Wedgewick Woman (20 page)

“My, but you make no noise as you go about.” She teased.

“No need to make noise.  Just take your shoes off and make for a dead run.” He countered.

“Let’s go.” Annabel whispered.  “Let me take your hand.”

He let her.

“There, see that little button?  Push it.”

He heard a click.  They shared a look, but spoke not a word.  “Now down this passageway, no turn left, not right, you’ll end up in the cellars.” She whispered.

He followed her until they came to a very short door.  She reached out and pulled the special latch.  “See like this.”

They walked out into the daylight not far from the gardens.  “What?”  He looked around.  “Right under me nose, it was.”

“Right under your nose, indeed.  Now promise me you’ll not tell a soul?”

“Aye.”  He made the Carmichael sign with his small fist and Annabel knew he would not tell.

“I’ll take you through the woods and show you my secret hideaway, if it’s still there.” She caught his hand and pulled him along.

“There.  See that stand of trees right there?  In the middle is a big ball of bushes that one can easily get lost in.  In the middle of the bushes is a clearing.  It’s just like being in the desert or some secret place.  Follow me…see we’re surrounded by tall trees and these bushes.  No one can see us.”  She crouched low.

“I’ll get some branches and make us a place to sit.”  He left to do his duty.

Within minutes they were sitting on the branches, even though the ground was still damp from the rain several days before.

“So tell me about your mother.”  She offered.

“She was pretty.  Like you.”  Cork peeked sideways.

“Oh.  And what else?”  Annabel found herself smiling for the first time in days.

“She loved to make me short pants for summer.  I hated them and once…once I threw them out my window and she saw me.  It hurt her.  I didn’t mean it, though.”

“I’m sure you didn’t.” she tousled his hair.  “Did she love your father?”

“Aye.  Very much…the truth of it was…” he stopped…”he died taking the sword for me mother and me.  But they killed her too.”

“You saw it?”

He nodded.

“Oh you poor boy.  How did you get away?”

“I was hidden under the bestead…they didn’t see me.”

All at once he was across her lap, sobbing into her coat.  She held him close, felt the tears sting her eyes and hot tears ran down her cold, cold face.  She had her own troubles, but a boy should never have seen what he did.

She rocked him back and forth, the tears streaming down her face; for the loss of a little boy.  She understood too well the pain of losing the ones you loved.

After a time the boy quieted, but she did not loosen her hold on him.  “When did you come to live with Laird Carmichael?”  she spoke softly as she stared out into the trees.

He cleared his throat and pushed away from her, wiping his face with his dirty hands.  “Not yet five months.”

“How did you come?”

“The Campbells what killed my parents took me in to do their dirty work.  I shot the Laird in the arm with an arrow when I thought him to be on the Campbell lands.” He looked at her.

“You shot him?  And did he deserve it?”

“No.”

“I see.”

“He wasn’t even on the Campbell lands…but I didn’t know it.  He didn’t even get mad at me.  He paid the Campbell leader a big sum of money to buy me.”

“He bought you?”

“Aye ‘e did, free and clear, just like that.” He said proudly.  “And I have been his ever since.”

“You are happy then?”

“Aye.”

“Then everything worked out after all?”

“Aye, it did.” He admitted.  “But I miss me mother and me father.”

“Me too.” She said quietly.

“But I saw yer mother…ye’ve still got her.”

“Yes, my father died…and my mother…well it will be a very long time before I see her, I think.” She tried not to be bitter.  “Or my sister.”
             
“I hear talk around ye know.  Heard that the Laird kinda went in and run yer mother off.  That true?”

“Yes.”

“Did she deserve it?”

“I don’t know.  My sister did.  But my mother, poor thing, my sister embarrassed her right in front of me. That was unkind.” She stared off into the distance.

“Maybe you could be me mother and I could be your kid, since you’re going to lose Eleanor…” he slapped his hand over his mouth.

“That’s okay.  It’s true.  Cork, I’m tired of hearing half-truths… lies, more like it.” she said emphatically.  “Tired to death of all the lies.  And how they’ve hurt people.”

She turned to the boy and caught his eyes with her own, “Promise me you won’t tell lies.”

“I promise.”  His brown eyes gazed back at hers in earnest.

“There…I must be your mother…for I’m teaching you the truth.” She smiled and patted his shoulder.  “You are a fine, son, Cork.”

“Aye, and ye’re a fine mother.” He smiled.

