by Monica Burns
As she entered the room, Louisa saw that the dowager had selected a regal, almost throne-like chair to sit in. Louisa met the woman’s gaze from across the room, and moved forward until there were only a few feet between them.
“My sister tells me you’ve planned a Christmas celebration here in the keep.”
“A small one. Lord Argaty gave me permission to have a tree, and I’ve asked Mrs. Selkirk if she could make a few special treats for the day.”
“I forbid any such activities to take place in Argaty Keep. We do not celebrate Christmas in this household.”
“I don’t understand, my lady. The earl gave me—”
“I said there will be no celebration.”
The woman’s emphatic statement rang out in the room like a crash of thunder. An even colder expression than she normally wore settled on the dowager’s features. It made her face look old and pinched. Louisa stared at the woman for a long moment in silence. Although the dowager’s face revealed nothing, Louisa was certain her lack of a response was unsettling for the woman.
“If that will be all, my—”
“I have not dismissed you,” the dowager snapped.
The sharp words made Louisa grit her teeth as she fought desperately not to lose her temper. Doing so could jeopardize her position. She had no idea how much sway the woman had over her son, and it would be foolish to test this particular boundary. Especially if he insisted on kissing her every time she crossed any line in the sand he might draw. Louisa quickly shoved the thought of his kiss out of her head.
“Forgive me, Lady Argaty, but your son employed me to act as Ross’s governess, and I must defer to his instructions.”
“I suggest you remember your place, Mrs. Morehouse.”
The stress the woman put on her last name only increased Louisa’s irritation. The dowager wasn’t simply unpleasant, she was offensive in her treatment of everyone around her. An image of Ewan as a child made her wince. His life had most likely been as miserable as Ross’s had been, if not more so.
An image fluttered through her head, and she recognized the onset of the an dara sealladh. Intuition warned her not to let the dowager countess know she had the gift of sight, and Louisa swallowed hard.
“Forgive me, my lady, but I am suddenly feeling ill.”
Lady Argaty sputtered incoherently for a brief moment before regaining her voice to speak harshly. The woman’s voice was little more than a buzzing in her ear as Louisa bolted from the room. In the main hall, she struggled to remain standing. A tall, shadowy figure appeared in front of her as the an dara sealladh swept across her senses, Her hand outstretched, she whispered her brother’s name as the real world receded.
The oppressive darkness surrounding her gave her the sensation of someone pressing her down to the floor. A baby's cries filled the air behind her, and she turned toward the sound. In front of her, the darkness parted slightly to reveal a much younger dowager countess holding a baby in her arms. Horror lined the woman's face as she stared down at the child in her arms.
Wallis suddenly appeared at her sister’s side and gently pulled the baby from the dowager’s arms. With a violent sweep of her hand, the woman struck her sister in the face. The blow caused Wallis to stumble backward before she regained her footing.
The dowager’s expression was one of virulent hatred as she fixed her icy gaze on her sister. Even though Louisa couldn’t hear Lady Argaty’s words, whatever she'd said the stricken look on Wallis's face was painful to see. Cold satisfaction darkened the dowager’s face as she watched her sister stumble away into the dark.
A second later, Louisa heard a woman shriek behind her. Fear latched onto her as she whirled around. The bloodcurdling screech paralyzed her as it grew in pitch then was abruptly cut off. The moment the woman's cry ended, a horrible, gleeful laugh filled the air. A chill slid through her. He’d killed her. The child had killed the woman. She didn’t know how or when, but Louisa knew it with so much certainty it made her ill to think of it.
Angry muted voices echoed above her as the real world began to seep its way back into her senses. Sharp as glass, Lady Argaty’s voice sliced through the air as if from a great distance. The woman’s words hovered on the edge of her senses, but the quiet, yet forceful, sound of Ewan’s voice made her feel safe. As the an dara sealladh slowly released her from its grip, it was as if someone had opened a door that allowed her to hear the argument between mother and son.
“Why didn’t you tell me the woman had the sight?”
