The Border Trilogy (24 page)

“Sit down, lass.” When she had obeyed him, he said, “Do you feel better now?”

“Aye,” she replied, her voice low, “unless you mean to shout at me again.”

He sat beside her. “I didn’t shout at you.”

“You did. And in front of Lady Somerville, at that.”

“Megan doesn’t matter. She is family.”

“Your family, not mine,” she muttered, “and you didn’t like it when I answered you in kind.”

“I see.” He digested her words for a moment while she wondered if she had vexed him again. “You are right,” he said at last. “I should not have said what I said to you in Megan’s presence. Forgive me?”

She stared at him, amazed. “Aye.” She smiled. “I did not think you would apologize.”

“Well, I’ve not finished with you yet, sweetheart, but I do know that a part of the fault this morning was mine. ’Twould be churlish not to admit it.” He reached out to take her chin in his hand, making her look at him, and his expression grew more serious. “But you were not very gracious to Megan, were you?” When she closed her eyes, he said, “Look at me, lass. That’s better. Megan fears that you dislike her.”

Perceptive of her
, Mary Kate thought, but all she said was, “I doubt she loses much sleep for thinking about it.”

Douglas frowned, dropping his hand from her chin.

Here it comes
, she thought, watching him warily.

“Megan is my cousin and my friend,” he said evenly. “I would like you to be friends with her. However, if for some reason you find that you cannot be, I will still expect you to be gracious. The good Lord knows she has tried her best to attach your friendship. Last night she went out of her way to encourage you to join us in the singing, but she met only with rebuff, and this morning your attitude toward her was barely civil. You will have to do better.”

She sighed. “Very well, sir.”

“I want you to apologize to her, lassie. I have already done so on your behalf, but you must say your own piece as well.”

Mary Kate swallowed hard. She had not thought before of how he would interpret his cousin’s behavior, but if he thought Lady Somerville was trying to be generous and hospitable, nothing she could say would alter his opinion. She would only come off second best in such a debate. The thought of apologizing galled her, but if Douglas wanted generosity, she would give him generosity. She stood up. “Where is she?”

He smiled, relieved. “That’s my good lass. She went up to change her dress. We’ll find her together, shall we?”

They found her in Lady Strachan’s parlor with her aunt and several maidservants, who were all industriously plying their needles. Mary Kate wished her apology might be made more privately, but at the same time, she was glad to have witnesses. She strode briskly forward, holding out her hand.

“Lady Somerville, I have come to apologize. I was uncivil to you this morning, and I would make amends.”

Lady Strachan looked surprised by Mary Kate’s words but not nearly so surprised as her niece looked. Glancing at Douglas, however, Megan quickly recovered her countenance and took Mary Kate’s hand, giving it a warm squeeze. “There is no need for an apology, my dear. I assure you, I did not regard the incident in the least.” Her words were accompanied by a sugary smile that made Mary Kate long to smack her, but she merely withdrew her hand, murmuring that Lady Somerville was too kind.

Douglas was pleased with her for the moment, but relations between the two young women continued to be strained, and Mary Kate was constantly aware of a taunt in Megan’s attitude toward her. That very evening, when the older girl challenged Douglas to a game of cards and he accepted, the first game led to a second and then to a third. Lady Strachan bade them good night at last and retired, and soon afterward, Mary Kate suggested that since the day had been long and rather tiring, she, too, would like to go to bed.

Douglas waved her away. “I’ll be along soon enough, lass, as soon as I teach this wench that I am still the master player.”

Megan shot her a honeyed smile, and Mary Kate hesitated, loathing the thought of leaving them alone together, but then she decided that there was nothing to be gained by remaining in the room simply to be ignored by the two of them. As it was, Douglas scarcely noticed that she had gone, and he still had not arrived by the time she fell asleep in her own bed.

In the next few days their activities fell into a pattern. Strachan declared a holiday and bore his son and Ned off hunting in the mornings, returning in time for dinner, after which the afternoons were spent playing at battledore and shuttlecock or watching Douglas and Ned play tennis.

