“I will help you with the girls. You need not sacrifice yourself. You will eventually find a new steward and a governess.” Her tone was reassuring.
“But how many will suffer in the meantime? I am as a newborn babe. And while your intentions are appreciated, I cannot expect you to fulfil these duties. I expect that, after a time, you will grow tired of being here alone.”
“No,” she said emphatically. “I would do anything not to be forced into an arranged marriage.”
Gavin agreed; the thought of marrying a stranger was equally unwelcome to him, but he would do it for the girls and the estate. He glanced back toward the shore to check on his daughters’ well-being. Lady Ida was napping on the blanket.
“I think her body is going through its natural changes,” Lady Margaux said following his eyes to Catriona.
“Ah. She must be missing her mother very much at the moment, then,” he said, feeling a rush of understanding.
“Yes, I believe she is embarrassed to approach you, even though you are a doctor.”
“I understand the anatomical phenomenon, but I have never experienced it, of course. I am verra grateful to you for talking to her.”
“What are neighbours for?”
“Indeed.” But for how long? he asked himself again. He would have to settle for whatever help she was willing to give for the time she was allowed to remain.
“Do you think the village is always so welcoming to strangers?” she asked sardonically.
“I doona remember them being so unfriendly.”
“But you grew up here,” she pointed out.
“Aye. They will come about. Once you have been introduced and they realize you are here to stay.”
“I hope so,” she agreed quietly.
Gavin nodded to another boat passing by as they rowed back toward the shore.
“You will meet more of local society at the Squire’s tomorrow evening.”
“Yes, it is difficult to cut people once they are acquaintances,” she said acerbically.
When they drew close to the shore, Lady Ida was splashing about in the water with the girls, their skirts tied above their knees. Lady Margaux sighed audibly. He tried not to laugh.
“Very ladylike, Aunt,” Lady Margaux teased with unsuppressed humour.
“Shall we see what Cook packed for dessert?” Gavin suggested.
They climbed from the boat and proceeded to indulge in Cook’s jam tarts, before Maili fell asleep and they went their separate ways.
Chapter 6
Margaux could not remember the last time she had been nervous about going into any society, let alone local, small village society. Perhaps, if she were honest, she had been a little anxious before her own début in London. At least her sisters had shared the stage with her on that occasion. Here, she was to meet the high society of the area, as befitted her new status, which would make her new home pleasant or miserable. She tried to tell herself she would be content to live in seclusion and not socialize with the neighbours at all. Maybe she would be, but it went against human nature not to desire acceptance.
She wore her emerald green satin gown. She had never fancied herself in virginal white, and she was making a statement tonight. She prayed that by arriving with Lord Craig and Lady Ida, it would pave the way for a more pleasant welcome than she had received in church, even though originally the invitation had been extended to her parents.
She knew Lord Craig was here to survey his options for a wife amongst the ladies of the neighbourhood, and she was hoping to establish herself on her own. Nevertheless, she was grateful he had offered to accompany them tonight.
The manor was more modern than Castle Craig or Breconrae. Boasting three extensive wings and two-storeyed, mullioned windows, it was a large, well-proportioned house, surrounded by manicured gardens. The interior was elegant, and was already crowded with guests.
Greeted cautiously by the hosts, Squire and Mrs. McDougal, Margaux immediately sensed she was not welcome, though they uttered the normal niceties. Lord Craig led his party on into the drawing room and chose seats for them along the aisle toward the centre of the room. Margaux again felt the disdain of haughty stares, and wondered how she could be made to feel smaller in a cramped Scottish drawing room than a London ballroom. Was there any place on earth where she would fit in?
Thankfully, the music began and Margaux was soon lost in the pleasure of Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata. She had not, of late, spent enough time with her violin. She would remedy that soon by indulging in her favourite hobby. The second act was a soprano, whom Margaux recognized vaguely from London. A Miss Davis, she thought, searching her memory. Their eyes met, and the soprano’s appeared to narrow. How strange, Margaux reflected. She could not recollect having had so much as a conversation with the girl before, so she dismissed the look to her imagination.
When the intermission arrived, Lord Craig left to procure refreshment, and to Margaux’s astonishment, she was approached by her most ardent and persistent of suitors in London, Sir Thomas Ashley-Long. Sir Thomas was a leader of the Corinthian set, who thought as highly of himself as did the fawning puppies who followed him about, attempting to copy his physical prowess. He had proposed to Margaux three times, and seemed to find sport in trying new ways to convince her. He did not appear to comprehend the meaning of the word ‘no’. She suspected he had been the one to label the triplets with their nicknames, and he frequently delighted in teasing her with hers. She could not imagine it was coincidence that found him in her vicinity now.
Why ever would someone persist in their attentions when it had been made very plain they were most unwelcome? She could surmise no other reason than it offered him sport, for there were dozens of beautiful débutantes who had thrown out lures to him.
“Lady Margaux, what a delightful surprise, to be sure. I am overcome with astonishment to find you in Scotland, of all places!” Sir Thomas said dramatically, reaching for her hand, which she reluctantly gave to prevent herself from appearing rude.