“I saw no reason to.” Although his voice was steady and calm, the strength of Ewan’s burr indicated he was angry. “What are you afraid of Mother?"
“I have nothing to fear. I simply don’t like the way this woman has disrupted my household.” Lady Argaty’s words vibrated with contempt, but there was an apprehension beneath the woman’s denial that puzzled Louisa.
“Your household?” Despite Ewan’s quiet question, Louisa heard the icy note of fury in his voice. “You forget your place, Mother. I’m the Earl of Argaty, and this is my household.”
“An earl who buries himself in seclusion leaving me and Wallis to maintain order in the house.”
“You don’t have a single drop of domestic or maternal instinct in you, Mother. The only thing you’ve ever possessed was a tongue as vicious as a viper.”
Louisa’s eyes fluttered open, and she realized she was lying on her bed. Mrs. Selkirk’s matter-of-fact voice beside the bed made her turn her head toward the housekeeper.
“Well, now, ye decided to come back tae the mortal world, have ye.” The woman’s weathered face was softened by her cheerful smile as she patted Louisa’s arm. The solid warmth of Ewan filled her senses as he bent over her.
“How do you feel?” The note of concern running beneath the words startled her, but she brushed the sensation aside.
“Other than feeling a bit woozy, I’m fine,” she murmured. Her gaze met his blue-gray one, and the relief she saw sweep across his battle-scarred face warmed her heart. “How did I find my way to my room? I don’t remember climbing the stairs.”
“My son had no choice but to carry you up here, Mrs. Morehouse, after the stir you caused downstairs.” At Lady Argaty’s scathing criticism, Louisa winced with embarrassment, and Ewan jerked upright to face his mother.
“Leave.”
The single word was a command even Louisa would have found difficult to disobey. The black eyepatch over Ewan’s missing eye combined with the dark anger hardening his features gave him a menacing look, and the dowager countess stiffened. Although her expression remained cold and patronizing, fear flickered in the woman’s gaze. But Louisa didn’t know if she feared her son or something else.
With one last baleful glance in Louisa’s direction, the dowager countess stalked out of the room. A dark cloud of anger still visible on his face, Ewan cleared his throat. His mouth moved slightly as if he wanted to say something, but instead, he released a soft noise of angry frustration then looked at the housekeeper.
“I’ll leave Mrs. Morehouse in your care, Mrs. Selkirk.” He jerked his head in the Scotswoman’s direction then looked down at her. “I told the boys you were feeling a bit under the weather, and I’ve arranged for the three of them to have supper with me.”
Startled by his statement, Louisa stared at him in amazement. He grimaced in the face of her astonishment, but didn’t say anything else. Instead, he turned away and left the room. As she watched the door close behind him, Mrs. Selkirk clucked softly.
“There goes a mon plagued by a mother who has a heart as cold as a winter’s wind on the moor.”
“Has she always shown such antipathy for him? Her own son?”
“Aye, the woman is dead inside—has been for a verra long time,” the housekeeper said as anger darkened her kind features.
An image of Ewan as a young boy filled her head. She was certain he must have been just as desperate for love as Ross. The thought of it made her heart ache for him, especiall
y when she considered how happy her childhood had been even though she didn’t remember her parents.
“You’re very fond of him.”
“Aye, he always was a good lad with a smile or kind word for others.” The housekeeper shook her head with a sigh of sadness. “His time fighting in foreign lands changed him.”
“How long did he serve with the Black Watch?” At Louisa’s question, the housekeeper frowned in contemplation.
“Let me think, he joined the regiment shortly before he was married, and was called to duty only a week or so after his wedding.” Mrs. Selkirk shook her head in sympathy. “He came home shortly after Lady Argaty died in childbirth.”
“Is that when he came home with his injuries?”
“Och, no. He was only here for two days after the young countess’s death. Several of us overheard Lord Argaty and her ladyship arguing bitterly and hours later he was gone. I think he stayed away because of that woman,” Mrs. Selkirk said in a contemptuous voice. A moment later she sighed quietly, and a deep sadness lined her plump face. “The mon dinnae come home for seven years. And I think he would have remained in the Black Watch for much longer if he'd nae been injured so badly.”
