by Annis, Dawn
~ ~ ~
Thea and Lettie ogled the note on the floor for a moment. Curious, Thea watched as Lettie rose from her chair, stepped over to the ball of paper, and picked it up.
Lettie approached the subject first. “Should we read it?”
“It must be a letter. A list o’ stock and provisions wouldna cause such a stir,” Thea reasoned. “However, it seemed verra personal.” What could possibly create such a reaction in Callum?
“Aye, it did.” Lettie played with the ball in her hands, rolling it from one hand to the other.
“Is that parfum I smell?” Thea inched closer.
“’Tis.”
Well, that put a different light on it. Thea was not sure what to do with the information. Bugger. Wasna a stock list.
“Let us open the damn thing,” Thea said, curiosity getting the better of her.
“Thea, guard yer words,” Lettie admonished. “But I agree.”
With deliberate movement, Lettie unraveled the ball of paper. Thea ran her hand through her hair, then folded her hands in her lap. She scowled. Her frown snapped back to Lettie.
Lettie smoothed the paper on her skirts. “D’ye want to read it, or shall I?”
Thea put a hand to her sinking stomach. “Ye do it.”
Lettie mouthed the words as she read. Finished, she set it down. “I ken ye are attached to my brother in some way. How serious has it become?”
With an empty feeling in the pit of her stomach, Thea stared at Lettie in alarm and snatched the letter from her lap. As Thea read, her eyes welled up with tears. With her throat bobbing, she lowered her head and handed the letter back to Lettie, who balled it up once again and threw it into the fire, this time hitting its mark.
“Has my brother made ye false promises?” Lettie frowned, her eyes direct.
“Nay, he has no asked me to wed.” Anxious to leave, Thea placed a hand against her breastbone in an attempt to press the pain and humiliation from her body.
Lettie put one of her embroidered hankies in Thea’s hand.
“Lettie, do no think poorly o’ Callum. Any feelin’ I have was my doin’ alone.” Wringing the hanky, her hands tightly wound in the cloth. “’Tis me to blame, no Callum.”
“Well, it mayhap be yer doin’, but I havena doubt he had a hand in it.” Lettie stood and put her hands on her hips. She paced the floor. “The question is what is to be done about Victoria?”
Thea stood as well. “There is nothin’ to be done about Victoria. She is in England though her heart is here. I must go.”
Lettie turned to her friend. “Nay, I canna let ye go with such news just received. I ken this has been a shock.”
“Aye, ’tis.” Thea’s shock turned to a slow boil of anger. She didn’t want Lettie to see how furious she was with Callum. He was her brother, and she did not want Lettie to know what had gone on between Callum and herself. “I will see ye tomorrow.”
“Promise?”
“Aye. Thank ye.” Thea waved as she hurried out of the hall, unable to get out of Dunvegan Castle fast enough.
She clamored atop Destiny and sawed at his reins to leave the stable. Setting him to a gallop, she left the castle as fast as the horse could take her, and once a good distance away, she slipped from his back.
“’Tis sorry I am for my rough treatment o’ ye.”
She stroked Destiny’s nose, and he nuzzled her shoulder. Thea leaned into the horse. Why had she been so trusting? She could only stock it up to the terrible situation they had experienced. Callum had come after her. He’d saved her. Of course, she would worship him. Given anything to him, and she had.
Sod off, Callum MacLeod. Ye are daft if ye think I canna live without ye.
Tears ran down her face.
Thea patted Destiny, took up his reins, wiped her eyes, and stomped toward home, leading her horse. She wouldn’t go to Ship Rock. Too many memories would haunt her there, and she didn’t want to risk seeing Callum. Angry and hurt, she didn’t care for an explanation from him. Her breath began to hitch, and she fell to the ground, curling her arms around her knees.
Why would he cast me aside? He told me he loved me. Was it to get under my skirts? Well, it worked, ye fool. Who d’ye blame? The fox for gettin’ into the hens if ye leaves the coup open? Bastard.
