Chapter 17

17

T here were still four weeks left till the wedding, when Edina left to live in Drumnaird. Fenella was a constant visitor to the castle, but there was an unspoken agreement between them that they would be polite but cool to one another, which suited them both very well.

Edina did not look back as the carriage rattled over the bridge and down the road to Drumnaird. She must look on this as a new start, she thought. Aidan was part of her past now—who knew what the future might bring?

The house that Laird Findlay had provided was a tidy little place with three bedrooms, a kitchen, a living room, and a stable outside. It was big enough for her parents to spend the night with her every Sunday, and for Mairi to have a room of her own. Edina brought some of her ornaments, paintings and furniture, and as soon as she stepped into it for the first time, it felt like home.

Edina was happy to see the delight and surprise on Mairi's face as she opened the door. As a servant, she had never had a room of her own before. However, Edina was not only happy for her, but extremely glad for her company. She had a horror of living alone.

Their first morning in the village was a dull grey one, but Edina found herself cheering up when she went into the town hall, which was in the process of being made into a school house. There she met all the children, and looking into their excited faces, she saw new hope. Every one of these little people was a new life and a new future—how could she not be happy?

She had brought a selection of books with her from the castle, and was teaching Mairi to read, while she, in turn, was teaching Edina to knit. This exchange of skills pleased them both enormously, as did the hour or so before bed when Edina would read aloud, and they would both have a glass of wine. Edina had been surprised to find out that teaching was one of her finest skills.

It was a very inappropriate relationship between mistress and servant, but neither cared. As Edina came to know the villagers better, the castle of Achnabreck seemed to become more and more distant. However, Aidan's wedding was now only two weeks away, and she was longing to see him before he became utterly unattainable.

She had written him several letters, all of them quite casual, asking after his and his family's welfare, and how the plans for the wedding were progressing. Although she had never received a single answer, and had almost given up, she decided to try one last time. Soon he would be Fenella's husband and it would be too late.

Accordingly, she wrote another letter, pouring all her heart and soul into the words.

My Dearest Aidan, she wrote.

I have tried to make sure that I am too busy to think of you, but as the day of your wedding comes closer, I am finding it harder and harder. Whenever I have a free moment, your face comes into my mind's eye, and I look at your lips, so masculine and yet so soft, and I long for them to kiss me again.

I wish with all my heart that we could be together just one last time. Yes. I know we said that the last time we met, but I cannot tell you how much I love you and how much I miss you. You are everything to me, and if I do not see you again, I have no idea how I will cope. I will not try to come between you and Fenella, but she will have you for the rest of your life, and I will lose you soon.

Please come to me. My house is discreetly situated in the village and Mairi will help us. You can come and go without hindrance, and we can make love to each other one more time without being seen. Please come to me, my sweetheart. I need you. Remember how it feels when we give each other everything? I long for that feeling again.

Write back to me as soon as you can, my dear.

All my love,

Edina.

She decided that she would give it to one of her guards to post. However, the winter afternoon was darkening, and soon it would be too dark to see. Edina spent an hour in the tavern, then stood up to go home, clutching the letter in her hand.

As she passed the two women who worked behind the bar, she heard them gossiping as they dried glasses. Fortunately, they had their backs to her, and she paused to listen to them for a moment.

"Hear that Lewis Findlay is gettin' married?" one of them, a short elderly woman, asked.

"I heard," the other one, who was much younger and taller, answered. "Tae Laird Anderson's daughter."

"What is she like?" The other barmaid's tone was curious. "I have heard the name, but never seen her."

"They tell me she is no' bad lookin', but ye know what I think, Bonnie?"

The barmaid put down a glass and lowered her voice.

Bonnie shook her head. "Tell me, Ina," she asked curiously.

"I have heard tales that he likes Edina McCarthy better," Ina replied. "I was chattin' tae one o' the guards an' he told me he would be visitin' his betrothed at his—what is the name o' that castle o' his?"

"Killenbeg," Bonnie supplied.

"Aye, well, one o' the guards told me he was goin' there tonight," Ina said. "Tae plan the wedding."

"I wish he was gettin wed tae Edina," Bonnie said sadly. "There is a rumour goin' round that he might be interested in her. She is a fine-lookin' lassie wi' a good heart that does good things for people. Look at the school in Achnabreck. Soon we will have our own here, thanks tae her. Dae ye think she would be daein' a' these things if she was plannin' tae marry Lewis Findlay?"

Ina nodded somewhat sadly. "They would make a handsome couple," she said.

