Chapter 23
Odd how a near-tragedy could wake one up.
Despite the fire, and despite how close she’d been to danger, and how much even “minor” damage had hurt to recover from, Ellie found herself so happy with her life she could barely stand it.
She’d been cheerful before, of course, because she believed in being cheerful as a way to make the world easier to bear.
But the joy that came from being in love was so much more than mere happiness.
A few hours after Struan had left her following their discussion of, ahem, semantics, Ellie rose from bed and got dressed.
She wanted to embrace the whole world. She beamed at every chambermaid (even the ones who told her she was supposed to stay in bed).
She wanted to sing back to the birds in the sky.
She greeted each person she saw in the house with an ebullient smile that was probably disconcerting to the average Highland denizen.
Yet how could she do otherwise? She had a lovely home, filled with more than she’d ever need to live and thrive, and she was matched to the most perfect man ever created.
Not literally perfect, of course—nothing short of the Divine was without flaw.
But his flaws were really just how life had shaped him into what he was, which was caring and thoughtful and always attentive.
He both sheltered her and shocked her, a combination she never knew she needed until she came to live here.
How absolutely wonderful the world was, bringing them together in this way.
Of course it had to be that Struan couldn’t court her in the usual way, because he wasn’t the usual man.
He’d been through too much and he had to keep himself distant even as he admired her from afar.
But he’d then gone to her father and asked for her hand just like in fairy tales, and it was all terribly romantic and this was the result…
her confessing her love to him, and knowing (almost certainly) that he would say he loved her too, if only he said that sort of thing.
Eventually, she went to the parlor room—now one of her favorites in the whole house —and took up a seat on the long couch in front of the fireplace, where a low fire burned, the smoke peaty and comforting in her nostrils.
She was just debating whether to call for some tea or wait for Struan when a maid entered.
“A letter for you just arrived, ma’am,” the maid said, handing Elspeth a folded paper.
Elspeth took it from her and saw with delight Mairi’s handwriting.
She flipped it over and worked her finger under the flap to break the seal.
Mairi had folded in her usual pattern, and the act of folding back each corner of the paper was as familiar to Elspeth as the shape of her sister’s script.
She began to read, hoping for happy news from the city. However, that was not what she got.
Dearest Pest,
You must prepare yourself for my next words, and remember that any pain I give you now is that of the surgeon whose scalpel cuts, but only in the cause to save a life.
Elspeth almost put down the letter. Was Mairi ill, hence the discussion of surgeons and scalpels?
Was there some death in the family that came suddenly, not allowing for Elspeth to return to the city in time?
Mairi always leaned toward understatement rather than histrionics.
If Mairi said something would be painful, then it would be excruciating.
Elspeth only hoped that she could provide some comfort to whomever Mairi was speaking of. She took a deep breath, and continued.
Through happenstance, I learned some most disturbing facts regarding our father’s financial standing and his future expectations.
This wasn’t the sort of news she had been expecting, and she was unsure how it could necessitate such a daunting preamble.
Not only has he been most imprudent in his spending habits, he has gone so far as to require multiple loans in order to maintain the appearance of solvency.
Now Elspeth guessed where this missive was going.
She had sometimes suspected her father of living beyond his means, because he was always so concerned with others’ regard of him.
It was in his nature to equate a person’s moral worth with their outward presentation.
She hoped his behavior wasn’t going to hurt Mairi’s happiness.
If he had spent her dowry, it would considerably limit her options…
should Mairi ever want to marry after all.
I don’t fear poverty, and I dare say that of our whole family, I am most likely to tolerate a greatly reduced income, should he not be able to repay what he has borrowed this time.
However, I do fear losing what little freedom I possess, and I pray you will forgive me for the truth I am about to impart.
Elspeth considered finding Struan before she continued, thinking that she might require some strength outside herself to bear the blow that was coming.
But Struan was somewhere else, no doubt hard at work, and after all, she was a grown woman.
She could hear bad news, no matter how upsetting it would be.
Her hands shook slightly as she read the rest of Mairi’s letter.
Our father has not only borrowed a staggering sum from money lenders, he has proved fiendishly inventive when reimbursing his creditors.
Perhaps inventive is the wrong word, for what he has done is one of the oldest and most repugnant of trades.
In short, he has sold a person in payment for his debt.
And not just any person, but one who I hold most dear. It is you.
Elspeth couldn’t make sense of those words. Did Mairi have brain fever? But if she did, how could she write and fold and seal her bizarre letter so perfectly?
He had borrowed from the man who is now your husband, and rather than coin, Father rendered payment in the form of your hand in marriage.
It is my understanding that the bargain was settled upon by both parties with little discussion.
And I am afraid that explains all too well why you had never laid eyes upon your husband before your wedding.
Our father implied a tenderness that never existed, and the notion that MacInnes was too reticent to court you in the usual manner was a fiction.
It rends my heart to know how happy you were, thinking that you had received a most loving partner, when in fact your name, your body, and your tender affections were nothing more than an item in a ledger.
Elspeth had to read the words several times before they truly penetrated.
It couldn’t be true. Struan wasn’t some coldhearted figure in a counting house.
He had shown every evidence of regard toward her.
He would have told her if he had made such an arrangement with her father.
