Chapter 15
Cat fled to her room, furious with herself for allowing such a thing to happen, for allowing Thane to make such a fool of her.
She’d been so certain that Effie’s oversight was a needless sop to convention.
And then, not ten minutes after Effie left, Cat found her way into Thane’s presence and let him humiliate her with that display of passion.
She must be losing her mind.
Yes, she was curious. Curiosity wasn’t a crime. Well, it shouldn’t be. Women ought to be allowed to be curious, instead of be punished for it. There was surely some essay on exactly that topic among her readings…
Then she huffed out a breath. As if she’d find the answer to her turmoil in an essay. Lord, she was completely upside down, all thanks to that horrible man and his horrible, teasing kisses. What good was her philosophy now?
After all that she tried to learn and how much she attempted to live a life of independence, here she was…a virtual prisoner in a remote castle, at the mercy of a cruel man who she hated…and yet couldn’t seem to resist.
She ought to resign her place in the ladies’ league and take up the writing of gothic novels. She was practically living her own: The Swooning Virgin of Kinlochlie!
Cat laughed at her own ridiculousness, and felt slightly better.
She got up and looked out the south window.
The moon spilled a ghostly light over the landscape below her.
Silver trees covered silver hills, and the charcoal-sketched mountains were still topped with pure white snow, even this late in spring.
She took a deep breath, inhaling the cold Highland air.
It felt so much more pure than the air of the city—of course, the city was filled with coal smoke and the fetid stench of too many people and animals sharing too tight a space.
Even in the wealthy neighborhood she called home, it was an ordeal to walk through the back alley on a summer day.
In contrast, this place seemed to be perched in the clouds, surrounded by winds still icy-clean from the mountain peaks.
If she were a bird, she’d fly all the way over the range she could see outlined in moonlight—no one would ever tell her where to go or what to do.
But she wasn’t a bird. She was a woman of the nineteenth century, bound to the earth as every other woman was.
Cat turned away from the window, disenchanted with the view. What good were dreams when one had to wake up?
* * * *
The next morning, Cat rose in a more even mood. She scoffed at her silly emotions from the night before—both her weakness with Thane, and then her despair at the window. Too much travel and the discomfort of finding oneself in an unfamiliar place. That was all!
Being in a place other than her own home might be somewhat helpful, she realized.
For that morning was the first time that she’d woken up without hearing Brodie’s voice echoing in her head, his words indescribable, but with the sense that he’d just been telling her something important before she was pushed out of her dream.
She held the charm on her pendant and thought about her brother.
The ache was still there, but it also felt different this morning. The edges smoothed, somehow.
“You’ll not believe where I am just now,” she murmured. “Your friend’s home in the Highlands. In all your stories and letters, you failed to mention that Thane lives in a castle.”
Didn’t want you to start dreaming of being the princess there, Brodie’s answer came back.
“Small chance of that if the castle comes with an ogre,” she replied, quite pleased with the comeback. Too bad she was the only one around to hear it.
Cat dressed in her black wool gown just as someone knocked on her door.
“Breakfast, miss,” a maid announced, bringing in a massive tray. She set it on the small table by the fireplace, which had gone out during the night. “Shall I stoke the fire for you, miss?”
“There’s no need. After I eat I should like to explore,” Cat said. “Does Mr MacPhearson…I mean, do the family take breakfast together?”
“The master eats in his chambers, miss. Well, he did today. He hasn’t been back for years—not for very long anyway—so we don’t know his habits.”
“And Mrs MacDonnell? Has she eaten?”
“Oh, aye, she’s been up for hours. You’ll find her in the hall when you’re ready.”
Cat felt some judgment in the words—no doubt they all thought her a soft and lazy lowlander. Perhaps they were correct. “Thank you…what’s your name?”
“I’m Janet, miss.” The maid gave her a little bob and left.
Cat sat at the table and uncovered a bowl of thick oat porridge.
There was a little pitcher of cream next to it, and Cat poured the whole thing in, stirring happily.
She ate every speck, and washed it down with the strong, malty brew in her teapot.
Afterward, she felt much more ready to face whatever the day might bring.
Gothic dreams were no match against oatmeal.
She found Effie in a sunny nook of the great hall, where this part of the building had been altered from its medieval origins to feature a few tall glass windows low enough that a person could look outside.
