Lost Bride Chapter 20

EIGHTEEN

THE UNEXPECTED

The night sky was black with a sprinkling of stars when the wagon pulled up to the croft. Lucy threw open the door and rushed inside to Effie.

“We did it, Effie! We caught Skeates!” She hugged Effie then squeezed both of the girl’s hands.

“Well, that’s grand!” Effie stroked the small mound on her belly. Would you like some tea?”

“I’ll make it,” Angus said.

Lucy tried not to look stunned. She plopped onto a chair beside Effie.

“It was Lucy who did it,” Rory chimed from the doorway.

Lucy shook her head modestly. “Effie made it all happen. We’d have had nothing proper to wear, or a roof over our heads, without you.”

Effie smoothed her skirt over her knees. “Anyone would have done the same.”

Angus leaned against the wall, arms folded, smiling at Effie. “Except no one offered but you.”

Effie’s fleeting smile came and went.

“There’s the water,” Angus said. He brought Effie a cup of tea and sat on the edge of the box bed.

Rory made his way to Lucy’s chair and stood behind it. She leaned into his hand as his fingers swept over her cheek, then his hands came to rest on her shoulders. She leaned back with a satisfied sigh and caught sight of the captain and Wendy engaged in a quiet tête-à-tête on the edge of the second box bed. It wasn’t so much that they were sitting on the bed that caught Lucy’s attention. The croft was small, with little furniture, so everyone used the beds like sofas. What she noticed was the hushed, personal way they were talking.

As she pondered the captain and her mother, Angus swept her up into a dance as he sang.

“Careful!” she said as he swung her around. “This skirt could take out half the furniture and the peat fire as well.”

“Sorry, madam. I was overwhelmed by your splendor and keen eye at the gaming tables.”

Seeing Effie turn sharply, Angus quietly told her, “I didnae play.”

Effie picked up her knitting. “’Tis none of my business if you did.”

“May I?” Rory asked Angus then took Lucy’s hand and led her away from the fire and the furniture, to the side of the room. He held out his hand, slipped the other about her waist, and began slowly to dance.

“There’s no music,” she whispered.

“You are my music.”

“Oh, that, Mr. Rory Munro, is a line.” His admiring stare made her weak in the knees, but she hid it.

“A line?”

“Something you say to charm all the ladies.”

He looked a little surprised. “You’re the only one I want to charm.” That gentle, unaffected manner of his was certainly working. She leaned into his arm, and their dance slowed to an embrace. He leaned close to her ear. “Thank you.”

She looked up, ready to offer a modest reply, but seeing his unguarded expression, she said, “I just want you to have everything you deserve.”

“I dinnae deserve you.”

“Well, you’ve got me.”

He tightened his arms about her and whispered, “And I’d have you right now if we were alone.”

Finlay Skeates stood

before a bailie in the Inverness Police Court. The Munro family was present, along with Lucy, Wendy, and Effie. Since the pivotal game in which Angus had lost everything, a number of subsequent victims had suffered varying degrees of losses, so they were all present.

Lucy was surprised to learn that, in Scotland, eighteenth-century defendants rarely retained legal counsel, and Skeates was no exception.

“You are charged with cheating at cards,” the magistrate said. “Is that right?”

“I can’t help it if people don’t like to lose to a superior player.”

“Superior?”

“Aye.”

The magistrate smiled. “It says here that you’ve been on quite a winning streak.”

Skeates shrugged.

“Is there anyone present who has fallen victim to Mr. Skeates and his superior card-playing skills?”

Angus and more than a dozen others stood.

The magistrate pored over the papers in his hands. “Who among you can offer proof of the cheating?”

“I can, your honor,” Lucy said.

He jerked his head toward her. “Who’s responsible for this woman?”

Lucy leaned forward. “Responsible? I am.”

“I am.” Rory cast a stern look at her, which only irritated her more.

The magistrate narrowed his eyes. “Silence her, would you?”

Lucy’s mouth opened, but Rory lowered his voice and spoke through a frustrated smile. “Do you want us to lose?”

She was too stunned to react.

Angus leaned over. “The court doesn’t recognize women,” he whispered.

How long her jaw hung open, Lucy couldn’t have been sure. It was probably somewhere around the same amount of time it took her to mentally list the things she did not like about the eighteenth century. While she would have preferred to make an issue of her right to speak for herself, she could not disagree that the more pressing concern at the moment was getting the Munro estate back in their possession. And so she behaved. But the court couldn’t force her to like it.

Rory finished testifying about the fifty-third card, and several witnesses confirmed his accounting. Twenty minutes after the proceeding had begun, it was over, and they had their property back.

Baron Campbell was found to have operated under duress and was sentenced to one week in jail, which he had already served. Skeates would serve six months for his crime.

As they all walked out, overjoyed and relieved, Lucy muttered to her mother, “Wow, that was quick. Cutting out all the lawyers and women is a real time-saver.”

Wendy’s eyes sparkled. “Well, you wanted eighteenth century; you got eighteenth century.”

Lucy tilted her head toward Rory. “No, I just wanted him.”

The servants

all gathered in front of the castle to greet them upon their return. The butler welcomed the captain back home with dignified words and warmth in his eyes. Captain Munro paused inside the doorway to take in the sight of the entrance call, the grand stairway, and the hallway that led to his library. As the rest of them followed and turned to head for the library, Effie veered off toward the kitchen, but Angus clasped her hand to stop her.

“Effie, come join us.”

