Dawn Annis

by Highlander's Ransom

  Kate stared at the coffin. What a fool. She watched as Mrs. Drake patted old Mr. Drake’s arm. They had been together for the better part of forty years. After all this time, his eyes still lit up when he looked at her. Kate sighed. She ached for the closeness she saw in other marriages.

  She had convinced herself she loved Sidney. But she soon realized the feeling was nothing more than a desire to please her indifferent father.

  Kate peeked from beneath her lashes at her father standing beside her. Jacob Randall, the Earl of Westmoreland, followed his daughter’s gaze and harrumphed. Her shoulders slumped. Once again, she’d disappointed him.

  “I do not expect to see you on my doorstep,” he whispered through clenched teeth. “No doubt Sidney provided amply for you. I see no reason for you to make a nuisance of yourself.”

  Kate swallowed hard, fighting back her first real tears of the day. “Yes, Father.”

  He stared sternly at her.

  Kate stumbled. “I mean, no, Father.”

  Yes, she was a woman of means. She didn’t need to rely on her hardhearted father. She was a baronetess and a widow. With the title came Sidney’s wealth and status. She felt free, though it didn’t stop the tears.

  “Kate,” her father said sharply.

  Kate shook herself and wiped her tears. Bending down, she grabbed a handful of dirt. Resisting the urge to throw it at Sidney’s coffin as hard as she could, she walked to the grave and let the crumpled earth fall slowly through her fingers. She wouldn’t even give him that much effort.

  “Thank you for coming. Please join me for food and wine at Colquhoun House,” Kate said to the group.

  She faltered at her father’s grimace. His disappointment hung on her like a shroud.

  Scowling, her father led the way to the waiting black crested carriage. Kate stumbled in the mud. How could he be angry at her? What had she done except marry the man he’d expected her to marry, be subjected to Sidney’s demands. With a sigh, her father turned to retrieve her. His grip bit into her arm causing her to wince in pain. Not that she’d let him see her distress.

  The horses, their black plumes limp from the drizzle, stamped their hooves sharing her impatience to get underway. A waiting footman handed her in. Glad to be away from the watchful eyes, Kate nestled into the squabs, pulling the woolen blanket across her lap. She tucked the soft fabric around her legs. The carriage tilted as her father entered and settled himself on the opposite seat. The footman closed the door, jumped onto his perch, and yelled to the driver to be off. The carriage started forward with a jolt.

  “I don’t think your smile was appropriate. People will think you are improper.”

  “I apologize, Father. It wasn’t my intention,” Kate said quietly.

  He frowned. “I expected to see Andrew at the grave site. Did you send a message?”

  Kate grew irritated but kept her temper in check. She’d learned from her years with him and later Sidney to hide her true emotions. “Yes, Father. Of course. I hoped Andrew could help me notify the rest of Sidney’s family. I sent a message to his uncle in Leeds. I have not received a reply.”

  Her husband’s brother had not made an appearance at his funeral. Some might find it odd. She did not. Andrew did nothing unless it furthered for his own gain.

  “Well, when you receive an answer ask Andrew to contact me. With Sidney’s death, there is much to do.”

  “Yes, Father,” Kate said. Given the opportunity, her father would use Andrew as he’d used her husband. Much like Andrew, her father was very good at taking care of himself and his business arrangements. Not that she cared.

  After what felt like an eternity trapped in hell with her father, they finally arrived at Sidney’s home. She didn’t think of it as her own. She never had.

  Lord Sidney Colquhoun had not been a popular man but he had a great deal of money and family ties to King James and the English Court. Both the lying-in-state and the funeral had been lavish. They’d had to be. Kate arrived at the estate to a flurry of activity. Almost immediately, Sidney’s housekeeper, Mrs. Garth, hurried up to her.

  “Ah, Mistress. I hope the funeral went well.”

  “Yes, it did. How are things here? You weren’t given a great deal of time.” Kate placed a hand on Mrs. Garth’s plump arm.

  Mrs. Garth deftly slipped out from under Kate’s touch. Sidney’s household staff was not accustomed to kindness. They did not know her. She had been living in the country when they were hired. The turnover was great in Sidney’s house.

  Mrs. Garth gestured to the receiving rooms, formal dining room, library, and immense hall on the ground floor showing they were draped in black fabric. Kate walked from room to room. The mirrors in the dining room, hall, and parlor had been removed.

  “The House of Colquhoun will have a great feast to honor our lord,” Mrs. Garth said, with disgust. She caught herself and straightened. “Begging your pardon, ma’am.” Mrs. Garth bobbed her head.

  Kate gave a slight smile and nodded. A look of relief spread over Mrs. Garth’s face. Kate understood. She mustn’t blame the woman, she felt the same way.

  The candles in the candelabras had been lit to bring light to such a cold and dreary day, the smell of burning wax pungent. The folding doors between the formal dining room and receiving room were open to provide a good-sized area for the mourning guests. Stuffed pheasants, fresh fish with creamy sauces, and plenty of thinly sliced beef and poultry covered the highly polished mahogany table. The sideboards were loaded with wines, champagnes, and punch. The smell of the food sickened her.

