Fascination -and- Charmed (3 page)

Once more Mama presented her profile, and Grace felt the subject close. Frustration made her wriggle afresh. It was abominable to know that there was something one did not know. But she would be patient. After all, she was not so old that—if the marquess did not linger overlong—she might not eventually experience some deeper harmony of the mind. With a man equally interested in
her
mind.

The trap opened behind Grace’s head, and the coachman called down: “Yon’s Kirkcaldy, lassie. Ye’ll see it well fra’ here.”

Grace and her mother turned their attention to the view from the hill they now descended. On hills to the north and east lay dense forest. A river running from the southwest forked like a silver divining rod and snaked to circle a broad valley. Small clusters of cottages dotted endless fields on the valley floor, and to the west a village huddled about a church.

And on a flat-topped mound in the center, surrounded by parkland and ringed all about with a wall as thick as any two cottages standing side by side, was a massive gray stone structure fronted by twin drum towers and cornered on all sides with many-turreted angle towers.

There was no house of any size to be seen.

“Where?” Grace said hoarsely. “Where? Angus, where is Kirkcaldy House?” She directed her question through the trap.

“
Castle
Kirkcaldy, lassie. Ye canna miss it. Home of the Rossmaras for many a century.”

“Oh, Grace,” Blanche Wren whispered when the trap had snapped shut.

“A castle,” Grace mouthed. She looked out once more.
“
That
castle?”

Mama spread her fingers over her mouth. “Yes. That castle. And it will be ours.
Ours,
Grace.”

This time it was nervousness that started Grace bobbing in her seat once more. “Mr. Innes did not mention a castle.”

“What is the marquess’s will be ours. Mr. Innes said so.”

Grace could not stop her teeth from chattering. “This is all too much.”

“
Nothing is
too much.” Mama’s blue eyes sparkled. “We need never worry again. We shall have the very best of everything.”

“Oh, dear. Surely he could easily have found a wife from nearer at hand.” What could be so awful about the marquess that he’d been forced to seek a distant stranger as a companion? “I am becoming quite fuddled. Mr. Innes did say all that would be required of me would be to give Lord Stonehaven my loyal regard in the trying matter of his remaining earthly demands, did he not?”

“Oh, yes, yes!” Mama also bobbed.

“Mr. Innes said several times that the marquess keeps mostly to his rooms,” Grace said. “Marriage to a man too sick to go about will undoubtedly be short.”

“And Mr. Innes said there are no children.”

Grace nodded.

“So there we are. There is nothing to fear. You will be what the marquess needs, and then we shall be
rich.
”

“Mama!”

Blanche Wren pursed her lips. “I am merely stating the obvious.”

“I do intend to be most faithful to his lordship’s demands, Mama,” Grace said disapprovingly.

“Of course you do.”

“I would never care to be considered a heartless opportunist.”

“Absolutely not.”

Grace frowned down upon Castle Kirkcaldy. “Yet that is what I am. Or what I was.”

“What do you mean?”

“I do not even know the marquess, so he knows that I cannot have a tendre for him. Just as he cannot have a tendre for me. The proposal Mr. Innes made was by way of being in part a business arrangement. But I am completely set on making my husband glad that I was found for him.”

“I’m sure you are.” Now Mama’s eyes were round and earnest.

Grace drew herself up. “I shall wed him—in his bed if necessary. Then I shall give complete attention to his remaining earthly demands.” She concentrated on remembering her mother’s instructions. “I shall read to him from the Bible as often as pleases him, and do all the other things necessary.”

“I know you will make the gentleman happy.”

“If anyone can, I will. I’ll marry him and tend him.”

Mama shook her head sadly. “And bury him ... and mourn him.”

“Exactly as I should.” Grace felt a rush of guilty relief. “Everything will be as the marquess wishes.”

And then she would be
free!

Calum had deliberately brought about this unspeakable aggravation. Now the wretch insisted upon standing at a window in the highest room of the Adam Tower, his eye clamped to Arran’s telescope.

“For God’s sake, come away from the window.”

“Have patience, Arran.”

“A stranger. A female I’ve never set eyes upon. Hell and damnation, I am like some virgin bride awaiting her unknown fate.”

