“So you have heard, then?” Gavin asked with surprise at being called by his brother’s title.
“I have. My condolences. Will you join me? My party has retired.” Ashbury held out his hand towards the table. “You may not know I was acquainted with your father when I was a child. I spent much of my youth at a property near to Castle Craig, and recently I had become well acquainted with your brother. Lady Ashbury favours living in town, or France, so we are seldom in Scotland. I have opened a home for girls in the old dower house on the estate, and we come through from time to time. We are now here for a short visit, though I could happily spend the entire summer.”
“Do you mean Breconrae? I vaguely remember the name Ashbury as the owner of the estate. I remember a dowager residing there when I was a child.”
“Indeed. My mother. She has since passed on, but an aunt still lives there. Do you only now go to the castle?”
Gavin shook his head. “I have been back to Alberfoyle.”
“Ah, yes, I imagine closing your practice and moving takes time to settle. Would you be able to join us for dinner next week? Lady Ashbury will be disappointed to know she missed you tonight, but will have my hide if I don’t secure you for dinner. A quiet evening, I assure you.”
“I would be honoured, thank you.”
The Craig party was back on the road early the next day, eager to reach the castle while it was still daylight. The rolling hills and valleys were dotted with grazing sheep, and the lanes were narrow and steep. The girls held their breath several times as the carriage climbed, then descended quickly. For some time, the latter part of the journey was alongside the River Clyde, before they finally pulled through the massive iron gates of the Craig estate. This was the stage of the journey where Gavin had usually urged his horse forward with anticipation of greeting his family.
“Are we almost there, Papa Craig?” Maili asked for the hundredth time.
“Almost, lass. We are on the property now,” he said with patience. “We will cross a large stone bridge when we are there.”
“You own all of this?” Catriona asked, wide-eyed. Both girls were watching out of the windows with eager interest.
“Aye. Beyond the woods, the castle overlooks the loch, and the other side of the property is covered in fields of barley all the way to the village,” he pointed and explained.
“Are there any other children near?” she asked hopefully.
“I doona ken, lass. I am certain there are some in the village.”
They turned around the southern edge of the lake and a massive stone edifice broke into their view. Gavin had been raised here, but that seemed a lifetime ago. He had no desire to be the owner of a castle or bear the responsibility that went with it. The building looked as if it were from the age of Camelot. It appeared medieval, complete with turrets and archers’ slits. He and Iain had captured their Guineveres here and slain innumerable dragons and Loch Ness monsters.
“I do not believe it. A real castle,” Maili exclaimed.
“I told you it was, lass,” he said with amusement.
“Is there a dungeon?” she asked, with frightening zeal.
“Of course there is. Don’t be daft,” her sister chided.
“Aye. And we lock up naughty children there,” he said, chuckling and shaking his head.
Her eyes went wide, then narrow. “Are you bamming me, Papa Craig?”
“I hope you will never find out,” he said with a wink.
Maili could barely contain her excitement as the carriage pulled to a stop. The servants had lined up dutifully to welcome the girls to their new home. Gavin held their hands and reminded them to mind their manners, then introduced them to the staff.
“Miss Catriona and Maili Douglas, this is Tallach, the butler, and Mrs. Ennis, the housekeeper. They ken more about the place than I do.”
The girls made curtsies and the staff smiled. Neither Maili nor Catriona were used to the pomp of a house of this stature. Nor was he, any more. He had to suppress the disappointment he felt and smile too. He would make the best of the situation. He planned to do as much good as a landlord as he could as a doctor, once he learned how.
He watched fondly as Mrs. Ennis took the girls, who were hand in hand, through the great oak doors. Everything would be all right, he reassured himself.
Chapter 2
Lady Margaux Winslow had wanted to join a convent, but her parents had insisted she instead remove to their new orphanage for a short repairing lease. She had become enamoured with Scotland a few years before, when she had visited Lord Vernon’s estate, to the north of Glasgow, while they were courting. Despite her less fortunate outcome, she still loved Scotland.
After Lord Vernon had married his true love instead, her family had attempted to divert her with trips to London, and to the Continent once Napoleon had been defeated. But she had come to the realization that she was content on her own. She had always been the most independent of her sisters, and decided that brilliant marriages could be left in their capable hands. She certainly preferred the spinster state to marrying for convenience. She found she was content helping with the orphans, though she did very little thanks to the competent staff which her family had appointed.
“What are you pondering, mon chere?” Margaux heard her mother ask.
“Very little, Maman,” she remarked, as they sat darning socks for some of the children. Her parents had remained with her, hopeful to change her mind.
“We are having a guest for dinner tonight. Someone interested in contributing to the orphans.”
“Très bien,” she said absent-mindedly. Guests were a normal occurrence with her parents.
“You should wear the emerald satin—bring some colour to your face, non?”
“If you wish, Maman.” Margaux cared little for what she wore these days.
“Allons y.” Lady Ashbury stood and directed her daughter to do the same. “I will see you at dinner.”
