“Is unforgivable,” he finished. “As is what he did to your Mr. McDougall.”
“He’s not my Mr. McDougall any longer,” she said in hushed tones.
Sullivan walked over to her, lifting her face to look at him. “Do you not love him, child?”
“No,” she said immediately. “How can I love a man who would suspect me of such treachery? I understand his thoughts but still…”
“How do you feel now that he is gone? Do you think of him?”
“Do I think of him?” she asked, looking down, her eyes tearing up of their own accord. “I do more than think of him. I see him everywhere I go. Every time I turn a corner around a street, I expect him to be there. Every time I walk down the corridor of our home I expect he will be awaiting me. Every time I walk into a room, I want to see his smile. Even now, I can almost feel his presence in this room, and yet the fact that he is not here… it makes me feel utterly bereft.”
“And yet you say that you do not love him?”
“Oh bother, of course I love him!” she burst out, the tears now flowing down her cheeks, and yet she felt no shame. “I love him with every cell of my being. And yet I have tried so hard to deny it, to push it away so that it does not hurt quite so much when I come to the realization that I shall likely never see him again. Yet I will think of him for the rest of my life.”
“Rachel,” Sullivan said, placing one hand on her shoulder as he handed her his handkerchief. “You have been a wonderful daughter to your father. You have supported him, you have done his bidding, you have kept his house for him. But to give up the rest of your life because of a deal he made without your knowledge goes above and beyond what any parent should ask of their child. Be happy, my dear. Find your man and do what gives you the most joy in your heart.”
Rachel began crying earnestly as she launched herself into his arms, tears flowing into the shoulder that smelled like tobacco and dusty bookshelves.
“He will never take me back now. He believes I was part of a scheme to bring him here and steal his plans,” she said, wiping her eyes and nose as she pushed away from him.
“I think, when he truly considers the issue, he will realize that you could never betray him like that,” said Sullivan gently. “And besides, that — I have a plan.”
23
For the first time since he had returned from London, Adam stepped into his workroom and looked around it in silence. It was near completely bare now but for wood shavings and the odd piece of metal he hadn’t seen fit to use sitting on or under the table. He was typically fairly particular in keeping his space tidy, but he had left in a rather bit of haste. It had only been a few weeks, and yet it seemed like it had been a lifetime ago that he had held such high hopes for both his work and his life with Rachel. Now the emptiness of the room reminded him of all that he had lost.
He sighed as he threw his bag on the table, emptying it of the contents he had managed to bring back with him. His mind was as blank as the workspace when he tried to think of what next to work on. Clearly, anything regarding his wind model was no longer an option, as Trenton would have the patents on it. If nothing else, the man had enough guile to cover anything that might be required to keep Adam from having any sort of claim to the invention.
He turned around and leaned back against the table, looking out the building’s lone window at the hills beyond. At the very least, he was back where he belonged.
His attention was directed to the door as he could hear footsteps approaching. Not the heavy footsteps of one of his brothers, but the light, skipping pattern he would recognize anywhere as his sister’s. The girl never walked anywhere, he thought with a grin, but rather ran or floated her way through life.
“Adam!” she exclaimed as she came sailing through the door. “I thought I might find you here.”
“Find me you did,” he said as he pushed away from the table and stood to face her, knowing what was to come. “Is there anything I can help you with?”
“We just haven’t had any time alone since ye returned—”
“I only returned yesterday.”
“Aye, but still,” she said, determined to say whatever it was she had come here to say to him. “You must tell me what happened, Adam. Tell me all of it. And not just about your wind invention, but about Rachel. And don’t try to tell me there was nothing, because I saw the way the two of you stared at each other, thinking no one was looking. You have feelings for her, I know you do, and I know she feels the same for you.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Peg,” he said, as he pulled the two stools of the room from under the table and carried one over to her. “Sit. ’Tis a long story.”
He told her, then, of all that had transpired, leaving out their activities in the hunting cottage, of course. He told her of what he thought he and Rachel had felt for one another, of the proposal her father made to him, and his decision to travel to London. She knew most of that, but when he told her of their marriage agreement she gasped, light coming into her eyes before seeing his expression. For once, she sat and listened, as Adam spoke more words than he likely ever had in one sitting before. Somehow, as much as he had tried to bury the whole situation, it felt good to say it all out loud, to put it out there and get it off his chest. Peggy, for her part, made for a rapt audience, tearing up when Adam told her of Rachel’s decision to do her father’s bidding and marry Thompson, gasping when he told of Trenton’s betrayal.
“So I came home,” he finished. “Where I never should have left.”
“Oh, Adam,” she said softly, her eyes full of tears of pity for him that he didn’t want. “I’m so sorry. What a despicable man.”
“He is,” he said, nodding in agreement.
“But are you absolutely certain of Rachel’s involvement?” she asked hesitantly.
“What do ye mean?” he said, not answering her question.
“It’s just that, when she was here, she was so sweet, and so wonderful, and I could tell how much she not only admired you, but seemed infatuated with you,” she said. “And not only that, but she told you about Vincent and her decision to follow her father’s wishes. Do you really think she would have given you that information if she knowingly betraying you?”