Had it not been for Lady Somerville, Mary Kate thought on more than one occasion, she would be enjoying herself very much, for Lady Strachan was kind, and his lordship was jolly and charming. But Megan was making her life miserable. Mary Kate was certain that she was doing her best to attract Douglas to her bed; and, considering his past history, it seemed almost inevitable that she would succeed if indeed she had not already done so. As the date set for Lady Strachan’s party drew nearer, Mary Kate found it more and more difficult to display a gracious attitude toward the older girl.

Guests began to arrive on Saturday well before the midday meal was served, and the dinner itself was a veritable feast. Afterward, the family and guests moved out onto the terrace for the sweets, which were served with a variety of spicy drinks. As the afternoon wore on, there were various games and other pastimes to be enjoyed against a background of unceasing, animated conversation until Lady Strachan suggested that the ladies might like to retire to enjoy a refreshing nap before the later festivities began.

Mary Kate was delighted with the party. Most of the guests had come purposely to make her acquaintance, and there were several handsome and unattached young men who were quick to show their outspoken approval of the new Lady Douglas. Douglas, too, had been charmingly attentive—probably, his wife thought bitterly, because Lady Somerville had been too busy renewing old friendships to flirt with him. Mary Kate had also been flirting, however, and when she agreed to Lady Strachan’s suggestion, there were a good many flattering groans of dismay.

Douglas laid a possessive hand upon her shoulder. “You seem to have made a conquest or two, sweetheart.”

“Aye, is it not wonderful?”

He grinned. “Just see to it that you behave yourself.”

“And what of yourself, sir?” Despite his attentiveness, there was a certain amount of tartness in her question.

But Douglas chuckled and, catching her close, gave her a resounding kiss on the lips. When he let her go, she was laughing and breathless. “The first dance is mine, wife.”

She curtsied and fled upstairs, knowing others would follow. Since a late supper would be served at eleven o’clock in the great chamber, the guests were offered but a light repast in their bedchambers while they changed, but by eight o’clock everyone had begun moving toward the long gallery.

The ladies were resplendent in bright colored silks and velvets, the gentlemen hardly less so. For the most part, feminine attire was informal, and only older women who did not expect to take part in the dancing wore farthingales. The younger ones wore simpler gowns, allowing greater freedom of movement. Dancing was energetic exercise, not easily accomplished in stiff corsets and widely billowing skirts.

Mary Kate wore a gown of dark red three-piled velvet over gold lace petticoats. Her undersleeves were of matching lace, and her low-cut bodice was trimmed with a falling lace collar and seed pearls. She wore no ruff, and her hair, though confined in a light, pearl-trimmed caul, was not elaborately coiffed. Her jewelry consisted of her delicate pendant watch, several gold chains, a necklace of pearls alternating with gold links, and a pearl-and-ruby ring.

Douglas had suggested more than once since their arrival that she ought to wear more baubles so as not to make him appear a pauper before his friends and relations, and as promised, he had presented her with several of the family pieces. But she continued to resist, saying that to deck herself out in such a way made her feel gaudy. That night, to please him, she wore an extra gold chain or two, the ruby ring, and even a pair of dangling golden earbobs; however, the moment she saw Lady Somerville, she began to wonder if she had worn enough.

Dressed in an exquisitely simple gown of shimmering lavender silk, Megan glittered with jewelry in the approved border tradition. Her smooth blond hair was confined in a lavishly ornamented clip; her hands and wrists gleamed with gold, silver, sapphires, amethysts, and pearls; and, some of her heavily jeweled chains and necklaces draped as low as her busk-point. If a man’s affluence was judged by his wife’s appearance, Mary Kate thought with a sigh, then truly Lady Somerville did her husband proud. She moved with the veritable clink of wealth.

The music began for the first dance, and Mary Kate pushed all thought of her rival firmly out of her mind. That night she meant to enjoy herself. Looking almost virginal with her glowing cheeks and sparkling eyes, she suffered no lack of partners, so although her husband disappeared into the crowd soon after that first dance, she paid little heed to his lack of attention.

It seemed no time at all before the musicians struck up for the galliard, the last dance before they would adjourn to the great chamber for supper. With a brief memory of the last time she had executed the fast-paced steps, with handsome Kenneth Gillespie at Critchfield, she happily accepted Ned Lumsden’s invitation to be his partner; however, halfway through the dance, she caught sight of Douglas dancing enthusiastically with Lady Somerville. When the music stopped, she was near enough to see him give his cousin a great, laughing hug, and when Lady Somerville turned her face obligingly up to his, he planted a kiss squarely on her rosy lips.

