Forgetting the Scot Read online

  “Magnus, you say?” Lucy’s response sounded like an accusation.

  “Yes. You knew Magnus drove us to Wick.” Virginia focused on Jemma who was inspecting the inside of one of Hercules’s long floppy ears. It was everything she could do to keep from scooping the child up and cuddling her.

  “Ginny, are you in love with Magnus?”

  She cast a horrified look at Lucy. “Whatever makes you ask such a thing?”

  Both of Lucy’s eyebrows reached for her hairline. “You didn’t answer me.”

  “I didn’t answer you because it was a cheeky question and doesn’t deserve an answer.”

  “Then answer me this: why haven’t you written to your husband?”

  Haddie entered the parlor with a basket of peat to refresh the fire. “Leave that, Haddie,” Lucy said. “Would you be a dear and entertain Jemma for a while?”

  “Come along, a nighean.” Haddie scooped Jemma off the floor and hoisted her onto a narrow hip. “Let’s go see the pony.”

  After Haddie and Jemma exited with Hercules trailing behind, Lucy rose and closed the door. “It’s just you and me, my friend. It’s time you told me why you haven’t written Langley.”

  She feigned an injured look. “Are you in a hurry to get rid of me?”

  “Stop it, Ginny.” There was a stern edge in Lucy’s voice. One that said she’d run out of patience. “Stop pretending like nothing is wrong and then acting like everything is wrong.”

  Virginia clasped her hands in her lap and twisted them until her knuckles turned white. “I told you why and you didn’t believe me.”

  “I’ve been thinking about that.” Lucy leaned back in her chair and folded her arms under her bosom. After a moment of quiet she said, “I was remembering the months before I came to Scotland to marry Alex. I was miserable when I found out you and Langley were engaged. I thought I was unhappy because he didn’t love me. The truth was, I was humiliated he didn’t want to marry me. You see, I had told Caroline Humphrey I expected Langley to propose, and Caroline told everyone what a ninny I had been. I was the laughingstock of the Ton for a while.” She smiled her embarrassment.

  “I don’t remember that at all.” She didn’t. But then, she’d never been anyone’s confidante.

  “Perhaps I imagined things were worse than they really were. I behaved very childishly about the whole thing. Anyway, the point is, I remember my brother George, in a rare moment of civility, telling me not to regret the loss of Langley. I believe his words were, ‘Langley is not a good fellow. He’s a rather despicable person, to be honest.’”

  How she wished she had had an older brother to warn her off Langley.

  Lucy continued, “At the time, I thought George was lying to me so that I would feel better. It occurs to me now that George was telling me the truth. He wanted me to know how fortunate I was to be rid of the man. Was he telling the truth, Ginny? Is Lord Langley a despicable person?”

  Lucy’s inquisitive gaze roamed over Virginia’s face. She did her best not to show the panic she was feeling inside. But why? Why hide the truth? What was the use? At last, she whispered, “He’s a monster.”

  Lucy threw her arms around her, and Virginia wept on her shoulder. Big, gasping, gulping sobs. The truth was out. Someone knew. Someone believed her. She wasn’t alone.

  “There now, darling,” Lucy said, squeezing her tighter and rubbing her back, comforting her like she would a child. “No need to worry anymore. Alex will know what to do.”

  Virginia pulled away. “No. You mustn’t tell anyone. It’s…it’s too humiliating.”

  “Nonsense,” Lucy said, lowering her chin and taking on the demeanor of a schoolmistress. “If Langley is mistreating you, it’s he who should be ashamed, not you.”

  “But—”

  “I can assure you, if we explain the situation to Alex and Laird John, they will be able to find a reasonable solution.”

  “I have a solution. I’m going back.” She sniffed and set her weeping to rest. Lucy retrieved a handkerchief from her sleeve, and Virginia used it to dab her eyes while she continued. “I’m returning to London, but I’m not going back to Langley. Not ever. I plan to live with my aunt Mina at the St. James house.”

  “Will Langley allow you to live on your own?”

