Lost Bride Chapter 18

SIXTEEN

FOR PEAT’S SAKE

Lucy and Wendy forced Effie to sit and relax while they washed the supper dishes. Everyone else was gathered in what had become his or her usual seat near the peat fire. As Lucy and Wendy finished the last of the dishes, Angus stood. “I have something to say.”

Speech usually came easily to Angus, but he stammered. “I, well, I ken what a hardship… I ken that I’ve burdened your lives. Father”—he glanced at the captain but looked quickly away and swallowed back his emotions—“if it helps, I’ll not ever forgive myself, so I wouldnae blame any of you for doing likewise.”

Lucy had been hard on Angus, in thought if not in deed. To see him humbled like this was something she’d never expected to see, and it moved her.

Angus continued. “So I ask nothing of anyone. I just want you to ken that I’m sorry.”

The captain gave a slight nod to Angus, while Rory lifted his glass. “May the roof above never fall in, and may we below never fall out.”

Angus met Rory’s eyes, and something passed between them in the shorthand of siblings, while their father looked on. Wendy slipped her hand into Lucy’s and gave it a squeeze, for they both knew the power of family, and this one had grown stronger.

Their days were filled

with preparing for winter. They dug peat and left it to dry in the sun. A week later, they went to load the dried peat bricks in baskets Effie called creels.

“Should you be doing this in your condition?” Wendy asked.

Effie hoisted a creel to her back. “Oh, I’m fine. I’m through with the sickness, but I promise I’ll slow down when I’m as large as this basket.” She grinned and kept on walking and knitting.

“I promise you will too,” Wendy said. They all laughed.

As Lucy struggled to walk with a heavy creel on her back, she asked Effie, “Has anyone ever thought of putting wheels on these things?”

Effie laughed. “No, I dinnae think so. Not with this rough ground.”

Wendy struggled alongside her daughter. “Do you think your spinner luggage could manage this dirt path?”

“Don’t think I wouldn’t try if I had it here.” Lucy hoisted her basket back up from where it had slipped off her shoulder and was working its way to her neck. “What about choking? How many times a day does that happen?”

Effie laughed and called back, “Just keep it balanced across your shoulders, and you’ll be fine.”

Lucy trudged onward. “Sure, I will.”

As they approached the road, a term used very loosely in Lucy’s opinion, a carriage drove past. Effie watched it disappear around a bend. “Oh, that must be him. I didnae want to say anything to the captain and the Misters Munro, but I hear Mr. Skeates is moving in to the castle.”

By the time they reached home, the Munro men had already heard about Skeates’s arrival from a passing neighbor. Skeates was bringing most of his own staff and would only be filling in gaps here and there with former Munro workers.

Over supper, they could not avoid what was on everyone’s minds.

Rory set down his fork. “I cannae stomach the thought of that cheat in our home.”

The captain looked from Rory to Angus. “Cheat?”

Angus cast a sharp eye toward Rory. “We’ve no proof.”

Rory looked at his father. “Angus feels certain the man cheated. The game was too coincidental to be anything else.”

“But,” Angus said firmly, “we’ll not share our suspicions. We’ve been brought low enough. Casting aspersions on Skeates’s character just makes us look worse.”

“Aye.” The captain leaned back, deep in thought.

“I cannae say where I heard it, but I’m told Mr. Skeates is a terrible man to the folk who work downstairs,” Effie said.

Lucy leaned forward, her eyes bright with interest. “Terrible? How so?”

Effie lowered her eyes. “He takes liberties. Unwanted liberties.” She glanced toward Angus, which did not go unnoticed by him.

His temper flared. “That is not what I did, and you ken it.”

Effie stood, looking shocked. “I didnae say that you did! Now look, Mr. Angus Munro, you can talk how you like when I’m in your house, but now you’re in mine.” She went to her box bed and sat on the edge with her arms folded.

Lucy quietly said, “Angus, I think she only looked at you to distinguish between you and Skeates. No one’s accusing you of anything.”

His eyes were ablaze. “I would never force myself on a woman. Why would I have to?”

“Go talk to her,” Lucy whispered.

Angus sat down beside Effie, and they quietly talked.

Lucy looked over at the pair. Angus had the sort of dangerous good looks that a naïve girl could fall prey to and had in this case. She wondered how Effie could still be so kind to him when he had so cruelly rejected her. Effie must still harbor feelings, which saddened Lucy.

