Fair Is the Rose (51 page)

“Nephew!”

Jamie froze in midstep.
Lachlan
. He turned and felt his stomach drop to his boots. Lachlan and Duncan both stood at the spence door, waving him in.

“Come, lad, for I’ve been braggin’ tae yer uncle aboot the lambin’.” Duncan clamped a hand on Jamie’s shoulder and steered him into Lachlan’s chambers. “ ’Tis a blissin o’ God and naught else.”

“Twins, Duncan tells me.” His uncle pointed toward the second best chair, pulled close to the hearth.

Jamie eyed the upholstery. “I’m filthy, Uncle. No use soiling your good chair.” He needed some excuse to keep his visit short, for his clothes chafed him, as did his conscience. Had Leana slipped up the stair without mishap?

“All of them twins?” his uncle prompted him.

Jamie nodded, rubbing his beard to hide his discomfort. “So far every ewe has delivered a healthy pair of lambs. Of course, that could change come the morn. We’ve another fortnight before the lambing ends.”

“Aye, aye,” Lachlan grunted, pouring himself a dram. “Still, you’ve meikle to be proud of, James. I intend to write your mother and father and inform them what a good sheep breeder they’ve raised.”

Jamie studied the man closely. Though he heard no trace of guile in his uncle’s smooth words, Jamie sensed some ruse afoot. Lachlan McBride seldom offered praise without a purpose. “Is there anything else, Uncle? I’m eager for my bed, for the day has been long, and the morn will be longer still.”

His uncle paused, the dram of whisky halfway to his puckered mouth. “Have you given any thought to the future?” He took a long sip, then licked his lips rather than miss a single drop. “Come the Sabbath, say, when you have an old wife and a new wife living under the same roof?”

Jamie’s jaw tightened and with it his resolve to depart Auchengray in May. With both of Lachlan’s daughters. “I’ve thought of little else, Uncle. Though I have nae solution to offer ’til the lambing is done, you can be sure of this: I will leave this parish, and I will not leave empty handed.” Jamie flung himself out the door before Lachlan could respond, Duncan close on his heels.

“Jamie!” The overseer snagged his sleeve as they reached the stair. “Yer uncle was merely sayin’ ye’d done a fine job wi’ his flocks—”

“Aye.
His
flocks. Not mine,” Jamie fumed. “You ken better than most the ill-kindit manner in which Lachlan McBride treats his family. Worse than if we were strangers.”

“Listen tae me, lad.” Duncan pulled him aside with a firm grip on his arm. “I’ve a scheme I’ve been workin’ on. A plan tae see ye get half o’ the lambs, seein’ as they’re all twins. But ye’ll have tae mind yer temper
wi’ yer uncle. Through the lambin’
oniewise
. Will ye do that? For the sake o’ yer auld overseer?”

“Och, you ken that I will.” Jamie exhaled, glancing about the hall. “Forgive me, Duncan, if I spoke too sharply. I’ve got meikle on my mind.”

“Now, now.” Duncan gently shoved him up the stair. “Ye’re wound tighter than a watch spring. I ken not the reason, though twa days o’ lambin’ will wear oot any man. See tae yer washbowl and a clean shirt. Ye’ve earned a guid nicht’s sleep.”

Rose might not think so
.

Jamie slowed as he reached the top stair, his feet heavy with regret—not for loving Leana, but for disregarding her sister. Her bedroom door was closed. Perhaps she’d already retired for the evening. A few steps down the hall the nursery door was shut tight too. Was Leana within, nursing Ian? He paused beside the door, waiting, listening.

Guilt sliced through his heart at the unmistakable sound of a woman weeping.

Fifty-Eight

But with the morning cool repentance came.

S
IR
W
ALTER
S
COTT

I
n the hour before dawn, in the chilly confines of her hurlie bed, Leana awakened, having not truly slept. She had wept the night through, but only now did she see—truly see, as if waking from a dream—what had to be done.

She must leave Auchengray for good.

That Hogmanay night long ago when she’d sought comfort in Jamie’s arms, she was innocent of all but her blinding love for him. But yestreen—oh, yestreen, she had been anything but innocent, anything but blind. She had run into the gloaming seeking his embrace, welcoming his kisses, nearly throwing aside all that she knew to be holy, all she believed to be true.

