In Your Wildest Scottish Dreams (31 page)

“I’ve spent a year building her, Henry. I’m not about to let a little fire stop me now.”

Fraser Trenholm & Company technically owned the
Raven
and had since he’d turned over the ship to Gavin. Ostensibly acting as an agent for the Confederate States of America, the company provided a packet service between Charleston and Liverpool. They also procured ships for the Confederate fleet, a duty not as well-publicized.

Although the bank draft had already been deposited, Gavin’s death complicated the situation.

He might not be legally responsible, but he felt morally required to make repairs. The best thing to do was buy back the ship. After she was rebuilt he could either sell it to the Confederacy again or another buyer.

“The men think she’s unlucky.”

He didn’t want to hear that. Sailors might be superstitious but shipbuilders were equally so. If a man got it into his head a ship was unlucky, he’d find a dozen reasons to prove it. When the
Raven
was repaired, she’d have a reputation. Not a good beginning to any ship and one that would make it difficult to sell her to another buyer. Not even the Confederacy was desperate enough to take on a ship thought to be cursed.

“Let’s see if we can prove them wrong,” he said.

Maybe it was time he went to the authorities and told them what he knew: Matthew Baumann acted for the Union. The man was determined to stop the Confederate navy from acquiring more ships by any means necessary, even if he had to resort to murder and arson.

“
H
AS MY
husband returned from the yard, Mrs. Hurst?” Glynis asked casually, only stumbling a little over the word husband.

How odd to call Lennox husband. But they’d only been married a day. Only one day and her life seemed upside down.

She had the oddest need to smile, and she did so to the maid dusting the paintings hanging on the wall beside the staircase, to the maid anxiously bobbing a curtsy at the door of the family dining room, to the maid who’d served her breakfast, and now to the housekeeper, Mrs. Hurst.

Despite the fire on the
Raven,
the world was a grand and glorious place this morning. At least her little corner of the world, bathed in sunshine, scented with roses, and graced with a sweet summer breeze.

“No, Mrs. Cameron, he hasn’t,” the woman said, inclining her head toward her.

Mrs. Cameron.
She caught her breath. She was Mrs. Cameron, wasn’t she?

Mrs. McNair had been the housekeeper when she left for London. What had happened to the dear lady? She’d been older, with a bun of red hair and blue eyes always holding a warm expression.

“Have you been at Hillshead long?” she asked.

Mrs. Hurst must have been a beauty when young. Even now the housekeeper was very attractive. Wrinkles crinkled the skin at the outward corners of her eyes and framed her mouth, but there was no mistaking the perfection of her well-formed lips, aquiline nose, and tranquil blue eyes. Her brown hair was laced with gray but she didn’t stoop. Nor did her hands have the veined look common in so many older women. Whatever her age, she carried it proudly.

Glynis had not been able to afford a housekeeper in Washington, and Mabel and her mother handled all the duties in their home. How did one treat a housekeeper? She would imagine very respectfully. If not, the woman could make daily life miserable.

“I haven’t been, no, Mrs. Cameron. Only two years now.”

“I imagine Hillshead keeps you busy. Everything seems to run beautifully.”

The woman inclined her head in acceptance of the compliment.

“We have a great many people on staff, Mrs. Cameron. That always makes the upkeep of a large house like Hillshead easier.”

“How many people?” she asked. Had any of them once worked at the mill?

“Thirty-two, Mrs. Cameron. Seventeen maids, two scullery maids, two cooks, four gardeners, and seven employed at the stable.”

Thirty-two names to memorize and thirty-two people to meet.

“Could you furnish me with a list, Mrs. Hurst, along with their duties?”

The woman looked surprised but she didn’t demur.

“Of course, Mrs. Cameron. When would be an acceptable time to go over the menus?”

“Did Mary discuss those with you?”

The housekeeper nodded.

“I think, until I have time to talk with Miss Cameron, it would be best to continue as things are. After that, we can decide who handles what.”

The woman only nodded but there was a small smile on her lips. Had she passed some test?

She didn’t want to usurp Mary’s authority or take over all her duties. That wasn’t a good way to start a relationship with a new sister-in-law.

“Would you ask the stablemaster if there’s a carriage I can use?”

“We have three carriages, Mrs. Cameron,” the woman said proudly, almost as if the question were an
insult. “One of them is Mr. Cameron’s, of course. I’m certain one of the other two would be available.”

“Thank you. I’d like to go to the yard.”

The woman’s eyebrows nearly disappeared into her hair. “The yard, Mrs. Cameron?”

At her nod, the housekeeper stepped back. “I’ll let Mr. McElwee know.”

Rising from the breakfast table, she raced up the staircase without a shred of decorum, grabbed her reticule, checked her hair in the mirror, and was down again in less than five minutes. Lennox wouldn’t return to Hillshead for hours and she wanted to know about the
Raven.
But the ship’s fate paled beneath the need to see him.

As a newlywed, perhaps she was supposed to be a little shy around her husband. But this was Lennox. The anticipation of seeing him again all dressed and proper made her cheeks warm. Would he recall the last time he saw her, naked with not even a sheet to cover her?

She couldn’t help but smile.

“
I
BEG
your pardon, Mrs. Cameron, but would this be your umbrella?”

Glynis glanced at the stablemaster. A portly man, he reminded her of a bear with his full brown beard and bushy hair, especially standing as he was with his legs braced far apart. His large pawlike hands held out a black umbrella with an intricately carved crook handle.

