"I could tell you it didn't, but in truth it never stops throbbing."
Arrian bent and kissed her aunt on the cheek and then slid her arms around her neck. "I shall miss you desperately, but I'll take comfort in knowing that you will have the best of care."
Lady Mary dabbed at the tears in her eyes. She had always taken pride in her strength of character, and crying was not in her nature. She knew that Arrian was putting on a brave face, so she could do no less.
"Highlanders like Lord Warrick are driven by stubborn pride, Arrian. I would beseech him to let you accompany me, but we both know it would do no good."
Arrian's jaw set in a stubborn line. "We shan't beg him for anything, Aunt Mary."
Lady Mary tried to find something hopeful to say. "I have learned from the housekeeper that my nephew Jamie kidnapped Lord Warrick's bride. Perhaps now his lordship will feel that his honor has been satisfied, and release you."
"Do you really believe Jamie is capable of such a deed?"
"I'd believe anything of Jamie."
"And Ian—do you think he was involved?"
Lady Mary saw the uncertainty in Arrian's eyes. "Has he been accused?"
“Y—es."
"I don't know if I can answer that, Arrian. But I'll find out."
Arrian placed her aunt's jewelry chest in a trunk and closed the lid, snapping it shut. "I'll never believe Ian capable of dishonor," she said.
There was a knock on the door and Mrs. Haddington entered. "It's time for your medicine, m'lady. Otherwise you'll not be bearing the pain when they take you to the ship."
Lady Mary took the offered medicine. "I'd never thought to find myself aboard a ship again. After this, I travel only by land."
Warrick appeared at the door. "If you will allow it, I will carry you downstairs, Lady Mary."
"Little say I have in the matter, I'm sure," Lady Mary said, resigned to her fate.
"I want to accompany my aunt as far as the ship," Arrian said, pulling on her leather gloves.
Warrick lifted Lady Mary gently in his arms. "I had anticipated that."
Lady Mary moaned in pain, and she was surprised to see Lord Warrick's silver eyes fill with compassion. "I'll be as careful as I can, my lady. Your ordeal will soon be at an end."
"What is the condition of the sea?" Lady Mary asked with concern.
"I am told by the captain that you should have smooth sailing all the way to Edinburgh."
"That's a blessing, anyway."
"If you will allow it, Barra has agreed to travel with you and remain until she is no longer needed," Warrick told her.
"It seems you have thought of everything, my lord."
By now they had reached the carriage, and Warrick placed Arrian's aunt gently inside and pulled a woolen robe over her legs. When he would have left, she clasped his hand.
"Tell me, Lord Warrick, would you have allowed my niece to leave if she had not consented to the marriage?"
He smiled. "We shall never know the answer to that, shall we?"
"Be good to her. This is her first time away from those who love her. Arrian is a rare jewel. Treat her as such."
There was sudden anger in his eyes. "I don't harm women, Lady Mary. I'll leave that to your nephews."
Arrian came down the steps, carrying her aunt's medicine, and Warrick helped her into the carriage beside Lady Mary.
The coach pulled away with Mactavish in the driver's seat, while Warrick, mounted on Titus, rode beside them. Arrian and her aunt were silent, partly because Barra accompanied them and partly because their emotions ran too deep to express in words.
Too quickly it was time to say good-bye. With a hurried hug, Arrian watched Warrick place her aunt in the longboat that would transport her to the waiting ship.
Arrian refused to cry as the small craft moved out to sea. Warrick stood beside her, but she refused to acknowledge him. In the distance her aunt was being helped onto the ship, and Arrian held her breath, knowing the pain Aunt Mary must be feeling.
"I pray the doctors in Edinburgh will be able to heal her."
"As do I, Arrian. I found much to admire in Lady Mary."
"I'm sure she does not return your feelings."
He laughed. "Nor would I, were I in her place."
After Arrian watched the anchor rising out of the sea, she returned to the coach. "I am ready now, my lord."