Calum chuckled. “Hardly. And there are enough eager misses among your neighbor’s households. May I remind you that you could have any one of them.”

“
Never.
”
At least he would have the pleasure of surprising the dear, malicious surrounding gentry. “My desolation at ... They enjoyed my misery when they thought I was destroyed by ... We will not talk of that. I will have none of them.”

“So it will be Miss Wren.”

Damn Mortimer. And damn the misfortune that had been Father’s scheme to ensure the clipping of his elder son’s wings. “No. No, I will not see her.”

“I think I already do.”

“Not only a strange female I’m supposed to take as my bride, but her mother to boot.”

“You sent me to London in your stead, Arran. It was unthinkable that you should take the time to go yourself. I did my duty as prescribed by you. One could hardly expect a young female to travel to Scotland without a companion.”

Nothing could lessen this awful premonition that his life was about to change forever. “I will not see her, I tell you.”

“As I’ve already said, I think I see her now. A black carriage and ... Yes, it’s yours, right enough.”

“Mine? Ah, yes, mine.” He vaguely remembered Calum coming to the gallery one night some weeks previous and mentioning sending old Angus Creigh to London with a coach in case it was needed. “You should not have rushed ahead, Calum.”

“If I’d waited ... if I’d come back and told you about the girl and asked what you wanted me to do, you know you’d have cried off the whole thing. You would not do this for yourself, so I’ve done it for you.”

“Then you can
marry
her for me, too, dammit.” Arran waved a hand. “Forgive me. It’s not your fault. You thought you were acting for the best.”

“I was and I am. She’ll be here shortly.”

Arran was anxious for his night’s work. “Greet her kindly. Make sure she rests for as long as necessary—a day, two even. Then return her to London.”

“I cannot!”

“You can and you will.”

“I
cannot
and I will not.” Determination tightened Calum’s firm mouth. “You are confronted by potential disaster, yet you will not see any of it.”

“There is nothing about my affairs that I cannot spin to my advantage.”

“You cannot
spin
the dictates of your father’s will into anything but what they are.”

“I should never have allowed you to talk me into this madness with the girl.”

“Arran—”

“No.” He held up a finger. “I have spoken my piece and now I have work to do.”

“You cannot shut yourself away with your infernal music and trust that the world will remain as you wish it. This affair
must
be dealt with.”

“Soon. I will deal with it very soon.”

“The coach will soon reach the courtyard. We should go down.”

“
You
should go down. Kindly apologize to Miss Wren and her parent.” There must be a way to deal gracefully with them. “I will decide upon a suitable, er, gift to show my gratitude.”

“Very well, we might as well deal with all your rage at once.”

“I beg your pardon?”

Calum turned up his palms. “I am ready for your wrath. I may even deserve it. What I did not tell you was that I encountered Mortimer in London—at White’s. He was tossing blunt at the tables as if he already had the Rossmara fortune at his disposal.”

“That is nothing to me.” Except a further reminder of his untenable position.

“I fear it is. He was foxed. I heard him speak of his son’s inheritance.”

“He would not,”.Arran said. “He would not dare before it is time.”

“It was said for my benefit. The drink made him daring and he could not resist baiting me. Any other would assume he spoke of what he himself would leave to Roger.”

Arran’s jaw clenched. “The fool. He will never get what he wants.”

“No, he will not, but nevertheless, he took note of what I mentioned. Said he’d soon be bound for a stay in Edinburgh. Be certain that as soon as he can gather his poisonous wife and whatever other entourage he considers desirable, they will flock to this castle like vultures.”

For an instant Arran did not understand. “The man hasn’t been here since Father died. He knows he isn’t welcome, but ... How did he find out ...?” The sheepish look in Calum’s eyes was answer enough. “You told Mortimer I was getting married, didn’t you?”

“I am only a man.”

“Yes. And so am I. How long before Mortimer descends?” He shut his eyes tightly. “Do not say that he is also fast upon my doorstep.”

“He’ll be a week—perhaps even two.”

“Good.” Arran strode across the room.

Calum caught up with him amid standing suits of armor in the passageway leading to his apartments. “Wait, Arran. What do you intend to do?”