The top of the window frame was much too high to touch, even for the tallest man.
Effie was knitting, her needles clicking pleasantly as she turned a skein of red yarn into a shape that Cat guessed would eventually be a shawl.
“Am I interrupting?” Cat asked her.
“Not at all!” Effie gave her a smile. “Perhaps you have something of your own to work on? I’ve got some spare needles.”
“I am not very skilled at knitting,” Cat confessed. (In reality, she was terrible at it.) “When Aunt Tacita arrives, she will surely want to know everything about every stitch. Although I suppose that when she arrives, you’ll want to return to your own home.”
“Ach, it’s more interesting here,” Effie said. “With my man away, it’s too quiet. I confess I get lonely when he’s gone very long.”
Cat remembered her own mother sighing in relief when Cat’s father left on a journey—a more frequent event in later years, since the two of them could hardly stand to be in the same house. She said, “You must be lucky.”
“I married my dearest friend,” Effie said, smiling. She pointed to a plate of biscuits on the bench next to her. “Have a ginger biscuit. Good to calm the stomach. I heard it was a rough passage.”
Cat groaned at the memory. “You have no idea. I always thought I had a strong constitution, but that journey nearly killed me.” She felt much better this morning, but she still took a bite of the biscuit, which was just as spicy as she hoped.
“You know, Thane was very susceptible to seasickness when he was a child, but he eventually outgrew it.”
“Really? Perhaps there’s hope for me, then. Not that I plan much ocean voyaging in my future. I am happy where I am. I mean, where I usually am. I mean, not that I’m not happy here—”
“I know what you meant,” Effie said with a laugh. “It must be difficult to uproot yourself, especially with so little notice?” The larger question was in her voice—why was Cat here, and how was she connected to Thane?
Cat sympathized with the woman’s curiosity. Lord knew she’d be pestering everyone for answers if she were in Effie’s place. She didn’t want to speak here in the hall, though, where someone might overhear information meant to be kept close. She offered, “Perhaps we could walk outside for a bit?”
Effie’s eyes narrowed as she glanced around the hall. She seemed to understand exactly what Cat was afraid of. She put her knitting aside. “I think that with the sun being out, I ought to show you more of this place. You’ve barely had a chance to see where you are.”
“True,” said Cat. “All I know is that I’m in the Highlands. But I couldn’t name a single mountain or river or lake in my sight.”
“Then come with me,” Effie said. “I’ll name them all, till you’re sick of knowing.”
“I can’t imagine being sick of your company,” Cat said, to Effie’s laughter.
“Aren’t you a charmer,” she said. “No wonder Thane smuggled you home.”
“Oh, he didn’t smuggle me.” Cat frowned, thinking. “Actually, I suppose that is what he did!”
As the two women walked along the long green edge of land before the mountainside fell away to the valley below, they talked.
Grateful to have a kind ear, Cat told Effie very nearly the whole story, from the near-miss gunshot at the party to the men of Brodie’s company suddenly acting as protectors, with Thane in the lead.
“So like him,” Effie murmured. “Though he surely finds it a pleasant duty to protect you.”
Cat shook her head. “I assure you, there’s no…personal interest. Thane is merely upholding a promise.”
Effie’s mouth quirked. “He may be keeping a promise he made. He always does that. But I’ve seen the way he looks at you, and there’s certainly some interest.”
Cat bit her lip. “Well, perhaps. He’s a man, after all.”
“That’s true enough.” Effie’s amusement was clear, but Cat sensed that it wasn’t at her expense. “I expect that you’ve received quite a lot of attention from men. You’re very striking. And yet, you must not be engaged, or else some fiancé would have sheltered you.”
“I am definitely not engaged,” Cat said fervently. “As I mentioned last evening, I don’t wish to marry.”
“Do tell.”
Cat gave her the reasons, though with less verve than usual. She finished with, “Not that I say no one should marry. After all, you are married.”
“Very happily so,” Effie agreed. “But I admit that not all unions are so fortunate. It would be a better world if people could make their choices based on their own hearts. But I suppose we must make the best of what we have.”
“I hope to make the best of what we have better,” Cat said stubbornly.
“I can see why he likes you so.”
“He doesn’t. Thane barely tolerates me, even if he did…” Cat stopped before she blurted out the embarrassing truth.
But Effie caught her, and raised an eyebrow. “He did…what?”