Wedgewick Woman (9 page)
“She did care for me in her own way and I her,” he allowed, “But I’m afraid she cared more for herself than she did for anyone.” He turned and stomped toward the door then turned back. “Blithers will see you out.” And was gone before he could utter another unkind word to this woman.
Annabel opened her mouth but not a word issued from it…suddenly she knew he was right. Helen
had
hurt him deeply and profoundly. He had not meant for her to see the look of hurt that passed over his face so quickly she wondered if she’d seen it at all.
Looking down at the recovered teacup still held tightly in her hands, she set it down on the table and pulled in a deep breath. She had tried to get the money for Eleanor and failed.
Tears sprang to her eyes. She was tired, dirty, and worn out from the worry of this entire affair. Ashamed. And she had lied. To God, to the Laird, and to herself.
Suddenly crushed and defeated, she picked up her reticule, shoved in her sopped handkerchief and walked slowly toward the double doors where she ran directly into Blithers. Quickly turning as though looking out the window she dabbed at her eyes, turned back, and smiled weakly.
“It appears that each time we meet, I am blubbering.” Her mouth quivered.
“You are fatigued. Shall I see to your bath, Miss Wedgewick?” he looked past her, busying himself with picking imaginary lint from his coat sleeves.
“No Blithers…but thank you just the same. Please tell my driver I’ll be out in a moment…If I might have a glass of water…”
“Oh, but you cannot leave the castle at this late hour…” He looked fair affronted.
“I am not welcome here.” She said quietly.
“Fritz,” he called loudly, “Will you please get Miss Wedgewick a glass of water. Excuse me.” He backed away and turned. “Wait here.”
“Sir, if I might have a word with you.” He caught up to his employer who was now stalking through the courtyard.
“What is it?” Laird Carmichael sent a look over his shoulder.
“I have it on Miss Wedgewick’s word that she is not welcome here?” he followed his employer, still respectful, but the Laird saw his determination.
“I did not say that.”
“She thinks it so, sir.”
“What is that to me?” he thundered.
“It is late and she has traveled a great distance. Could you not find it in your graces to allow her to stay the eve and be sent off in the morn clean, fed, and rested. I will see to her myself.”
The Laird’s eyebrows raised. Blithers was
his
valet! Again he wondered if the older man was going daft.
“If you insist, let her stay this one eve Blithers. And…” he stopped pointedly, then ordered, “Let Mrs. Pembroke see to her.”
“As you wish.”
Blithers hurried back to the castle to do the Laird’s bidding and called Mrs. Pembroke into duty to see to their guest.
“Mrs. Pembroke will see your needs, Miss Wedgewick.” He bowed ever so slightly.
“Thank you, Blithers. It is good to see you again. Good eve.”
“Good eve.” He called out pleased that she was to be rested and fed, for he remembered her kindnesses to others at the castle, even as a young lass.
Once alone in her room, ensconced in the deep, warm, rose-scented bath prepared by the servants, Annabel let herself cry silent tears. Soon they turned into sobs and Mrs. Pembroke caught her unawares.
“Child, what could be so bad?” she said tenderly.
“Oh.” Annabel raised herself from the water and took the offered wrap and covered herself. “Tis only my shortcomings.” She allowed.
“As we
all
possess.” Mrs. Pembroke said as she busied herself turning down the bed coverings and patting the pillows into submission, while her guest donned borrowed nightwear. “In the morn all will be well.”
“Yes.” Annabel agreed and smiled, for she did not wish Mrs. Pembroke to let anyone know she had been found weeping. She must stay strong. For Eleanor. For herself…and even in memory of her dead sister. She would find a way…soon. If only she could tell Laird Carmichael the truth…but thinking of all that had passed between them below stairs, she knew it would not go well. And she had vowed to her sister never to reveal the child’s birth to Laird Carmichael. How then could she?
Quickly she covered her musings and crawled into the huge bed, burrowing into the fresh scented linens. Her fingers touched her mouth where he had kissed her. Her first kiss and by one who meant it for harm. Tired and beyond rational reasoning she closed her burning eyes and was asleep before another thought could rob her of rest. Mrs. Pembroke, hearing her guest’s even breathing, picked up the sad looking gray dress and slipped out the door and clicked it gently to its close.
Morn brought the sound of rain at the castle windows. Rain? It had been dry for so long the crops were in danger of failing. Annabel ran to the windows and sure enough raindrops slid down the tall panes of glass making dozens of rivulets through the dust.
Below stairs there was much excitement, talking and laughing…most likely because of the welcome rain. Glad, for she could dress and be on her way while the household was busy, she felt renewed and ready to return to Eleanor. She missed the chubby child. After seeing the Laird again, Annabel realized how much she resembled him.
Oh Eleanor, you’ve your father’s eyes and hair and your mother’s beautiful smile.
Alas her dress was missing. Now what could she do? She waited for Mrs. Pembroke and inquired.
“Miss your dress is laundered and they are now pressing it.”
Annabel felt her face color. “Thank you.” She said quietly.
Within the hour she came down and took a bit of breakfast at Mrs. Calvert’s command and bade the servants, with whom she had spent three years with as a young girl, farewell. Allowing herself one backward glance at the retreating castle, she stepped up into in the waiting carriage and was off.
Laird Carmichael watched from his third floor window as her small conveyance rattled down the road, now wet with the new and welcome rain. During one moment in their meeting last evening he saw again an expression he thought only Helen possessed.
Chapter
16
James rode out to the cottage the moment he heard Annabel had returned.
“Oh James, it was awful. I’m afraid I have bungled any opportunities to get assistance from Laird Carmichael. I had thought to appeal to his kinder side, even after the debacle at the dance…” her voice trailed off. “But it was not to be.”
