The Heiress Bride (30 page)

“Why, certainly they know.”

“How could they let them come alone? No, I don't want to know the tale, it would likely grizzle my hair.”

Colin stepped toward the fire and began to strip off his clothes. He was very aware that his wife was looking at him, he could
feel
her looking at him.

He said, “I think Alex is imprudent to have come here. It is a great many miles and it's early days yet. I wouldn't ever want you to risk losing a child with such foolishness. When you are pregnant you will do as I tell you.”

Sinjun just smiled at his back, knowing she would do just as she pleased, and willed him to turn around and face her. She wanted to see him, all of him. He was naked now and she stared at the long line of his back, his buttocks, his legs. He was perfect, no doubt about that. She couldn't imagine another man in the world looking as he did.

“Colin?” Her voice sounded hoarse to herself.

“Yes?” he said slowly, turning to face her now, knowing, she thought, just knowing what she was thinking and wanting.

She swallowed. She stared and she wished he would remain there for another hour or so. Perhaps she could take up painting and he could agree to pose for her. She wondered if he would agree to such a ruse.

“Yes, Joan?”

“Will you sleep with me tonight? Hold me?”

“Oh yes. I know you enjoy that. It doesn't threaten you, does it? I will even kiss you and you do like that very very much.”

He walked to the bed, knowing she wanted to look at him and allowing it. Her fascination amused him and, truthfully, pleased him inordinately. It was splendid for a wife to admire her husband,
yes indeed. He heard her suck in her breath and he frowned. He looked at himself. Under her gaze, his sex had aroused itself with predictable enthusiasm, and now she was afraid. Well, what did she expect—that he would shrivel?

Damnation. He wanted her to be well again, quickly. This nonsense of hers was irritating to his nerves.

“You will stay home now, Colin?”

“Yes, as I told you, since MacPherson is here now, causing more trouble, I must deal with him here. And I will, Joan—without any help from you. Also it appears I must protect you from Aunt Arleth.”

“I appreciate that, Colin.”

He climbed into bed with her and she willingly came into his arms. They lay on their sides, facing each other, their noses nearly touching.

“You still have your bloody nightgown on.”

“Perhaps it best stay on.”

“You're probably right, damn you.” He kissed her mouth, then grinned. “Open up, Joan. You've forgotten what I taught you. No, not like a fish or an opera singer. That's right. Ah, yes. Give me your tongue.”

He wanted her very much and if he wasn't mistaken she wasn't at all averse to his continuing with his mouth and with his hands, but he knew she was still weak, not at all up to snuff, and he didn't want her to become ill again. He kissed the tip of her nose and gently pressed her cheek down to his shoulder as he turned onto his back. It was damned difficult but he did it. He felt at the height of his nobility. She gave a small gasp of disappointment and tried to kiss him again.

“No, Joan, I don't wish to tire you. Hush, that's right. Just relax now. I'll hold you, that's all. Was Philip right? Did Aunt Arleth really try to kill you?”

Sinjun was nearly stuttering with lust. She was trembling against him, trying to control herself, but it wasn't easy. She had very little experience in turning off the spigot, so to speak. She wanted to kiss him until she couldn't breathe. She wanted her hands all over his body. She wanted to kiss his belly, his sex, take him into her mouth again. Ah, but it was difficult to simply stop, to simply forget that he was against her, his body hot and hard and fitted against hers so perfectly. She strained against him, unable to help herself. Her hand fisted over his belly. Slowly, very slowly, she flattened her hand over his stomach and felt the heat and hardness of him, and the crispy hair lower on his groin.

Colin closed his eyes and bit his lip. “No, Joan. Hold still, you must really, sweetheart. Move your hand before you make me very uncomfortable. Please, answer my question.”