“Shall we?”  She lifted herself from the branches and brushed her coat.  “Let’s head back.  I’m feeling hungry.  Are you?”

“Aye.  ‘Tis the truth of it.”

They walked back hand in hand until they came within sight of the castle and then he let her go. 

“I’m thankin’ ye for being kind to me.” He choked out the words.

“Cork, it’s easy to be nice to someone like you.”  She smiled.

His step seemed a little lighter by the time they entered through the back kitchen door to be greeted by the smells of meat pie and Mrs. Calvert’s specialty… fruit tarts.

“Come now, sit and eat.  We’ve a’plenty.  Laird’s gone and taken The Four with him and we’ve got extra.”

Afterward Cork hurried off to do his chores and Annabel headed up the stairs to see Eleanor. She slipped through the door and found the child sleeping, her Dolly clutched in her chubby arms.

“Don’t wake her.  She’s fussy today.”  Miss Donahue whispered.

“Is she sick?”

“No.” she seemed agitated.  “Just spoiled, if you ask me.”

“What do you mean?” she drew away from the child’s bed so they could talk.

“She was crying and crying for no reason at all.” Miss Donahue started to walk away.

“But why?  Eleanor doesn’t cry unless something is very wrong.”  Annabel became concerned.

“Well, I slapped her hand when she disobeyed and that should’ve been the end of it; but she cried until I wanted to slap her again.

“You slapped her?  She has never needed slapping.  Ever.  You hurt her feelings, Miss Donahue.  Eleanor is a tender-hearted child.  Not one given to spoiling.” She found her hands planted firmly on her hips.

The woman, who Annabel thought so beautiful, now looked back at her angrily.  “How dare you?  What have you to say about her care?  She is not yours, never has been.  Don’t you see the Laird doesn’t need you?  He’s just being kind keeping you here.” She turned on her heel.

Annabel thought for a moment.  Was that true? She wondered.  Perhaps it was.  She would set about to find out.  Half-truths, lies, she was sick of it all. 

Chapter
30

“Laird Carmichael, might I have a word with you.”  Annabel sought the Laird as soon as he returned two days later.

He turned and looked down at Annabel.  “’Tis not a good time.  I’m off to Edinburgh.” And he took himself away.  She stood motionless in the hall; had not expected to be refused.

“Miss Wedgewick.” Cork called.  “Eleanor cries for you.  The red-haired lady won’t come and get you…says the child is spoiled.”  He ran past her and up the stairs, waiting outside the door while Annabel went in.

“Miss Donahue, what seems to be the problem?” 

As soon as Annabel spoke, Eleanor turned her tear-streaked face and held out her arms.

“Come to Mummy.” She crooned and took the child from the other’s arms.  “Don’t worry, it’s all right, Mummy’s here now.” She sat and rocked her, petting her face and small back.

Cork watched wide-eyed as the red-haired witch came flying out of the room and headed straight for the Laird’s library.  He knew the Laird had just left and smiled to himself.

At least he’d gotten Miss Wedgewick and Eleanor alone together.  Satisfied he went about his work. 

“Cork!  Cork!  Boy, ye are needin’ to be cleanin’ out the stables and well ye’d best get to your duties.”  Mrs. Calvert was yelling up the stairs.

“Aye…I’m about it right away.” He put his legs in motion running all the way to the barns.

Annabel took Eleanor to her room.  She held her close and they slept.

* * *

As soon as the Laird returned Miss Donahue was beating upon his door.  “Enter.” He growled.  She always tapped as though she were playing a tune and he hated it.

“What is it?”

“See here…” she tried to be coy.  “Miss Wedgewick is interfering with my work.” She raised her nose in the air.

“And how is that?” he inquired calming himself.

“She appears at all times.  Pays no mind that I’ve got work to do and takes the child and rocks her like a babe.”

“She is a babe.”

“She is going on three years of age.  You must start disciplining her now before it’s too late.” 

She paced like she was the instructor at the head of the classroom and he a lad at his little wooden desk.  He ached to speak his thoughts, but held his peace.

“Discipline?”

“Of course.  I slapped her hand the other day and she spent the entire afternoon crying until Miss Wedgewick came in and treated her like a baby.”

“And did Eleanor stop crying?”

“Well…yes…after a time.” She admitted.  “But that is not the way to handle discipline.  Mark my words.” 

“Miss Donahue, I’m sacking you.” He reached for a paper, signed it and handed it to her.  She looked away, refusing the papers.

She turned back, red-faced.  “Just like that? Without first checking to see if I’m right.”