Obviously, he’d told Victoria he loved her. Was she the reason he’d stayed in England so many years? Her or others? There had been rumors of women. Was she one more conquest to him?
Thea balled her hands into fists and pounded her thighs. Och, Lord, my heart is sore. How could I have been so stupid?
Crouched to the ground, she held her aching chest. She sat there as the sun traveled its voyage west. Soon the sobs gave over to weeping. Loneliness overwhelmed her. Thea wiped her hands across her face while Destiny played with her hair with his lips as if to remind her it was time to go home. Home. She was a mess. How would she get through the hall without causing alarm? Alarm which would lead to questions, more questions she had no answers for. There was no help for it. She must go home.
She arrived as the day turned to dusk and waved to the sentry atop the tower. Leading Destiny into the stables, she bumped into Michael leading his horse out.
“There ye are. I was comin’ out to search for ye. Where have ye been? No one has seen ye all day.”
He leaned close to his sister. “Ye have been weepin’. What troubles ye?”
Thea shuffled her feet and watched them as they made patterns in the dirt. Michael lifted her chin. Great drops of tears spilled onto his hand. “Thea.” He kissed her cheek.
Thea threw herself at Michael with such force he stumbled back. He caught her in his arms and held her until her despondent sobs turned into soft mewing. She hiccupped and mopped the tears from her face with his proffered handkerchief. Her heart ached with betrayal and loss. Michael led her into the barn. The lowering sun created shadows under and around the wooden beams. Thea felt a shadow had enveloped her; the sun would never find her.
“Tell me and start from the beginnin’.” Michael helped Thea sit in a pile of fresh straw. He brushed away a strand of hair and tucked it behind her ear.
“Ye ken the beginnin’. It started with John Fendrel.”
“Nay, no that beginnin’.” Michael kissed her forehead. “Yers.”
She played with the handkerchief, her head bowed.
“I have loved Callum since I was a wee lass,” she said so softly Michael tilted his head closer.
~ ~ ~
Callum returned to the hall with long strides. He would tell Thea about Victoria, about the letters, about his life in England, ashamed as he was about it. He only hoped her love for him could withstand such an assault.
Lettie sat in the hall alone. She was turned toward the fire, staring into the flames.
“Where is Thea?”
“Brother, she has gone home. To be with her family, who love her and cherish her.”
Callum sputtered. “I love her.”
“Callum, ye have a wee brain and are playin’ Thea false.”
“Nay, I am no.”
“She saw the letter.”
“The letter?”
Lettie threw down her sewing. “The letter, ye fool. Did ye think ye could hide yer other women from Thea?”
“She is no my other woman. She is a woman who despite my best efforts will no let go.”
“Hmm. And what might those efforts be? To ignore her? Ye ken nothin’ o’ women.”
Callum bristled. “I suppose yer some great expert on women?”
“Are ye daft? I. Am. One.”
She was right. The sister who stood before him was no longer his wee sister but a grown woman. A stunning, mad as a wet hen, woman.
He slumped on the bench w
ith his head in his hands. “What do I do?”
“First, ye write to this Victoria,” Lettie said, derisively. “When ye write, dinna say yer sorry and ye wish it could be another way. Dinna think lettin’ her down with a care for her heart is goin’ to make it better. Ye end it.” Lettie cut across the space between her and Callum with her hand. “Final.
“When ye have yer letter in yer fool hand, ye ride to Struan. Ye have it posted and travelin’ on the first ship to England.”
“Aye.” Rubbing his fingers through his hair, Callum rose and walked to the small desk in the corner of the room. He sat down and began to write.
“It dinna have to be a long letter, Callum. The shorter the better.”
“Aye,” Callum agreed without taking his eyes from his task. When he finished, he called for his horse, arranged his tartan over his shoulders, and met his sister’s gaze.
“What do I do once I have finished?”
“Ride to the MacNichol seat. Ye get on yer knees and beg her forgiveness.”
Giving his sister a curt nod, he mounted his horse and raced into the mist.
After the deed had been done, Callum reined his mount in the dooryard of Scorrybreac Manor and dismounted.
