Rose In Scotland (26 page)

“Ah, Lady Caroline, Miss MacColme.” The solicitor swept into an officious bow. “Finished already? And what did you think of the house, eh? Is it not as lovely as I promised?”

“Quite lovely,” Caroline said, so grateful for his fortuitous arrival she could have wept. “In fact,” she added, reaching a daring conclusion, “I believe I shall take it. Kindly have the proper papers drawn up for me to sign by tomorrow.”

Greed, delight, and dismay all warred on Mr. Penderson’s florid countenance before he offered her another bow. “As you wish, my lady,” he said, sounding doubtful. “But will you not wish your husband to inspect the property first? He
may have …” He fluttered his plump hands uselessly. “… objections.”

From this Caroline concluded he meant that Hugh’s permission would be needed, and she burned at the injustice of it. “I will discuss this with him tonight,” she said, feigning a confidence she did not feel. “But I am certain he will be as delighted with the house as am I. Have the papers waiting.”

Mr. Penderson bowed again, promising to have all in readiness by the following day. Caroline and Mairi accompanied him outside, waiting patiently as he secured the door. Caroline had hired a coach and four on her second day in Edinburgh, and it stood in readiness by the curb. The footman leaped down from his perch and was holding the door open in anticipation of their arrival, but when Mairi started forward Caroline hung back, suddenly loath to enter the well-sprung conveyance.

“Caroline?” Mairi paused and cast her a puzzled glance over her shoulder. “Are you nae coming?”

“Actually, I thought I would walk back,” she said, forcing a smile to her lips. “It is such a lovely day, and I could do with a bit of fresh air. You go ahead, and I shall see you for tea.”

Mairi’s incredulous gaze went from Caroline to the gray and sullen skies that were heavy with the threat of a storm. “Are you daft?” she exclaimed, hurrying back to her side. “You canna walk back to Chambers Street! ’Twould be most improper!”

The idea of her fiercely independent and recalcitrant sister-in-law lecturing her on the proprieties
brought forth a genuine smile to Caroline’s lips. “Nonsense, dearest,” she said, tugging on her gloves with brisk purpose. “In the days I have been here, I have observed many ladies of our class walking about without so much as a footman to grant them countenance, and no one seems to think a whit of it. I shall be fine, I assure you.”

“Aye, but none of those ladies is a MacColme and married to my dragon of a brother,” Mairi grumbled, clearly disturbed by the notion of Caroline’s ambling about Edinburgh’s teeming streets. “If you really wish to walk I would be happy to—”

“No,” Caroline interrupted, and then softened her abruptness by laying a sisterly hand on the other woman’s arm. “I am sorry, Mairi,” she said, her voice gentle for all its firmness. “I have no wish to be rude, but truly I would prefer it if you returned to your aunt’s home without me. I—I need to be alone.”

Mairi’s frown deepened. “Are you certain of this?” she asked, her green eyes frankly troubled. “I dinna mean to plague you, but Hugh willna be pleased to learn I let you do this thing. In fact, he’s like to come tearing after you in a temper when he hears of it.”

Knowing that was all too likely a possibility and wishing to avoid the scene that was certain to follow, Caroline thought for a moment. “You spoke earlier of needing to call upon a friend,” she said, shooting Mairi a hopeful look. “Perhaps you could stop there first, instead of going directly home?”

Mairi chewed her lip bottom lip indecisively. “Caroline …”

“Please, Mairi.” Caroline tightened her hold on her arm. “You must know I would never ask this of you if it wasn’t important. All I am requesting is a little time alone so that I might gather my thoughts. Hugh needn’t even know I am gone. Please,” she repeated, guessing rightly that the other woman was weakening. “I promise to be home in time for luncheon.”

Mairi regarded her for a long moment. “Is this because of what I said inside?” she asked quietly, her gaze searching Caroline’s face for the truth.

“No, not at all.” Caroline forced herself to meet Mairi’s gaze as she uttered the lie. “I just want to walk and think; that is all.”

Mairi hesitated another moment and then capitulated with a heavy sigh. “All right,” she said, looking far from pleased with the situation. “I’ll stop by Suzanne’s on the way home to Auntie’s. But I’ll only be there an hour or so,” she warned with a scowl. “If you’re not home within half an hour after me, I’ll go to Hugh and tell him everything.”