Leana touched her fingers to her lips, remembering the sweetness of his mouth, the warmth of his body. ’twould never happen again. She would make sure of that. For Jamie’s sake. For Rose’s sake. Even for Ian’s sake
—oh, my precious Ian!
So he might grow up in a home where harmony reigned and not discord, she must slip away.

But she could never manage it alone. After brazenly seeking Jamie’s embrace, dare she ask the Almighty for help?
For thou, Lord, art good, and ready to forgive
. She pulled one trembling hand from beneath her bedcovers, then the other, and reached into the darkness of the nursery.
I stretch forth my hands unto thee
. Praying she would not wake Ian, Leana whispered, “Forgive me, Lord.” She held her breath, waiting for assurance. At first, only Ian’s soft breathing filled the emptiness round her. Then the words she most needed, the words she’d sung in the kirk, now sang in her heart.
The mercy of the Lord is from everlasting to everlasting
.

Leana sat up, taking a deep breath, as though a window had opened
and freshened the air. She knew how this day must unfold. ’twould require more courage than she possessed, more fortitude than she might ever muster.
Thou art the God of my strength
. Aye, the strength would come from above, for she had little of her own, not for this.

Leana slipped down the hall to her sister’s room, then knelt by the door, bowing her head, one hand resting on the latch.
Forgive me, dearie
. If she thought her discarded harn goun would help, she would drag the sackcloth over her shoulders once more and scatter ashes on her head. Instead she prayed in silence, confessing her sins.
Forgive me, Rose
.

After easing to her feet, she made her way down the hall to Jamie’s door and knelt there as well. Though the door to his room was slightly open, she dared not enter.
Forgive me, Jamie
. Pressing a kiss to her fingertips, she touched the latch.
Never again, my love
.

By the time Leana returned to the nursery, she was shaking all over. From nerves. From the cold. From fear. Fear that she could not do what else must be done.

Ian lay sleeping in his crib, his little limbs pointing in all directions.
Just like your father
. Bending over his bed, she gathered the child in her arms and cradled him against her shoulder as she stood. “There, there,” she crooned, as he snuggled closer, still fast asleep. She eased into the upholstered chair where they’d spent many a peaceful hour together and covered his face with kisses. “Oh, dearest boy. My precious lamb.”

A keening rose inside her as she rocked him in her arms, murmuring in his tiny ear. “Your mother loves you, Ian. Never forget that. Never, sweet boy.” She bent over him, muffling her sobs in his blanket. Though she tried to sing, her voice broke and, with it, her heart. “Baloo, baloo, my wee, wee thing.”

In a matter of hours Ian would nestle in the arms of a servant lass from Glensone with a babe of her own and enough milk for two. “But ’twill not be my milk.” Leana moaned, pulling open her nightgown. “Please, Ian. ’Tis our last day together. Please.”

He stirred at the scent of her, not quite waking as his small mouth found her breast. She sank back against the chair, ashamed of her neediness, yet grateful she could offer him something of herself, if only for a moment. “Thank you, Lord,” she said softly. “For I ken your Buik says,
‘I have behaved and quieted myself, as a child that is weaned of his mother.’ Truly, I have all but weaned my child from my breast. But, Lord …” A fresh spate of tears gathered in her eyes. “I cannot wean him from my heart.”

As if sensing her pain, Ian’s eyes opened. And seeing her, he offered her a toothless smile, falling away from her breast as he did. “Och, Ian,” she scolded him gently, blinking back tears as she moved him to the other side. “You’re not making this easy for your mother.” Though nursing soothed them both, of late it meant little sustenance for him. “Forgive me, lad, for there’s not much there.” Using her nightgown, she patted her cheeks dry with the Scottish bluebells that bloomed on her sleeve. “Another young woman will come to Auchengray twice a day to fill your belly. A lucky lass indeed, to hold you like this.”

She could not be in the same room when dark-haired Jenny Cullen came to nurse her son. Nae, she could not be in the same house. Leana leaned over to kiss his forehead. “Jenny may feed you, Ian, but she’ll ne’er love you as I do.” She was glad he would not need a mother’s milk much longer. A few more weeks and he’d be weaned altogether. Still, even one time with Jenny was too awful to imagine. Perhaps he would not take to her breast. The thought of it lifted Leana’s spirits but only for a moment. Nae, he
must
take it willingly, easily, for he would need Jenny’s milk to grow. Already a tiny pearl of a tooth had appeared in his lower gum. The maidservant’s milk would be a blessing, not a curse.