He shrugged. “When I returned to the house she was in his arms.”
“Did she say anything about that?”
“She tried. I wouldn’t let her — what is there to say when actions speak louder than words?” he asked, as he tried not to let Peggy’s own words sway him in any way.
“I just think, Adam, that perhaps ye should have given her the opportunity to explain herself. She may have known nothing of her father’s plans and was as shocked as you were. She was probably betrayed by the fact you would think she was capable of such.”
“Peggy, why are ye speaking to me of this if you are only to take her side?”
“I’m not taking anyone’s side,” she said. “I am simply pointing out that perhaps there is another option ye never considered.”
He nodded, not wanting to listen to her words, but they slowly penetrated his consciousness anyway.
“Adam… have you ever considered just why ye’re so angry at her?”
“What do you mean?” His head snapped up to her face, which was awash with sympathy for him.
“You wanted to marry this girl, and suddenly she told you she was going to marry another. No matter her reason, that must have hurt. Did ye perhaps so easily believe she had betrayed you in order to provide an outlet for your anger? When you love someone—”
“I dinna love her.”
“No?”
“No, I simply… cared for her.” He uncrossed his arms and began pacing back and forth over the worn wooden floor in front of her.
“I dinna believe you would have such deep emotions for someone you simply cared for,” she said softly.
He rubbed his temples. “I don’t know, Peg. I just… dinna ken what to do.”
“Well,” she said, fo
lding her hands in her lap. “What do you admire about her? What made you want to marry her?”
He sighed. “I admire her gentle spirit. She appreciates the beauty of life, be it a lovely dress, the crystal of our loch or rain falling from the sky on a cloudy day. She has not an opposed word to say about anyone, be it her father or even the fiancé I know she dreads. She sees the best in everyone. And she has a loyalty unlike any I’ve ever seen. While ’tis the reason we are apart, I also admire her for it.” He paused for a moment, reflecting on the words that had come unbidden from his mouth. “Damn it. I do love her.”
Peggy let out a stifled giggle, and he looked up at her to see what she found so humorous.
“Oh, Adam,” she said, and he could see the smile she tried to hide behind her hand. “Never have I seen a man so angry to discover his love for another.”
“What does it matter?” He shrugged. “’Tis not as if anything will come of it.”
“Adam,” she said, hopping off her stool and walking over to him. “Do you know, before she left back to London, she gave her beautiful fine dresses to the women of the village? Molly and some of the others had expressed such envy over her garments that she gave them all away. And when she was here, we had so much time together. She told me of her hopes and dreams. She wants love, Adam. She’s a romantic. She lives by her emotions, wanting to spend her life in the arms of a man who will love her in return. That vile man you say is now her fiancé — the man who shot her, Adam — he is not that man. You say she is loyal, but you must make her understand that there is more to life than that. Save her, Adam. Be her knight in shining armor. Sweep her off her feet, and throw her over your mighty steed, bringing her back to the castle where she belongs.”
“Oh Peggy,” he said, with his first laugh since his return to the Highlands. “You are the romantic, sister. But you’re right. You’re right!” His heart began to race. He would never admit it to his sister, but he had been a fool. While Rachel was loyal to a fault, she was too kind, had too gentle a spirit, to have ever conspired against him. She was too honest, and he had taken his anger out on her. If nothing else, he needed to apologize to her, to tell her how he truly felt. If she still decided to resign her life to that of a martyr, then so be it. But he had to do what he could.
“And maybe, if you return, you can get your wind design back?” Peggy asked hopefully, brightness coming into her eyes.
“Trenton can have the wind machine,” he said. “But his daughter… his daughter I will fight for. Even if it means I must remain with her in London, I— I’ll stay there with her.”
“But you hate, London!” said Peggy, a troubled look coming over her face. “And your family is here!”
“I do and ye are,” he agreed. “And of course, I would love nothing more than to return here to you, with Rachel by my side. But… but I dinna ken if I can live without her.”
“Then that,” said Peggy, smiling at him despite the tears in her eyes, “is true love. I’ll pack you a lunch.”
And with that, she marched over, enveloped him in a huge hug, and then walked out the door, leaving it open behind her.
24
The plant was never silent, but it certainly wasn’t as busy at midnight as it was during the daylight hours. Rachel tiptoed quietly along the floor in her leather-soled boots, following Sullivan Andrews through the back door and down the corridor, where he unlocked the door to her father’s office.
“My father allows you to have a key?” she whispered softly over his shoulder as he pushed open the door.
“No,” he responded. “I had one made when we first moved into the building. I felt it was prudent to have two copies of each key made in case of an emergency. I suppose this situation can be considered as such.”
Her eyes widened as she took in the man she had known for so many years. He had always been her father’s opposite, and while she knew the two of them had never really gotten on as friends, they worked together well, each filling the role required for them. For Sullivan to do this for her, behind her father’s back, well… she would be forever grateful.
They entered the office, Sullivan lighting a candle so as to not shed too much light over the room, and they made their way toward the desk. Sullivan sat behind it, picking up the pile of papers and beginning to sort through them.