Warrick had expected, at the last moment, that Arrian would beg to go with her aunt. But she had not. He was discovering a strength in her he had not expected in one so pampered. Arrian would continue to fight him, and she would be a worthy adversary, but he would not want to see her wonderful spirit crushed.
He helped her inside the coach and noticed the circles under her eyes. She must not have slept the night before.
"Arrian, would you like me to ride in the coach with you?"
"No, my lord. I prefer my own company." Even while her lips trembled with the effort she was making not to cry, her eyes defied him.
Arrian was so bored, she wandered through the castle, inspecting the unoccupied rooms. Most of them were dusty and neglected, but the furnishings must have been grand at one time.
She was elated when she discovered steps leading to the battlements. Quickly she climbed to the top and stood with the wind in her hair, awed by the magnificent view of the valley. She watched as a brilliant sunset reflected against the iron gray mountains in the distance.
Suddenly she was overcome with a loneliness so intense, she cried out, "Mother, help me."
Arrian heard someone come up behind her and thought it might be Warrick. She turned to do battle with him, but her anger faded when Mactavish appeared.
"I was in the courtyard below and saw you, m'lady. I brought your cloak, thinking you might be cold."
She allowed him to place the cloak around her shoulders and was glad for its warmth. "Thank you for your thoughtfulness."
"It was my pleasure."
"This is a harsh country, isn't it, Mr. Mactavish?"
"Aye, that it is. You already know about the hazardous winters. But you will presently be surprised with the arrival of spring."
There was misery in the depths of her blue eyes. "Do you think I'll be here that long?"
He lowered his gaze. "It's not for me to say."
She knew he was blameless in her situation. "Mr. Mactavish, was it you who brought me to the castle that night the carriage overturned?"
"Aye, m'lady. You rode upon my horse."
Deep in thought, she leaned her elbows against the containing wall and glanced at the courtyard below. "Why do you suppose the Highlanders and the Lowlanders don't get along—or for that matter the Scottish and the English?"
"There are many reasons. Speaking of the Highlanders and Lowlanders, anytime you put two Scots together they'll argue on the amount of salt to put in their porridge. As for the English, we Scots object to their lacing their porridge with sugar, or for that matter, breathing air."
She turned to him and couldn't help smiling. "There's more to it than that, Mr. Mactavish, and you know it."
"My name's just Mactavish, m'lady. And aye, it's more than that. I always liken our alliance with England as living next door to a giant—when the giant takes a step, the rumble can be felt from Highland to Lowland."
"I've learned some of the reasons the Maclvors and the Drummonds fight. If only they could come to an agreement. They are all Scots."
"The trouble goes back many years, and it isn't up to me to tell you all the reasons. You may want to ask him," Mactavish said, referring to Warrick.
"I have always been proud of that part of me that was Scottish. My mother instilled that pride in me. Now I don't know how I feel."
A gust of icy wind struck, and Arrian shivered.
"We should go in, m'lady. The weather grows bitter with the setting sun."
She nodded and entered the castle while he held the door for her. "His lordship was wondering if you would like to take dinner with him toni
ght."
"So he sent you to ask me?"
Mactavish smiled. "I believe he is a little afraid of you, m'lady."
She returned his smile. "What? He, a big man, and I, a wee lass. Whatever can he be thinking?"
"I canna guess."
"You may tell his lordship I shall take dinner with him tonight. But it is not to become a habit."
Mactavish grinned at her. "I'll be glad to relay both messages."
She laid her hand on his. "Thank you for being so kind to me, Mactavish."
"Haddy and Barra have not been unkind to you, have they?"
"I understand their resentment, but I also think it should be aimed at Lord Warrick and not at me. I didn't ask to stay here."
"I'll speak to them."
"No. Please don't. It will only make matters worse." Her eyes danced. "I have found at least one friend in the enemy camp."