  The guests arrived and gathered in the main hall. Kate straightened and inhaled a deep breath.

  “Welcome to Colquhoun House.”

  “Lady Colquhoun, my deepest sympathies,” Mr. Cochran said as he kissed her cold hand.

  His kiss wet, Kate shuddered and resisted the urge to wipe her hand.

  “Pray call on me if I can do anything to ease your pain.” Mrs. Kettering took her hand and held it to her breast.

  Sidney had bragged about a liaison with Mrs. Kettering, a buxom brunette who didn’t mind showing her assets, even at a funeral.

  Forcing a smile to her face, Kate tugged until she was finally able to tease her hand from the woman’s grasp.

  “My dear, how devastated you must feel. Will you be in York long?” the sharp-eyed Mrs. Jennings asked.

  Kate replied quietly, “As long as it is necessary.” She offered nothing more. She wasn’t going to fall into a gossip’s trap. While she had never met Mrs. Jennings, her gossip mill was legendary.

  Turning from Mrs. Jennings, she gave a soft smile of welcome to each of the mourners. She was gracious. She was welcoming. She would give no one any cause to think she was anything other than the properly grieving widow.

  Throughout the evening, she found herself introduced to more than one person she had never met. Many, it seemed, attended simply to catch a glimpse of her, the wife so many had heard of, but so few had seen. More than once she saw groups of four or five people gathered, eating and drinking the fare she had provided. Their eyes were on her as they whispered. “I heard he was found in Mrs. Lionel’s establishment,” Mrs. Kettering murmured.

  Mr. Cochran grinned. “Well, that isn’t at all surprising now, is it?” He hunched in closer to the intrigued group. “Mrs. Lionel specializes in a certain clientele, after all.”

  “Really?” Mrs. Kettering and Mrs. Jennings said in unison.

  “What?” Mrs. Kettering asked.

  Mr. Cochran pursed his lips as he nodded. Then he mouthed to his astonished audience, “Boys.”

  Kate stiffened. As she passed another clustered group, they, too, had not bothered to lower their voices. Perhaps they thought she would join them. Maybe even give them the opportunity to make their thinly veiled inquiries.
They were curious. They wanted to be privy to her life with Sidney. They carefully watched her every move, strained to hear her every word whenever she chose to speak. Whether they approved or disapproved of Lord Colquhoun they still wanted the lurid details. What tidbits they gathered here today would sustain the gossips for weeks.

  Kate mentally shrugged her shoulders. At this point the attention was focused on Sidney. For the moment, she wasn’t the topic of discussion. Boys? She’d never thought his depravities went so far to prey on children. Nausea bubbled in her stomach and she sighed with relief when Emily slipped her arm through hers.

  “Welcome back to England, dear friend. I am so sorry it is for such a poor reason you have come back.”

  Kate’s shoulders eased. She was happy to see her friend.

  Emily was a dark-haired beauty with bright blue eyes. Her plump build was in contrast to her husband Gerald’s tall, heavy-muscled form.

  “Yes, welcome,” Gerald said. “I am sorry for your loss.” His brown eyes were full of sympathy.

  “I wish you had let us come to the cemetery. We didn’t want you to go through that alone,” Emily said.

  Kate smiled at them. “I know. I needed to do it on my own. My father was there.”

  Emily rolled her eyes and then said, “You’re too thin. Let’s get you something to eat.”

  “I’m glad you are here,” Kate said as they made their way to the food tables.

  Gerald nodded once to Mr. Cochran and his companions, who skittered out of his way.

  Kate smiled her appreciation. Gerald winked.

  A few minutes later, laden with plates of food, Kate found a place to sit with her friends.

  “I would much rather be in Scotland right now,” Kate said, her voice lowered. She pushed her food around her plate. “I cannot stand the sly looks, the exaggerated whispers.”

  “Pay them no mind, Katie. They are fools,” Emily said.

  “I miss my flower gardens, my herbs. There, I feel comfortable. I don’t have to put on a show.” Kate reached out to Emily’s hands, feeling warmth and strength. “Here I have you but my life is so much simpler in the lowlands. I have worked hard to make it a home.” At the risk of shocking the gossips, Kate chuckled. “Mother always said ‘If Kathryn never had to walk out the front door again, she’d be perfectly happy.’ She was right. Sidney may have thought he was gaining his freedom by sending me to Scotland. Truth be told, he gave me mine.”

  “I miss my mother. Somehow this all would have been easier with her by my side. She seemed to know the right words to say. The right course of action to take.” She sighed.

  Emily leaned in close, then whispered, “You know, I never believed her carriage rolling over was an accident.”

  “I never believed it either. Father and Sidney would hear none of my suspicions. They wouldn’t even answer my questions,” Kate said quietly. “I felt so alone when she died. Perhaps she would have allowed me to leave Sidney and come home. Although, Father would never have allowed it. He arranged the marriage because the Colquhouns were friendly with the English monarchy. Father wanted Sidney’s royal and social influences for his shipping business. He’s lost that now.”