She realized then, vaguely, that he was also trying to control himself, and she supposed she appreciated his concern with her illness, but she would rather take her chances with another fever. Her fingers moved lower, just touching him now. He jerked away from her. He was bent on nobility. She sighed, then said, “She didn't come right out and force poison down my throat, but she wanted me to die, no doubt about that. She even opened the windows to assist me to my eternal reward. After you came, she found me alone once and spoke to me about how she would use a pillow to smother me. She then decided it wasn't the way to do it, it was too obvious. She said that I had ruined everything, that I would make her life even more miserable. There were so many things she said on that day, Colin, so many things she's said at other times, and things I've found out about during
your absence.” She told him about the kelpie ramblings, how she'd forced Mrs. Seton to keep the castle filthy, how Colin's father wasn't really his father, rather it was the kelpie demon, and the laird had loved her, Arleth, not her sister, who was a fool and evil. Colin asked many questions, but it was confusing. Finally, though, when she was too exhausted to speak another word, he said, kissing her left temple, “I will see to it that she is removed from Vere Castle. She is a danger to herself and to us. Lord knows what she could do to the children were her mind to snap in another direction. Odd that I've never before noticed her strangeness, just her dislike of me—obvious enough, of course—and I paid no heed to that.

“Sleep now. Please, move your hand upward. Yes, that's right. My chest is not such a dangerous place.”

She smiled against his shoulder. Nothing could happen to her with him here. As to something happening to him, she would do what she had to do. He could rant and be as lordly and autocratic as he pleased, but it would make no difference. He had no chance against the three sisters-in-law.

No chance at all.

D
OUGLAS AND
R
YDER
didn't appear at Vere Castle at the crack of dawn, much to the wives' combined relief and chagrin. At eight o'clock that morning, in the laird's bedchamber, Sophie finally voiced her worry. “But where are they? Do you think they've been hurt, Alex?”

“Oh, no, I don't believe so,” Alex said, her brow lowering. “I'm beginning to think they're angry and not coming. It's a lesson. Douglas is tired of trying to have his way and only succeeding half the time, and thus he's punishing me with his absence.”

Sinjun looked from one to the other and started to laugh. There were two identical expressions of outrage but she couldn't stop laughing. “I can't believe the two of you—you sound as if you want them to come this very instant.”

“Oh no!”

“How absurd!”

Sinjun looked from one glum face to the other. “Did either of you brilliant sweetings bother to leave a note as to where you were bound?”

Alex looked at Sinjun as if she were a half-wit and gave her a disdainful shrug that would have done Douglas proud. “Why, naturally I told him where I was going! What kind of a person do you
think I am? I would never want to worry Douglas.”

“And what did you write to Douglas?”

“Ah . . . that I was off to see Sophie. Oh damn.”

Sinjun turned a twinkling eye to Sophie, who was now frowning ferociously down at her pale green slippers. “And you? Did you tell Ryder where you and Alex were bound?”

Very slowly, eyes still firmly on her feet, Sophie shook her head. “I just wrote to him that we were going to do a bit of sightseeing in the Cotswolds and that I would write him to tell him when we would return.”

“Oh, Sophie, you didn't!” Alex threw a pillow at her. “I can't believe you didn't tell him the truth. What were you thinking, for God's sake?”

“Well, Alex, you did no better!” Sophie rounded on her and threw the pillow back, striking her magnificent bosom. “You only told part of the truth because you were the first leg of the deception, so to speak. You didn't have to lie like I did.”

“You should have realized that there was no need for a lie! You should have thought, but you didn't think, you—”

“Don't you dare call me stupid!”

“I didn't call you stupid, but if the glove fits—”

“That's enough from both of you,” Sinjun said, trying desperately not to laugh. Alex's splendid bosom was heaving; Sophie was red in the face, her hands fisted at her sides.

It was Alex who said finally, her voice reeking of catastrophe, “What are we going to do?”

Sinjun didn't crack that smile; the laughter was no longer bubbling up in her throat. She said very firmly, “Ryder and Douglas will figure it out quickly enough. I know they will. If it makes you feel better, then both of you write letters to them right this instant and I will have one of our stable lads
go to Edinburgh with them. I don't believe it's necessary, though.”

“That will take forever!”

“It isn't necessary,” Sinjun repeated. “Now, trust me. I promise that both husbands will be here before too much longer. Indeed, I still hold to Friday, no later. Would the two of you like to shake hands now and we'll get on with the business at hand?”

Sinjun realized she felt quite good as she watched her sisters-in-law continue to grumble at each other even as they hugged. Yes, she felt stronger than she had the day before. Not up to full snuff yet, but she was clearheaded and her brain was functioning quite well. She didn't feel wilted any longer.