Michael stepped from the barn, his face impassive.
A groomsman scurried over to take the horse. Michael gave a nonchalant wave of his hand to stop him as Callum started to give him the reins.
“Ye will no be stayin’ long, MacLeod.”
“Michael,” Callum said, his tone soft. “I speak to ye as a friend no a laird. Thea is important to me. I would never hurt her.”
“Aye. If I spoke to ye as a friend instead o’ a laird, I would have killed ye the moment ye came within spittin’ distance o’ the lass. Why ye would treat Thea in such a manner is beyond me. My sister tells me ye have a woman waitin’ for ye in England. Why would ye need to play false to another lass?”
“I dinna play false. I care for Thea dearly. I broke it off with the lady.” Of course, he hadn’t broken it off. Yet. The letter had been sent.
He had been a coward. He’d had every intention of breaking it off with Lady Monforte long ago, but he had not had a moment’s peace to write the letter since he’d decided to stay.
Bah, what a load o’ bullshite.
“If true, why are ye still receivin’ letters from her?” Thea stepped from the barn, her eyes puffy but dry. “She must no think ’tis over. What have ye done to convince her ’twas? Apparently, nothin’. Nothin’ at all.”
“Thea.” Callum held his hands out in supplication. “Please.”
“I am sorry Callum. ’Tis too much to bear.” Thea turned and disappeared into the barn.
Her cries of a broken heart tore at him. Ballocks.
Chapter 16
Thea hurried Destiny to the MacLeod seat on a rare sunny morning. She hadn’t seen Callum since her brother Michael had told him to leave a fortnight ago. Although she was taking the risk of seeing him, she’d come to visit Fiona and Lettie. She had hesitated, but she would not give up the two important women in her life because he was an arse.
The sun was already high. Hurt but set on keeping her promise to herself, she schooled her features as she slid off the horse’s back. Throwing her reins to a lad, she approached the manor and slipped through the doors to the hall.
The regal woman sitting in a chair by the fire raised her head when Thea entered. The woman examined her up and down with a sniff. Thea, feeling naked under the woman’s gaze, caught Fiona’s eye, and Fiona motioned her forward. Dusting off her skirt and smoothing her unruly hair, Thea stepped toward the women.
“M’lady, ’tis Thea MacNichol. Her clan is sept to the MacLeod. Her family lives west o’ us.”
Thea curtsied slightly. Faced with the fine lady, Thea suddenly became aware of how her eyes were too close together and the strange way her nose began to run when she was nervous. Unfamiliar insecurity rushed through her.
“Thea, may I present Lady Victoria Monforte.”
Lady Monforte glanced slightly in Thea’s general direction.
Thea tasted bile in the back of her throat. Victoria. Her knees buckled, and she sat with a thump beside Fiona.
“Where is Callum? I am not sure why I have been kept waiting.” Lady Monforte fanned her fingers and examined her manicured nails.
“I have sent a lad to fetch him, m’lady. He should be here directly,” Fiona said, adjusting her collar.
“What brings ye to Scotland, m’lady? ’Tis a far way to travel.” Thea smiled, hoping her face didn’t wobble under the guise of politeness. She fumbled in her pocket for a handkerchief.
“I have come to see Callum, else I would never have made the trip. Now that I am here, I look forward to leaving,” Lady Monforte huffed.
In the uncomfortable silence, Thea fiddled with her hands in her lap. Where was Lettie? Thea started to rise, but Fiona caught her eye. Fiona lowered her chin the slightest bit. Thea remained seated. She wouldn’t leave Fiona.
~ ~ ~
Callum strode into the hall with a lad hot on his heels. Turning, he caught sight of his mother, Thea, and Victoria. He gritted his teeth to keep surprise from his face when he saw Victoria. He focused on her. She would use any advantage she could.
He ruffled the lad’s hair. “’Tis a fine lad ye are to bring me the message.” Callum faced the ladies.
