Adam's Call (The Victorian Highlanders Book 3)

by Ellie St. Clair

Rachel smiled at her in agreement, before coming to stand beside her. “It would look most becoming on you, Eloise,” she said. “Perhaps it is meant to be yours.”

  “Perhaps,” her friend said, a smile upon her lips. Eloise’s father and Hardwick were acquaintances. He was one of the newly rich, a man her father had been trying to impress for years.

  Rachel and Eloise had met at a function both of their families were attending. They had gotten along fairly well, and while they would never have a deep friendship, they had bonded over their affinity for beautiful things and their love of the latest fashions.

  “You must tell me about your travel to the Highlands,” said Eloise. “What were the people like? What type of houses did they live in? Was it all rather rugged?”

  “It was… intriguing,” said Rachel. “I’ve never seen such beauty as the countryside, and I saw everything from castles to basically shacks that looked as if they were made of the earth. It’s like anywhere I suppose — there are differing ranks and classes. The people there, however, were likely the loveliest I’ve ever met. No matter how rude or horrid a remark was made to them, they were lovely and gracious.”

  “Our fathers — rude?” Eloise laughed, then added with a sly grin, “And did you have some time to better get to know Vincent Thompson?” Rachel knew that Eloise could not understand her hesitancy toward the man, and continued to push the match on Rachel nearly as much as her father did.

  “You will never believe this, Eloise,” she said, feeling rather justified now in her opinions of the man, “But Vincent shot me.”

  “He what?” Eloise whipped around and Rachel nearly laughed at the look on her face. “Whatever do you mean?”

  “I accompanied them on a hunting excursion, and Vincent got it in his mind to go off on his own. He lost track of his surroundings and took a shot that went right into my leg.”

  Eloise stared at her as if she had grown another nose on her face.

  “You cannot be serious.”

  “I am. I am still limping some.”

  “Why, I did not even notice. Why ever would you go on a hunting excursion?” she asked, irking Rachel.

  “Why ever not?” she countered. “What would you expect? That I would sit inside all day while the men went out? I wasn’t even actually hunting; I was just sitting there on my horse!”

  “Still,” said Eloise, her nose in the air. “I do not understand it. Surely you cannot fault Vincent for that.”

  Rachel shrugged, finished discussing this with Eloise. “I cannot say I blamed him, but nor was he completely faultless,” she said. “Regardless, I was well looked after and all is now fine.”

  Eloise moved on from the subject as she walked toward the next dress that caught her eye. “And tell me, are you and Vincent any closer to setting a wedding date? Or, at the very least, officially announcing your betrothal?”

  Rachel felt a twinge in her stomach at the subject. Since the conversation with her father she had, of course, thought of little else than her future. She had always been so sure that there was nothing to truly bind her to Vincent besides her father’s preference. And now… she felt guilt at thinking of anything but her father’s arrangement, and yet she was also equally pulled to Adam and all he had to offer her. Everything her father proposed made sense, from a practical side, and she owed her father for keeping her, for raising her when her mother did not. Her heart, however, had other ideas. Which was she to follow?

  She sighed.

  “No,” she said simply. “I must be going, Eloise. Can we revisit the shop on another day?” She had, suddenly and certainly surprisingly, lost all interest in the dresses before her, and wanted nothing more than to leave Eloise and her probing questions and return home once more.

  20

  The next couple of days passed in a swirl of focus on work for Adam, as he spent nearly all of his time in the power plant, hunched over the desk in the workroom with Sullivan Andrews. Adam enjoyed the man. He was intelligent, slightly absent-minded, and yet together they worked in comfort, understanding one another with few words required. They had built a second prototype, and Adam could feel they were close to a breakthrough on the inner workings of the machine to generate the power.

  Adam had always discussed his projects and ideas with his brothers, but they lacked the same interest and regard as a man like Andrews.

