Chapter 33

Chapter Thirty-Three

“ T here are many duties to attend to; you cannot remain in this self-imposed confinement any longer.” Edith McRainey was a force to be reckoned with, confirmation that he’d made the right decision when leaving his estate in the hands of McRainey women through the decades.

He sat on the bed, without any motivation to do anything.

Standing before him now, the slight woman did not allow for excuses of any kind. “This is three days now you have remained holed up in this room. The estate will not run itself, you know. Decisions must be made regarding the renovations to the stables, reinforcing the fencing in the west pasture, and someone needs to check on the progress of the farmers who’ve been reluctant to follow my orders.”

The last statement he had a hard time believing; nonetheless, he allowed her to continue. “I understand you’ve been through a great deal, and face plenty of challenges ahead. However, time does not stand still. You don’t have the luxury of wallowing.”

Tristan frowned, “I’m sure everything is well in hand without any help from me. Somehow the estate managed, and verra well without me.”

“So everything was for naught?” Edith took his jaw and pulled his face up to look at her. “Clara died—bless the poor child’s soul. You deserve to mourn, believe me I understand. I have experienced the pain of losing a child. I lost a son.”

Tristan was shocked, not remembering ever seeing a boy about since Edith took residence. “Don’t be so shocked. I was in love once, and would have married my son’s father, if not for being so foolish when young.

“Now,” she said, placing her hands on her slim hips. “You have an estate to run, responsibilities to assume, and more importantly, your friends’ hopes of freedom are pinned on your shoulders. The staff is waiting downstairs to meet you. Come down at once.”

If not for the constant noise provided by what they called a telly in the corner of the room, Tristan knew he’d hear his heart thumping, the fast beats not unlike those of anger. Edith was right; he had duties to attend to.

He’d mourn in private, on his own time. Once standing, his gaze was drawn back to the moving pictures in the telly, a woman was speaking of world news. It was that new world that had his heart pounding harder, faster. Honestly, the thought of leaving the room terrified him.

Descending the stairs, Tristan was surprised to see there were only six staff members lined up. Two, both maids, he’d met before, as they’d brought him meals, the other four were men.

Beaming, Edith stepped up to him, putting her hand on this arm. “I’d like to formally introduce you to my son, Tristan McRainey, who will assume total control of the family estates and holdings, as of today.” Curious looks were directed at him, but none of the staff members seemed shocked that Edith had a son. Unlike them, Tristan was sure his expression gave away his surprise at her introduction.

Edith continued unabated, introducing him to both maids, Hannah and Liza, followed by three men, Ross, Cameron, and Duncan, whose duties included grounds keeping and stables, and Miles Sullivan, foreman of the estate. Sullivan, a large man, was the only one to step forward and shake his hand. “Laird, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” The older man nodded toward the other men. We look forward to working with you.”

“Please call me Tristan,” he replied. Ensuring to keep his face neutral, he shook each person’s hand, asking about their family and length of employment.

After the staff left the hallway, only Miles remained. The older man chuckled and shook his head. “I take it Ms. Edith didn’t tell you she planned to introduce you as her son.” He gave Edith a warm smile.

Edith sniffed in response, “I didn’t have a chance, I was too busy beating sense into the boy.”

“Why did you introduce me as your son?”

“In this, Derrick is correct. People have an easier time believing that I had a son out of wedlock who lived abroad with his father his entire life, than they would in believing you came back from a four-hundred-year enchantment.”

Miles nodded, drinking from his coffee cup. “Miss Edith here has been mentioning a son for years now, in preparation of your return.”

“Thank you,” Tristan told his new mother, who waved it away.

“Let’s do a tour of the estate, shall we?” she told them. “I’m anxious to retire to my flat in town. Finally, I can join my girlfriends for tea and shopping without having to worry about things at the estate taking all my time and attention.”

Gwen entered the room, her journal and pen in hand. She didn’t meet his eyes but smiled warmly at both Miles and Edith.

“I’m glad you’re joining us. We’re about to begin the tour of the estate lands and will definitely enjoy having your company,” Edith told Gwen, linking arms with her and leading her towards the front door. “We’ve so much to do and see—your notes will come in handy for Tristan.”