  “Think about it, Lucy. Imagine how I’ll be received when I return. Do you really think the Ton will believe those pirates left me alone? I’m ruined just by having spent time on the ship, and Langley is ruined by association. We won’t be welcome in any respectable homes in London. No one will want to sit across the supper table from the woman who’d been had by every sailor on board the pirate ship. I mean, imagine what people will say.”

  “But you weren’t—”

  “The truth doesn’t matter to those people. They would much rather believe salacious gossip than truth. You know that.” By the look on Lucy’s face, she had made her point. She settled back in her chair.

  “But the Bromley estate, your father’s fortune, your title, you’d turn your back on all of that?”

  “Bromley Hall is a big, cold, rundown, unhappy house. I’m left alone there most of the time, and I’m embarrassed to admit the servants don’t respect me. I hate London Society, all those wicked gossips. I have absolutely no use for my title. And, according to his solicitors, my father’s estate is worth nothing.” She reached for Lucy’s hand. “I have only one ambition, and that is to make good on a promise I made to myself and to another. I’m going to build a home for orphaned children.”

  “That’s very noble of you. Where?”

  “In Spitalfields.”

  Lucy’s wide expression of surprise subtly transformed to one of concern. “Spitalfields?” She exhaled in horror.

  “That’s where it’s needed most. So many children die of neglect when they could be spared if they had proper food, a proper home, a place where they could learn a trade.”

  “I believe you. You don’t need to convince me. It’s a worthy cause I’m sure—”

  “I had planned to use my trust money, but Langley took it. All of it. I have to get that money back. It’s mine. My father left it for me. If I can just—”

  Lucy gave her hand a reassuring pat. “Let’s sort out how we’ll get you safely home first, shall we?”

  “Yes. Of course. I’m getting ahead of myself, as usual. Besides, I haven’t heard back from my solicitor as yet.”

  She’d probably let too much spill. The home for foundlings must sound fantastical to Lucy. No mind. If the Sinclairs couldn’t help her, she’d find a way. Somehow, she’d find a way.

  “Do you know what, Virginia?” Lucy gifted her a sweet dimpled smile. “I think I’ll have another sweetie. Just one.”

  Chapter Five

  It rained every day for the next two weeks. Virginia had started to feel caged again, suffocating indoors with only needlework and idle chatter to keep her occupied. When at last the skies cleared, she and Lucy and Charlotte set out after breakfast for what Mother Flora called a ballag buachair hunt.

  “What is a bah-lack-boo-aggggar hunt?” Charlotte attempted to reproduce the guttural Gaelic sound and failed.

  “We’re going to look for mushrooms.”

  Charlotte made a face. “I don’t fancy mushrooms.”

  “Too bad.” Lucy handed Charlotte a basket. “Laird John loves them.”

  “Doesn’t he have ‘people’ for that?”

  “Yes. He has three beautiful young English women living in his home just for that purpose.”

  Watching the two beats Charlotte took to sort out Lucy’s sarcasm was more amusing than Lucy’s quip.

  “Ha-ha,” Charlotte said dryly.

  Armed with baskets, sun bonnets, small knives, and gloves, they walked along a narrow path toward a wooded area. Lucy, having been on a ballag buachair hunt before, took the lead with Virginia close at her heels. Charlotte lagged behind, finding the wild flowers and butterflies more interesting.

  “Aren’t some mushrooms
terribly poisonous?” Virginia asked.

  “We’re not looking for the poisonous kind,” Lucy said. “We’re looking for the nonpoisonous kind.”

  “Do you know what the nonpoisonous kind look like?”

  “Oh, yes,” she said with certainty. A moment later, she added, “Well, I can be relatively certain about the morels, but Mrs. Swenson will sort through our baskets when we get back. She wouldn’t let us eat anything poisonous.” Lucy paused and made a sound of exasperation. “Charlotte, will you hurry up.”

  Charlotte was a good twenty yards behind them looking eastward shading her eyes. Her hand shot up in the air. A glance in the direction of her wave, and Virginia saw Alex and Magnus riding through the field. Her heart stuttered. Magnus’s hair had come unbound. He looked magnificent riding the huge horse he called Finbar. Like some ancient Highland warrior.