  His evenings, however, were altogether different. Trenton, who Adam rarely saw during working hours, blatantly ignored him, treating him almost like an employee rather than any sort of business partner. Adam still detested London, finding it so busy and crowded with the buildings seemingly falling down on him from where they stood crammed together on the congested, teeming streets. And Rachel… Rachel was difficult to read. She seemed to have closed in on herself. She was still lovely as always, still spoke with him and sent smiles his way, but it was as if the happiness didn’t quite reach her eyes, like there was something more going on.

  He had not spoken to her about their future together since the day her father had warned him off in the carriage, and he needed to know where they stood, yet it seemed there was never a moment when they were truly alone.

  One night he retired to his rooms shortly after their evening meal, but he could no longer focus on the work in front of him. Instead, he worried. He worried about his family and how they were doing at home. He worried over the duties he had left behind. And, more than anything, he worried about Rachel. When they had been in the Highlands, everything had seemed so right. And now they were like pieces of a puzzle that no longer fit together quite as they should.

  The house was still and silent, the few servants having left for the day, as none of them lived in the house. Adam rose from his bed and quietly opened his door, listening for movement in the hall or rooms beyond. Hearing nothing, he slowly padded down the corridor in his stockinged feet, before coming to a halt outside Rachel’s door. He had not been in her bedroom before, of course, and if he were caught, there would certainly be repercussions. But what would those be? Forced marriage? That was what they wanted, anyway.

  He tapped on the door so softly that he wasn’t sure that even Rachel would hear it. He stood, his senses on full alert, and nearly jumped when she opened the door.

  “Adam?” she said quietly, surprise etched on her face as she pulled the door open wider. “What are you doing?”

  “I need to speak with you,” he said, realizing the words sounded much more serious than he had intended as her face fell. “I just… I need to know how things are between us.”

  She nodded her head and bade him to enter. He swallowed hard at the sight of her in her nightgown, long as it was. It completely covered her from neck to ankle, but somehow even the small, perfectly formed toes that peeked out the bottom seemed to call to him.

  Her bedroom was an extension of the drawing room — bright, cheery, and clearly thoughtfully designed. Her love of florals was evident, and he made note to bring her a bouquet for one of the vases that lined the room. In such contrast to his own chamber here, her bed was covered in a red floral pattern, with matching drapes hanging above. She sat on the bed and he perched himself on the window seat.

  “How are you?” he asked suddenly, looking up at her, and she blushed.

  “I’m fine,” she answered. “And you?”

  “Fine as well,” he said. “Sullivan is a joy to work with, though I am looking forward to completing the project and returning to the Highlands.”

  She nodded, though she had a bit of a sad look on her face.

  “Do you — do you still want to come with me?” he asked, suddenly afraid to look at her, fearing her response. When he finally did raise his eyes, he saw she was looking off in the distance over his shoulder, perhaps out the window — he wasn’t sure.

  “I do want to,” she said softly. “I’m just not sure if I can any longer.”

  He swallowed, trying not to show the emotion on his face. It was what he had been afraid of, why he had put off ask
ing her. He had felt it in the pit of his stomach, and yet he hadn’t wanted to allow it out into the open.

  He cleared his throat. “Can ye at least tell me why not?”

  She sighed. “My father has an arrangement with Vincent’s family. They will buy the power plant for a good price, allowing him to run it. In return, I must agree to marry Vincent.”

  “And you are going along with this?” he asked incredulously, shocked at her words. “I thought you were always against marrying Vincent, despite what your father wanted. How many times did you tell me so forcefully that you were not marrying him? And now ye would change your mind, for your father’s benefit?”

  “I was against it and I was not going to marry him,” she said, looking down at her clenched hands. “I didn’t know of this arrangement. And it’s just that my father has done so much for me. He raised me. He provided a roof over my head. He—”

  Adam stood abruptly, walking over to her. He attempted to tamp down his rising frustration. “And just because he did what any parent should, you feel ye are indebted to him? That you must spend the rest of your life doing what he wants of you?”

  “No. Yes. That is, I — I don’t know.”