“Annabel, people change. Even the Laird. He has many responsibilities, and problems, many caused by Helen.” He spoke gently.
“I feel so ashamed for lying to him.” She felt the tears come again, her hands wringing in her lap.
“I daresay he can be quite stoic when he chooses to be.” He agreed. “But do not let your heart fail…I have,” and he reached into his pockets and brought forth a large note, “Something to help. Give this to the surgeon as a small payment with more to come.”
“I cannot take this, James. This is not your responsibility. Why I’ve already gotten you sacked with Lord Carmichael. I cannot receive your gift, but you have honored me by offering.” Her voice was soft.
“You will have it…” he lay the bill on the table. “’Tis the smallest part I can do to assist…you may call it a loan. Perhaps the surgeon will go ahead if he knows there will be other funds coming to him?”
“I daresay. But I will not consent to you giving me anything. Tis not seemly.” She admonished, blushing.
“Seemly or no…I would help you. If I had been more considerate of my papers that day, he would have never found out you were receiving funds. I am part and parcel to this malady you find yourself in.” He admitted.
She laughed now and he smiled.
“Tis true is it not?” He laughed along with her.
“James, what is to become of this? Oh, but it feels wonderful to laugh again.”
Eleanor was in the next room playing in her bed when she, too, began to laugh.
Annabel went for her immediately. “You are awake and happy, too.” She lifted the child into her arms and brought her to see James.
James touched the child’s hand and peered down at the foot. “Tis soon she would walk, if the foot were aligned.”
Annabel looked up at him. “James I
shall
keep this money and go to the surgeon and ask if I might put it down.” She said lifting her eyes to him, a new strength revealing itself in her eyes.
“Now there’s my girl.” He laughed at the both of them and picked up his hat and cane. “I must be getting back or I’ll run the risk of being sacked again.” He teased, letting himself out the door.
“He is our true friend, Eleanor. Some day we shall pay him back for all he has done for us.” She swung the babe around then felt a sudden surge of sadness that even though Eleanor squirmed to be let down, she could not allow her, lest she try to walk, fail and be discouraged, or worse, injure her foot again.
“Tis time for noon fare.” Phoebe strode into the room, gently lifted the child from Annabel’s arms, carried her to their tiny kitchen and set her down to eat…Annabel followed; the three of them talking and laughing as it were in the little cottage, the breeze blowing through the white gauze curtains at the windows.
“Tomorrow I shall go to see the surgeon,” she announced brightly, “take him the money and ask if we might be in debt to him. Perhaps I could take a job as his assistant to pay for the operation.” She mused
.
For twill soon be known that the stone is undamaged and I shall be found out
. Her thoughts trailed away. Would Laird Carmichael retaliate?
* * *
Even while she spoke, Laird Carmichael prepared to send two of his men to London to bring back a stallion he had traded for an original wagon made by one of his best crafters, and to locate and report back if indeed his dead wife’s stone was crushed and fallen as Miss Annabel Wedgewick had told him. Even though he’d seen the lie in her eyes, he would not judge without first knowing the facts.
At the last moment he sent two servants for bundles that were to be delivered to Miss Annabel.
“Ewan here is the map where the stone is located…an X marks the exact location. You will see the yard close to the Presbyterian Church and the white fences will be easily spotted, for the size of it is vast. Now be about the business of your journey returning at once with the stallion and the information I’ve given you. See to it that you do not injure the animal. Have a care.” He made the Carmichael sign and turned to other business.
Before he’d gotten two steps a yowl was heard in the courtyard. Turning toward the noise Laird Carmichael stared, hands on hips, as several young pigs came racing and squealing through the courtyard upsetting carts and causing men, women and children to abandon their work and scatter.
“Cork!” he shouted. “Name your whereabouts!”
“Here, Laird Carmichael,” the boy came from behind a post.
“What is that smell?” The Laird shouted and Cork felt everyone staring at him, two dozen pigs still screaming in terror as they ran loose.
“You were only to feed the pigs, not let them out of their pen!” he bellowed.
“I’m sorry, sir. It’s just that…that…”
“Speak it, boy!”
“Lord Carmichael,” Bria called softly from behind him. He turned, hands on hips, then saw that she too had taken a fall and was muddy, head to toe, and worse, she smelled exactly like Cork.
A smile crawled unwelcome to his face, but the Laird would not pass sentence without hearing the matter.
“Tell all.” He said, his voice flat. He forced his eyes to stare over her shoulder, for on her face she bore the distinct look of a disobedient child and herself a grandmother.
“It is like this…a slab of mud slid from her cheek and landed upon her chest, which she chose to ignore, then continued…”Cork opened the door and did as you bid. He was preparing to feed the pigs and at that most unfortunate moment I was passing the pen, when my best… my very best garment flew out of my hand with the wind. I screamed for Cork to catch it before it landed in the mud and he tried, but had to let go of the doorpost to succeed.”
“And?”
“I saw him grab the garment then… “ she made a face, “He fell into the mud, my beautiful gown ruined.” She paused to stare at the mud-splattered, tangled mess of fabric that lay in her hands. “I tried to help him up and both of us went down.” She said under her breath. “And the pigs flew out frightened as a pack of birds with a passel of cats at their tails.” She finished.
Lord Carmichael looked up at the hills, noted the look of amusement on Ross’ face as he stood guard at the main entry, and swore that if he ever saw daylight again he’d be a most disciplined man if he could speak at this moment without laughing.
Bria noted his eyes were darting about, which she found so unusual that she started to chuckle behind her hand. Then, unable to contain herself for a moment more she dissolved into a fit of laughter.