“No more questions,” he told Calum. “Kindly go down and greet my
fiancée.
”

Grace had watched the scene they passed with mingled awe and anxiety. Smoke curled from the chimneys of tidy cottages set amid small but equally tidy gardens. Those people still abroad appeared cheerful and well fed—until they saw the marquess’s coach.

“Did you see how the people looked when they saw us?” Grace asked her mother with a shudder. “As if they thought we would leap forth and attack them? Even as they stood respectfully by, they cringed.”

“You read too many of those dreadful novels,” Mama said, covertly studying the castle courtyard, which lay behind the grand fortress. On this, the north side, it was revealed as L-shaped and buttressed on all corners by towers. “Dwelling on silly romantical stories will inevitably cause aberrations of the imagination. Better to spend more time improving indispensable skills. How to adequately defer to a gentleman. How to compensate in delightful conversation for the girlish charm you lack. Oh, really, what
can
be keeping that wretched coachman? Tell him to hand us down.”

“He’s gone ahead to announce us,” Grace said in a voice that wobbled annoyingly.

“And he’s taking entirely too long about it. You must complain to the marquess.”

Graced lacked the composure to respond. Once inside the great wall that surrounded the base of the castle’s mound, the carriage had bowled upward amid acres of ancient beechwoods and lush fields where sleek, fat cattle grazed. Immediately about the castle were gardens edged by low hedges and endless smooth lawns.

“There he is,” Mama said, shifting to the edge of her seat in readiness.

“Perhaps this is the wrong Kirkcaldy,” Grace remarked weakly and not without some hope.

“No,” Mama announced, smiling. “There is Mr. Innes. My, I do admit I’m relieved to see him.”

“Oh, dear.”

“Collect yourself, Grace. For once in your life will you do something useful for your poor mother, you ungrateful girl? Haven’t I suffered enough for not producing a son?”

Grace sighed and gathered her reticule onto her lap in time for the door to swing open. “Mrs. Wren, Miss Wren,” Mr. Innes said heartily. “Welcome to Kirkcaldy.” He helped her mother down but looked directly at Grace.

She studied his dark eyes and found nothing of a reassuring welcome there—nor on his unsmiling mouth. “Thank you.” She took the hand he offered. “This is a magnificent place. I was almost certain you referred to it as a house.”

Innes’s laugh added no cheer to the moment. “It
is
a house. What we scots call a great hoose. Do you not like the place?”

“Oh, it’s beautiful, I’m sure, but—”

“But a little overwhelming.” He watched Mama, whose chin pointed skyward as she surveyed the clock tower that crowned a castellated balcony around the roof of a massive, oak-doored vestibule. “Your mother appears quite pleased with her prospective home.”

Grace took a calming breath. “Mama is interested in everything. How is the marquess?”

“Well.”

Tiny cold ripples spread over Grace’s skin. “I’m glad.”

“Let me show you inside Kirkcaldy.”

“Thank you. Exactly how well is the marquess?”

“Very well.”

“I see.”

Angus passed them, hefting one of Grace’s smaller trunks.

She marshaled the courage to say, “I’m glad the marquess is so much improved.”

“Improved?”

“Yes. Over his former indisposed condition.”

“Ah.”

The coachman had reached the top of the entrance steps. He set Grace’s trunk down and pushed the door wide open.

“Surely there is someone to help with the luggage,” Grace said.

“Damn muck wallop,” Mr. Innes said sharply. “I never thought to ...” He closed his mouth firmly and inclined his head, indicating for Grace to precede him up the steps.

She forbore to ask the nature of a muck wallop.

“Do hurry, Grace.” Mama hovered, half inside and half outside the vestibule. “Does the marquess not have sufficient servants, Mr. Innes? We shall have to rectify that situation immediately.”

“
Mama.
”

“There are more than enough people wandering about with nothing to do. I have no doubt many of them will be glad of the employment.”

“
Mama!
”

“We have an adequate staff, Mrs. Wren,” Mr. Innes said in a voice that was too pleasant.

He waved them ahead of him ... inside Castle Kirkcaldy.

On the threshold Grace drew in a breath and held it.