  “Does he care nothing about how ye feel?” Adam asked, his voice now hardly more than a whisper. “Tell me, Rachel, I need to know. How do you feel?”

  “I… I…” Tears glistened in her eyes as she looked up at him. “You know how I feel,” she whispered, and raised her face to him, offering her lips. His thoughts and all reason left him as he lowered his head, taking her hungrily with a passion that had been building within him for some time. She was all that he wanted, and yet it seemed she was slipping away from him. He deepened the kiss, as if trying to convince her with his actions to stay close to him. Could she not understand that she belonged with him and not with a man who would suck the life out of her in too short a time?

  Her hands came up and fisted in the front of crisp linen shirt that still felt so foreign on his body, as was the entire world here around him. He ran his fingers through her unbound hair flowing down over her back, the waves soft in his rough, calloused hands. He pressed closer to her small body, relishing the feel of her, the taste of her. She spun such a spell around him, making him want more of her even when he knew there was such a great possibility that he would have to say goodbye to her forever.

  He ran his tongue over the seam of her lips, tasting her sweetness and loving every moment of it. She gave a soft moan into his mouth, and as much as he wanted to continue, to take all that she had to give him, somehow it no longer felt right, here in her father’s home, in the middle of a city he hated, with a woman who would rather follow the wishes of her father than her heart. As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t fault her for that. He understood the allegiance to family, as it was part of what he admired about her. She was loyal to a fault.

  He broke his mouth from hers, lifting his head but not pulling away, resting his lips on her forehead, where he planted a sweet kiss before bringing her head into his shoulder. He held her tight, and as he did, he felt a slight wetness on his shirt. He pulled back to find silent tears running down her face, and he gently wiped them with his thumb. He didn’t say anything, as no words were required. She didn’t need to tell him this was goodbye. He knew.

  Sleep remained elusive for the rest of the night. Adam tossed and turned, thinking of all that had happened. He did not regret making love to Rachel in the cottage, but he did feel a deep sense of guilt that he had taken her innocence without marrying her. It did not seem right, and yet he could not very well force her to become his wife. His mind spinning, he rose from his bed and pulled out his plans from his bag. He took them home with him from the power plant every night, as he never knew when inspiration might strike. Besides that, something within him prevented him from leaving them there. He trusted Andrews, but Trenton… Trenton, he did not.

  As he sat there on the hard, cold bed, staring at them, he looked closely at his drawing, picturing the inner workings of the model in his mind. If this piece connected with that… he closed his eyes, trying to see how it would all come together, when suddenly the answer sprang into his consciousness.

  “Yes,” he whispered softly. “That’s it.”

  He found his pencil and began stroking in the final piece that had so eluded him. The despair that had gripped him from his encounter with Rachel remained; however, it was ever so slightly edged out by a growing elation over this project. He didn’t know what had made the final change allowing him to see the solution, but he could hardly believe it had come to him.

  The next day he practically raced to the power plant to share his news with Sullivan Andrews, not noticing who else was present as he rushed to the man’s desk.

  “Andrews! You will never believe it,” he said, as he pulled the plans from his bag and spread them over the assortment of papers that littered the man’s workspace. “I’ve got it!” Andrews looked up at him incredulously while he skimmed his eyes over the work, bringing his gaze up to Adam.

  “That’s it,” he said, his voice low. “You’ve done it, son.” He grinned. “You’ve done it!” He clapped his hands briefly, picking up the plans. “Come, now. We’ll finish the model, and then can hopefully begin a working prototype!”

  “I couldn’t have done it without you,” Adam said, with a nod to the man. “You helped me think it through.”

  It was only then, when he turned to take his new plans into the workroom, that Adam noticed Trenton standing at the entrance to the room, leaning against the doorjamb. He hadn’t joined in the celebration, yet a smug expression covered his face. What was the man about? Adam felt a sense of unease, yet could do nothing but simply nod at him, before turning to follow Andrews into the workroom.