Lady Margaux went through the motions of dressing. Her maid arranged her hair in a manner worthy of a ball, she noticed. She had to admit she had been experiencing a mild case of the dismals. Once she established a routine here she would come out of it, she was certain. She had never been one to sulk, but she needed to find something useful to occupy her time. No, she corrected her thoughts. To make a new life.
She made her way downstairs, determined to be more cheerful. If she could only convince her parents she was happy here, then they would be satisfied she was content.
“Ah, there she is now, Lord Craig,” Lord Ashbury said as he saw her.
“Dr. Craig?” Margaux said, stunned as she met the eyes of the handsome doctor who had been enamoured of Lady Beatrice.
“He is now Lord Craig,” her father corrected.
Whatever was he doing here?
“Doctor suits me fine,” Lord Craig added as he bowed. “How are you, Lady Margaux?”
She dipped a curtsy. “I am well, thank you. I should offer my condolences then, I presume?”
“Thank you. It was verra unexpected. My brother had three sons,” he said sombrely.
“I imagine it was much unexpected, then,” Lady Ashbury sympathized.
“Hopefully your brother had a good steward. I met the old steward over a decade ago,” Lord Ashbury remarked. “I imagine he has been replaced by now.”
“He is the same, and has at least eighty years behind him.” Gavin shook his head.
“Is he running everything to satisfaction?” Lord Ashbury looked doubtful.
“I have no idea if he is or not. I doona ken, other than to look at the repair of the tenants’ cottages,” Gavin said candidly with a laugh. “I was mad for medicine from an early age. I ken little about managing estates.”
“Mon Dieu,” Lady Ashbury sympathized. “Perhaps we may help.”
“I am not sure anyone can help.” Gavin shook his head in dismay.
Lady Ashbury took his arm and began leading him to the dining room. “Let us discuss this
further over dinner. Everything looks better with good food, non?”
Lord Ashbury escorted his elderly aunt, Lady Ida, who also lived at Breconrae, and Lady Margaux followed quietly behind, wondering how having Lord Craig for a neighbour would affect her plans for a quiet life here. He was refreshingly different from the men she had run from London to avoid.
Gavin had not known Lady Margaux would be here when he had accepted Lord Ashbury’s invitation. She was more stunning than he remembered, with her ebony hair, porcelain skin and light eyes. Yet, she seemed different somehow; more subdued than the outspoken young lady she had been a few years earlier, when he had met her at Alberfoyle Priory. That seemed a lifetime ago. He could claim no more than a slight acquaintance with her or her sisters when they had visited Alberfoyle. He had been completely overwhelmed with all three of the triplets before him at once.
No matter he had been raised the son of a Scottish laird, he was more uneasy in the presence of aristocracy now that he held a title. There would be different expectations. He knew he was being unfair to the Ashbury ladies. They had been nothing but kind. However, he could not help but feel inadequate around their beauty and sophistication. Subconsciously, he looked down at his plain black coat and pantaloons. He ought to see a tailor. Not that he wished to be a dandy, but he knew a man in his position must look respectable in a different way from a country doctor, who dressed more for practical reasons than fashion. He did not belong here.
“How long has it been, my lord?”
He looked up to see Lady Margaux’s stunning blue-green eyes observing him questioningly. Lord Vernon had had a choice between her and Lady Beatrice. She was eyeing him expectantly. He should have been paying more attention. He had been lost in his thoughts.
“I beg your pardon. How long has what been?” he asked.
“How long since the accident,” she replied with sorrow in her eyes.
“Three months,” he answered, as he met her gaze.
“That is not long,” Lady Margaux said quietly.
“No,” he agreed sombrely.
“I imagine my nephew Easton and his wife were disappointed to lose you. They had great hopes of you joining them at their medical school,” Lady Ashbury said.
“As did I. I have not ascertained how I will be able to continue practising medicine now.”
“Perhaps you may help with the needs of the girls here from time to time,” Lord Ashbury suggested.
“Aye. I would like that. Once I have everything situated. Thus far I have had my hands full learning to be a father,” Gavin replied.
“I had not realized any children were left behind,” Lady Ashbury said in confusion.
“No. These are my children,” he said feeling mild amusement.
“Oh?”
“I took over guardianship of three orphans from Alberfoyle. They are the children of a gentleman. As I had become extremely fond of them, I decided I would adopt them. The son was serving an apprenticeship with me and is now in school in Glasgow,” Gavin explained.
“Seamus?” Margaux asked with recognition.
“I thought they became Loring’s wards?” Lord Ashbury spoke in a reflective tone.
“He has helped support them financially, but they chose to remain at Alberfoyle. I’ve supported Seamus through his medical studies,” Gavin explained.
“And you have been there otherwise,” Margaux remarked.
He nodded. “I saw them frequently when I was in Alberfoyle. I asked them to come when I found out I would be moving here. I hope I haven’t made a mistake,” he said sadly.
“A mistake?” Margaux questioned.
“I’ve no idea how to be a father. I think they are lonely. Seamus is away at school. It is just the girls and a nurse. I’ve advertised for a governess, but we have had only a few applicants thus far.” He looked at a point on the wall above her head, lost in thought.
“Perhaps the girls would enjoy visiting here? It is not above three miles from your home,” Lord Ashbury suggested.
