Sweet Temptation

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Sweet Temptation Page 19

by Leigh Greenwood


  She had now seen another side of Gavin, one she knew was just as valid as ail the others, and somehow she had to fit this new Gavin into the picture with all the rest. She had seen him young and carefree, she had seen him angry, bitter, and disillusioned, and she had seen him burdened by guilt. She had no difficulty accepting a Gavin who lustily enjoyed her body, but how was she to reconcile all this with the man who made love to her with exquisite tenderness, who treated her as if she were made of spun gold? Not even his behavior in the coach had prepared her for this worshipful gentleness.

  Even though she had been certain she loved him and wanted to be with him, she had been afraid of him after their wedding night. The very fact that he had a mistress, that the Earl had them as well, convinced her that laying with a woman was an essential part of the relationship between a man and a woman. But after that night, she both dreaded and feared a repetition. The fact that all nice women were supposed to feel the same way was no consolation. Yet last night it felt as though something entirely different had taken place between them, something as far different from that first night as she was from Clarice. This was something she could participate in, something she wanted to be a part of, something she had to be a part of, if she wanted him for herself alone. It was not merely a means of binding Gavin to her; it was a means of separating him from every other woman who had ever been a part of his life. As long as he wanted to satisfy his need with her, he would have no reason to seek them out. Sara was inwardly pleased with her discovery. It not only gave her a weapon of immense power, it made her feel more important, more able to influence the course of her own life.

  There was a much more difficult side of this physical relationship to be considered, because there was an important part of it that was not physical in its essential nature. Sara admitted she couldn’t figure this out, at least not yet, but she knew it was pivotal. Otherwise, why would she feel so much closer to Gavin this morning? Why would she feel a part of him and not merely someone with whom he had experienced a few moments of passion? What had happened that enabled him to tug at her heartstrings in a way no one had since her father’s death? Why did she see him less as a handsome young Adonis and more as a much-troubled man? Was it possible that one night together could do this for just anybody, or was there something special between them?

  Betty came bustling back from her errand and scattered Sara’s tenuous thoughts, but she felt much more optimistic than before. There was something special, something magical between them, and if that was so, there was something wonderful to be discovered, to be learned, and she could look forward to the coming days with eager anticipation.

  Gavin strode through the streets of Edinburgh like the hounds of hell were at his heels. And indeed he felt they were. He was running to escape Sara, and the demons of love that had destroyed his mother’s happiness and were waiting with gaping jaws to crush him as well.

  He had awakened this morning feeling more at peace than he had in years; it had lasted precisely the length of time it took him to turn his head and see Sara’s face on the pillow next to him. He had leapt from the bed as though it were aflame, and indeed it might as well have been, for all the comfort it gave him.

  Why had he let Sara’s loveliness lure him into making love to her? Why had he let her innocence make him forget why she had married him? Why did he think love would treat him any differently than it had his parents? How could he have been such a fool to forget every vow he had made, to forsake bis chosen path?

  The answer to all these questions was the thundering realization that, if he was fool enough to ignore the lessons of the past seven years, then he deserved whatever hell was reserved for those who will not learn from life’s crucible of experience. He deserved that Sara think less of him than of her lovers, care less for his comfort than for her pleasure, care so little for his children as not to have them. He deserved to be made mock of by his friends for being under the sway of a wife who did not return his regard, even though he was sure Sara would do her best to be discreet.

  But he didn’t want discretion. He wanted all of her affection, all her loyalty, all her thoughts, or he wanted nothing at all from her. He told himself he was being unreasonable and unfair to both of them, but that didn’t alter anything. He knew he would never find the kind of love he was looking for, he had accepted that, but he couldn’t accept love on any other basis.

  But a nagging doubt kept whispering in his ear. What if it is possible? What if you can have everything you want? Gavin didn’t want to listen, but he couldn’t stop himself. He barely knew Sara—he couldn’t blame anyone but himself for that—but he already suspected she was not like other women he knew, that maybe there was less worldliness in her than in most females of his class. After all, he had never asked her why she married him, and he shouldn’t have assumed he knew. Was it possible she hadn’t married him for the title he would inherit? That’s stupid, he told himself angrily. She couldn’t have married you for any other reason. She wouldn’t have known you from Adam if you hadn’t been standing at the altar. She might have developed a regard for you, if you and your father had ever given her the chance, but you didn’t. She married a perfect stranger for the same reason any other woman marries a perfect stranger, for the advantages the marriage would bring her.

  Still, the nagging doubt would not be silent; it bedeviled his mind until, in near desperation, he uttered a scathing oath and started to run through the streets.

  An old woman sweeping the steps in preparation for the coming of day was startled by his imprecations, and she quickly retreated indoors, certain he was mad.

  Gavin stared furiously at the man seated across from him. “I have no intention of taking a hand in this rebellion, especially not against these poor misguided rebels.”

  “I do, and I always shall despise these rascals,” Lt. Gen. Henry Hawley said with arrogant disdain to his cousin. “It is your duty as a loyal Englishman to support the—”

  “I’m a Scotsman, too,” Gavin said, interrupting him abruptly. “I don’t approve of the rebellion, but I’ll not lift my sword against them.”