She shook her head. “No, Mr. McElwee,” she said. “It isn’t. Could it be my husband’s?”

My husband: there was that word again. How strange it had the ability to make her smile now.

“I’ve already asked him, ma’am. It isn’t.” He frowned
at the offending article. “I’ve a dislike of anything not in its proper place, Mrs. Cameron. I’ll put it in the lost bay. After a month or so, if no one claims it, one of us will take it home or give it to one of the maids.”

“That sounds like the best policy,” she said.

She settled into the carriage, arranged her skirts, and placed her hands together on her lap. Outwardly, she was the picture of decorum. Inside, her stomach jumped with excitement. She would see Lennox soon.

At the yard, seabirds clamored overhead, their squawking cries barely heard over the hum of activity on the docks. They passed three sets of Clydesdales pulling wagons piled high with timber.

Once, the rhythm of the cotton mills had punctuated Glasgow’s day, with a third of Glasgow’s workforce earning their living in the textile industry. Now the shipyards employed more men, dictating the time work began, when lunch was taken, and the end of the work day.

When the carriage halted in front of the Cameron and Company offices, she didn’t wait for the driver to open the carriage door but did it herself, hopping out of the vehicle before the steps unfurled.

The scene today differed from the last time she was here. Now dozens of men scrambled over the
Raven
like industrious ants. Their shouting mingled with ringing hammers, the screech of winches, and ropes jerked tight against the weight of timbers being lowered into place. A briny breeze heavy with the sharp odors of paint and varnish made her nose itch. As she neared the office, the stench of smoke grew stronger.

She stood at the base of the steps, hoping the damage to the
Raven
wasn’t worse than what she could see from there. Traces of soot still lingered at the base of one of the smokestacks, and most of the forecastle had been dismantled prior to being rebuilt.

After a few minutes she turned and climbed the rest of the steps, opening the door to the office.

All but one of the drafting tables were occupied, four of them by young men looking curiously similar to each other. She guessed their age as below twenty. Each was thinner than he should have been. They glanced up when she entered, returning to their tasks after a quick perusal of her.

Lennox was seated at the desk in the corner, and she walked toward him, her smile blossoming. He stood, walking around the desk, stretching out his hands.

“Glynis,” he said. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“I came to see how the
Raven
was faring.” And you.

She felt herself warm, looked down at their joined hands, then smiled up at him.

Did he know how young she felt? She might have been reborn. Was that what love did to you? Or was it passion energizing every part of her body until she felt new?

“Are you well?” he asked softly, his voice holding a tender note.

If the office had been empty, she would’ve stretched up on tiptoe and kissed him. How lonely his mouth seemed at the moment.

“I am,” she said. So wonderful her mood colored the day, touched it with magic.
He
was magic.

He led her around to the chair, and she sat, gripping her reticule with one hand. The other rested on the desk, fingers stretched toward him as if she couldn’t bear to be parted even now.

“The damage doesn’t look bad,” she said. “Is it worse than it looks?”

He shook his head. “It didn’t get that much of a start before one of the guards saw it. But it will take a few weeks to repair.”

“It wasn’t an accident, then.”

He shook his head. “No, because of where it started. There’s no source of heat and we didn’t have a storm last night, so lightning is out as a cause.”

She didn’t ask if he thought Baumann a suspect. Ignoring the man, however, didn’t make him vanish.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he said, pulling open a drawer. “It’s a draft,” he said, holding out a piece of paper to her. “For the mill.”

She took it, her eyes widening at the amount. She’d never seen a check for so much money.

“I didn’t really marry you to save the mill,” she said, still staring at it. “Or my reputation, for that matter.”

She glanced up at him.

“Regardless, I promised,” he said.

The joy she felt a minute ago dimmed. Did he really think she married him because he promised to save the mill?

Didn’t he know how she felt about him? Did he need her to say the words? Now wasn’t the time, not with the young men behind them. Even if she whispered,
I love you, Lennox,
would he believe her?

Had he forgotten about last night and this morning? Was the passion he’d felt not connected to any other emotion? Did he feel nothing more than lust?

The smile she’d so often worn to official Washington functions crept to her mouth and took up its long held place of honor.

“Thank you,” she said, tucking the check into her reticule. “I’m certain Duncan will be grateful.”

Standing, she fluffed her skirt, concentrating on the fit of the reticule string around her wrist.

“Glynis . . .” he began.

She shook her head at him.
Do not speak now when it will not matter.

He seemed to know how close she was to tears. Did
he think, on the morning after their wedding night, she had come to him for money? Did he think her so avaricious?

What did he think of her?

She wasn’t you.

What had that meant? Why hadn’t she asked?

He stood and accompanied her to the door, reaching in front of her to open it. How gallant he was. How honorable a man Lennox Cameron was and how much she adored him.

How very strange to want to kick him in the shin.

L
ENNOX STARED
after his wife as she made her way carefully down the metal steps. He kicked himself mentally. The draft for the mill had just been one more task he had to accomplish. He hadn’t considered giving the check to Glynis might have overtones.

He’d come so close to telling her how he’d felt last night, only to be disturbed by the news the
Raven
was ablaze. Now, without even trying, he’d hurt her feelings. He’d altered her mood until her smile turned brittle and she hadn’t looked him in the eyes.

The instant joy he’d felt on seeing her was tarnished now with the knowledge he’d made a mistake.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” he said to the men behind him.

More than one of them nodded. Did they know he was going to have to apologize, and do some groveling while he was at it?