Lost Bride Chapter 17

FIFTEEN

THE PRICE OF LOSING

The first order of business was to build a shed for the cow. Rory correctly guessed that the women—and the men, truth be told—might prefer a different arrangement. The men gathered stones and constructed back and side walls at the end of the croft, while the women gathered heather to make a thatched roof.

On one of their many stone-gathering expeditions, Rory found a moment alone with his father. “What happened?”

“There’s not much to tell. Your brother gambled and lost.”

There was no proper way to ask his next question without risking offense. “How was the estate in his possession to lose?”

They walked for several more steps in silence before Captain Munro answered him. “I made an error in judgment.” He glanced at Rory and continued. “When you left, Angus took over running the estate, as you had been so ably doing. He’d dabbled in it before, but I didnae ken whether he knew how to manage an estate of that size. I wanted to train him, to prepare him to take over when I was gone, as I had with you.”

That, as Rory recalled, had happened by default when the captain had given up on Angus and turned to Rory out of necessity.

“I watched him manage the day-to-day affairs of the estate, advising when needed,” the captain said. “He’d always had an aptitude for figures. He was too charming by half in his dealing with people. I suppose that stood him well in his gambling too. Something changed. Whether it was your getting shot and then leaving or his, well, indiscretion with Effie, he seemed to be taking life more seriously. He stopped playing cards, and I started to believe in him again. I knew if he’d only set his mind to something, he could excel. And he did.

“Maybe what he’d needed all along was responsibility. Now he had it. Except for a family. Family changes a man. It makes him live for someone beyond himself or his own needs. If Angus were married, he’d want to be strong and honorable for the sake of his wife and his children.” The captain looked Rory in the eye. “Maybe it would keep him out of trouble.”

What could Rory have said? He agreed because that was the sympathetic thing to do, but the notion was mad from its inception. Angus had stopped gambling because that was what he did periodically. But he would always go back. It was a pattern that had gone on for years, but the captain was too blinded by love for his firstborn to see it.

The two unloaded the barrow of rocks by the croft. Angus continued building the stone wall, while Rory and his father headed back to the fields for more.

The captain continued. “So I set about finding Angus a wife. Of course, Effie was unsuitable, but I thought I could find someone willing. After all, he stood to inherit Kildermoor, an impressive estate by any man’s measure. But I’d underestimated Angus’s reputation. The fact that he’d attempted to deflower, and I suspect succeeded in a number of cases, enough eligible ladies—when word got around, the fathers of those left were unwilling to chance it. Not that his philandering alone would have been a deterrent, but with it came the high-stakes gaming. They wouldn’t send their daughters to a life that might land them, well, here.”

Rory frowned and stared into the distance. “So you deeded everything to him…”

“To make him worth taking a risk. With his wealth and estate, who could resist?”

Apparently not Angus.

Rory didn’t need to hear any more. As soon as the ink was dry on his father’s signature, Angus couldn’t pass up the chance to go out and enjoy his good fortune. Rory supposed it didn’t matter whom his brother had lost to. Word must have gotten out that Angus had serious funds to play with. He’d been a mark visible from miles around. It had only been a matter of time, which in Angus’s case, turned out to be days.

While the men built the stone wall, Effie taught the women to make rope from heather they’d gathered from the moor. Lucy and her mother collected it in their gathered-up skirts, while Effie carried the bulk in a basket slung over her shoulders. By the end of a week, the men had added a roof roughly framed from cut branches and covered in thatch held together by the heather rope the women had made. When they’d finished, they led the cow inside its new home and admired their work as the last of the sun lit the tops of the mountains.

Lucy shivered. Rory drew closer and wrapped part of his plaid around her. As he did, he leaned over and whispered, “We’ve not had a moment alone, and I miss you.”

Lucy didn’t reply. She just looked into his eyes and then looked away, smiling.

As they all went into the cottage, the captain said, “This calls for a celebration.” He opened his portmanteau and pulled out a bottle of whisky. “I took the liberty of pilfering this from the castle for a special occasion. I think we’re all thirsty enough to consider this occasion special enough.”

They all agreed and sat down to enjoy some rest and a wee dram or two.

