched one another's gazes. Time was beyond words. So much had already been said.
She lifted her lips to his as he took her mouth in a scorching kiss. His previous attempts to kiss her had been polite, almost apologetic. This kiss was an act of affirmation. She was his. She exulted in the certainty that Ewan was holding nothing back.
He deepened the kiss as his tongue swept into her mouth. Caroline groaned and returned the passion in kind. She was an innocent in the world of love, but she was a fast learner.
As she yielded to his demands, she claimed victory. He was hers from this moment on. She slipped her hands inside Ewan's coat and wrapped her arms around his waist. She had waited such a long time for this moment, she never intended to let go.
They broke the kiss for the briefest of moments as the loud bang of a large firework exploding overhead shook the night air. Within a second, their lips were reunited in a second kiss, as hot and fierce as the first.
She relaxed into the kiss, savoring every moment.
After all that had come between them, Caroline wasn't the least surprised when she felt hot tears run down her cheeks.
Ewan pulled away, his gaze desperately searching hers, seeking answers.
'Why are you crying?'
Her tears were no longer through anguish, but rather from the utter relief that this moment had actually happened. So many nights over the past year she had lain awake and pondered events. Over and over in her mind, she had wondered where she had gone wrong. At what point had Ewan realized he did not love her. How if she had played the game with more skill, could she have secured his love for her very own. Questions which at times had threatened her sanity.
'I just never thought we would ever get a second chance. I didn't think you wanted me.'
Someday, many years from now, she would reveal to him how deep was her despair the night Beatrice came home and announced that she seduced the man Caroline loved. For now, she would let it lay in the past, tonight she was happy to let the tears fall.
As long as Ewan continued to kiss her, Caroline didn't care.
Ewan escorted Caroline back to the festivities. Neither dare look at the other for fear of revealing their recent occupation.
A fiddler appeared and began to play. The castle servants gathered round and in pairs danced a lively jig.
Hannah holding baby David in her arms, laughed with delight.
'Look, David, look at all those people dancing. I bet when you grow up to be a man, you will be a fine dancer. You will be popular with the ladies at all the wonderful parties and balls in London,' she said.
Ewan looked across at Caroline. She was smiling and tapping her toes. He could see she was itching to get out and dance a jig with the others. English polite society dictated that as their lord, he shouldn’t mingle with the staff. It went against all propriety for them to see him as one of them.
A sharp elbow in the ribs from Aunt Maude gave him the reminder that this was Scotland and he was lord of the castle. He could do whatever he pleased and nothing would give him more pleasure than dancing with the woman he loved.
Ewan took hold of Caroline's hand and pulled her into the crowd. The gathered onlookers clapped and cheered with unrestrained delight.
'I can't remember the last time I danced a country jig,' Caroline said with a laugh.
Ewan swung her around and lifted her into the air. His hands fitting around her waist as if they had been designed for one another. As he set her back down, he saw the pure joy on her face. The flames of the bonfire reflected in her deep brown eyes.
If they hadn’t been in the middle of the courtyard with a hundred pair of eyes all turned in their direction, he would have kissed her again there and then.
'You had better get used to it, these folks love any excuse for a jig,' he said.
He spun her into another turn and his heart soared as Caroline laughed with unrestrained delight.
Chapter Twenty-Four
As the bonfire died down, the crowd dispersed and the villagers made their way home.
Snow flurries now danced about the courtyard in their own elegant waltz. Another night of snow beckoned.
Inside the castle, Ewan made his way to the strong room in the center of the keep. A heavy iron door protected the front of the family vault. It took two hands and a goodly portion of his strength to pull the door open.
Inside the strong room was a series of shelves. There were various sealed envelopes and roles of parchment on the high shelves. Included in them were the original letters patent for the first Duke of Strathmore.