“Oui. That is a wonderful idea,” Lady Ashbury agreed. “It will give them a diversion, and us the chance to meet other girls.”
“I would be happy to have them visit,” Margaux smiled.
Gavin let out a sigh of relief.
“I am much obliged to you. I think they would like that very much.” He smiled at them. “They are overwhelmed in the large empty castle. As am I.”
“Everything is still new and different. All will be well in time,” Margaux reassured him.
“Enough of me. How is your school?” Gavin asked Lord Ashbury.
“We opened ours not long after Vernon opened his. We take only girls who have fallen on hard times or been taken advantage of.” Lord Ashbury spoke proudly.
“Who may not necessarily wish to join a convent.” Lady Ashbury coughed and exchanged glances with her daughter.
Gavin felt perplexed but did not question.
There was no polite answer he could make to this, so he changed the subject.
“Where do you spend most of your time, then, if not at Breconrae?”
“I was here often before I married. My parents preferred living here. After I married, we spent many years in France before the war. My son appears to have little interest in settling down here, so we decided to convert the dower house to a home for the less fortunate. Aunt Ida lived here with my mother until she passed away,” Lord Ashbury answered.
They all turned to look at Aunt Ida, who was chewing her food but staring into space.
“We split our time between our other homes,” Lady Ashbury explained. “Usually we are in London at this time.” She cast another pointed glance at Margaux.
“You need not stay here on my account.” Margaux smiled mischievously at her mother.
Lady Ashbury stood, cutting the conversation off abruptly, signalling she and Margaux would move to the parlour.
“Lord Craig, would you mind if we skip the port and join the ladies?” Lord Ashbury asked, perhaps sensing he might need to intervene between his wife and daughter.
“Not at all. I am not much for port myself,” Gavin conceded.
Margaux smiled to herself as she walked into the drawing room. Her father had not outright supported her decision to live alone, but he had not forbidden it, either. They settled themselves comfortably as they waited for tea to be brought in.
“How long do you plan to visit?” Lord Craig asked.
“That depends on Margaux,” her mother responded.
Lord Craig wore a curious expression and glanced towards her with his piercing blue eyes. A lock of his dark hair had fallen over his forehead, and she had to turn away before she reached over to brush it back.
“I do not intend to leave.” She looked at her parents with mild defiance. “I do not know how many ways to tell you, I am not going back to London.”
Her mother sat quietly. She appeared to be controlling her temper.
“Dearest, I understand your sentiments, but perhaps after some time away you will reconsider,” her father said gently.
Margaux shook her head. Her father sighed. Lord Craig shifted in his seat. He must wish himself anywhere but here at the moment.
Margaux had endured years of being paraded about before suitors, none of whom she had been interested in or felt a connection to. She and her sisters were frequently the focal point of gossip; three identical, exotic-looking French girls tended to have that effect. At first, she’d been pitied. Society had assumed she was wearing the willow for Lord Vernon. Then, fickle society had decided she was too fastidious in her notions and she had a sharp tongue. Some had even taken to calling the triplets Fire, Wind and Ice. Margaux was, of course, the fire-breathing dragon.
She had been terribly unhappy in London, never seeming to fit in, only being accepted for her name and her beauty. She had decided to give up on trying to find love. It was better to be alone than ridiculed.
“Please, Maman. Accept my choice. Go back to London to be with Jo
lie,” she pleaded. Lady Beaujolais was one of her triplet sisters who actually enjoyed ton life.
Her mother shook her head and refused to look at her. She jumped to her feet.
“Would you excuse me?” Margaux asked. “I find myself in need of some fresh air.”
“May I join you?” Gavin surprised her by asking, then looked to her father who nodded. They walked out to the terrace, where the sun was just beginning to set in the sky.
“I apologize, Lord Craig. My situation is hardly something you would wish to hear about.” Margaux took a seat on one of the stone terrace benches looking out over the valley toward the Firth.
“There is nothing to apologize for,” he reassured her. “I have spent the evening gauchely pouring out my problems to you.” He leaned an elbow against the balustrade of the terrace. He was very masculine, standing there casually; so different from many of the starchy men Margaux had been courted by in London. She was aware of his masculinity, and it unnerved her as she felt his gaze on her.
“Not at all.” She looked up and smiled at him.
“What troubles you then? Did something happen in London?”
He appeared concerned as he looked directly into her eyes. Suddenly, her problems seemed ridiculous. Why was she opening her heart to him? He was easy to talk to and that was disturbing. She guarded her next words as she stood and walked around, pulling petals off the flower she had plucked from the rhododendron.
“No one thing happened. But I am weary of the Marriage Mart. I want to make my home here, but my parents do not wish me to become a spinster, Lord Craig.”
“I’m sure they only want what is best for you, lass,” he said in a soothing voice.
“I am at peace with my decision, but they are not.” She plucked another petal.
“I am sure in time…”
“They will not leave until I agree to return with them.” The stem was devoid of petals, so she tossed it over the balustrade and returned to sit down.
“Will they not leave you for a time, perhaps?’ he suggested.
Through the Fire Page 2