"‘Tis goin' tae be a big fancy affair," Bonnie remarked. "A' the toffs fae this town an' roon aboot will be there. I wish I could be a fly on the wall, so I could see a' thae lovely dresses!"

"Especially the bride's dress!" Ina said excitedly. "That will be worth a fortune; it will probably have diamonds sewn intae it!"

They giggled, then got back to work.

Edina smiled and left them to their gossip. It seemed that the connection between her and Aidan had been noticed and gossiped about more than she had supposed. She was warmed by their kind words, however, and they encouraged her. She would build more schools in more villages.

She spent her evening with Mairi, and over a dinner of kippers and potatoes she asked her about what was being said.

"I didnae want tae speak o' it, Mistress," Mairi answered, looking troubled. "But it is said that Master Findlay's betrothed wants tae have your chamber in the castle emptied and the rest o' your possessions put in storage. I swear I have said nothin' about your love affair wi' the young Master tae anybody, but maybe somebody saw ye kissin' or somethin'."

"Where did you hear this?"

Mairi flushed. "It is common knowledge, Mistress."

"And do you know what Lewis is doing about this?" Edina asked.

"No, Mistress," Mairi replied.

She did not want to talk about the uncomfortable subject any more. She cleared away the plates and began to wash them in the kitchen so that she would not have to speak any more, then excused herself and went to bed, pleading tiredness.

Edina sat in front of the fire for a while, furious. Aidan was not wasting any time at all in wiping any trace of her out of his life. She stood up and tore the letter into a hundred pieces, then threw it into the fire, watching it disappear into nothing before she went to bed.

When she woke up, she made sure that her day was filled with frenetic activity. She went to the school and taught the children for a few hours, then treated both her and her maid to a drink in the tavern. This was something that was so uncommon that even Mairi was amazed, but she said nothing. All day long, her mistress had been tense and uncommunicative, behaving in a way that was quite unlike her usual lively and carefree self.

Hoping to cheer her up, Mairi asked, "Are ye goin' tae the ceilidh, tonight, Mistress?"

Edina's eyes lit up. Here was the perfect distraction; the church hall would be full of happy, noisy dancers and music. She could lose herself in the revellers and go home laughing.

"I certainly am, Mairi!" she answered, smiling.

"An' will ye wear your ball gown?" Mairi asked eagerly.

Edina laughed. "If I wore that creation, with its hundred petticoats, nobody else would be able to get into the room!"

Mairi giggled. "The women would faint wi' jealousy!"

"Come, we will go through our wardrobes."

Edina finished her glass of ale and gave a tip to the barmaid, then the two women left, watched by all the patrons in the bar.

"Good woman, that one," Bonnie said to Ina.

"Aye, we'll see how well she dances!" one of the customers said, laughing. "That's the sign o' a really good woman!"

Aidan had a plan. He was heading towards the Anderson estate, but he was taking a detour around the village of Drumnaird, which was at least two miles out of his way. He had seen a lot of Fenella, since she had been invited to Achnabreck Castle more times than he had cared to count. Now, though, he wanted to see the love of his life one last time before she was unattainable.

Fenella was personable and polite, and did her best to please him in all things, but she had none of the qualities that had attracted him to Edina. She was obedient, sedate, laughed at all his jokes and agreed with everything he said. None of these words could be applied to Edina, who spoke her mind freely and would disagree with him whenever she felt like it.

Only one thing about her had really upset him, and they had the closest thing to an argument they had ever had about it. One morning at the breakfast table, Fenella looked at the Laird and said, "May I ask a favour, M'Laird?"

Laird Anderson smiled at her. He was very fond of Fenella. He had for a while seriously considered marrying his son to Edina, but she was a step down the social ladder, and she and her family were extraordinarily privileged to be so close to the Laird and Lady of Achnabreck.

As well as that, she had a streak of wildness in her, and instead of taming it, living in Inverness seemed to have exacerbated it. Edina would never have made a suitable daughter-in-law; she was not exactly tactful, and he knew that on occasion she would embarrass them thoroughly.

"I have quite a big circle of friends and I need a parlour where we can all be together and enjoy the things we like to do," she announced. "I have looked around this part of the castle and the most suitable room seems to be Miss Edina's old chamber. After all, she will not be using it any more."

Aidan thumped the table with his fist, and a resounding bang echoed through the room, startling everyone and making the crockery and glassware rattle. He was seething, and the expression on his face was thunderous.

"No."

"Why not?" Fenella asked.