Caroline did some swift calculations before nodding. Ninety minutes wasn’t as long a time as she would have liked, but it was better than nothing. “By twelve-thirty, then,” she said after consulting the watch pinned to her muff. “With luck, I shall even be there to greet you.”

An imp of mischief danced briefly in Mairi’s bright eyes. “Dinna do that,” she implored with a chuckle. “For if you do, ’Tis I who will find myself explaining my tardiness to Aunt Egidia, and that I would as lief not do.”

Caroline could well sympathize with Mairi’s plight, and renewed her promise to be home within the hour and a half’s time allotted her. She waited on the sidewalk and waved good-bye until the coach disappeared around the corner, leaving her with the solitude she craved.

At first she stood there indecisively, torn between delight at her newfound freedom and a giddy sense of terror at the realization that for the first time in many weeks she was quite, quite alone. In the end her delight conquered her trepidation and she began walking, with no particular destination in mind.

As she was in the new part of the town, she explored that area first, studying with interest the many houses in varying stages of construction. Compared to the Old Town, which she found to be cramped and crowded, the New Town was quite spacious, and the elegant stone houses with their tall windows and black iron archways put her strongly in mind of Bath. She could be at home here, she mused with a sharp pang of longing. Provided, of course, she could convince Hugh to agree to her plan.

She continued wandering, pausing occasionally to peer into a shop window or gaze up at Edinburgh Castle looming high on the massive cliffs that separated the New Town from the Old. Its rugged appearance and stunning sense of isolation reminded her of Hugh, and she felt anew the sharp thrust of pain she had felt at Mairi’s casual revelation about the locket. Why it mattered so much she knew not, she only knew she felt hurt and oddly betrayed by his keeping the miniature from her. If he could do that, she
mused, tears stinging her eyes as she continued walking, then it must mean he did not truly view her as his wife.

Time slid away as she continued walking, brooding over the enigma that was her husband, and trying to decide what she was supposed to do about him. She soon left the New Town behind her, puffing with exertion as she climbed the steep steps leading to the area near Canon-gate. She wandered about aimlessly, going up and down the narrow and winding streets without thought or purpose. The skies that had been threatening rain began growing ominously dark, and at the roll of thunder overhead, she glanced up to find herself in an area of Edinburgh unfamiliar to her.

She was in one of the alleys which the Scots called closes, and although it was elegant, she felt a small frisson of unease. She gazed about her, the sudden sense of being watched making her heart race with fear. Two men dressed in the dark clothing of laborers had entered the close, and were between her and the street, their heads bent as they moved toward her. They looked harmless enough, but the sensation of danger grew increasingly strong as they neared her. She was thinking about abandoning her pride and began pounding on one of the doors opening onto the close, when one of the doors did open and a man stepped out, nearly colliding with her.

“Beg pardon, ma’am,” he said, touching his finger to the broad black hat of the cleric. “Didn’t see ye standing there. Might I be of assistance?”

The two men turned off into one of the narrow passageways leading to another close, and Caroline
exhaled a silent breath of relief. Apparently she had let her fears get the best of her, she thought, feeling slightly foolish as she turned to give the parson a warm smile.

“I am afraid I have mistaken my way,” she said. “Could you be so kind as to direct me toward Chambers Street?”

The man’s bushy white eyebrows rose in astonishment. “Chambers Street?” he repeated. “Why, the Lord save ye, ma’am, ye are a good way from Chambers Street! Are ye lost, then?”

Thinking that rather self-evident, Caroline contrived to keep her smile in place. “I am afraid that I am,” she said, thinking Scottish parsons were every bit as dull-witted as their English brethren. “I was attempting to find my way to my aunt’s home, but I seem to have taken a wrong turn. If you could but direct me to the right way, I should be most grateful.”

“Of course, madam, of course,” he replied, and launched into a bewildering set of instructions that left Caroline even more confused. When he was done he gave her a polite bow and hurried away, leaving her to glare after him in helpless frustration.

Now what?
she brooded, nervously chewing her lips. The one part of the minister’s directions she did understand entailed walking past the passageway where the two men had disappeared, and that she would as lief not do. She hesitated a few more moments before deciding she was being unpardonably skittish. There hadn’t been so much as a word of Uncle Charles in all the days they had been in Edinburgh; it
was foolish of her to think she was in any danger.