“With the exception of a few minor difficulties, his injuries don’t seem to be an impediment for him.”
The memory of his firm fingers wrapped around her neck and tugging her toward him made Louisa's heart skip a beat. Warmth tingled her lips as she remembered the taste of him. Devin had never kissed her with such unrestrained passion. His kisses had always been gentle and tender.
Last night, Ewan’s caress had been a fiery heat against her lips. The firm, hard, pressure of his mouth against hers had aroused sensations she’d not experienced since before the fire at Westbrook. The desire he’d stirred in her had left her wanting something more than a kiss. She’d been left aching for the pleasure and intimacy of Ewan’s touch. The sound of Mrs. Selkirk’s voice saved her from contemplating just how much she wanted the man’s touch.
“Aye, he doesn’t let anything stop him from doing what he wants.” Mrs. Selkirk nodded with a motherly pride Louisa recognized as one she experienced frequently with her boys. The housekeeper’s expression dissolved into one of despair. “But it’s his spirit that dinnae come back with him. It pains me to see him the way he is now. There’s one thing her ladyship said tis true. The mon buries himself away from most of life’s little pleasures.”
“It takes time to heal from traumatic events,” Louisa murmured as she remembered her own struggle with grief and remorse. Mrs. Selkirk nodded her head in agreement then gasped in dismay.
“Och, bless me if I’m nae babbling on about things instead of getting you a hot cup of tea.” The housekeeper leaned over Louisa and patted her shoulder in a reassuring gesture before she hurried from the room.
Left alone with her thoughts, Louisa slowly sat up. A small wave of dizziness made her close her eyes, and she waited for the sensation to pass. She found herself wishing Constance or Percy was here to talk to. She knew the an dara sealladh had affected both of them physically. But she was certain her sister would understand better than Percy.
With the exception of Aunt Matilda, Constance had shared little with the family about the time she’d spent at the Lyndham family estate before she’d married Lucien. The most any of them really knew was that if not for Lucien, she and Jamie might have died. It had been her nephew, who’d described the aftereffects of his mother’s visons after Jamie had witnessed one of Percy’s migraines.
Louisa turned to look at the small secretaire near the window. For a brief moment, she contemplated writing her sister then thought better of it. Constance would want to know more about Louisa’s vision, and the moment she told her sister what she’d seen, Constance would tell Sebastian. At which point, Sebastian and the entire family would be demanding she be dragged out of Argaty Keep.
She couldn’t take that chance. Ross needed her. In the back of her head, she remembered Caleb’s words. He needs you. Instantly, an image of Ewan’s scarred features filled her head. What if it had been Ewan, not Ross, her brother had been referring to all along. Louisa sucked in a sharp breath before she pushed the thought back in the furthest recesses of her mind. She was here because Ross needed her, nothing more. The sound of her brother’s laughter whispered through her head, but she ignored the sound.
§ § §
Louisa pulled on her gloves as she walked out of the keep into the stable yard. The day was bright with sunshine, although the air was crisp against her face. The boys were dancing around with excitement as Finn emerged from the stable with an axe for cutting down a tree. The stable hand placed the axe in back of the small wagon then turned toward the boys.
“Come on, laddies, up you go.”
As Finn helped the boys into the wagon, the clatter of hooves against the stable floor made Louisa turn her head. The sight of Ewan leading Lachlan and Morag out of the barn made her eyes widen in surprise.
“I seem to recall you inviting me to accompany you and the boys today.” His eyebrow arched in an arrogant fashion as he fixed his gaze on her.
“Yes…I mean…of course, I’m sure Ross will like that very much.”
“We’ll need room in the wagon for the tree, so I thought you and I would ride.”
Speechless at his decision to join the party, Louisa nodded her agreement, and she saw his mouth twitch slightly. Certain he was laughing at her befuddled state she narrowed her gaze at him. Although his expression was solemn she saw his lips twitch again.