The only way Lucy could find Angus palatable was to accept him as the person he was even though he was far from the man he could have been. And yet he had changed since she’d known him. A month ago, she would never have imagined him working about the croft as he did, not complaining when painful blisters and calluses formed on his hands. In truth, he never complained. She had to respect him for that.

The captain stared at the fire with narrowing eyes. “That Skeates is a scoundrel, no doubt about that. What else do we know about him?”

“The baron introduced him as his dear friend from the Lowlands who had recently arrived for a visit,” Angus said.

The captain tapped his fingertips on the arm of his chair. “His dear friend whom no one had seen nor heard of before.”

Angus looked at his father. “At the time, I had other things on my mind, but looking back, there was something not quite right about those two. The baron seemed, well, the best way I can describe it is uneasy. One didn’t sense the sort of ease found between friends.”

Rory leaned forward. “Just what are you suggesting?”

Angus shrugged. “Only that it was curious. As clouded as my good sense might have been, losing as I was, it struck me.”

The captain studied Angus. “I wish we knew more about the dear friend Mr. Skeates.”

“I can ask around.” All eyes turned to Effie, whose eyes widened at seeing the captain’s masked disbelief. “You do ken servants talk, do you not? I’ll see what I can find out in the village tomorrow.”

Lucy was making

the beds up with clean linens while Rory puttered about. Suddenly, two arms circled her waist.

“Rory!” she cried out. “Don’t scare me like that!”

Sporting that grin that she could not resist, he asked, “How would you like me to scare you?”

“Not at all, preferably.”

He was instantly serious. “I see. If you dinnae like surprises, then I’ll have to find someone else to share this lunch basket I’ve made.” He shook his head, wincing.

She looked at him with a glint in her eye. “Well, I don’t have anything against lunch.”

“That’s good, lass.” He started toward the door, basket in hand. “After all, you’ll need to keep up your strength for all that hard work you’re doing.” He opened the door.

She folded her arms and stared as he hesitated then walked through the door. An instant after the door closed, he stuck his head back inside. Lucy still stood, feet planted, with a broad smile on her face.

Having had his bluff called, Rory tilted his head toward the outdoors. “Well, all right then, come on.”

Lucy laughed as she untied her apron and rushed out to join him.

It was a vigorous uphill hike, but they were rewarded with a view that took Lucy’s breath away. “It never looks quite the same, does it?”

His eyes locked on hers. “No. One time’s more beautiful than the next.”

“So you think flattery will win me over?” She didn’t tell him that the soft look in his eyes was enough.

“I was hoping.” He smiled, but it faded, replaced by a deeper emotion.

The wind swept over the top of the mountain. Lucy shivered and stretched out a quilt to sit on. She pulled a second quilt about her shoulders and offered to share half with Rory. “You realize it’s November. Not quite picnic weather.”

“Aye, but…” He sighed. “I’m going daft from the sight of you day after day.”

“I get that a lot, although not in a good way.”

He laughed and swept her into his embrace. “No man could love you as I do.”

“Rory—” She was going to tell him she loved him, but her lips found his, and any words in her mind fled. All she knew was the feel of her hands on his shoulders and chest and the warmth of his body against hers. The strength of the passion that fueled his embrace and his touch drove her longing. She reveled in the weight of his body on hers. It no longer mattered to her where they were, whether they were in her time or his, as long as they were together. They had this moment, which Rory had stolen, alone at the top of the hill.

Rory brought

in some peat for the fire, while Lucy began fixing a stew with the rabbit Angus had caught for dinner. When she’d first set eyes upon it, she’d had to turn away. Seeing her reaction, Rory had come to her rescue as Angus stood wondering what was the matter. “Dinnae fash, lass, we’ll have this gutted and skinned in no time.”

“Don’t! I don’t want to know what you’re doing or how. I’m just going to pretend it came out of a shrink-wrapped package from the grocery store.” She didn’t care if no one had any idea what she was talking about. She’d done pretty darn well at adjusting to life in 1746, but there were some things she might never grow used to. Luckily for her, Effie arrived home in time to complete the dead-animal portion of the evening’s culinary festivities.

As they sat down for their meal, Angus offered to say grace. Effie looked shocked, while Lucy just looked. If she didn’t know him better, she would say Angus was changing, and for the better. She glanced at Rory, but he was too fully absorbed in his meal to take notice.