“Darling, I was sure I would expire before I saw your handsome face,” Victoria purred. She extended her hand and showed her white even teeth. Teeth that would bite at the slightest provocation. Her smile did not reach her eyes.
Callum stepped over to his mother and bussed her cheek. Giving Thea a sidelong glance, he rubbed the back of his neck. “Thea.” He walked over to Victoria and brushed his lips across her fingers.
“What are ye doin’ here, Victoria?” Callum asked casually. He hoped the question wouldn’t ignite one of her famous tirades.
Victoria’s lower lip pushed out in a pout. “Oh, my love, are you not glad to see me? I wanted to surprise you.”
“And surprise me ye did.” Callum rolled his shoulders, uncomfortable.
He remained standing, no closer to Victoria than to Thea.
Fiona cleared her throat and stood. “I will get us a wee bit to drink and eat. Will ye help me, Thea?”
Small relief eased Callum shoulders. Best if Thea wasn’t in the room while he dealt with the frustrating woman. His past had landed her in his lap, and the heat of embarrassment wrapped around him. Embarrassment for his mother and her feelings about entertaining such a guest, embarrassment and concern for Thea and what she might be thinking.
After Thea left the room, Callum took her vacated chair. He inhaled a deep breath, filling his lungs, and let it out slowly. “I will no ask ye agin, Victoria, what are ye doin’ here?”
“I have grown tired of Thomas. I desire to finally make our life together. Just as we have planned. It does not make sense for you to come back to England. Thomas will be furious, of course, so I have come to you. Though why you would want to live in such a desolate place is beyond me. But we do not have to stay. There are many places we can go beyond Thomas’s reach,” she simpered.
“We havena such plans, Victoria.” Callum’s voice lacked any emotion.
He didn’t want the life he’d left. He didn’t want emptiness. He didn’t want her.
The life he found here, the responsibilities, the rewards were what agreed with him. How had he gone the whole of his life without feeling this vital? Here, he meant something to the people and to himself. Life was clear to him.
Victoria moved forward and sat on the carpet at his feet, arranging her embroidered skirt to reveal her ankles. She lay her head on his knee.
“Do not be cross with me, Callum.”
Callum stood, tugged Victoria to her feet, and set her in a chair, her silk dress slick in his hands.
Thea stalked in with a tray as Callum leaned over Victoria. She set the tray on the table with a bang. With her hand on the pot, Thea’s eyes met his. She raised a brow.
“Two lumps of sugar, no milk,” Victoria ordered. Her eyes widened. “You do have sugar in this godforsaken place,” she sneered as she looked around the stone hall.
Thea mumbled what the bitch o’ a lady could do with her two lumps o’ sugar. She poured the tea and handed a napkin to Victoria. She stuck her chin in the air and ignored Callum as she set the teapot down with a thump.
Callum didn’t blame her; he blamed himself. Leaving Victoria without a clear ending to their affair and slinking out of England had been a mistake. Now it was here to haunt him. He should have answered the first letter and been done with it.
Callum was anxious to get Thea alone and explain. Though how could he explain his dalliance? There was no explanation for Lady Victoria, wife to Thomas Bromley, the Earl of Monforte.
Thea excused herself. She stalked out of the hall, her back straight and rigid.
~ ~ ~
Thea hurried from the hall to the kitchen, her heart beating sorrow, threatening to overwhelm her. She collapsed in Fiona’s arms as she rounded the corner. Fiona put Thea’s head on her shoulder and held her. Thea didn’t know why she cared if Victoria had come to Dunvegan. Letting go didn’t come easy though. The head said one thing, the heart another.
“’Tis sorry I am, Thea. I dinna ken we would have guests, much less her, or I would have sent ye a note no to come. There is no use for tears, lass. I have seen the longin’ in his eye when he looks at yerself. He has a past. A man dinna get to be his age without one.”
“What if he prefers his past?” Thea did not reveal Callum’s questions and self-doubt about becoming laird. He’d said his choice had been made. Perhaps the arrival of Lady Monforte would change his mind, and Callum would return to a life he preferred without a second thought for her.