Several drams later, Wendy, Effie, and the captain were staring into the fire and taking turns singing ballads. Rory touched Lucy’s arm and tilted his head toward the door. He got up and took Lucy’s hand, drawing her to her feet. The singers turned toward them, still singing.

“Just going out for some air.” Ignoring a teasing glance or two, Rory grabbed a blanket on the way outside.

With the door closed behind them, he wrapped the blanket around Lucy and pulled her into his arms and planted a long kiss. “I’ve been wanting to do that all day.”

The moon wasn’t quite full, but it cast enough light for Lucy to see Rory’s head angled down to gaze at her.

“Are you sure that you’ve done the right thing—coming back here with me?” Rory asked.

“Yes. I hesitated because I was worried about leaving my mother behind. As you know, every trip through that stone chamber could be the last, but she basically forced me.”

Rory crinkled his brow. “That doesn’t bode well for me.”

Lucy grinned and shook her head. “Do you know what she said?”

“That you put up a good fight?”

She laughed. “No. My mother said she did it because you’re the one.”

He suppressed a satisfied smile. “Was she right?”

“Yes,” Lucy said without hesitation.

“Then say it.” He took her face in his hands and brushed his lips against hers. “I love you so. Tell me you feel the same way.”

“Yes,” she said softly.

He pressed fervent lips to hers then whispered, “Say the words.”

“I love you.”

They kissed, and neither cared how cold the night air was.

Rory kissed her forehead and hair. “It’s selfish of me to want you here. You’ve given up so much, and I’ve nothing to offer.”

“You. That’s all I want.” Lucy looked into Rory’s eyes then sank back into his arms.

“But lass, there’s no TV here.”

Her eyes lit with amusement. “I’m not saying I haven’t made sacrifices, but you’re worth it.”

They laughed, and he lifted and swung her about. “Lucy Buchanan, you’re more wondrous than a TV remote or even a cell phone.”

“Rory, think what you’re saying.”

“You’re right, lass. The cold air has made me daft. We’d best go back inside.” But when she turned to leave, he pulled her back into his arms. He spoke in a low voice as he kissed his way down her neck. “Bonnie Lucy, you’re driving me daft. It’s all I can do to look at you and not lift you up into my arms and carry you off.” He pressed his body against her and kissed her again.

“And where would you carry me off to?” she whispered.

“Och, I dinnae think I could carry you past the bed.”

She wrinkled her face. “Thanks?”

“Oh, I could carry you farther, I just wouldnae want to.” He brushed his lips against hers. “Do you ken how I want you?”

“Yes,” she whispered as she tightened her arms about him and kissed him.

When they finally came in

from the cold, they found Wendy teaching the others a Joni Mitchell song. Despite all the pieces of Lucy’s life that didn’t quite fit together, that moment felt right. All her family and friends were together and singing. That was where they all belonged.

Except Angus. Angus sat quietly off to the side. He hadn’t been himself since they’d arrived. But from Lucy’s perspective, he’d earned every tormenting pang of guilt and remorse he suffered, so she’d left him to suffer alone. But now, as he sat there alone and aloof, she saw only a man who was broken. She could not believe he had ever set out to do anyone harm. He was a victim of his own character. He was a rake. He was selfish and thoughtless. Perhaps worst of all was what he’d done to Effie, whose only weakness had been her naïve trust. He had allowed her to care when he’d known that he didn’t. In doing so, he had broken something fragile, which although repaired, would not be the same.

Rory and Angus

stood on the banks of the river, determined to catch enough salmon for supper. The walk there had been quiet, which was typical for Angus these days.

“What happened, Angus?”

“I think the answer to that is painfully obvious.”

“Not to me. Why did you not stop?”

Angus clenched his jaw as he stared at the swiftly flowing river before him. “Do you not think I’ve asked myself that dozens—hundreds—of times? It all seems so simple unless you’re the one there.”

“But I wasn’t because I wouldn’t have been.”

Angus turned burning eyes to his brother. He could barely get out the words. “I couldnae stop.”