“She is my child and
I
will decide how and when she is disciplined, not you.” He dismissed her with a wave of his hand.

Cork happened by, having forgotten his coat, and heard all.  “That’s the way.” He whispered to himself and ran off before the wicked lady could give him a swift kick, for he knew she would do just that, if he had his guess.

“Blithers, Miss Donahue has forgotten her papers See that she gets them.” He ordered.  Blithers dropped the tray he carried onto the nearest table and grabbed the papers, then walked swiftly after the woman.

“Miss Donahue…your papers.”

She grabbed them tore them into little pieces and threw them to the floor.  “Now then.” She dusted her hands.  “What think ye of that?”

“Miss Donahue.” Came the Laird’s voice from his doorway where he’d seen all.  “Pick up the papers ye scattered about.” He said through clenched teeth.  “Discipline, you know.”

She started to walk away, thought better of it and snatched the shredded pieces up. 

“Now would you be so kind as to run up to Miss Wedgewick’s room and tell her I need to see her.”

The scathing look she gave him caused Blithers to turn, a fit of coughing overtaking him, and head for the kitchens where he could burst.  He had never seen anything of the sort from the Laird.  In other days he would have ordered Blithers to pick up the papers to keep the peace.

In a few minutes she came stomping back down the stairs and the doors shut with a crash.  Blithers was sick to death of the banging of doors around the castle and mumbled words to that effect as he returned to his duties.

“You wish to see me?” The Laird noticed Annabel’s mussed hair.  “Where have you been?” he asked rudely.

“In my bed…with Eleanor.  She was fussy today.  I’m not quite sure why.” she did not wish to be a tattle bearer.

“I’m quite sure.” He used her English tone.

“Where is Phoebe working these days?”

“She is in the kitchen with Mrs. Calvert.  She rather likes the position.”

“Tell her to come at once.” He ordered.  “Is Eleanor all right?” he added.

“She is asleep now.”

“Good, then see to Phoebe.”

She returned with Phoebe and started to leave the room. 

“Stay.” The Laird ordered.

She stopped and turned. 

“I would have Phoebe take Miss Donahue’s place in the nursery.”

“Me?”  Phoebe said, looking at Annabel.

“Aye.  She knows you.  You will assist Miss Wedgewick until the child settles into a routine and is able to walk on her own.”

“Thank you Laird Carmichael.” Phoebe said sincerely.  “I shall be most happy to fill the post.  And would Miss Donahue be available to tell me the child’s schedule?”

“She would not.”

“Then I will do my best on my own.  I will tell Mrs. Calvert about the changes.”

“Do that.” He dismissed Phoebe.

“Sit down Miss Wedgewick.  You wanted to see me the other day?”

“It was concerning Miss Donahue.” She said quietly, still standing.

“Sit down.”

She did.

“What have ye planned for ye’re life?”

“What?”

“What have ye planned for ye’re life?”  he repeated slowly.

“Well, I…don’t quite know.  I suppose I’ll return to London and live there.”

He stood and started pacing.  “I’ve been giving a lot of thought to attaining a mother for Eleanor.  It might as well be you.”

Annabel’s heart jumped in her chest.  “Me?”

“I am a reasonable man.  Thus far, my daughter has had three, no make that four different women in and out of her life.  You have been the only constant that she has known.  It would suit me…if it would suit you…to marry and then we can raise her together with the least amount of harm done.”  He added.  “I do not wish the child to be reared without a mother as I was.”

Annabel’s heart broke and her courage nearly failed.  “It would not work.” 

“What do you mean it won’t work?” he countered stopping in front of her chair.

She stood and held onto the back of her chair, unwilling to allow him the advantage of looking down at her from his lofty height and intimidating her.  “Because you don’t care for me. Eleanor would know and…” her hands began to shake.  “That is the reason it would not work.”

“I care for you.” He said in protest.

“Yes, but you do not love me…and love between her parents is what Eleanor needs.”

He turned and began pacing again.  “Perhaps you are right.  I am just trying to do what’s best.” He admitted. 

She knew he would see her point.  “Of course. “

When he did not speak she added,  “There is someone you will
want
to marry someday and I would not wish to stand in the way of your happiness…nor Eleanor’s…” she could feel her heart’s built-up walls giving way.  “But I do thank you for considering me.”

Her feet carried her out of the room before he had time to respond.

He let her leave, feeling the ogre.  He had said he cared for her…but he knew he could never love another Wedgewick Woman.