  “If you’re not with us, then your loyalty must be suspect.”

  “Don’t be a bigger fool than you already are,” Gavin snapped angrily. “I’m not a soldier, and I’m not required to fight. I came back to Scotland to see if I could find some way to make my people more prosperous.”

  “I don’t think His Grace will sympathize with your position.”

  “Then I know His Grace better than you, for all you’re his second in command.”

  “Then the least you can do is put Estameer at the disposal of our troops.”

  “Are you mad? Do you think for one minute I’d voluntarily turn over my estate to be trampled by thousands of feet and hooves, the land gouged by your guns, and the larder and barns emptied when the government can amply provide for its own? Set one foot on Estameer, and I’ll raise the whole countryside against you.”

  Gavin was livid. He had never met his cousin before, had only decided on the spur of the moment to see what he was like before he left Edinburgh. He was shocked by bis senseless bigotry and then enraged by his stubborn arrogance.

  “You seem to feel that being in command of the army gives you the right to trample over the rights of ordinary citizens.”

  “We’re in enemy country.”

  “You are in England, even though some may want a different king on the throne. If you continue to treat Scotland as you have begun, you may find the whole of it in revolt. Does the Duke know what a buffoon he has on his staff?”

  “You’re insulting.”

  “And you’re a fool,” Gavin declared flatly, rising abruptly from his chair. “My father said it would be a tragedy for you to step into my shoes, but by God, I don’t think he knows the half of it.”

  Gavin stormed out of the room, but paused in the outer room to regain some control over his temper. A tall young man of clear eye and smiling mein entered and regarded him
quizzically for a moment.

  “Your interview with the Lieutenant-General didn’t go well?”

  “My interview was a mistake,” Gavin stated unequivocally. “If he doesn’t raise the whole countryside against you, I’ll be surprised. Why does Cumberland keep him?”

  “He has rank and birth.”

  “I know he’s descended from an Earl, but earls can sire imbeciles as well as anyone else.”

  The officer laughed easily, not discomfited by Gavin’s anger or the obvious difference in class.

  “Who are you?” Gavin asked.

  “Brigade-Major James Wolfe.”

  “And what do you think of him?”

  “He has a reputation as a savage disciplinarian, but he combines beastly ignorance and negligence, and embodies all the vices and stupidities of his class.”

  “You don’t mince words, do you?”

  “Neither do the soldiers. He’s called Lard Chief Justice for his frequent and sudden executions. They hate him, dread his severity, and hold his military knowledge in contempt. He has some dangerous illusions about the lack of courage and resolution of Highlanders, particularly that they wouldn’t stand up to cavalry, even though they have already done it at Prestonpans and Clifton.”

  “I must try and make Cumberland realize he’s going to lose more than he will gain by keeping that man.”

  “His Crace has been called away to protect against a French invasion. Hawley is in sole command.”

  “Then God help you, because I won’t.”

  Sara stared out the coach window, a tight ball of apprehension bouncing about in the pit of her stomach. They were approaching Estameer, and she didn’t know what to do. She had hoped that she and Gavin could have established some kind of understanding while they were in Edinburgh, but Gavin had not come to her bed the second night, and she had found little opportunity to talk with him, because he was out on business most of each day. He had been unfailingly polite and considerate of her comfort, but there was a chasm between them she could not bridge.

  And the gap grew wider when they boarded the coach for Estameer. With the passing of every mile that brought them closer to Gavin’s home, he withdrew a little more from her. Sara felt confused and abandoned, but she was determined to discover the cause of this withdrawal. After four days of companionable coexistence, she found she liked being married to Gavin, and she was not going to give up because of some ancient problem with his father, or whatever ghost was haunting him now.

  The coach slowed and turned into the gate of the avenue, which opened under an archway that was battlemented on top and adorned with two large weather-beaten pieces of upright stone. The avenue was straight and lined with ancient horse chestnuts and sycamores. Beyond were two high walls overgrown with ivy. Though it was half-hidden by the trees, Sara could see the high steep roofs and narrow gables of the mansion, and she felt herself tense. This was Gavin’s home, and she doubted he was any more willing to let her inside its walls than he was to let her inside his heart.

  The house, which seemed to consist of two or three high, narrow, and steep-roofed buildings projecting from each other at right angles, formed two sides of the enclosure. It had been built after the period when castles had ceased to be necessary, but before anyone had learned to design a domestic residence. The windows were numberless and very small; the roof had some nondescript projections and, displayed at each frequent angle, a small turret, more resembling a pepper box than a gothic watchtower. Nor did the front indicate absolute security from danger. There were loopholes for musketry, and iron stanchions on the lower windows, probably to repel predatory visits from their neighbors. Stables and other offices occupied another side of the square. The front court was spacious, well paved, and perfectly clean. The solitude and repose of the whole scene seemed almost monastic.

  “Sure is a big place,” Betty said in surprise. “I always thought Scottish lords were poor.”

  “They usually are, when compared to the English,” Gavin told her. “Fortunately, I’m not.”

