Chapter 31
Cat woke up slowly, unwillingly. Her whole being ached.
She looked to the side, and there it was. The ugliest pillow in the known world, the lace ruffle on one side badly singed, but otherwise in one piece.
“How…”
“When MacPhearson carried you out of the house, he grabbed the pillow as well.” It was Tacita’s voice, soft and gentle in the dim lighting. “He says he doesn’t remember doing it.”
Cat grabbed the pillow and cried, fat tears dripping onto the already blemished fabric. The smell of smoke welled up when she hugged the pillow tight. She didn’t care.
After a few moments, she got hold of herself and tried to sit up, only to collapse back as a coughing fit overtook her.
“Don’t strain yourself,” Aunt Tacita told her. “You’ve had an ordeal, what with the smoke and the poison.”
Cat had forgotten about the poison. She remembered reading somewhere that poisons could take a while, leaving the victim a walking ghost, awaiting the inevitable conclusion. “Am I expected to die?”
Tacita suddenly smiled. “Apparently not! The doctor’s come around twice to check on you, and he seemed surprised that you were still alive the second time. He said that people who ingest that particular poison usually die within a day. You are a marvel.”
“I only took a very small amount of the tea she put it in,” Cat said, feeling as if that fateful moment was both long gone and quite recent. Everything after the tea was as broken up and jumbled as the ruins of a stained glass window. “What happened?”
Over the next half hour, Tacita told her everything from the moment Thane and the other men discovered she was gone and gave chase. They had sailed (naturally), which allowed them to gain three days over her land-based route. They rushed directly from the wharves to the house.
Evidently Miss Fairchild and her accomplice did their best to eliminate the men, but were badly outmatched, considering Thane and his friends had military training and experience that meant they could counter nearly everything the couple threw at them. Until they set the fire.
“I can hardly believe the house is still standing,” Cat said.
“Oh, it’ll take more than that to harm this pile of bricks. The fire was seen immediately, and the neighbors came with water to quench the blaze. There’s a lot of damage to furniture and curtains and other items, but what matters is that no one died.”
“What of Miss Fairchild…or Mrs Fairchild?” Cat asked, frowning. “And her…husband? Is he really my cousin? It’s all so confusing.”
“I wonder that you remembered any of that, dear. Yes, as it turns out Thomas Fairchild was a second cousin once removed on your father’s side.
I suppose he technically had a claim to the inheritance, using the most stringent interpretation of only male heirs being allowed to inherit.
But according to the solicitors, who have shown commendable promptitude in responding to this incident, the fact is that Scottish law favors explicitly written contracts over tenuous claims based on tradition.
The man would have had a very difficult time defending his claim in court. ”
“Unless I was dead, and unable to press my own claim.”
“I certainly wouldn’t have stood by while some miscreant tried to steal your family’s legacy!” Tacita sniffed at the cheek of it. “And I must say, your gentleman and his comrades were impressive in defending you.”
Cat looked down at the pillow still clutched in her arms. “I don’t know why. I treated him very badly before I left the Highlands. And I don’t know why the others should have joined in. They have no stake in the matter.”
“They all called Brodie friend,” her aunt said. “For them it was enough.”
Cat closed her eyes, still feeling the heat of the fire that had surged so close to her…before Thane carried her to safety. “I will have to thank them, but I don’t think I can face them yet.” Thane, she meant. It was Thane she was too ashamed to face.
“Well, you still need to rest, dear.” Tacita poured a glass of water and offered it to Cat.
“I mean, I don’t know how I could ever face them. They must think I’m vapid and silly for leaving Thane and running headlong into danger. Did he say anything?” Cat asked suddenly, peering hopefully at her aunt.
“Which he do you refer to?”
“Tacita, don’t tease me. I mean…Tha…Mr MacPhearson.”
“Mr MacPhearson said that he was glad he got here in time so your death wouldn’t be on his conscience.”
“Oh.” A little part of Cat’s heart died, and it had nothing to do with any lingering poison.
He merely sought to clear her from his conscience, a final act to resolve his obligation to Brodie.
There was nothing more. Well, after she’d told him she hated him, why would she think he had any tender feelings left for her?
“I think I’ll sleep again. I’m…I’m not feeling well yet. ”
Tacita tucked her in like a child and turned the lamp very low, telling Cat to rest up.
But Cat wasn’t sleepy at all. She clutched the smoke-scented pillow close and tried not to burst into tears once more.
Thane had followed her just to fulfill his oath to Brodie, and not for any other reason.
And what other reason had she given him?
Why had she made such a mess of everything?
Why did she find it so difficult to accept that Thane had made a mistake when she herself made so many as well?
* * * *
Cat’s recovery was swift, in the physical sense.
Her lungs cleared, and she could sit up in bed and walk about the house for short periods.
She slept a great deal—or more accurately loafed in bed, unable to rouse herself to any action.
She knew she ought to write to Thane. But every time she approached the desk to pick up a pen, she found herself turning back to her bed, crawling under the safety of the covers.
However, she was not bereft of visitors.
Mrs Roberts came the next day, and expressed her genuine horror at what occurred.
“To think that woman used our noble goals as a cover for such a nefarious scheme! We shall have to vet our members much more closely in the future. And I suppose I shall never again be able to convince you to speak in public, my dear.”
“Of course I shall speak,” Cat said. “Indeed, now all I have to fear is the usual mob of angry men and whatever rotten vegetables they may hurl. And I am not afraid of that.”
“That’s the spirit! You are such an example to the young women of our nation.”
But Cat did not feel like an example. Not a good one anyway. She’d first assumed she needed no man in her life, then allowed her heart to be stolen by one, then threw herself at him, only to have her heart broken the moment she truly thought she could be his wife. And she still yearned for him.
Later that same day, she received a visit from Kai.
“I’m an ambassador,” he explained after handing over a bouquet of cheerful yellow roses. “We didn’t want to crowd you, but we’re all very concerned. How’s your recovery?”
To Cat’s ears, Kai seemed to be tactfully avoiding the names of any specific men who were concerned, which allowed him to evade the mention of any who weren’t…namely Thane. But she said, “The doctor says I am doing well and should be back to my usual self any day now.”
“How wonderful!” He beamed at her. “I’ll tell the others. We’ve all been worried that there would be permanent damage, either from the fire or the poison.”
“Not from those,” she said softly.
If Kai caught her meaning, he said nothing.
Instead, he spoke of minor news in the city and the country, obviously hoping to engage her interest in the larger world.
He was so sweet and earnest that Cat conjured up the courage to ask a question that had been dogging her ever since Miss—Mrs—Fairchild had revealed the truth.
“Kai, I’ve no right to ask it, but I need a favor, and I think you’re the only one who can manage it.”
“Me? Are you sure you don’t want to ask MacPhearson, or…”
“He can’t help with this,” Cat said abruptly. “Even if he wanted to. But I know you have a gift for finding things.”
“I’ll be happy to try, Miss Ross.”
“It’s about Brodie.”
Pain flashed across Kai’s face, but he said, “Anything.”
Cat told him what she wanted to know, and while puzzled by her request, Kai promised to do his best to fulfill it.
She received more visitors the next day: a few neighbors, more ladies from the League, then Duncan and Calan together. They conveyed Struan’s regrets that he couldn’t join them, with Calan adding, “It’s the smell of smoke, I think. He doesn’t do well with it, not since the war.”
Cat said she quite understood, and she intended to write Struan a letter to express her gratitude. The men didn’t stay longer than was socially acceptable, but Cat rather wished they did. When they left, the house felt much emptier.
Thane was not among the callers, and Cat doubted he would ever set foot in her home again.