“Beautiful lady,” Miles told Tristan, walking beside him as they followed the women out. “If only I were about thirty years younger.” He chuckled at Tristan’s glare. “Of course, you don’t have that obstacle, do you?”

Tristan almost smiled. He liked the man.

Tristan assisted Gwen into a large golf cart. When his hand held her elbow, she visibly flinched at his touch. The distance between them didn’t settle well with him.

“Are you well?” he asked her, only to receive a curt nod in response. He climbed into the large golf cart, in front next to Miles, while the women settled into the back seat.

He was astounded at the many changes to the estate, but the lay of the land remained the same. He began to recognize landmarks Miles pointed out and found himself relaxing, releasing his death grip on the handlebar in front of him.

He now owned less land; just over a thousand acres surrounded the home and cottages. When they stopped atop a ridge that overlooked the estate and stables, Gwen seemed to soften, joining in asking questions, jotting down notes and even laughing as they watched two foals at play.

At the stables, he meandered, stopping at each stall, studying each horse. The beasts were of good stock. He was pleased with Miles’ choices. Edith went into a small room that Miles called an office, and he was left alone. Stroking a large black horse, he decided to ride him later.

Going outside behind the stables, he was greeted by noisy pens housing pigs and goats. Gwen didn’t notice him approaching as she patted a goat’s head, speaking to the animal softly.

“Aren’t you cute,” Gwen cooed at the animal, which preened, nuzzling her hand.

“You like beasties?”

She nodded. “I do prefer the smaller ones. Although I do like horses, I prefer smaller animals, like dogs, cats, and, well, now goats.” She smiled at the goat, allowing him to nuzzle her arm.

“We must speak,” he told her. “I would like to begin work to free the remaining men immediately.”

“Of course,” she replied, finally raising her eyes to him. He felt his heart tighten at the tenderness in them.

“I have an idea about Gavin. I think he and my sister connected.”

“I do as well,” Tristan agreed, moving closer, but stopping when she took a step back. Not wanting to make her uncomfortable, he turned toward the stables. “After the evening meal, we can adjourn to the sitting room.”

The day progressed quickly. After touring the estate lands, Tristan locked himself up in the study with Edith and Miles to begin lessons on running the estate. They’d decided to spend two hours a day teaching him.

Edith was pleased. “You’re a quick study. I am impressed. You must have kept a close eye on how things were run while away.”

“I would like to go for a ride this afternoon,” Tristan told them, hiding how overwhelmed he felt at the moment.

“Son, you don’t ask for permission, you do as you wish,” Edith told him with fervor. “You are the laird. The sooner you are able to take the reins, the sooner my life of leisure begins.” She giggled, a schoolgirl-like sound. “I can’t wait.”

Gwen paced in the study after dinner. Tristan was not present at the beginning of the evening meal; he’d returned late from riding and burst into the room at the end of the meal, his eyes bright.

He’d apologized to Edith for his delay. Brushing his long hair impatiently away from his flushed face, he’d refused to sit at the table, claiming to be too soiled from his ride. It had been impossible not to admire him. Tall, dark, and handsome, not to mention his body. Tight riding pants displayed his muscular legs. The riding jacket showcased his broad shoulders. Gwen had been forced to look away, the tightness in her chest reminding her, she’d leave soon.

“Thank you for waiting.” His entrance made her stomach pitch nervously.

She forced a smile. “Did you eat?”

“Nay, Liza is bringing something here,” he replied, locking gazes with her.

Clearing her throat, Gwen opened her laptop. “While Sabrina was here, she spent time researching spells. She has strong seer abilities, which will prove helpful.”

They spent the next hours going over details, even continuing while he ate. She was astounded by how much Tristan knew about each man in the alter-world. No doubt, they’d spent much time sharing the most intimate of details of their lives. She took notes on a laptop, biting back a smile when Tristan peered over her shoulder, frowning at the screen.

“What will happen to the words inside the frame?” he asked her, his brow still crinkled.