"I hope you will always feel that I am your friend, m'lady."
11
It took Arrian a long time to dress because she was accustomed to her maid performing that task. She wore a sapphire blue velvet gown with long puffed sleeves. Her shoulders were bare, and she wore no jewelry, no adornment. Because the castle was drafty, she pulled her white cashmere shawl over her shoulders. Her hair, she braided and wrapped around her head, securing it with a golden comb.
When she entered the dining room, Warrick came to his feet, his eyes filled with admiration. With a smile, he held a chair for her.
"I was not certain you would come."
"I never break my word. If I'm here long enough, you'll learn that about me, my lord."
His gaze moved over her creamy neck and the swell of her breasts that were just visible from the cut of the gown. "You are lovely." He had not intended to compliment her, but the words were spoken before he realized what he'd said.
"It would be the gown, my lord. My mother has impeccable taste in clothing." Her voice became icy. "The gown is part of my trousseau. It was intended for Ian's eyes, not yours."
He made no reply but merely sat down at the head of the table and unfolded his napkin, placing it across his lap. "You will feast tonight. Cook has prepared her best."
Arrian looked around the large formal dinning room. Mrs. Haddington certainly set a splendid table. The silver gleamed beneath a crystal chandelier. The lace tablecloth must have been very old and precious, and Arrian was certain it was only brought out on special occasions. The china was gold rimmed and engraved with a golden G for Glencarin. Since the table was so long, Arrian had been placed at Warrick's right.
Arrian had never seen Warrick in formal dress. His powder blue coat fit snugly across his broad shoulders. The white ruffle of his shirtsleeve fell across his tanned hands. She raised her eyes to his face and thought how proud and aristocratic he looked. He would be a sensation in London. The young ladies of nobility would compete for his attention.
"I admire your china, my lord, it is rather beautiful."
"Although I cannot be certain, I believe I once heard it was a gift to my great-grandmother from her family when she married my grandfather."
"I wonder if you have heard of Ravenworth China. It is world famous," she said. "After the war with France, our villagers were having a difficult time, so my mother helped them market their china. Today, even the Czar of Russia has on occasion dined on Ravenworth China."
"Your mother must be a most remarkable woman."
Arrian warmed to his praise of her mother. "I would challenge you to find anyone more beautiful. There are many who have benefited from her kindness."
"It would seem beauty runs in the DeWinter family."
Arrian didn't want Warrick to think she was seeking compliments, so she turned her attention to the meal. Dipping her spoon into the cock-a-leekie soup, Arrian took a bite of tender capon.
Warrick shrewdly questioned her so that he could learn more about her. "Your life has been happy, hasn't it?"
"I've never known sorrow except the day Uncle George died. He was Aunt Mary's husband, and I adored him. He was a man of great power in the House of Commons."
"Have you any brothers or sisters?"
"I have a younger brother, Michael. He's my best friend, and I miss him desperately."
"And your father—what about him?"
Her face brightened and her eyes glowed. "Father is the most exceptional of all. Aunt Mary told me that until my mother married him, my father was considered the best catch in England."
"So you have the perfect family."
She glanced at him quickly to see if he was being sarcastic, but there was only genuine interest in his eyes. "I believe my family has faults as any family does, but they are honorable and trustworthy. If my father tells you something, it will be the truth."
She fell silent, but already his curiosity was piqued. "I would hear more about your family."
"Everyone loves my mother. As for Michael, I very much admire him."
"I suppose you live most of the year in London, attending parties and galas?"
She wrinkled her nose. "None of my family is fond of London. We prefer to live a simple life in the country. Aunt Mary is the exception. She thrives on London society."
"So you live simply, in a hundred-room castle."
She searched his eyes. "Do you mock me?"
"Not at all. I'm merely trying to draw a picture of your life." A sudden thought occurred to him. "I suppose Ian Maclvors was offered a handsome dowry as your future husband."