They discussed their plan until Sinjun, at least, was pleased, and all the consequences she could think of were covered. Sophie and Alex didn't like the plan but Sinjun convinced them it was the only way. “Would you prefer that I just shoot him and toss his body in the loch?” she'd said, and that had shut down most of their objections. She'd written her letter the afternoon before and had Ostle brought to her. Him, she had sworn to secrecy. Pray God he would keep mum about what he'd done.

Sinjun looked from one sister-in-law to the other. “Now, we will act this morning. We can't take the chance that we'll have another day. You may not have faith in Douglas and Ryder, but I do.”

Both Alex and Sophie had brought pocket pistols. Both knew how to shoot, not as well as Sinjun, but well enough. The sight of the pistols brought their feet firmly to the ground.

“The Virgin Bride said trouble, Sinjun,” Alex said. “We're not stupid, no matter we didn't think of
everything.
Or
write
everything. Now, where's your pistol?”

Sinjun drew the small pistol from beneath her pillow. “I'm strong enough for us to do it this morning. I will ensure that Colin is off doing something else and not paying any attention to either of you or to me. I'll manage it somehow. Now come here and listen carefully.”

Getting rid of Colin wasn't as easy as Sinjun had hoped it would be. Finally, at her wits' end, she played the invalid and began to cough pitiably, bending over and clutching at her ribs as she coughed and coughed. She had the headache, too, of course, a pounding pain over her left eye. Ah, and she could barely catch her breath. She did it well, her eyes even tearing as the raw scraping coughs came from her throat. She even managed some convincing shudders.

“Damn, I thought you were so much better,” Colin said, his big hands rubbing up and down her back as he cradled her against him. It was he who insisted on riding himself for the physician Childress, but not before he gained both Alex's and Sophie's promises not to leave her. An easy promise to make and to keep. Talk about guilt, Sinjun was about ready to sink with it at his show of concern, but she knew she had to hold a steady course, they all did.

If men weren't so bloody intractable, she thought, but it was an absurd wish.

“I feel just excellent,” Sinjun said in reply to Alex as she dressed quickly in one of her riding habits, a blue serge that was shiny with age and wear. “I'll probably be as weak as a sick goat later, but for now everything's fine. Don't worry, you two. We must take care of this before the husbands arrive. No, don't glare at each other. They will come, and soon.”

“Where are you going?”

It was Philip. He strode into the bedchamber, paying no heed to either Sophie or Alex, and walked straight to Sinjun, stopping and staring at her, his hands on his hips, a stance just like his father's. “Where are you going?” he asked again. “You're wearing a riding habit, not a nightgown. Papa won't be pleased, Sinjun. Nor am I.”

Sinjun wanted to ruffle his hair but restrained herself. She contented herself with giving him a small smile. “I'm just taking your two new aunts about the grounds. I feel quite good, Philip, and I will be careful. As soon as I tire I'll come back to bed.”

“Where is Father?”

“He's doubtless with Mr. Seton going over accounts or perhaps visiting the crofters. He was gone for three weeks and there is much that requires his lordly attention. You didn't ask him?”

“I wasn't downstairs when he left. Dahling was throwing a tantrum and trying to bite Dulcie's leg. I had to protect Dulcie.”

“Well, whilst I'm being an excellent hostess, why don't you keep watch on Aunt Arleth for me.”

His eyes lit up. “Yes,” he said. “I'll do that, but Sinjun, don't tire yourself, all right?”

“I promise.” She watched Philip leave the bedchamber and felt the knife of guilt turning in her innards. “I hated doing that, but he's just as protective as his papa.”

“You're a wonderful actress, Sinjun,” Alex said as they slipped down the back servants' stairs. “I've never been that good.”

“I hate it, but it had to be done,” Sinjun said on a sigh. “Ah, the guilt. But I must keep Colin safe. He will know how important it is to me. He will understand, if, that is, he ever discovers what we did.”

“Your optimism is built on sand, my dear,” Sophie said. “He's a man. I shouldn't hold my breath were I you. Understanding isn't a virtue men necessarily cultivate, particularly if it relates to a wife.”

“Sophie's right,” Alex said. “If Colin does find out, and in my experience husbands usually discover
everything
you don't want them to know about, he will feel enraged and worried to his toes because you might have been hurt; and being a man, he would naturally blame you for worrying him. It all makes sense to them. Strange, but it does.”