“What are those?” she asked softly.
“Your father had me complete another set of the plans for the invention, as your Adam destroyed the papers he found,” said Sullivan in a low tone. “I saw him once again filling out the patent papers. Ah! Here they are. He had them prepared for mailing, though he required one additional piece of information. I don’t believe he will again look at the documents themselves.”
He slid the papers out of the envelope, laying them flat on the desk before him.
He took a pen from the side of the desk, dipping it in the inkwell before taking it to the page. Rachel watched as he found the line with the names of those requesting patent, and he added to the names of Hardwick Trenton and Sullivan Andrews, Adam McDougall. He reviewed the rest of the paper and the proposed design, adding in a line here or there to note Adam’s contribution to the work. Rachel’s heart swelled with gratitude for the man.
“There we are,” he said as he allowed the ink to dry. “It will now be as was originally intended. Your Mr. McDougall will receive the same recognition and the same pay for any design fashioned out of the original idea.”
He folded the papers once more and returned them to the envelope. “Your father should not note any differences come the morrow.”
As he rose from the desk, Rachel put her arms around him. “Thank you, Sullivan. I really, truly appreciate it.”
“’Tis only what is fair, Rachel,” he said, awkwardly patting her back. “Now, let us see about finding the copies your father made and adjusting them as well, hmmm?”
He found the papers in the cabinet, quickly scratching in the changes but, rather than returning them to the shelf, he folded them and placed them in his pocket. “Trenton hardly looks in the cabinet, and even if he did, what would he say?” he said. “I do not very well believe he would accuse me of taking them, for what motive would I have? Come, child, we must go before anyone happens to see us.”
He ushered her out the door, and Rachel, despite feeling utterly useless, was glad she had insisted on accompanying Sullivan. Not only would he not be solely complicit were he to be found out, but she felt a true sense of accomplishment at having outwitted her father. They settled back in the hack that had waited for them, and Sullivan looked at her questioningly.
“What are you going to do now, Rachel?” he asked, concern in his voice. “I do understand your wish to be true to your father’s desires for you and yet… I cannot help but not want to see you spend the rest of your life unhappy. You have a loving heart, Rachel, and I do not want to see it squandered on someone who cares only for himself.”
Rachel nodded slowly, agreeing with his words.
“The more I learn of my father’s treachery,” she said, “The more I have realized that he has simply been using me as a pawn. I am still grateful for what he has done for me and yet… I do realize that he has done no more than a parent should. However, when I think of the children I hope to have one day, I realize that I would never want for them a life of unhappiness. I would want for them a life of love, laughter, a better one than I had. No, Sullivan,” she said, with resolve, “I will not marry Vincent. Adam may no longer have me, but at the very least, I must let him know that he still has his design, that he will still benefit from it, as will the people he cares for.”
Sullivan smiled at her. “That’s a girl,” he said. “I’m proud of you. I believe McDougall may surprise you. Despite his serious countenance, he’s a good sort, and I can tell you, Rachel girl, that man loves you. All of our days together here, he may have been focused on his designs, but you were always on his mind. You could see it in the way his eyes sometimes were looking off into the
distance, the way his head turned so suddenly whenever your name was mentioned, how he looked with such distaste upon Thompson.” He shrugged. “Although I suppose most people look upon Thompson with distaste. Go to Adam, tell him how you feel. Take the copy of the documents with you. Adam can keep them, to have as proof of his role in the project.”
“Thank you, Sullivan,” she said as the carriage came to a halt. “I appreciate ever so much all that you have done for me.”
“Do not thank me!” he said. “I have no wish to be involved in a scheme that steals from others, though I am looking forward to the success we can all find together. Now, just be sure to invite me to the wedding, all right, young lady?”
Rachel refused to raise her hopes at his words, as much as they caused a fluttering in her stomach that was difficult to ignore.
“All right, Sullivan,” she said. “If it comes to that, I will.”
Returning home, she dragged her valise out of the closet. If she could leave before her father arose, she would not have to face him with the knowledge of what she had taken from him. As much as she knew she was in the right, it was still difficult to go against the loyalty she had always shown to him and was so used to. It was just past two in the morning so she had some time, and she looked through her dresses to determine what to take with her. She didn’t have many appropriate garments for the trip, but now she knew better what was required for the Highlands, and she found a few skirts and blouses that were more practical, though she couldn’t help but take some of her favorite, prettiest dresses.
Her two pairs of boots, her brush, and comb. As for the bonnets, she laughed as she found the bonnet Adam had so hated. She would definitely be taking it with her. She had always been very careful to keep her face covered from the sun, for her freckles were liable to show the moment a sun’s ray hit her face. And yet Adam seemed to enjoy her freckles, so did it really matter? She packed a couple more anyway then surveyed her room. Yes, there were beautiful things here. Things she would miss if she would not return. She felt a slight panic rise in her stomach as she thought what she would do if Adam were to not return her sentiments. Would her father take her back? Would she have to marry Vincent? Or could she forge her own path?
Adam's Call (The Victorian Highlanders Book 3) Page 15