Chapter Twenty-One
Though Jean had been thorough in her description of the responsibilities she would relinquish, Marion was sure it would take quite some time for her to come into her own as the castle’s mistress. One thing was for certain—she would be kept quite busy.
Jean had gone to speak with the butcher as a formal announcement would not be made until later that day and by Alexander, but for now, she found herself sitting alone in the library admiring the way the light cast through the long windows.
“I hear you are to be addressed as Lady Campbell from now on,” a male voice said from the doorway.
Alexander’s younger brother, Thomas, leaned against the door frame eating an apple, his eyes narrowing as he looked her up and down.
“Aye, that is correct.” She had to admit, now that she outranked him, she was not certain what to call him.
“You know you are not the first woman who was considered for the position.”
Marion had heard that Alexander had been betrothed before, but that was all she knew about the matter, and it was not something that concerned her so she would just as soon not know at this point.
When she didn’t answer, he said, “As the new mistress, my lady, you should be aware of the kind of man that is your husband, who discards women when he is finished with them.”
“I am certain I know my husband well enough.”
“Do you? Do you really know my brother that well?”
In truth she did not, but she knew him as well as she could have in their short acquaintance and certainly enough to suss out the sort of man he was which was honorable and good.
“What is your point, Thomas?” She did not mean to use a short tone with him, but he was clearly there to stir trouble as she’d been told he was oft found doing.
He sauntered into the library wearing a smirk that made her insides uneasy. There was something about him that she disliked but was unable to fully put her finger on.
“I merely want to tell you about the man you have married. The kind who sullies innocent lasses and then tosses them aside.”
“Thomas, I do not know what you are talking about, but I have many things to do so, if you don’t mind,” she said as she stood, hoping he would understand the signal for dismissal.
“Oh, but I do mind, Lady Campbell. I came here to tell you about his lordship’s first betrothal, and I will have my say.”
Thomas stood closer to the door than she, but she still felt as though a thick cloud of dirt had just surrounded her. But she would eat her own tongue before she let him know the effect he was having on her. He took a couple more steps toward her, his eyes glinting with mischievousness.
“Your brother will return at any moment. I suggest you have your say with him and not me, for his past affairs are not my concern.”
“Are they not? When they illustrate the kind of man you have married? When the telling may spare you future strife?”
By these statements, Marion had married a cold-hearted monster and that was a very different picture than the one she had developed in her own mind—quite the opposite, in fact.
“I appreciate your warning, Thomas. It is duly noted, but I must beg you leave me to my work.”
“Very well, Lady Campbell. ’Tis your funeral.”
Was that a threat? God’s teeth, now her curiosity was piqued but she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d gotten under her skin.
Marion turned back to the window and gazed out onto the garden which was still mostly in full bloom.
It would soon fade as fall approached, but she would find time to enjoy as much time outside as she could before the cold north winds took hold.
A little bit of that north wind seemed to try to creep into her heart.
Damn Thomas for his troublemaking. She didn’t want to doubt Alexander, not now and not ever.
But if he’d had a broken betrothal in the past, was it his responsibility to tell her or was it fair that he kept it to himself?
Perhaps he was upset by it still and that thought did not give her any additional comfort as seeds of jealousy sprouted in her heart.
The thought of him with another woman made her belly twist and coil.
Oh God, Thomas had succeeded if he had meant to torment her.
She despised feeling this way. She pined for the euphoria she’d felt in the past days with Alexander.
Marion closed her eyes and envisioned his face smiling at her. She pictured his arms around her and his deep voice calling her name.
“Marion, are you unwell?” his voice asked.
She opened her eyes, heat flooding her cheeks at being caught in a state of emotional turmoil.
“I—I do believe I am,” she whispered.
His brows drew in tight as he approached her and led her to the seats near the tall shelf filled with manuscripts that had so fascinated her the first time she’d visited.
“Marion, please. You look as though you’ve seen a ghost.”
“I am not unwell, my lord. Thomas has been to see me.”
“Thomas? What did he say to you?”