“Sir Thomas. I assure you there is no greater surprise than mine. My family has an estate here, so my presence is quite natural.”
“Breathing fire so early in the evening, my dragon?” he asked with an amused affection that only served to irritate her. “My sister and I are visiting our cousins who live near Ballach.” He seated himself comfortably next to her and twirled his quizzing glass.
“I am surprised anything could compel you to leave London before the Season had ended,” Margaux retorted.
“Are you, dear Fire?” He looked at her with the hint of condescension which never failed to infuriate her. She did not know why he bothered her so much. He was a fine specimen of a man, but he always talked to her in a manner that inferred she was already his and he was indulging her by waiting for her acceptance.
“Would you be kind enough to take a turn about the terrace with me?” He stood and held out his arm.
Margaux hesitated. He would likely persist in harassing her unless she humoured him.
“Very well.” She turned to her aunt, who was staring blankly again. “Aunt, I will return shortly.”
Aunt Ida smiled and nodded before returning to her favourite spot along the wall. Margaux took Sir Thomas’s arm and went with him to the terrace. She saw Lord Craig talking to Miss Davis as she left. Mayhap the narrowed eyes had had meaning after all.
“Where are Lord and Lady Ashbury?” Sir Thomas questioned.
Margaux bit her lip before answering. “They have returned to London.” Boldly, she looked into his eyes, daring him to accuse her of hiding.
“I see. You are here alone, then.”
“No, I am with my aunt,” she said defiantly.
“On a repairing lease?” Both his tone and words mocked her.
“I am here to stay.”
His face broke into a knowing smile. “Ah. So you preferred someone else to me and he abandoned you.”
“No!” she insisted.
“If you won�
�t have me for a husband, perhaps we could make other arrangements.” His voice husky with salacious intent. Sliding his arms around her, he pulled her to him.
“Oh, I beg your pardon!”
Margaux heard a female voice as she struggled to pull out of Sir Thomas’s embrace. This was certainly not how she would make a good impression in the locality.
“It is not what you think,” Sir Thomas said to Miss Davis, who eyed Margaux with distaste.
Margaux wanted to laugh. Now he did not wish to have her for a wife. Then she heard the music begin and she could have wept. Now her shame was witnessed and she would be seen walking in late to the drawing room. Miss Davis had already returned there, and she was left alone with Sir Thomas again.
She turned to go back and face the disapprobation, whereupon he reached out for her.
“Margaux, don’t go. I apologize!” he called after her as she evaded his grasp and slipped through a back door and made for the retiring room.
She stayed there some time until her anger had cooled. Hopefully, by now, Sir Thomas had returned to the main gathering and no one would associate her absence with his. She gathered her courage and returned to the drawing room. The music had ended and she glanced around for her aunt. Her eyes met Lord Craig’s, as Miss Davis flitted her fan flirtatiously in front of him. As Margaux stood at the edge of the room, she overheard loud whispers.
“The poor girl must not know any better. I hear she is French and they have notoriously loose ways. Coming here dressed like an opera dancer…” a haughty female voice said.
“I hear she was ruined in London and came here to hide,” another voice said in a confiding whisper.
“I am astonished she has the brass to show her face in public. She even went to church alone! And then again, she was seen out on the loch alone with a man.”
She’d had a maid with her at church even if she was in the carriage, she thought indignantly. Word certainly spread quickly in the country!
“I am thankful Thomas had a narrow escape! He was dangling after her in London. How was I to know? She is the daughter of a marquess.” The woman clucked.
Margaux did not want to hear any more. She should have expected this. She held up her head and walked right past the gossiping harridans, muttering in French for their benefit.
“Imbéciles! Un groupe inutile de commères!”
They all considered her ruined. If word got back to London—which of course it would—her parents would come straight back and try to make her leave. Not that she gave a fig what these biddies thought, but she would not easily be able to stay here alone. Was there anything she could do to save her reputation? In London, marriage was the only way. Sometimes a repairing lease would answer—but she was already on one. There had to be a way, or she would be married off to one of the London suitors. Her mother was a force to be reckoned with in the ton, but would that be enough? Was Lord Craig aware of the gossip? She walked toward him, her head high, pretending nothing was wrong.
“Lord Craig, would it trouble you to escort us home?” she asked politely with a smile.
“Of course not, lass. I will call for the carriage, if you care to bring Lady Ida to the entrance hall.”
“Thank you.”
She wondered if she should she tell him what had transpired on the way home or wait for him to hear the gossip? Now, where was Aunt Ida?
The next day, from his study, Gavin spotted a gig drawing in through the gates of the castle. He wondered who could be visiting at this hour. Perhaps the vicar was out on his rounds. He cut across the lawn to meet the carriage.
He was astonished to find Lady Margaux and Lady Ida climbing down from the vehicle.
“Good morning, Lord Craig,” Lady Margaux said with a cheerful smile, taking his extended hand.
“Good morning, ladies. This is a pleasant surprise.” He bowed to each of them.
Lady Ida held out her hand. “Who are you?” she asked with a vacant gaze.
“This is Lord Craig, Aunt Ida, remember?”
