One Night with the Laird. Nicola Cornick
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reports from the trustees of all the various charities that Archie had set up. While his inheritance had been rich beyond the dreams of avarice, his generosity had been equal to it. He had been desperate to use the money to do good; there were almshouses for the indigent elderly, an orphanage, a cholera hospital, so many good deeds and good works that Mairi’s head swam whenever she tried to keep track of them all. She was the custodian of Archie’s inheritance now, though, and she had to be worthy of it. She had to continue his good work.
At the bottom of the pile was one last letter, written in terse legal terminology. It was from Michael Innes, the heir to the MacLeod barony. Mairi read the letter through once a little carelessly and a second time with a growing sense of irritation. It stated that Innes was bringing a case to court to prove that Mairi was an unsuitable chatelaine of the late Archibald MacLeod’s estates. He claimed to have evidence of her lax financial management and her personal immorality. He would be laying this before the courts and petitioning for all the late Archibald MacLeod’s holdings to pass to him.
Mairi allowed the letter to drift down onto the desk. It was not the first time that Michael Innes had threatened to take her to court. He had resented Archie’s inheritance from the first and had always insisted that it should have been subsumed into the main MacLeod estate because he believed it was impossible for a woman to administer such a huge inheritance without a husband’s guidance. Mairi knew he was motivated by spite and greed. Now, though, a line at the bottom of the letter caught her eye and she paused to reread it for a third time.
You may be sure that I will not hesitate to expose all the old scandals in the pursuit of truth.
A ripple of unease passed down Mairi’s spine. She rubbed her eyes. They felt dry and gritty. Her head felt heavy as though it were full of sand. She tried to think.
I will not hesitate to expose all the old scandals...
Her father-in-law had worked very hard to make sure that those scandals would never be revealed. Mairi could not believe that Michael Innes knew anything of them. No one did. Only she and Lord MacLeod knew the truth in its entirety. Or so she had thought. But that was the trouble with secrets. You could never be completely sure that they were safe.
Mairi’s head ached suddenly, so sharply she bit her lip. She did not know what to do. There was no one to share her burden but Lord and Lady MacLeod. Archie had wrought devastation on their lives as surely as he had torn hers apart and there was not a moment when she did not seek to make up for that.
She sat irresolute for a minute and then picked up her pen. She knew she had to write to her father-in-law to tell him of this latest threat. He could not be left in ignorance. She felt sick as she started to write the letter. The old laird was too frail and too ill to be troubled with such matters these days, but she needed his wise counsel and there was no one else she could trust.
A moment later, there was a knock at the door and Frazer entered with a large dish of tea on a silver tray. Mairi moved her papers aside and Frazer placed it carefully on the desk. All Frazer’s movements were precise and ordered.
“I thought you might require some refreshment, madam,” he said.
“Thank you,” Mairi said, smiling at him. “I do. These accounts make my head hurt.”
“I meant as treatment for the shock, madam,” Frazer said.
“Ah,” Mairi said. Her smile broadened at Frazer’s austere expression. The steward was a strict Presbyterian and he never hesitated to make his disapproval known. She suspected that he considered it a part of his duties to try to keep her on the straight and narrow. “I collect you are referring to Mr. Rutherford,” she said. “I fear my sins have found me out.”
“Quite so, madam,” Frazer said, with no flicker of a smile. “I am sorry that Murdo and Hamish and Ross were obliged to hear the gentleman refer to the sensual excesses he shared with you.”
“Elegantly put, Frazer,” Mairi said. “However, since Murdo drove the carriage the night I picked up Mr. Rutherford and Hamish and Ross acted as grooms, I am sure they are already aware of my morally reprehensible ways. Thank you for the restorative tea,” she added. “You are most thoughtful.”
Frazer’s expression eased a fraction. “Murdo asked me to apologize, madam,” he said. “He is exceeding sorry for his failure to prevent Mr. Rutherford’s ingress.”
“Murdo is not at fault,” Mairi said. She stirred honey into her tea, then laid the spoon down thoughtfully. “I suspect Mr. Rutherford always does as he pleases.”
“Indeed,” Frazer said. “A dangerous man, madam.” He bowed and went out, shutting the door with exaggerated care.
Mairi took her teacup in her hand and walked across to the long windows. They stood open onto the shallow terrace. Beyond that a small flight of steps led down to the gardens, and beyond that Mairi could see the silver glitter of the sun on the sea. The July day was hot; only the slightest of breezes stirred her hair. If the weather held for a few weeks, it would be beautiful for the christening at Methven. It would also be awkward to be obliged to see Jack Rutherford again, but she would ask Lucy for a room as far away from Jack’s as possible. It was common knowledge that she and Jack disliked each other. Lucy would not think there was anything odd in such a request.
She drained her cup. Her thoughts were drifting to family matters now and she wondered if Lucy was enceinte again. If Lucy and Robert produced an enormous brood of children, there might be years of such trips to Methven for family occasions such as christenings, birthdays, even marriages in time. Mairi shuddered. She hated family reunions, hated the reminders of her own solitude and most of all hated her status as a childless widow. She had desperately wanted a family of her own. The lack of it was like a hollow space in her life, a painful barrenness that she could ignore but that would never heal.
She set her cup down with a clatter on the little cherrywood table by the door. In the fullness of time, Jack would probably bring a wife and family of his own to future events. Despite his denials, a man wanted a wife or at least an heir. She felt an empty, yawning sensation in the pit of her stomach. There was no child to inherit Ardglen, or Noltland or any of Archie’s fortune even if she could keep it safe from Michael Innes’s grasping hands.
To distract herself she stepped out onto the terrace and went across to lean on the sun-warmed balustrade. The air was full of the scent of roses and honeysuckle. The sun felt hot on her face. There was silence but for the faint jingle of harness and the sound of distant voices from the stables.
For a second it felt as though time had slipped back and any moment she would see Archie coming toward her, smiling as he strode across the gravel of the parterre in his ancient gardening clothes, burned brown by the sun, dusting the soil from his hands. She had always teased him that he employed several gardeners and yet preferred to do the work himself. He had never been happier than when he was outdoors.
The silence stretched, sounding loud. Nothing moved in the quiet gardens. It was a waiting silence, as though someone was watching, as though something was about to happen. Mairi felt odd, as light-headed as though she had had too much sun.
The loneliness ambushed her so suddenly and viciously that for a moment it seemed as though the sun had gone in. She could no longer feel its warmth or the roughness of the stone beneath her palms. It was terrifying.
“Madam?”
Mairi had not heard Frazer coming out onto the terrace until he cleared his throat very loudly. She turned, trying to pin a smile on her face. It felt forced, wobbly, and the tears stung the back of her eyes and closed her throat. She fought desperately for control.
“Hamish asked me to tell you that the carriage is prepared for your departure to Methven in the morning, madam,” Frazer said. “We will all be ready to leave as soon as you are.”
The words were commonplace, but for a second Mairi struggled to understand them. “Thank you,” she said. Her voice sounded husky. “Please tell Hamish I shall be ready by seven.”
“Of course, madam.” Frazer bowed.