“No’ the same thing, Abigail,” he replied. “She is an animal, an’ he loves her as ane. She cannae break his heart.”
Abi looked down at the table glumly. “That is so unfair,” she murmured. “I try to be as good a person as I can be, but even my best is not good enough for him, or ever will be. I may as well run away.”
Rory shook his head firmly. “Naw, Abi,” he said calmly. “Dinnae dae that. He wid miss ye that much.”
“I doubt it!” Her voice was bitter and angry. “I doubt he would even notice I was gone!”
“I’ll tell ye whit,” Rory said kindly. “When ye get sad or lonely come doon tae us. Ye knaw my Agnes can talk the hind legs aff a donkey an’ she can cheer ye up nae bother!”
Rory’s cottage was tucked into a tiny cleft in the valley at the bottom of the hill on which the castle stood. There was a high wall of trees behind it so that the winds never touched it with more than a gentle breeze, and it was always warm, summer and winter.
“Are you sure?” she asked doubtfully. It was certainly a very welcome offer, for she liked Agnes, who was tiny and cheerful with merry brown eyes and a ready laugh.
“Agnes wid love it!” he assured her. “Jist let me knaw afore so she can have soup an’ a bannock on the table for ye!”
“Thank you! Thank you Rory!” Abi gave him a spontaneous hug.
She was glad there was one person that was not scared of her father and that could tell her about him. But she had no idea how to help him regain his happiness.
* scunnered - disgusted
* beelin’ - furious
5
Fraser’s heart was in his mouth as he rode towards Leana’s cottage on a foggy late afternoon when a fine misty rain was falling. He was a big strong man who had fought axe-wielding, pike-brandishing Englishmen with death in their eyes—but he could not fight the feelings this woman had inspired in him.
He had always loved red hair, and hers was a shade so vivid that when the sun shone behind her it looked as if it was ablaze. Her eyes were as green as the gooseberries that grew wild on the hillsides in places, and he had daydreams about kissing her full lips, which he knew would be soft, warm, and mobile. He dared not even think about her breasts and the rest of her body in case his arousal caused him to weaken before her. It had happened to better men than he, he was sure. No woman since Ishbel had affected him this way.
Thinking of Ishbel, he knew inside why he worked so hard, tiring himself out, and became so angry. When he had first become a widower, he was a sought-after commodity. He was still handsome and wealthy, and he was still young, but he had proved that he could sire children and was an experienced lover. And tragedy was very romantic.
Every young woman wanted to mend a broken heart, but the more they threw themselves at him the less inclined he was to marry any of them. Their desperate desire for marriage did not heighten his eagerness, and anyway, he had been fortunate enough to find love for the first time and would accept nothing less.
He had given himself the excuse that he was coming for the rent because he had forgotten it the last time in all the tumult, and this was true, but deep down he knew he was lying to himself. He wanted to see her again simply because he found her attractive—no, desirable—but that was not love, and he hardly knew her.
Now the little thatched cottage was coming into view, and he urged Annie into a trot. He would have gone faster, but he did not want to betray his eagerness. But was he eager? He felt torn in two; he hoped she was there because he wanted to see her, but he hoped she was not because he was scared to make an utter fool of himself. He rode up to the house and tied Annie up, then went inside and knocked at the door.
He heard a faint shuffling inside which became louder just before the door opened, and the stooped figure of Joe stood there with an expression of astonishment on his face.
“M’Laird!” he exclaimed, his expression suddenly turning to fright. “Have ye come aboot the rent?”
Fraser was relieved and disappointed at the same time. Leana would not be here to see him if he made a spectacle of himself at least.
“I have,” he answered.
“I will get it, sir,” Joe answered, turning away.
“Nae need, Paw!” said a woman’s voice from inside. “I have it here!”
Then Leana appeared from inside the door and the words that he was going to say died in his throat as he looked at her, stunned again by her beauty.
Her voice was calm and pleasant as she spoke to him. “Good morning, M’Laird.” She curtsied and handed him a little pouch which jingled with coins. “Here is the rent. ‘Tis all there, down to the last groat.” She began to close the door, but he flattened his hand against it to stop her.
She looked at him with a question in her eyes, and Fraser cleared his throat awkwardly. He felt almost helpless in front of her, then he reminded himself who was in charge, and squared his shoulders. He was eight inches taller than she was and stood very close to her so that she had to tilt her head back to see him but he did not step back, and neither did she invite him in.
“I wanted to discuss something else with you,” he said, frowning.
Her expression became inquiring. “Yes, M’Laird?” she asked.