“I had a chat in the village with Annie, the scullery maid at the castle,” Effie said. “Well, now she’s been taken on by the Baron of Swordale—as a housemaid, no less. I’d never have thought it, but she seems to be getting on well enough.”

Lucy thought she detected a subtle rivalry there, but given the circumstances, who could blame the girl?

Effie continued. “Well, I was asking about Mr. Skeates, and she said that same gentleman happened to call on the baron this past week. She happened to be outside His Lordship’s drawing room when she heard loud voices. Mr. Skeates—for she knew it was not His Lordship’s voice—well, he was ordering the baron about in no uncertain terms.”

“Skeates was ordering Swordale? In his own home?” the captain asked, appalled.

“About what?” Rory asked. “What were his exact words?”

Effie sighed. “I tried to get it out of her, but she couldnae remember. All she could say was that the two men had words, and when Mr. Skeates paused at the door to put on his hat, he looked very pleased with himself.”

“Did he?” Angus asked, intrigued.

“Aye, but His Lordship was not. As soon as Mr. Skeates was gone, he called for the butler.”

Wendy’s eyes twinkled. “Your friend didn’t miss much, did she?”

“No, she never has.” Effie raised her eyebrows and smiled. “Shortly after, they were told to prepare for a large party. It’s to be a week from Saturday.”

Rory leaned back, brow furrowed. “Hmm… it would seem our Mr. Skeates has called for a party at the baron’s expense.”

Angus scowled. “But why would he not host his own party? He’s certainly won enough funds to entertain the whole of the Highlands in style.”

“Unless he needs introduction to Swordale’s friends,” Rory said.

The captain turned to Angus. “What sort of man would you judge Mr. Skeates to be just from looking at him?”

“Rather coarse,” Angus said without hesitation.

The captain nodded. “And friends? Only those he has met through his so-called ‘dear friend’ Swordale?”

Rory studied his father. “Skeates has something on Swordale?”

The captain gave a knowing nod. “And…”

Rory’s eyes brightened. “Either he’s blackmailing him, or the baron owes him, and this is payment for a debt.”

Angus’s eyes darkened. “We need to go to this party.”

Rory eyed Angus and shook his head slowly. “Do you think that’s a good idea right now?”

Angus bristled. “I’ll not gamble if that’s what you’re thinking. I want to observe.”

“Observe what?” Rory asked, still doubting his brother.

“I want to observe them together. What if Skeates has set up a scheme using Swordale’s friends as his marks? If he has, Swordale knows it, but Skeates has something on him, so he’s forced to comply. Skeates is good, or I would have seen something already. But everyone makes mistakes, and he’s due for one.”

“You’re just guessing,” Rory said.

“Aye. You can say what you want about how I’ve lived my life, but I’ve a bit of experience to back up my guess.”

Rory reluctantly agreed but then shook his head.

Angus’s eyes shone. “There’s only one way to be sure.”

Rory’s jaw tightened. “Oh no. We dinnae need to be sure. What we need is to live our lives without risking what little we have left.”

Angus was losing his patience. “And it is precious little. Do you want to live like this forever? How long do you think it will be before the new laird takes stock of his holdings and forces us out of this croft to make way for new tenants?”

Effie took in a sharp breath.

Lucy leaned toward Rory. “Is this true? Could he send us away?”

Rory tore his glare from Angus. “Aye. Effie doesnae own this croft. I suppose it’s possible he’ll not ken how to run an estate of this size. It could take weeks before he gets around to looking into the rent from his crofters or sends us all on our way.”

Lucy put her hand on Rory’s. “Then we have to do something.”

Angus watched the exchange with the thrill of a win in his eyes.

Rory rose from his chair to go look out the window, arms folded.

The captain spoke in measured tones. “If he’s a cheat, and we’re able to expose him, we could reclaim our fortune.”

Lost in thoughts that put a gleam in his eyes, Angus leaned back and looked at the beams overhead, while across the room, Rory turned to his father with a questioning look. The captain answered with a nod.

Rory went over and sat beside Lucy.

“Rory, how can you pass up a chance to get your home back?” She looked into his eyes with confidence in the effort if not the outcome. When he remained reluctant, she said, “The estate has been in your family for generations. You at least need to try.”

He grasped her hand and turned to his father. “This could turn out badly.”

His father nodded but shrugged.

“Or not,” Lucy said.

Effie watched, her eyes lit with the excitement of a new adventure.