Marion did not want this to turn into a confrontation. She wanted to sort through her overactive mind and reconcile the flood of thoughts his words evoked.
“He spoke of your first betrothal,” she said quietly.
Alexander stood and raked his hands through his hair then swiped his hand over his face.
“And I’m certain he was not kind in his telling of the story. I do hope your opinion of me has not changed,” he said, staring hard at her.
She opened her mouth, but the words would not come, so she shook her head, hoping he would understand. Her opinion of him in fact had not changed at all, nor her feelings, but his reaction told her there was definitely more to the story.
“Would you like to tell me about her?” she said, fighting hard to keep her voice from shaking. Did he love her then? Did he love her still?
“I told Thomas that I would tell you about her in my own time and in my own way. My brother has a penchant to stir trouble when he is not occupied with a task and that is my folly.”
He paced as he spoke of a woman he’d not met, who he felt had emotional difficulties that would not improve upon living in and being responsible for a castle and its successful running. The betrothal had been set up by his father years earlier when Alexander was but a wee lad.
His voice softened when he sat by her and took her hands in his.
“Marion, the poor lass was like a frightened lamb. She wailed the entire time she was here, in this library, upon our first meeting. She was terrified and I had to reason with her father to not leave her here. He agreed and the betrothal was dissolved quietly. I thought I was doing her a favor.”
This was a much different account of what Thomas said, but she was still convinced there was more to this story.
“And where is she now?”
Alexander leaned forward, resting his arms on his legs with his head in his hands. Marion’s heart squeezed at the sight of him. Curse Thomas for putting them through this right now.
“She is dead,” he said.
Marion held her breath.
Alexander sat back and held her gaze. “Her father quickly married her to someone else who was not as patient as I attempted to be, nor as kind. The lass took her own life on her wedding night.”
“But why does Thomas hold you on account for her?”
None of what he said made sense.
“The thing to remember about Thomas is that he does not like being second oldest, but he also does not like that I work very hard to keep Inverary and our clan healthy and happy. He has latched on to that past tragedy as something I could have prevented and deems it my mistake versus an unfortunate circumstance.”
“Alexander, I am so sorry. He was so convincing that you were somehow responsible and that I was somehow in danger.”
He tilted her chin up and leaned toward her. “I promise you with every fiber of my being, you are safe with me and always will be.”
His eyes sparkled blue from the light coming from the window, emphasizing the intensity of his declaration. She knew that from that moment on, she would never doubt him again.
*
He was going to string Thomas up by his ears and let the ravens have at him when he found him.
This was the final straw with him. All the years of stirring trouble here and there, it was finally going to come to a head.
He could see in Marion’s eyes, that Thomas had gotten her to doubt him, just a little bit with his version of what had happened.
But what he hadn’t counted on was that theirs was a connection on a level Thomas did not know existed.
Like their souls had spoken to one another.
Alexander found Thomas in the stable, eyeing the stable hand assisting a mare with her new foal.
“A word,” he said to Thomas who jumped slightly at the sound of his voice.
“I’m sorry, my lord. I’m a bit busy at the moment.”
“But not too busy to frighten the new lady of this castle, though, right?”
Thomas glanced at the stable hand then walked past Alexander and outside. Once they were away from prying ears, Alexander said, “What right do you have to speak to my wife in the way that you did?”
Thomas wore a bored expression when he said, “I told you before, someone had to tell her what she is in for.”
“And what is that?”
“That you use and discard people, brother.”
Alexander raked his hand through his hair. “I will never understand why you put the blame on me for Eileen’s death. She was not married to me. I did not lay a hand on her, Thomas.”
“She was terrified of you. I heard her crying to her father to not leave her with you, aye. But he then married her to the worst man in Scotland.”
Alexander did not want to think of that, of the fate that resulted in the broken betrothal, but he still did not feel the entirety of it should be laid at his doorstep.
“She smiled at me. Did you know that?” Thomas said quietly after a time.
“What do you mean? When?”
“The day after you tossed her out. I was in the village and saw her with her father. She was not wailing then. She seemed shy and quiet, and she smiled at me.”