“We’re back, Mr. Munro.” She lowered her eyes, discreetly slipped her hand from his, and walked away.

Angus pensively watched the door close behind Effie.

Lucy took a step toward him, but Rory touched her arm. “Leave him be, lass.”

Reluctantly, Lucy left Angus behind and joined Rory. “I can’t help but feel sorry for him.”

Rory smiled to himself. “Aye, well, that’s what he does. He knocks everything down then feels sorry when the pieces fall on him.” He took a deep breath and lowered his voice. “But this time, the pieces fell on all of us.”

Lucy slipped her arm into Rory’s. “But we’re back now. Let’s move forward.”

“Tell that to Effie.” In Rory’s dark eyes, Lucy saw how the pain of his past stood in the way of his future. When he looked at Effie, he seemed to see Margery all over again. But beyond that, at the root of all things painful, was Angus.

Along came Lucy feeling sorry for Angus. Perhaps his ability to elicit that response was not only Angus’s saving grace, but also his curse. He had recovered and moved on to repeat his mistakes, and because of his boyish charm, those around him had always forgiven him. Except Rory. Lucy couldn’t fault him for that, but she feared this dark cloud of a family dynamic would cast its shadow over her relationship with Rory for more years to come.

As they walked into the library, Captain Munro poured champagne into glasses. He stopped and looked up. “Where’s Effie?”

“She’s gone to the kitchen,” Angus said. “I dinnae think she felt comfortable in here with us. With me.”

The captain frowned and looked down, swallowing back his emotions. “Would someone go— No, I’ll go fetch her.”

The glimmer in Angus’s eyes darkened. He finished his champagne, poured a whisky, and went to the window.

Lucy’s mother had gone with the captain to find Effie, leaving Angus by the window, brooding, and Rory at the fire beside Lucy.

She studied Angus. “He’s got to have learned something from this.”

“Don’t expect too much. You’ll just be disappointed.”

She chose not to respond. It was neither the time nor the place.

“I’m sorry,” Rory said. “But I’ve been through this too many times.”

With a nod, Lucy looked over at Angus, who couldn’t have looked more miserable.

Rory turned his gaze on Lucy. His dark eyes never ceased to affect her. “Do you not see that his actions affect us and our future? I’ll not tether you to a life of financial uncertainty.”

In hushed protest, she said, “It’s not your wealth that I fell in love with. It’s you. Whether here, in a croft, in my mother’s small house—no matter what happens or where we might find ourselves, I’ll love you.”

He made a weak effort at a smile and pulled her into his arms. “And I love you—too much to subject you to Angus’s whims.”

She could not ignore the twinge of uneasiness his words prompted. “What are you saying?”

Captain Munro and Wendy returned with Effie in tow, and she looked shyly appreciative.

The captain cleared his throat. “This young lady is no longer in our employ. She did this family a tremendous service at a time when others turned away in discomfort over being so close to such failure—as if they might catch it.”

Angus flinched.

Captain Munro continued. “But Effie stood by us. She gave us a home, and she smuggled our clothes out so we could go expose Skeates as a card cheat and thief. Now it is our turn to stand by her and return the favor. After all we’ve been through, I cannae imagine her not being part of our household—not as a servant, but as part of our family. This will be her home and the home of her child, my grandchild, for as long as they live.”

Effie’s eyes welled with tears. She turned her head slowly back and forth as though she might protest if she weren’t so stunned by the offer.

Lucy looked at the others, who were all smiling. Except Angus. If Lucy didn’t know better, she might have thought that hopeless, lost look in his eyes, as they lingered on Effie, revealed tender feelings.

The captain held up his glass. “To Effie and to coming home.” The captain’s own eyes looked a bit misty as he put on a bright face. “Now then, this is a celebration!” He opened another bottle of champagne, and serious thoughts gave way to joy and laughter.

Following supper,

Effie and the captain settled a matter that had troubled her since his invitation. Reluctant to leave her at her home, he convinced her to stay at least until after the baby was born. After that, they would talk more about it. He made a convincing enough case that she finally agreed.

As the captain’s attention was drawn elsewhere, Angus appeared before her. “I must speak with you, Effie.”

Effie shook her head, but Angus touched her arm. “Please?”

He led her to a far corner of the library. She looked about, wishing she could escape.

Angus folded and unfolded his arms and let them hang loosely. “I’ve made some mistakes.” Her eyes widened, and her lips parted. Before she could speak, he hastened to say, “Terrible ones. And I ken that I’ve hurt you.”

Her brow furrowed as she tamped down the pain he’d brought rushing back.

“I’m not the same man I was when—”

“Angus.” She shook her head and looked anywhere but at him.

“Effie, I ken I was terrible to you, and I… if I could go back, I would never have hurt you like that.”

She managed to look at him. “I thank you for your apology. I do. And I accept it. But if I’m to stay here ’til the bairn is born, we cannae speak of it again.” She didn’t tell him that was because it was too painful or that he’d broken her heart.

“Marry me, Effie.”

Her heart stopped.

He took her hands in his. “Please. I—I think I must have been blinded by the difference in our stations in life. I didn’t want to believe I could love you. But God help me, I do. Will you marry me?”

How many times had she dreamed this moment? She’d let herself love him before she had known what love was or the power of its grip on her heart.

The look in his eyes tugged at her heart. Even now he could sway her to feel something for him. He was all dark eyes, winning grin, and unbridled energy. But boyish charm was no longer enough. She would marry a man or not marry at all.

“No. I’m sorry.” She fled the library and rushed up to her room.