He waited until his old nurse quieted before continuing. “I never received her letters. Did you hear me, Mrs. Ross? Ineverreceived her letters. Not one.”
She stilled, studying him for a long moment. “Did he keep them from you, then?” she whispered and burst into tears.
He gathered her fragile frame into his arms. “There, Mrs. Ross. I know you miss her.” Patting her on the back, he silently cursed his father—the blackguard—for hiding the mail. And himself for never considering the possibility. “Mother wouldn’t want you to be sad.”
“Your mam was like a daughter to me.” She raised her tear-stained face. “A woman isn’t supposed to outlive her children.”
He pulled back and nodded, and they gazed at each other until Kendra shifted on the bed and cleared her throat. “What was she like, Mrs. Ross?”
The old nurse dashed the tears from her wrinkled cheeks and sat herself down. The bulky oak armchair dwarfed her. “She was good. A good woman, Elspeth. She had no easy life.”
Kendra slanted Trick a glance, knowing he didn’t want to hear this, but also knowing he should. “How is it she came to marry the duke?”
“Him.”The woman looked as though she wanted to spit. “King Charles—the first one—arranged the match. Part of his plan to Anglicize Scotland.” She twisted her bony fingers in her lap, her voice going softer, as though it were coming from far away. “And my poor Elspeth was so in love with Hamish Munroe…but her father had never liked the lad. Too common for his tastes. A third son, and a businessman besides, buying flax for the weaving and then selling the cloth. He made a fine living, but Elspeth’s father was the laird, and he expected better for his daughter. The Stuarts had made him an earl, but that didn’t make him English.”
“Of course not,” Kendra said gently, noting that Trick seemed to be studying his bare toes. “My husband told me his grandfather signed the Covenant.”
“Aye, the old earl was a bit of a rebel. It’s in the blood. But still and all, he was happy enough when the king matched his daughter with a duke. He forced poor Elspeth into it.”
Thinking of her own forced marriage, Kendra bit the inside of her cheek. “How?”
“You don’t want to know.” The nurse’s lips pressed tight, and Kendra knew that her brothers’ matchmaking had been nothing like Trick’s grandfather’s. Unlike Elspeth, deep down she knew a small part of her hadwantedto wed Trick. And she also knew her brothers wouldn’t have pushed her into the marriage if that hadn’t been so.
“She was unhappy all her days,” Mrs. Ross continued. “Even after the duke left her alone to reclaim her lost love, she never recovered from the loss of her son.” She brushed at her gray skirts and stood. “Well, I’d best be off about my duties,” she said, looking to Kendra. “Welcome to Duncraven, your grace.”
“My pleasure. I hope we can talk more later.”
“Aye, we can. After we bury my Elspeth.” With a long, miserable sniff and a swish of her skirts, she sailed from the room.
Kendra waited until the door clicked closed behind her, then released a heartfelt sigh. “Oh, how terribly romantic. Doesn’t it give you the shivers?”
“Doesn’t what give me the shivers?” Trick opened a cabinet and began pulling out clean clothes.
“Thinking about Elspeth and Hamish, in love all those years. And finally getting to be together.” While his back was safely turned, she slid from between the sheets and hurried into her chemise. Relieved, she made her way over to look for a suitable gown to wear to a burial. She wondered what would be an appropriate way to wear her hair. She would have to send for Jane to come up and style it. “Now that I’ve heard your mother and Hamish’s story, I’m so glad she invited him to live with her here. Maybe they found a bit of happiness, after all.”
“Maybe my mother sent me letters. But that didn’t make her a good woman.” He shook out a shirt, then stripped off the one he was wearing, a long pull of his muscles as he drew it over his head. Kendra watched, enjoying the view more than she’d be willing to admit. “She was still an adulteress, and a Covenanter, and she betrayed—”
“Did you not hear a word your nurse said about what happened between her and Hamish?” Pulling out a forest-green dress, she sighed and held it up. “This is the darkest thing I brought. Do you suppose I’ll be scorned for not wearing black?” She turned it around and frowned at the low, scooped neckline. “What will Hamish think? I noticed yesterday that the women here wear more on top.”
He blinked at her. “Your top looks fine to me. Niall knows you didn’t come here expecting to attend a funeral. And I cannot imagine why you’d care what anyone else thinks. Hamish, especially.” He put on the clean shirt, then began to unlace his breeches. “I feel sorry for the old man, but that doesn’t mean I like him. He lived in sin with my mother—”
“I suppose, then, that you’ve never bedded a woman without the benefit of wedlock.”
His long fingers fumbled on the laces. “Will you stop interrupting me every time I try to make a point?”
Ignoring that request, she stared at him a long moment, until he lifted his head to meet her gaze. “Well?” she pushed.
“You know very well I was experienced when I took you to my bed.”
Clearly fuming, he remained silent while he hopped on one foot and then the other to remove the breeches. Half annoyed, half amused, her gaze followed the breeches down, but his long shirt covered the interesting parts.
She blushed when he caught her looking, but he only crossed his arms and leveled her with a glare so fierce that, had he been a Gorgon, she would surely have turned to stone. “I’ve already told you I don’t hold with infidelity. I’ve never bedded a married woman.”
“Congratulations. You’re probably the only male member of Charles’s court who can say so.” She dropped the green gown over her head and wiggled it into place. “Hamish and your mother were victims, Trick. They shared a love that lasted decades—a love the thought of which melts me inside. A perfect love, like my own parents’.” Threading the laces across her bodice, she looked up. “How can you think to deny them what little happiness they found?”
“I haven’t the choice to deny or allow it, do I? What’s done is done. That doesn’t mean I have to like it. Or them.”
A knock came at the door, and she yanked her laces tight and reached for her stomacher while he stomped over to answer it.