  21

  The cloud of melancholy that had begun to follow her around left Rachel feeling not at all like herself. She thoroughly enjoyed keeping a rather sunny state of mind, and yet, since the conversation with her father, she felt nothing but regret that the life that had seemed so clear since her time with Adam in the woods had become so dismally cloudy.

  The more she was with him, the more she wanted him — for now, and for the rest of her life. And yet, how could she so directly go against what her father wanted, what he had been planning for her? Her father had given her everything while her mother had wanted nothing to do with her. To betray him now seemed the ultimate form of ungratefulness. So why did following his expectations feel so wrong?

  That morning, long after Adam had left for the power plant, Eloise came to visit her. After she was shown into Rachel’s drawing room, she had a smirk on her face as she sat on the armless green easy chair.

  “Good morning, Eloise,” said Rachel, lifting the teapot in front of her and pouring her friend a cup as she tried to inject cheer into her voice. “Lovely of you to visit this morning.”

  “How could I not?” asked Eloise, bringing the cup to her lips. “For I could not help but come to congratulate you on your engagement.”

  “My engagement?” Rachel looked up at her in surprise.

  “But of course,” said Eloise, raising her eyebrows. “It was in today’s paper. Surely you must be aware?”

  “No… I have not yet had the chance to read the paper,” she said, her heart sinking. It would be just like her father to post the announcement without even telling her about it. She rose, walking over to the side table where the papers were piled. She had honestly not even looked at them the past few days, so caught up was she in her own melodrama.

  She opened the page to the announcement section, and there it was, in print in front of her face. Hardwick Trenton, owner of Trenton Andrews Power Plant, was proud to announce the engagement of his daughter, Rachel Trenton, to Vincent Thompson, son of Bosworth Thompson and a recent partner in the business. Vincent had been made partner? Then Rachel realized that was the least of her worries. Her engagement was now public, for all of London to see, and she had not even agreed to it
. Anger began rising in her chest, and she made for the door to find her father and tell him exactly what she thought of his—

  “Is it what you expected?” Eloise’s voice cut in, and Rachel suddenly remembered the woman, who was all smiles as she sat at the table, looking at her in a way that said she knew exactly what was at play here, that Rachel had no say in this. Yet Eloise seemed somewhat pleased by the entire situation, and it made Rachel’s skin crawl.

  “Yes,” said Rachel, pasting a smile on her face and returning to her seat. “It was.” She sipped her tea, biding the time until Eloise left. She would not show the woman an ounce of weakness, but would instead wait until she left to determine her next actions.

  Having concluded a productive morning completing the model, Adam leaned back from the worktable with a feeling of satisfaction. Andrews gave him a similar nod of approval as they reviewed the work in front of them.

  “Have you spoken with Trenton regarding your compensation?” Andrews asked, looking at him over the tops of his glasses.

  “My compensation?” asked Adam. “My partnership, you mean?”

  “Partnership?” echoed Andrews, concern wrinkling his forehead. “He never said anything to me regarding a partnership. No, as far as I was aware, he was going to pay you for your work and for the design. In fact, Thompson has recently been made a partner in the business, and I know Trenton was not interested in any further divesting of shares. I’m sorry, son, I thought this was the agreement you had come to with him. It seems I was wrong… or perhaps Trenton mislead one of us.”

  The unease that had been simmering in Adam’s gut regarding this arrangement began to slither up his belly and into his throat. So, Trenton meant to keep him out of future profits, did he?

  “Excuse me, Andrews, it seems I need to have a word with the man.”

  He shoved open the door before making his way to Trenton’s office, entering without knocking. The office was empty, though the cup of coffee steaming on the desk told him the man hadn’t been gone long and should be returning shortly. Adam sat in the chair in front of the desk, arms crossed as he stewed, waiting for Trenton to return. Who did he think he was, cutting him out like that? Although, he realized, he partially had himself to blame. He had known from the beginning what kind of man Trenton was, and he should never have trusted him at all.