Rory watched his brother crumble into a heap of emotion that he’d never displayed. Angus wept. The most heartbreaking aspect of it was the hopeless effort he expended to try to conceal it. Rory gripped Angus’s shoulder.

When Angus had pulled himself together enough to speak, he said, “I ken well that you wouldnae understand. You’re the fine, noble Rory, upon whom everyone can rely.”

Rory winced but held his tongue.

Self-loathing darkened Angus’s expression. “Do you not think it’s hurt all these years to see how everyone discounts me? From earliest I can remember, I’ve always been the one getting into mischief. I didn’t set out to do it. It just happened. People came to expect it, and I did not disappoint. But I failed with such charm that the only one truly disappointed was I. Even then, what did it matter, really? I was the heir.”

Rory spoke quietly. “But you left me to pick up the pieces. Every mess you ever made, I cleaned up.”

Angus turned to Rory in disbelief. “Because that’s what you do. Every time.”

Rory grimaced, wanted to protest, yet he could not deny it was true.

Angus looked at Rory with the peace of one long since resigned to his fate. “You cannae stop making everything right any more than I can stop making it wrong.”

Rory stared as the water rushed by and the salmon leaped into the air, landing ahead of a current that would only sweep them backward. Yet they did it again and again. Into the rushing current they swam because it had always been so.

The brothers continued to fish, content with the sound of the water and the breeze that stirred the trees and sent leaves fluttering downward.

Angus broke the silence. “It was different this time.” He said it as though there hadn’t been a long silence since either had spoken.

“Different?” Torn from his own thoughts, Rory wasn’t quite sure to what Angus was referring.

“I’ve lost before, and I’ve seen others lose. But I’ve never seen anyone win like this friend of the Baron of Swordale’s. In truth, had Swordale not vouched for his character, I’d have been sure he was cheating.”

Rory was skeptical. “Because he won?”

“Aye, but it’s how he won. Swordale held the bank, while his friend, Mr. Skeates, played and won almost every turn. And when he didnae win, the bank did. There were more than a handful of players, each one of us losing. As long as I’ve been playing the game, I’ve never seen anything like it. It was unnatural. So I began to study the baron and his friend, Mr. Skeates. They never looked at one another. Ever. Each time Swordale drew a card, for a split second before he drew it, he would react. It was as if he knew what it was going to be. But I couldn’t figure out how.”

“How can you be sure he was cheating?”

Angus looked Rory straight in the eye. “I know I’ve made quite a mess of my life, but in the process, I’ve seen a lot of card games and even more gamblers. I know all the types, how they win and how they lose. And how this gambler won didnae feel right.”

Rory made no effort to hide his doubt.

“I ken what you’re thinking, that I’m making excuses. But I accept responsibility for what happened. Who knows? It might have happened, anyway. If not at this game, then at another. But it happened at this game, and it happened with those men. And I’m sure they were cheating.”

“If you suspected as much, then why did you continue to play?”

“I dinnae ken. I suppose, at the time, I didnae want to believe it. Our families have been friends since I can remember. I couldnae believe he would take everything from me, so I talked myself out of my suspicions, and I relied on my luck.”

“But you’re smarter than that.”

Angus looked at his brother. “Am I?” He smiled to himself. “There, you see? We all choose to believe what we want to believe.”

As they packed up and walked home, Rory brooded. Maybe Angus was right. But what good was knowing that now? When they were nearly home, Rory said, “They shouldnae be able to go about stealing from people.”

“Who can stop them without proof? I’d have made myself look like less of a man for not losing with grace.”

“We’ll just have to find proof, then.”

“Rory, cheating’s a serious charge. You’ve not only got to be certain, but you’ve got to make everyone else certain as well. What’s done is done. I dinnae blame you for hating me. I’ve disgraced our family, and I know it. But I am sorry.”

“I cannae lie,” Rory said. “It was a terrible shock and disappointment. I loved our home and every tree, burn, brae, and glen. But you are my brother, and you’re more to me than all of it. So we’ll find a way through. In the meanwhile, we’ve a place to stay and good people around us. Perhaps letting go of one treasure has made room for another.”

“If you can find any treasure in this, then you’re daft.”

Rory looked ahead, deep in thought. “Maybe I am.”