Arrian's eyes clouded, and she pushed her soup aside. "I suppose. I don't know the details. I hope you don't think the dowry will be coming to you."
He pressed his lips together in a thin line. "No. I would not touch your father's money. I was only wondering if Ian had yet received the dowry."
"My father did not tell me about the arrangement between them." She leaned closer to him. "When will you allow me to leave, my lord? I don't belong here."
He stared into her blue eyes, made bluer by the color of her gown. "I wonder, had we met under different circumstances, if we might have been friends?"
"We will never know. In truth, my lord, I might have liked you, but I believe you would always have despised the Maclvors blood in me."
"I can assure you that I don't despise you, my lady. Quite the contrary. Do you think me so base that my only feelings revolve around hate and revenge?"
"I have only seen the side of you that hates. I would not know if you are capable of love—nor do I wish to find out."
Mrs. Haddington came in to remove the soup bowls, and Arrian and Warrick fell silent while she served the main course and then withdrew.
"Arrian, suppose you and I declare a truce. I see no reason why we should quarrel."
"I have many reasons to take exception to you, and as for a truce between us, it would depend upon what it was based."
"Suppose we become nothing more than friends. We will spend time together, get to know each other. I'll show you Glencarin as you have never seen it. Would you agree to that?"
"What would I gain from this friendship?"
"Eventually, your freedom."
"When would I have my freedom?"
He took her hand and was surprised when she did not pull away. "I have not yet decided, but until I do, it would be more pleasant if we were cordial."
Arrian thought of the long hours of loneliness that stretched before her. He could be pleasant when he wanted to. "You would expect nothing more than friendship?"
"You have my word. I have no wish to fight with you, Arrian. I don't want your memories of Glencarin to be unhappy."
"How could they be otherwise? I cannot forget that you disrupted my life and made me marry you. I only want to be with Ian, and I probably never can be. . . ."
"We both know that marriages can be annulled, Arrian. If you stay with me willingly until I decide to let you go, I will give you your freedom."
"Out of spite you might decide to keep me until I am old."
He laugh
ed. "I can assure you that I shall release you before high August."
"Then I would be free to marry Ian?"
"You would be free to do as you will."
"You are a puzzlement to me, my lord. On the one hand you can be kind, and then suddenly change and become demanding and threatening. If I didn't know better, I'd think you were two different men."
"Perhaps when you come to know me better, the puzzle will be solved."
"If I do as you say, I'll soon be free to go to my great-grandfather?"
"You will." He glanced down at her hand and noticed her finger was bare. "I see you don't wear my ring."
"I don't feel as if it belongs to me. I only wait for the time when I shall have Ian's ring back on my finger."
He sat back in his chair, observing her quietly. When he spoke, it was on a different subject. "Do you like to hawk?"
"Indeed I do. But I will not fox hunt. To me, hawking is sporting, but when several dozen men with twice as many hounds ride after one little fox, I see no sport in that." She cut into a piece of veal and savored the delicate taste. "It occurs to me, my lord—"
"If we are to be friends, you should call me Warrick."
"Very well. But it seems to me, Warrick, that you know a great deal about me, while I know little of your life. It's only fair that I ask you questions and that you answer them as honestly as I have answered you."
His face was transformed by a smile. "I yield to your curiosity. Ask what you will."
Mrs. Haddington served the tea and a lemon tart while Arrian and Warrick talked. "You never mention your mother, Warrick."
"She died when I was seven."
"Someone taught you manners."
He stared at her for a moment. "You assume that all Highlanders are savages."
"I had heard that," she replied with candor. "But you prove that assumption false."
He chose not to become embroiled in an argument about the Highlands and the Lowlands. "I have happy memories of my mother. As I recall, my sister looked very much like her. There is a portrait of her in the east wing. I'll show it to you one day."
"I know your sister died. Were there no other sisters or brothers?"
Highland Love Song (DeWinter's Song 2) Page 11