“A man can't accept that there is anything he can't do,” Sophie continued. “If his wife succeeds where he can't, why, he'll be so furious he'll spit nails. And he'll blame her for succeeding.”

“I know,” Sinjun said on a deep sigh. “I'm married now and I realize well enough that Colin is no different from Douglas and Ryder. He shouts and yells and carries on until I want to cosh him. But surely he will understand that he's left me no choice but to do what I must.”

“Ha,” said Alex.

“Ha, ha,” said Sophie.

“That is if he ever finds out.”

“You're dreaming,” said Alex.

“More a drunken fantasy,” said Sophie.

The three ladies were lost in gloomy thoughts until they reached the stables. Sinjun spotted Ostle and ordered Fanny and two horses for the other ladies.

“I dinna like this, m'lady,” he said once, and then again and once more. “It bain't be right.”

“You will hold your tongue, Ostle,” Sinjun said with such force that her sisters-in-law stared at her. “Now, you will ride to Edinburgh today as soon as we're gone and make the other inquiries. It's
critical that you don't let anyone know what you're about. It's critical that you return as quickly as possible. And you must contrive to see me alone. Do you understand me, Ostle?”

He was miserably unhappy, but he nodded, the sweet guineas piled thick in his pocket, tipping the scales against telling the laird what was up.

Unfortunately, due to the depletion of the Kinross stables, there was only one other mare suitable for a lady to ride.

“Very well,” Sinjun said after a moment. “I'll ride Argyll, Sophie will take Fanny, and Alex, I'm sorry, but you will have to ride Carrot.”

Carrot, a very docile swaybacked mare of ten years, looked at Alex, blew loudly, and nodded her long head.

“We'll do,” Alex said. A horsewoman of some renown, she was delighted.

“Er, m'lady, Argyll bain't be in a sporting mood t'day, nay, he bain't. His lordship was going t' ride him, saw that he was nastiness hisself, and rode Gulliver instead. Nay mere than ten minutes ago his lordship left.”

Gulliver was the bay Colin kept in Edinburgh. Gulliver was the bay he rode back with Philip because he'd been so worried about her. She gulped and said, “Well, nasty or not, it's Argyll for me. Ten minutes, hmmm. Do hurry, Ostle, and don't worry, all will be well.”

She'd never before ridden Colin's stallion—lord, she thought as she swung up on his broad back, he could outrace the rain in a storm. She prayed Colin wouldn't notice he was missing. But if he did, it wouldn't matter. He wouldn't know which direction they'd taken. Ostle wouldn't be here to question. She drew a deep breath and dug her heels into Argyll's muscled sides.

Short minutes later they were galloping smoothly down the long tree-lined drive of Kinross Castle, the summer air warm and soft on their faces, slivers of bright sunlight slicing through the dense canopy of green leaves overhead.

“It is so beautiful here,” Sophie said, craning back to see the castle on its rise at the end of the long drive.

“Yes,” said Sinjun, and gulped. “Colin said one of his ancestors—the one who is painted naked—planted all the trees. They're very lovely. Of course, there aren't any gardens like yours at Northcliffe, Alex.”

“Perhaps not, but these trees. I shall do it at Northcliffe Hall,” Alex said. “What do you think—pines and birches and oaks?”

Sinjun knew both of them were scared to death of her plan and scared for her. Alex was babbling about trees; Sophie was looking grim as a defeated general, staring straight between her Fanny's ears. Sinjun said nothing. She was set on her course. She directed them immediately off the narrow road. No tracks for Colin to follow if he happened to be in this exact spot and so inclined.

They rode steadily, not speaking now, staying close to Sinjun's stallion, Argyll, who seemed pleased as could be to have her on his back. Not a bit of trouble did he cause her, which was fortunate, because Sinjun didn't want to deplete her store of strength on a damned recalcitrant horse.

Sinjun called for them to halt in another mile. They were near the barren Craignure Moor. “The MacPherson castle—St. Monance—is but seven miles, over this desolate stretch, then into the Aviemore Hills. I know a short way around—I asked Ostle. We'll be there in an hour. Are both of you ready for this? Are you certain?”

“I don't like it at all, Sinjun,” Sophie said, “and neither does Alex. There must be another way. It was easier to talk about and agree to than it is now, actually doing it. It's dangerous. Anything could happen.”