Wouldn’t he? Her mind aflame, she read on.
But Father has not learned any lessons or changed his ways since his unnatural bargain with your husband.
When I discovered the foundation of your marriage, I also discovered that Father has borrowed yet again, from a different lender.
This amount is even more extravagant, and at an interest rate which the law calls usury.
He and Susan are spending like mad things in preparation for Averill’s impending engagement (though Mr Farquhar, the most favored man, has not come up to scratch just yet).
They are pinning all their hopes upon a match to this gentleman, whose income will justify the risk our father has placed upon all of us.
She was sweating. Her heart was racing. Elspeth could hardly hold the letter, her arms were shaking so badly. The physical effects of these revelations were as real as what the fire did. Mairi went on.
I fear that, having already performed the act once, our father will not hesitate to do it again.
Am I to be shortly offered up upon the auction block?
Am I also to be called wife to some man I have never met and will be forced to marry?
Am I soon to be an indentured servant across the sea?
There is worse that I could imagine, though I will not commit such nightmares to paper, for no woman should ever have to contemplate such a demeaning future.
Did Mairi mean to come north? Elspeth couldn’t imagine it.
Alas, your home is no safe haven. I have never been as full of rage and disappointment as I am now. If only we were together. If only we had wings. Write to me as soon as you may. I will be in agony until then, not knowing your heart after learning this news. Please trust that I am always
Your sister and your friend,
Mairi
Elspeth attempted to read parts of the letter again. Her eyes must be wrong. She’d misread the words, it was a joke, it was a mistake, it was some ridiculous crossing of intentions.
But the words remained the same.
On the fourth attempt, the words blurred as tears welled up, turning her vision glittering and unreliable.
“It’s not true,” she whispered, but that did nothing to make the truth fade.
She could toss the letter into the fire right now, and make the words disappear.
But words once read cannot be unread, and she couldn’t toss herself into the fire. Struan would be furious….
Elspeth took in a harsh breath, unfamiliar feelings billowing up inside her, dark and sooty. Emotions too big to stay inside, but too big to let out…for Elspeth anyway, who never succumbed to feelings that would disrupt the tranquility of others’ lives.
What about my life? she thought with a savagery that was sharp as a new blade.
And then Struan walked into the parlor, looking a little disheveled after being outside in the constant wind. But moving easily and confidently, the lord of the manor. The man who’d chosen her to be the lady of the manor. Just not in the manner she’d thought.
“There you are, Ellie,” he said with the smile he only gave to her. And it made her heart skip a beat, even as it raged in her rib cage.
But as he stepped toward her, she steeled herself, stood up, and asked, “It is true that I am payment for a debt?”
He went completely, utterly still.
“What?”
“You heard me. Is it true?”
“Who told you that?”
“Is it true?”
His posture and form changed from surprise to the forbidding attitude she’d seen early on. Then he said, his voice flat, “Yes. It’s true.”
She closed her eyes, the words like a physical blow.
He moved toward her. “Ellie, it’s complicated. If you let me explain…”
She held her arm out, stiff, keeping him away. She swayed.
“Ellie. You’re going to faint.” He sounded concerned. Well, why not? He’d bought and paid for her. He wouldn’t want her to break before he got his money’s worth.
“Don’t touch me,” she snapped. “Don’t come near me.”
He stopped in his tracks. Other than the rise in his chest, he could have been made of stone.
“I intended to tell you,” he said at last.
She glared at him. “When?”
“I suppose it doesn’t matter when. Because someone told you first.”
Elspeth held up the letter. “Mairi.”
“Mairi?” His brow wrinkled. “How did she…never mind.”
She gathered her nerve for the next question. “How much was I priced at? I’m curious, you understand. A lass does like to know what she might fetch on the open market.”
He told her.
Ellie blinked, sure she’d misheard. “What?”
“Your father failed to pay back any interest over six years, which increased the total amount owed significantly. I was busy on the Continent for a while—the war, you understand”—the way he mimicked her phrasing cut her—“so I couldn’t press for payment.
And by the time I did get around to it, he was in no position to return even a portion of the loan. ”
“So you took me instead.”
“He offered you,” Struan growled. “He knew I wanted to marry.”
“Father said you chose me.”
Struan shrugged one shoulder. “That is a matter between you and your father. I told him I’d take you for a wife, and then his debt to me would be forgotten, if not forgiven. You came to the church. You went through the ceremony. You chose to accept.”
“Under false pretenses! I thought you wanted me.”
“I did.” Now he looked at her for a fleeting moment. “I do.”
“No, you wanted any woman who’d say yes. It didn’t matter who it was. I’m just to be a vessel for your eventual heir. Oh, Lord, Mairi was right this whole time. Marriage is a lie. It’s just a lie on top of a lie on top of another lie.”
“It’s not. I…” He seemed to be having difficulty speaking. “I care about you, Ellie.”
How she wanted to hear that. How she craved it. But wasn’t craving a dream what got her into this mess? “You say you care. But not enough to tell me the truth. You let me believe a fantasy. So you can’t care all that much.”
“I went through fire to get you,” he said, and his voice crackled in her ears.
She shook her head, too overwhelmed to fully take in his words. She could only catch the sound and throw it back. “Then you can go through fire to leave me. I never want to see you again.”