  Alex headed for Lucy like a magnet to true north. Magnus paused in front of Charlotte and a pang of jealousy shot through her. Their shared experience aboard the Tigress had bonded them for life, but in the same way sisters could love and hate each other, she resented Charlotte’s preening for Magnus and she took exception with the way he smiled back from atop Finbar.

  The back of her shoulders burned. Had she not obtained her spectacles, she would have been spared this scene. Perhaps the attraction between Magnus and Charlotte had always been there and she’d literally been blind to it. Or perhaps Magnus flirted equally with all women. Good-looking men wielded their attractiveness just as well as beautiful women.

  She turned away and continued toward the forest to give the two love-couples their privacy. A few moments later, a horse clopped up from behind. When she turned, Magnus swung a long leg over Finbar’s back and hopped to the ground. He crossed the twenty feet or so to meet her.

  “Good morning, Viscountess,” he said. He didn’t favor her with the same sunny smile he had given Charlotte. There was a hesitation in his voice, too. “Are you well?” he asked.

  “Yes, thank you.”

  “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you last and…and…”

  She tilted her head, encouraging him to continue.

  “And I had been wondering if you were well and so that’s why I asked.”

  The corners of her mouth turned up. Magnus was stammering like a boy in his teens. “You’ve been thinking about me all this time?”

  He flashed a bright smile and the rogue returned. “Oh, aye. Every day. All day.” He lowered his voice and added, “All night, too.”

  Virginia sucked in a sudden breath. He was flirting. With her.

  Alex called to him, “Cousin, stop your havering and let’s go.”

  “Sorry,” Magnus said. “We’ve work to do. Can I see you tomorrow? A walk after supper maybe?”

  “If you like.”

  He vaulted into his saddle like an acrobat and flashed her one last grin, before clicking his tongue and galloping away with Alex.

  She stood staring after him until Lucy and Charlotte reached her.

  “What did Magnus have to say?” Lucy asked. Both women wore faces indicating they’d already made some sort of judgment about Magnus’s conversation with her.

  “He wanted to know if I was well.”

  “He must have said something else.” Charlotte gave her a sideways glance.

  “Why ever would you think that?” She batted away a cloud of midges.

  “He took off on his horse like a man who’d stolen a kiss,” Lucy said. “And you should know that every time you answer a question with another question, you give yourself away.”

  “What do you mean, I give myself away—Damn and bollocks.” She stormed toward the forest leaving Lucy and Charlotte to their laughter.

  Hours later, their baskets were still empty. They had scoured the forest floor without success.

  “I don’t understand. I found so many in this area of the wood last year. It’s a little past the best time for them, but the weather is right. It’s three days after the rain.”

  “I might have more success if I knew what I was looking for,” Virginia said.

  “They look sort of like wrinkly penises.”

  “And you eat them?” Charlotte gasped, thoroughly scandalized.

  “I said they look like penises. They are absolutely delicious fried with butter and onions.”

  Charlotte’s whole body shuddered.

  Virginia spotted something white hiding under a leaf near the base of a tree trunk. “I found something.”

  Lucy and Charlotte came to look.

  “No. That’s not it. Morels come in light and dark brown. Never white. And they’re often found near a dead elm tree.”

  “Which ones are the elm trees?”

  “Not sure,” Lucy said, gazing up at the forest canopy. “Just look for dead trees, ones without leaves.”

  About a quarter of an hour later, Charlotte cried out, “I found one. No, two. Five. Six. I found them all!”

  Virginia arrived at her side first. “Where?”

  Charlotte bent and pointed to a jumble of dead leaves.

  “I don’t see anything.”

  “Right here.”

  If Charlotte hadn’t put her finger on the fleshy brown thing, she would have missed it altogether.

  “And there’s another one. And there’s four more over there.”

  Once pointed out, the invisible suddenly became obvious. Charlotte had found the mother lode.

  “Well done, Charlotte,” Lucy said. “Step carefully. You don’t want to trod on any by mistake. Cut them clean off at the base, and leave the root in the ground.”