  They entered almost directly into the great hall, undoubtedly the largest room Sara had ever seen. The massive black oak beams that supported the ceiling were hardly less than whole trees hand-hewn and fitted into position with wooden pegs. A fire blazed in a hearth big enough for Sara to enter standing, but it seemed to have no effect on the icy cold of the room. The unrelieved whitewashed walls gave Sara the impression of a cold, winter landscape.

  “Estameer used to belong to the laird of the clan. He built this hall so he could feed all his men at once,” Gavin explained when he saw Sara’s dismay. “It’s never used now except in summer.” A man and a woman of middle age hurried from one of the side doors to greet them with a warm welcome.

  “This is Tom Campbell, my bailiff, and his wife, Mary, who acts as housekeeper,” Gavin told Sara.

  “And delighted I am tae see the young master has taken a wife at last,” Mary said, beaming warmly at Sara. “It was the dearest wish o’ his sainted mother for the last years o’ her life.”

  “Mary has managed everything for years,” Gavin said, a little stiffly. “You shouldn’t have to do any more than come down for dinner.”

  Immediately Sara could tell that Gavin didn’t want her to interfere with the household. She knew she couldn’t let herself be managed by a housekeeper for the rest of her life, no matter how kindly, but she hadn’t quite made up her mind how to respond, when Betty, who was in no such doubt, answered for her.

  “Her ladyship can’t be expected to live by anybody else’s arrangements, though she’s bound to be too tired from bouncing over those nasty roads to be thinking of anything but her bed right now.”

  “I am rather tired,” Sara said, hoping to pacify Gavin before he could become angry, “but I would appreciate it, Mary, if you could wait on me in the morning.”

  “At what hour?” inquired the housekeeper, showing none of Gavin’s stiff reluctance.

  “Is nine convenient?” Sara asked. She would have preferred that Betty let her make the first step, but now that it had been made, she wasn’t going to waste the opportunity.

  “I’m sure you’ll find that everything is being managed quite well,” Gavin began.

  “So am I,” Sara agreed, cutting him off before he could actually forbid her to interfere, “but I must become familiar with the household routine.”

  “My yes,” added Mary. “There must be dozens of changes ye shall want tae make.”

  “I doubt there’ll be dozens, but there are bound to be some.”

  “They are my mother’s arrangements,” Gavin informed her ominously. He knew he shouldn’t be responding this way, but he couldn’t stop himself.

  “And I’m sure they are quite excellent for a household set up for the care of an invalid,” Betty struck in, “but her Ladyship is no such thing.”

  “I dare say I shall find them most suitable,” said Sara, stepping in to prevent a quarrel. Betty had never liked Gavin, and only waited for any imagined slight to her mistress to flare up. Sara appreciated her help, she couldn’t get along without it, but she didn’t want to find herself fighting a battle not of her own making. “Now, if you will show me the way upstairs. It seems like years since I had a room of my own.”

  “Certainly, your Ladyship.”

  “Gavin?”

  “I’ve business with the bailiff. I’ll see you at dinner.”

  “When is that?”

  “Dinner is always at half past four,” Mary informed her.

  “Four-thirty! Why that’s in the middle of the afternoon!” exclaimed Betty.

  “So it is,” Sara said, giving her maid a fierce glance. “I must hurry if I’m to be ready in time.”

  “You can’t be sitting down to dinner before you’ve had time to swallow your tea,” Betty protested, aghast, as they reached a corridor out of Gavin’s hearing. “That’s heathenlike.”

  “Nor shall I, but it would be better to move the dinner hour back by degrees rath
er than all at once. The same goes for any other changes I might want to make.”

  “Aye,” agreed Mary. “The young master is mighty loyal to anything his mother set up. It is wise to proceed slowly.”

  “But if—”

  “No, Betty,” Sara said firmly. “I don’t intend to give up my rights, but I won’t have my husband badgered by a lot of poorly considered changes, certainly not so soon after the Countess’s death. But I’m afraid we must move dinner back to five-thirty. I doubt I can be ready quite so early.”

  “Certainly, your Ladyship. It’s terrible late now.”

  Gavin didn’t look pleased when she came down, and Sara decided to speak first.

  “I’m sorry dinner’s so late, but our arrival caught everyone by surprise. By the time everything was settled, it was impossible to have dinner ready on time. Please say something nice to Mary. She’s upset, but I told her you’d rather have dinner late than ill-prepared.” Sara settled herself into a chair. “How was your afternoon? Is it going to be difficult to extract the coal?”

  Gavin regarded her with skepticism, but he began to tell her of his plans for the mines, and his displeasure vanished as he became caught up in his enthusiasm.

  “It will be a real boost to the whole county,” he said. “Scotland’s extreme poverty is half the reason the clans are willing to fight for the Stuart prince. If you remember the villages we passed through, then you know how poor they are. The lairds can’t help, because they have all they can do to provide for their tables. It’s the custom in the Highlands, that the laird must feed anyone at his own table who comes to eat with him. Well, more and more are depending on him, because they can’t feed themselves. The mines won’t solve everyone’s problems, but it’s a start.”

 

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