“Though I wish it were my milk,” Leana confessed as Ian drifted back to sleep from the sheer comfort of suckling. She pulled the neckline of her nightgown closed, careful not to jostle him. The first light of morning, spilling through the window behind her, filtered across the room. Familiar voices drifted up the stair, and the scent of bacon sizzling on the hearth slipped under the nursery door. Life went on, it seemed, as if this were the most ordinary of Saturdays. Yet, before the sun sank below the horizon, she would release her beloved son to a wet nurse and her beloved Jamie to Rose.

Help me, Lord. Help me bear it
.

She lifted her head at a light knock on the door. Eliza, her white cap fringed with sandy wisps, appeared with a steaming pitcher of water in
hand. “Mem? Will ye be needin’ help wi’ the lad this mornin’?” Her eyes said the rest of it:
Or would ye rather have him to yerself?

“Nae, Eliza. We’ll manage. Though if you’ll meet me here at noontide, I’ll need help dressing for … for …”

“Aye, mem.” She placed the pitcher on the washstand with a fresh linen towel. “I’ll have yer gown ready and yer ridin’ boots polished.”

“Is the rest of the household awake?”

“Mr. McKie has been oot wi’ the sheep for some time.”

“I see.” No wonder his door was unlatched. He’d already left for the hills.

“Yer sister’s still sleepin’ though. I tapped on her door.” Eliza shrugged artlessly, turning to go. “Ye’d think on sic a ferlie day, she’d be up afore the cock crows.”

“Aye.” Leana waved her maidservant out the door, then let her hand sag into her lap.
I will miss you as well, lass
.

Ian stirred again a few minutes later, awake for good this time. His eyes were bright, and his tummy clamored for porridge, for he stuffed his fist into his mouth and squealed, the surest sign he was hungry.

“I’ll see to your breakfast, lad, and then to your bath.”
The last time. The very last
.

She pressed him tight against her chest as if to stem the pain.
How will I do this, Lord? How will I say good-bye?

Fifty-Nine

Love sacrifices all things
To bless the thing it loves.

E
DWARD
B
ULWER-
L
YTTON

A
fter breakfast Leana sought refuge in her garden. Weak as she was, she knew if she stayed in the house she’d be listening for Jamie’s footsteps on the stair or his voice in the hall. Instead she planted Ian on his plaid, plunged her hands deep into the soil, and begged for a strength she knew she did not own.
Be thou my strong rock
.

She had to leave Auchengray, of that there could be no doubt. The minute the vows were spoken she would flee.
But how, Lord? And where?

She had no coins to pay an innkeeper, nor silver for meals, nor the means to hire a carriage. Though the Newalls might take her in, they lived too close to Auchengray. Though the McKies would gladly open their door to Jamie, they might not welcome their niece to Glentrool. Was there nowhere she might stay for a season? Was there no one willing to take her in?

Help me, Lord. Show me the path
.

A quiet hour of praying and listening slipped past as her bleak future took shape in her mind and in her heart. Bent over her seedlings, singing cradlesongs to Ian, who’d curled up for a nap beside her, Leana suddenly felt a presence behind her, blocking the sun, cooling her shoulders. ’Twas plain whose bold shadow hovered over her.
Jamie
.

“Please, Leana. Don’t look round.”

His voice was so strained she feared he had taken ill. Concerned, she turned her head toward one shoulder. “Jamie?”

“Nae, lass.” This time she heard the tears in his voice. “I beg of you, do not look at me, for I cannot bear it.”

“Oh, Jamie.” Now there were tears in hers as well.
Not like this, Lord. Please, not like this!
“I can never hold you again, nor taste your
kisses, nor stand close enough to smell the heather on your skin. And now I cannot look at you. Oh, my love.” She bent in two, her face nearly reaching the ground. “Is this how we must part? Sense by sense until we are numb to each other?”

Jamie bent down. Though he did not touch her, he was so close she could feel the warmth of his breath on her neck. His voice was gentle and low, like the summer wind. “I will always love you. God forgive me for speaking the truth.”

She nodded but could not speak.
And I will love you. Always
.

“You and I both ken that what happened yestreen must ne’er happen again. I have begged for God’s mercy and have received it. But I will ne’er repent of loving you. Do you hear me, Leana? I will always love you.”