  After locating the boon, Charlotte’s attitude toward mushrooms took a decidedly positive turn. In fact, her enthusiasm for the hunt became feverish. She left Virginia and Lucy to finish the harvest and moved deeper into the forest to search for more.

  “Don’t wander out of sight,” Lucy called. “It’s easy to get lost, and we don’t want to be separated.”

  Charlotte called back without turning. “Stop worrying.”

  After what seemed like an hour of toiling, bent over like a field hand, Virginia straightened and massaged her back. “Do you ever miss England?”

  Lucy stood. “Yes, of course. I miss Papa and Nounou Phillipa. She was my nurse.” She laughed to herself. “I even miss my brother George, though he was a terrible tease.”

  “What about your friends? You must have had many.”

  “I had only one good friend and counted myself lucky at that. I named our Jemma after her. Jemima Huntington. Did you know her? She married Lord Ellington.”

  “I seem to recall something about that. He was much older, was he not?”

  “Ancient. Poor girl. She hasn’t answered any of my letters for quite some time. I hope she is well.”

  “My basket is full.” Virginia glanced around. “Where’s Charlotte?”

  Lucy stood and called in the direction they had last seen Charlotte. No answer. “Merde. Come on. Let’s go find her. But don’t leave my sight. I don’t want us all getting lost.”

  The woods got denser and darker as they headed west. She and Lucy continued to call Charlotte’s name. Fear that she may have been stolen again was first to gnaw at her imagination. Then images of Charlotte bloodied by the tusk of a wild boar, or writhing in agony after being bitten by a viper, or hopelessly lost and dying of hunger and exposure.

  “Charlotte!” Her shout sounded shrill with panic.

  “There she is.” Lucy pointed to a spot where slivers of sunshine peeked through the tree trunks. “I see her yellow gown.”

  They picked their way toward the edge of the forest. Charlotte was standing statue still in the middle of a clearing with her back to them.

  “Why doesn’t she answer us?” Virginia asked.

  They stopped calling her name, sensing the need to be quiet. The only reason for Charlotte’s stillness could be danger. They paused at the clearing edge before creeping into the light.

  Lucy said in almo
st a whisper, “We’re right behind you, Charlotte.”

  Virginia thought she heard Charlotte respond with, “Wolf.”

  Few things about the dark forest frightened Virginia more than wolves. Every villain in every childhood fairy tale was a wolf. Wolves were the devil in disguise.

  “Nonsense, Charlotte,” Lucy said in the same voice she used to comfort Jemma. “There are no wolves in Scotland. Alex said they disappeared a hundred years ago.”

  She and Lucy reached Charlotte’s side and flanked her.

  Charlotte remained still, lifting only her chin to indicate the opposite edge of the clearing. “Then what do you call that?”

  A dog-like creature, gray and lean and looking half-starved, watched them with light, almost white-blue eyes. It was most definitely a wolf, about fifteen yards away, close enough it could pounce on them in a few leaps and bounds.

  She had to remind herself to breathe.

  “Back away slowly, but don’t take your eyes off it,” Lucy said.

  She tried to make her legs work. Nothing. Her body wouldn’t move. She’d heard of people frozen with fear, but she’d always thought they were exaggerating.

  “Virginia,” Lucy whispered. “Back away with us. Now.”

  Still she couldn’t move, or speak, or take her eyes off the blue-eyed demon.

  Then, the oddest thing happened. The demon’s tail started to wag. Did wolves wag their tails?

  Eyes blinking in the sunlight, the wolf opened its mouth and panted, letting his tongue loll out one side, making it look even more like a dog.

  She felt a tug on the back of her gown.

  “Come on. Let’s go now,” Lucy demanded.

  The wolf lifted its head, took one last look, then turned and disappeared into the trees.

  They hitched up their skirts and ran. All three of them. Lucy in the lead. Virginia prayed Lucy knew where she was going. They ran, leaping over fallen tree trunks, dodging pine branches, catching their hems on prickly things.

  At last, Lucy called, “We’re almost there. We’re almost there.”