  “I should not be too surprised. Father never cared for me,” Kate said, dabbing her eyes. “I was valuable when I married to Sidney. Father is a harsh man and has very little time for his daughter, particularly if she is unable or unwilling to further his own ends.”

  The tedious day eventually drew to a close. Lady Colquhoun stood in the foyer once again, this time to say farewell to her guests.

  “Kate, you are exhausted. Get a good night’s sleep. We will see you soon,” Emily said as she hugged her.

  Gerald kissed her hand.

  “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine once I get home. I’ll come back and visit.”

  The last of the mourners left, stuffed with food and drink, toting their gifts and giving their sympathies.

  Kate waved as Emily and Gerald stepped into the night. She took in a deep breath. To hell with her father, and Sidney, for that matter. She was going home. Home to Scotland. She would see to her father’s business when it suited her, not at his dictate. She would take care of closing the house and Sidney’s will. He didn’t want a nuisance; she wouldn’t be one.

  Kate finished up her duties and slowly climbed the staircase, dragging the hem of her gown, too tired to pick it up. Her legs felt like iron. She plodded down the hall past Sidney’s rooms and made her way to the second door and went into her bedchamber.

  Kate rubbed her temples, trying relieve the pressure from the day’s events and from the constant smell of the black dye used to transformed most of her wardrobe into mourning gowns. Kate sighed with exhaustion. Her hands shook slightly as she slipped out of her gown. She had never liked having a maid dress her and would not call for one now. She undressed herself down to her shift and slipped into her floor-length, finely woven cotton robe then stepped over to the window and opened it several inches. She sank gratefully into the heavily cushioned chair close to the curtained window with her legs tucked beneath her and took a deep breath. She could hear the drumming of rain as it fell onto the roof. The wind blew the trees, the leaves fluttered wildly. Kate shivered as she inhaled the cold, fresh air. A brief knock broke the silence and the door opened without her response.

  “You’ll catch your death sitting by an open window.”

  Kate smiled her first genuine smile of the day. John Smithers, her manservant, carried a silver serving tray into the room. He set it on the polished table beside her, then picked up a linen napkin and placed it on her lap. Their eyes met. She saw sympathy in his.

  “It has been a long, arduous day. Your supper, m’lady,” Smithers said softly as he removed the silver covers from his offerings. “I have tea and hot soup for you.”

  Kate lifted the cup to her lips and blew on the hot tea. She sipped and smiled. The taste of chamomile flowers, blackberry leaves, and lemongrass was sweet. Her tension eased. The brew would help her sleep.

  “Thank you, Smithers. I believe this is exactly what I require. The day has left me a bit overwhelmed and weary. I doubted the wretched evening would ever end, truthfully. I am, indeed, enjoying this bit of peace.”

  Kate frowned.

  “Did you see them? Did you see those horrible people watching my every move, waiting for me to make some terrible mistake?”

  “Ah, but you did not make a mistake,” Smithers reassured her. “You handled yourself with grace. Rest assured”—he touched her shoulder—“they leave here frustrated with the lack of fodder you have given them for their entertainment.”

  Kate patted his hand. “Thank you for that, Smithers. I appreciate you saying so. I so depend on you.”

  Smithers gave her hand a gentle squeeze, then let go. He walked over to the fireplace in the far corner of the room, his middle-age figure still straight and proud. He added two logs to the fire and banked it for the night. He crossed to the elaborately hand carved bed, with its curls and ivy. He turned down the sheets, coverlet, and fluffed the down pillows.

  Crossing the room, he said, “I shall close this window so the night air won’t chill you.”

  “Enjoy your peace. I fear it may be a while before you have it again. If you are in need of something you have only to call. I will bring it posthaste.”

  Smithers crossed the room, turning when he reached the door.

  “If I might, offer a bit of advice to you, m’lady,” he said with a brief nod. “Your life has taken an unexpected though welcome turn. Life is full of surprises that often come in odd packages. Do not let the opportunities go by unnoticed because you do not recognize the wrapping,” he said softly.

  “Thank you, Smithers. I do look forward to the surprises.”

  Kate sipped the cooling tea, and
leaned back in the comfortable chair. Her headache eased. She didn’t know what was in her future, couldn’t hope to know. She did anticipate it, whatever it held for her. Smithers was right. Sidney’s death had been a welcome turn of events.

  His pledge to her father and mother, his promises to her and his vows in the church were all a part of Sidney’s lie. Reflecting back, she’d truly believed she and Sidney could be happy. She’d been eager for a life with a loving husband and family and she’d pictured them surrounded by their children and grandchildren. A stab of disappointment and hurt shot through her and she forced her thoughts to Smithers. Smithers had been a constant source of comfort and continuity in her life and she appreciated him and his dedication to her. Because of the formal, uncaring relationship with her father, it was to Smithers she’d run with skinned knees, teary eyes, and broken hearts. Her fears and problems were his to solve and he did so with what seemed to her ease. He was her confidant, her protector, her friend.