“It’s stored in here,” she told him, pointing at the bottom of the laptop. “I can plug it into another device called a printer, which will print my notes out to look like this.” She picked up a piece of printed paper.

He held the paper, but didn’t look at it. Instead his worried eyes met hers. “Through the years when I came here, I tried to learn as much as I could. Each time I visited, much changed. I didn’t realize it, but once I didn’t come for almost fifty years. I felt lost. Parts of the house had been redone, some of the rooms enlarged, everything was totally different.”

He took a deep breath. “I knew it would be difficult but didn’t expect to not know basic things.”

Gwen reached to touch his shoulder, but pulled her hand back. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. The world, no matter how much times goes by, basically stays the same. I bet during your day women competed to look prettier than others; men favored certain knights in bouts, and argued with one another over who was superior. Young people sneaked kisses, children gave the food they didn’t like to the dogs, and old people claimed the wisdom of time. Am I right?”

Finally his lips curved, “Yes, you are right. Knights in bouts?” He chuckled. “I do know about football. I’ve watched by a window, during family gatherings, as they kicked the ball about the pitch.”

Glad he felt better, she saved the document on the computer and went to leave. He held her back, his hand on her forearm.

“There is something else we should discuss.”

“Oh?”

“I’ve given my word to your sister. I do not wish to dishonor you. We’ve been intimate on more than one occasion. I will marry you.

“Oh, God.”

How does one go about explaining the whole ‘honor’ thing to a knight, without sounding like a total slut? Torn between wanting to laugh hysterically, throw herself into his arms screaming ‘yes!’ or running from the room, Gwen frowned at him.

“Tristan, do you believe me? About Clara?”

“Aye, deep inside I always knew she died that day in the forest.”

That put to rest, she had to ask. “Did my sister say I had to marry you?”

“Aye,” he replied, his eyes questioning.

There it was. The only reason he asked was because he felt he had to. Damn Sabrina— why hadn’t she warned her of their conversation?

He came up behind her. “I know I don’t have much to offer you, but…”

This time a bark of laughter escaped, as she always tended to do when overwhelmed by events .

Nothing to offer? Just filthy rich, handsome beyond words, a laird, great in bed—well, amazing in bed—not to mention she was in love with him.

“ Are you all right?” Tristan’s confused words sent her into peals of laughter, so loud Edith entered the room.

Gwen turned to face the woman and tried to speak, waving her hands, not making any sense. Finally, seeing the somber faces forced her to stop laughing. Sniffing she took a breath, wiping her eyes. “I’m sorry, I laugh when overwhelmed. Edith, can you please explain the nature of modern relationships to your… er, son?”

She giggled again. “He thinks he has to marry me for honor.”

Edith became stern. “Come sit down, both of you.” She sat on a large couch where they joined her, on either side.

“Tristan, you do not have to marry Gwen, even if you’ve been intimate. I assume you have, and that is why you’re asking, am I correct?”

She waited until Tristan, who frowned at Gwen, nodded. “People marry for love mostly, nowadays.”

“’Tis not reason to laugh,” he contended.

Edith gave Gwen a pointed look before turning back to Tristan. “That is true, but don’t take offense. It’s nerves, not mirth.”

“Now, Gwen,” Edith spoke to her, tapping her knee. “Are you of modern thought that you’ll only marry someone that suits?”

Sober now, Gwen replied, deciding to be honest. “I will only marry someone I am in love with and who loves me.”

“There now.” Edith got up, leaving while she and Tristan watched her. “Now, tell him no , since I take it he didn’t profess to love you.”

“What do you mean you said no ,” Sabrina’s voice went up several octaves and forced Gwen to hold the phone away from her ear. “But you love him!”

“The only reason he asked was because you told him he had to. As a matter of fact, he didn’t ask. He stated that he would marry me. He is doing the honorable, knightly thing.” Gwen huffed impatiently. “Why didn’t you tell me of this conversation, Sabrina?”

Her sister’s giggle infuriated her. “All right, I admit I did say he had to marry you, but I also said to ask only if he loved you.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.”