With that thought firmly in mind she turned and walked back down the close, taking care to give the entrance to the passageway as wide a berth as possible. By the time she reached the street she was much more relaxed, feeling slightly shamefaced she could be so missish. She was debating whether she should attempt to find her way back to Chambers Street on her own or admit defeat and flag down a passing hack, when a closed carriage pulled to a halt directly in front of her.

Thinking someone was about to alight she stepped back, only to run into the man who had walked up in back of her. She turned to offer an apology when the man grabbed her, his hand clamping roughly down on her mouth even as he shoved her toward the waiting carriage. She struggled furiously, but she was no match for the man’s bull-like strength. He lifted her off her feet, thrusting her into the carriage and then climbing in after her.

She whirled to face him, determined to do whatever was necessary to win her freedom, when she became aware of the coach’s other occupant. Her uncle Charles sat across from her, a thin smile of triumph on his lips as he regarded her.

“Ah, Caroline,” he murmured, inclining his head toward her mockingly. “How delightful to have you in my company once again. You might as well make yourself comfortable, my dear. I fear you are in for a bit of a ride.”

H
ugh was looking over the day’s post when there was a knock on the door. Thinking it was Caroline returned from her shopping, he set his work aside and leaned back in his chair.

“Come in,” he called out, a smile of welcome on his face.

“Hugh?” Mairi opened the door and peered around the edge, her lively face set with worry. “Might I have a word with you?”

“Of course,
kempie,”
he said, swallowing his disappointment. “What is it that’s on your mind?”

To his surprise, she hesitated, shutting the door behind her before coming forward. “Now, before you go off in a tearing rage, I’m sure there is nothing wrong,” she began cautiously. “She’s lost track of time, like as not, and will be home soon. It is just she promised to be home at twelve-thirty, and it’s nearer to one o’clock now. And—”

Hugh held up a hand, stopping the nervous flow of words. “Who said she would be home by noon?” he asked, a terrible suspicion dawning. “Are you talking about Caroline?”

Mairi gave a miserable nod. “Aye.”

He leaped to his feet, his hands clenching into fists. “But I don’t understand!” he said, his brows meeting in a scowl. “I thought she was with you.”

“She was,” Mairi admitted. “But when it was time to return home she said she was feeling restless, and wanted a breath of fresh air. She—she decided to walk back from the New Town.”

“What?”
Hugh roared.

Mairi drew herself up with a sniff. “You needn’t take that tone with me, Hugh MacColme,” she informed him coolly. “I’m nae a child to be raged at and scolded.”

“Are you daft? You ought to have forbade her from leaving you, instead of sending her on her way,” Hugh snapped, casting a panicked glance at the clock on his desk. As Mairi had said it was nearly one of the clock, and there was no telling what terrible fate might have befallen Caroline since she and Mairi had parted company.

Mairi’s green eyes grew wide with indignation. “Forbade?” she repeated incredulously. “Who am I to forbid your wife anything? And for your information, you great bully, your wife is a woman grown, and needs no one to
forbid
her to do what she would! If this is the sort of nonsense you blither at her, I dinna doubt she wanted a few minutes of peace,” she continued, her manner belligerent. “I only wonder that she didna hit you over the head with a bullax instead. A Scotswoman would have split your skull for such brass!”

“Never mind that now,” Hugh said, impatiently brushing his sister’s scolding words aside.
“That’s not important. It’s probably nothing, as you say, but in light of her uncle’s threats I would feel better knowing where she is.”

“Her uncle!” Mairi exclaimed, shooting Hugh a horrified look. “That is another thing I wished to tell you!”

Hugh’s blood turned icy with fear. “What of her uncle?” he asked slowly. “What do you know of him?”

“Only that he is here, in Edinburgh,” Mairi said, looking more troubled than ever. “I was visiting Suzanne Broyleigh this morning, and while I was there Dorthea Cummings came in. She had been to call upon Iain Dunhelm’s mother, and she said he had visitors,
English
visitors. An earl and a baronet, all fine airs and insolence, they were, and full of questions about Caroline. Hugh, what is going on?”