“Why, no. I would remember that face. I am pleased to meet you, sir.” She held out her hand and smiled flirtatiously.
He held back a laugh and he kissed her hand. At least she was pleasantly demented.
“Forgive us for calling uninvited,” Lady Margaux said, “but we did not settle if your girls would come to me or I would come to them for lessons today.”
“I beg your pardon, I had not thought,” Gavin said. “There are many things for me to learn.”
“It is no bother. I was planning which lessons to do with them and thought to search the nursery here for supplies.”
“I am verra grateful to you,” he said. “Please make yourself at home. I will tell Mrs. Ennis to make you welcome. And do not listen to what she says of me as a boy. It is not true.” He laughed.
“I cannot imagine you as anything other than charming.” He observed Lady Margaux blush when she realized what she had said. “I am sorry. I did not mean to...”
“I took it the way intended. Let me send for the girls.” Gavin turned and led the way to the small back parlour and rang for the girls to be brought down.
“Lady Margaux!” Catriona shrieked.
“Princess!” She and Maili came over to greet her.
“Good morning, Catriona and Maili.” Lady Margaux gave a small curtsy, which they dutifully returned, looking somewhat shamefaced at their lack of manners.
“Have you come to dance?”
“I am afraid not. We will have to arrange for either a dancing master or someone to play. There must be music or someone to show you the steps,” Lady Margaux explained.
The girls frowned in disappointment.
“I doona play, girls. I’m sorry,” Gavin said at their obvious sadness.
“I play.” From her chair by the window, Lady Ida spoke up.
Gavin and Lady Margaux looked at each other with surprise.
“You do?” Lady Margaux asked sweetly.
“Of course. I do not remember much else.” Lady Ida stood and looked around for something. “Where is that pianoforte?”
Gavin smothered a chuckle. “I suspect it was taken off to the music room. Shall we go and see?”
The girls jumped up and down excitedly and followed them out.
They found the room, which looked as if it had not seen much use. Iain’s boys had been much keener on fishing and riding, Gavin remembered.
Lady Ida sat down at the piano and began to plunk out some tunes. Gavin had seen cases where memory loss had occurred with respect to new things rather than old. If Lady Ida had played for countless hours as a girl, it could account for her ability to remember.
She stopped and looked up. “Are you going to dance?”
“Show us how, Princess,” Maili exclaimed.
Lady Margaux looked towards Gavin to see if he was willing. “Shall we?”
“I would love to see a waltz,” Catriona said dreamily.
“A waltz? But it will be many years before you may do such a thing. Why not learn a simple country dance first?” Lady Margaux suggested.
“Please? Just to watch?” Catriona pleaded.
“I can waltz with you, lass, if you’ve no objection?” Gavin had always enjoyed dancing. He had learned to waltz whilst staying with the Eastons, who were a merry bunch.
“None,” Lady Margaux said, but looked surprised. “I wonder if Aunt knows any to play.” She appeared to think for a moment. “Aunt Ida, do you know any songs in three-quarter time?”
“Why, certainly.”
Surprisingly, Lady Ida began the Viennese waltz, and Gavin gathered Lady Margaux’s hand and placed his arm on her waist. In that moment, everything changed. With her touch, he was awakened from his trance-like existence. He would be cold-blooded if he did not acknowledge his reaction to her. Even though he had been told he was handsome, he had always been intimidated by beauty such as hers. She was beautiful and elegant in a way he was not. But in this moment, he felt different in h
er company. He needed to divert his thoughts quickly. He had not felt this way since Lady Beatrice. He had thought that part of him was dead. They were friends.
“I do not know if waltzing fits with my new spinster role,” Lady Margaux said with a laugh, interrupting his thoughts.
“I think you will have a difficult time as a spinster, to be honest, lass. It seemed as if one of your suitors may have followed you here.”
“It is to be hoped he realized his mistake last night,” she said, with a crease between her brows.
“Was he inappropriate on the terrace?” Gavin asked, his forehead crinkling into a concerned frown.
“Sir Thomas is harmless. Unfortunately, your Miss Davis came upon him trying to convince me of his charms.”
“So that was what she was trying to hint at,” Gavin said thoughtfully.
“She had the nerve to tell you that? I should not be surprised. She was giving me looks when she saw me sitting with you. No doubt you are accustomed to females throwing themselves at you.”
“Aye. I’m afraid so.” He chuckled. “It became obvious to me as a doctor, when I would be called upon over and over for suspicious ailments. It was good for my practice though.”
“Do you realize, that now you are titled with property, it will only be worse? Did you notice the birds circling last evening?” she asked teasingly.
“I confess I had hoped I would find a candidate for the position of Lady Craig.”
“Were you successful?”
He shook his head. “I’m afraid not. The only one who might have suited became ineligible when she attempted to malign you.”
“I am much obliged, Lord Craig, but you must not feel the need to fight my battles for me. I knew there would be some talk when I assumed a life of independence, but I underestimated how quickly gossip spreads and takes on a life of its own.”
He looked down at her. “Did something else happen last night?”
Through the Fire Page 6