“You seem amused by something, my lord.”
“Aye.” He chuckled softly as he gestured toward Morag. “Shall we?”
It was obvious he had no intention of sharing what he found so amusing as he quickly tested the mare’s cinch then formed a small stirrup with his good hand. Lifting the short side of her riding habit, she placed her foot in the palm of his hand then grabbed the saddle’s pommel and hopped upward.
For not the first time, it was impossible not to be impressed with how Ewan leveraged his good arm in unison with his entire body to assist her into the saddle. It explained how he’d managed to carry her from the main hall to her bedroom the other day. Lifting her skirts higher, she wrapped her right leg over the top pommel and braced her left leg beneath the leaping head pommel.
Ewan’s hand guided her boot into the stirrup then reached up to assist her in pulling her skirts down over her riding breeches. The light touch of his hand brushing over her calf caused her to draw in a quick breath as heat seeped through her breeches.
Although she knew the contact was completely innocent, her body responded in the same way it had when he’d kissed her. He lifted his head at the sound, and her cheeks burned as he narrowed his gaze at her. In an effort to ease the warmth suffusing her body, she averted her gaze and busied herself adjusting her habit.
Ewan made a soft noise she couldn’t describe before he turned away and mounted Lachlan. The stallion pranced in place as Ewan settled himself in the saddle. He walked his horse over to the wagon and issued a quiet order to Finn who nodded his understanding. With a light slap of the reins, Finn drove the wagon out of the stable yard.
With a gentle nudge into Morag’s side, Louisa urged the horse to follow, and Ewan made Lachlan fall into step alongside her. Excited chatter floated back to fill the silence between them, and Louisa smiled as Ross spoke up in vigorous disagreement with Charlie. For not the first time, she marveled at the change in him. Almost as if he could read her mind, Ewan cleared his throat.
“Ross is thriving under your care.” The quiet compliment made Louisa jerk her head in his direction. His gaze met hers as he arched his eyebrow. “You’re surprised by the compliment?
“I…yes,” she murmured.
“A forthright, honest answer.”
“Would you prefer I’d lied?” she asked with a laugh.
“I don’t think you’re capable of lying,” he said as a wry smile twisted his sensual lips. “A
t least not successfully. Your face would give you away.”
“Guilty as charged. My family knows not to tell me any secrets because when I deny knowing anything, my face says otherwise.”
“Then you have no secrets to share?”
Ewan’s voice was filled with amusement, but her heart skipped a beat at the possibility her features would betray her to him. Admitting she had secrets didn’t mean revealing what they were. She smiled at him and shook her head.
“Everyone has secrets.” At her reply an odd expression flitted across his face before he grinned at her. It was a look of wicked amusement, and her heart skipped a beat once again, only this time it wasn’t in apprehension.
“Agreed, but there are many ways to extract a confession.”
“That sounds as though it could be quite painful.” Laughing she shook her head at him.
“I can think of several ways to learn all your secrets…some of them quite pleasurable.”
Ewan’s battle-scarred features tightened with an emotion that made her draw in a sharp breath. His expression created a tactile sensation on her skin as she remembered their kiss in his study. Fire burned her cheeks as her gaze locked with his, and a small tremor slipped through her.
His blue-gray eye had darkened, and she knew he was remembering the blazing heat of their kiss too. Her mouth went dry as she suddenly realized she wanted him to kiss her again. The dangerously wicked thought made her jerk her head to look out at the landscape in front of them.
“I think I’ll let Morag stretch her legs across the moor,” she said breathlessly in an attempt to control the emotions spiraling through her. “It will take a little while for the wagon to reach the forest.”
“Perhaps another race?”
If sin were a voice, it would sound like his. It held an invitation she wanted to accept. She trembled as she met his gaze. What would he demand as his prize? The intensity of his gaze told her exactly what it would be, and the fact that she wanted him to kiss her again stole the breath from her lungs. With a shake of her head, she kept her eyes focused on the sun-bathed moors in front of her.