Mary Kate stiffened automatically, then forced herself to relax when she noted several speculating glances cast first toward Douglas and then toward herself. Her husband, however, seemed completely unaware of the attention he had drawn as he went blithely into supper with his cousin on his arm.

Forcing a smile, Mary Kate turned to Ned. “Shall we go in?” The anxious look in his eyes when he agreed told her that he had seen everything, but he made no comment as they followed the others into the great chamber. They found places toward the end of one of the trestle tables, next to a gentleman who was clearly interested in no one other than his dinner partner.

Grateful to be spared the necessity of making polite conversation, Mary Kate nibbled her food without tasting it and expended the better part of her energy in an unsuccessful attempt to suppress her fury. She was aware of Ned’s rapidly increasing nervousness as he cut meat for her that she did not touch and offered dishes that failed to tempt her, and she knew he hoped that she would do nothing to provoke the Douglas temper, but the longer she watched her husband and his cousin laughing and talking at the other end of the long table, the more she wanted to punish them both.

Her opportunity did not arrive until supper was done. But then, while servants swiftly cleared the remains and dismantled the huge tables, the guests moved toward the fireplace where spiced claret was being served. It was not a rowdy gathering while the steaming, ruby-colored liquid was ladled out first for one and then another, but a sufficient number of people were moving about to make it look purely accidental when Mary Kate, turning from the fire with her new-filled mug to find a smiling Lady Somerville directly in front of her, jerked her arm up as though it had been roughly jostled from behind and spewed hot spiced claret down the front of Megan’s lavender silk gown.

Megan cried out in dismay, and a sudden hush fell. Several gloved hands flew to hide smiles, and one slightly inebriated gentleman failed to stifle his chuckle. The sound reached Douglas, and his dark eyes were narrow with suspicion when his gaze fell upon his wife.

Mary Kate presented an affecting portrait of horror and innocent contrition as she hastily offered to assist Lady Somerville in the changing of her gown, but it was Ned Lumsden who eased Douglas’s suspicions and, incidentally, those of one or two others as well.

“My lady, pray forgive my clumsiness!” he exclaimed, striding forward from behind Mary Kate. “My great, oafish feet! Is there aught I can do to atone for ruining your beautiful gown? My handkerchief, perhaps?”

Megan disdained the offer, but Ned had succeeded in turning Douglas’s attention to himself. He withstood the forthcoming low-voiced lecture manfully, thus allowing Mary Kate to make good her escape under a pretense of proffering aid to the victim.

Stiffly, silently, Megan bore with her company until they reached the door to her bedchamber. Her maid waited within, but the window hall was momentarily empty when she turned furiously on Mary Kate. “That was no accident,” she accused shrilly. “You did that deliberately.”

“Did I?” Mary Kate regarded her with sweet innocence.

“Aye, butter wouldn’t melt in your mouth, would it, madam?” Megan said, fuming. “But you had best have a care. Should Adam learn that you did this to me purposely, he would put you across his knee again, quick as winking.” And with that Parthian shot she turned on her heel and disappeared into her bedchamber, slamming the door shut behind her.

K
ATE STARED AT THE
closed door for a full minute before she turned to walk back to the great chamber. Any thought of victory over Lady Somerville was gone, and in its stead was a void caused by the shock of the other young woman’s final words. That Douglas’s father and probably his mother had some awareness of her punishment was one thing, that he had confided the details to his cousin, quite another. But anger did not come. She almost wished it would, wished she had the strength born of anger to return to his side and tell him exactly what she thought of his betrayal. For betrayal it was. That incident had been a private matter between husband and wife. He had no business to discuss it with Lady Somerville.

As she walked dejectedly back into the great chamber, she realized that people were beginning to return to the long gallery, where the musicians had begun to tune up their instruments. The dancing would soon begin again. She glanced around, wondering where her husband was, and had just noted his presence in the midst of a small group of gentlemen near the far door when a cheery voice spoke beside her.