She looked genuinely puzzled, and for once, Aidan was speechless, because he really could not think of a reason at all, or not one he could share with anyone. Like his brother's room, he wanted to keep it sacrosanct so that he could go in there and remember Edina. He dropped his gaze to his hands for a moment, and when he looked up, Fenella was glaring at him furiously, and so was his father.

The Laird interrupted. "I see no reason why not," he stated. "After all, it is empty, and Edina took most of her possessions with her. The rest are in storage, so there is no reason why Fenella cannot use it."

That was true, and short of declaring his love for Edina, there was no argument he could put forward to the contrary that would make any sense to anyone else. He nodded slowly, and his mother started up an awkward conversation with Fenella, who looked extremely relieved.

Aidan had lost his appetite, but he somehow managed to swallow the rest of his food and excused himself as fast as he could after the meal was over.

The Laird was not finished with him, however, and cornered Aidan as soon as he left the room, then took him by the arm and dragged him to his study.

"If you are still holding a torch for Edina, then put it out!" he yelled furiously. "You are marrying Fenella, and that is all there is to it. Edina's bedroom is not a shrine. Now, get out of my sight!"

He turned away and Aidan left. His father was right. They had kept his brother's room just as he had left it, and Aidan often went there to remember him, and he would have done the same with Edina's.

However, there was no way he could win a fight with both his parents, and Edina's family were powerless, since they lived in a grace and favour position in the castle. His father could throw them out any time he pleased. He was beaten.

To add to his humiliation, he had to apologise to Fenella. He went to her chamber and said, "Forgive me, Fenella. That should not have happened."

Fenella stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. "I forgive you, Lewis," she said softly.

Aidan smiled back and walked away, but the expression on Fenella's face when his back was turned was anything but forgiving.

Edina and Mairi were admiring themselves in the mirror, both of them wearing what Mairi called their Sunday dresses. Mairi's was a light blue woollen dress with long sleeves and a little lace at the square neckline, and Edina's was similar, but made of pale violet linen, which almost matched the colour of her eyes.

"Ye look lovely, Mistress," Mairi remarked, "an' that dress fairly goes wi' your eyes."

"Thank you, Mairi," Edina answered. "So do you. We will be the most glamorous ladies in the place! Come—let's go and show them how to dance!"

The church hall was full when they arrived, and there was a little band playing which consisted of a drummer, bagpiper and fiddler. The music was lively and cheerful, and everyone was dancing, clapping and singing along. It was very similar to ceilidhs in the castle, but there were no airs and graces here, and Edina loved it.

They were both swept into a Dashing White Sergeant as soon as they entered, and began to sing the words as they danced.

Now the fiddler's ready, let us all begin

And step it out and step it in

To the merry music of the violin

We'll dance the hours away.

Katy and Peggy and Patsy and Coll

Calum and Peter and Flora and Moll

Dance, dance, dance, dance,

Dance away the hours together.

Dance till dawn, be in the sky.

What care you and what care I?

Hearts a-beating, spirits high,

Let's dance, dance, dance.

Edina forgot all her troubles as she moved around the floor, lifting her skirts, holding the hand of one partner, then letting go and skipping on to another. By the time the dance was over, she was breathless and exhilarated.

As soon as she stepped off the floor, however, Mairi whispered in her ear, "Master Findlay is here, Mistress."

Edina felt her face flush. "What is he doing here?" she asked.

"He told the man at the door that he came tae the wrong place by mistake," Mairi answered. "It was too dark tae see. He was goin' tae Laird Anderson an' got lost."

Now Edina was angry. The Anderson estate at Killenbeg was in completely the opposite direction, and Aidan knew it. He knew she lived in Drumnaird, so what kind of game was he playing?

"I do not wish to see him," she said, thinking of all the unanswered letters she had written, and the one in the cottage which she had decided to tear up as soon as she got home.

She went to the far end of the hall, to a small room where the ladies could relieve themselves. She had no need to use it, but she wanted to hide herself in the little crowd of women and hope that Aidan did not see her.

Presently, he entered the hall and began to look around for her. Edina had not realised what an effect seeing him again would have on her. He stood a head taller than most of the other men there and although his colouring was not unusual, his physique was. He was easily the most handsome man in the room, and Edina could hardly tear her gaze away from him, but she made herself edge backwards even further out of sight.

Eventually, she saw him look around for one last time before he went out of the main door again, and the music for the next dance began. She breathed a sigh of relief then moved back into the hall, but she soon realised what an awful mistake she had made when Aidan walked up to her and held out his hand to her.

"Would you dance with me?" he asked politely.