Chapter 1 #2
The coach slowed before the house. Mrs. Parker was the first to disembark. Before leaving the vehicle, Riona turned and stared into the shadows at Maureen. Her sister remained silent, no more communicative now than she’d been during the entire journey.
“Do you think I should marry him?”
Nothing but silence.
“Tell me truthfully.”
“I cannot, Riona,” her sister said faintly. “Your future is tied to my own happiness. It would not be fair for me to tell you what to do. You must make your own choice.”
“Even if it makes you miserable?”
Another pause. “Yes,” Maureen said finally.
Riona left the carriage, fervently wishing that her sister wasn’t such a very nice person.
The knock was loud enough to be heard on the second floor of the manor house.
“They’re here, mistress,” Polly said.
Polly’s soft blue eyes looked worried as she chewed on her bottom lip.
The woman was past the first blush of youth, her shape once as rotund as an apple.
Over the past year, however, she’d lost weight.
Along with the reduction in her girth had come a new nervousness.
She was constantly wringing her hands or tapping her foot.
Once, she’d worn her hair tucked neatly into a bob behind her head.
Since she’d come to Tyemorn Manor, however, the style was more severe, pulling at Polly’s temples until her blue eyes appeared forever startled.
Susanna McKinsey calmly finished tidying her hair as Polly fidgeted beside her, first standing on one foot, then the other. With the ease of practice, Susanna ignored her, finally moving her brush to where it belonged on the lace-covered dressing table.
Staring at herself in the mirror, she surveyed her appearance.
Her face was narrow, but relatively unlined.
Her eyes were the same shade of blue as Maureen’s.
Her chin was, perhaps, too pointed. There was nothing at all she could do about her high forehead and widow’s peak except ensure that her hairstyle was flattering.
Her lips, in better times, were acceptable, she supposed.
At the moment, however, they looked thin, almost disappearing into her face. As if she were as worried as Polly.
“I’m in no hurry to greet them, Polly,” she admitted. “I cannot imagine what Riona has done.”
“Nothing, I’ll wager,” Polly said loyally. “That Mrs. Parker grates on the nerves, she does. No doubt our Riona simply had enough.”
“She was never a wild child.” Susanna met Polly’s gaze in the mirror. “In fact, of the two girls, Riona was always the more responsible.”
“Well, something’s happened, that’s for sure, else the woman wouldn’t have sent you that letter.”
Mrs. Parker’s note still remained on the top of her dressing table, having been delivered only a few hours ago. The contents left nothing to the imagination as far as the woman’s feelings about her older daughter. The only thing lacking from the missive was the exact nature of Riona’s failing.
The knock came again, imperious and impatient. Susanna sighed and stood.
“Your daughter is a wayward young woman,” Mrs. Parker said a few moments later as she sailed over the threshold.
As a greeting, it was terse and to the point, Susanna thought, following the woman into the parlor.
“How is she wayward?”
Mrs. Parker resembled a plump crow in her severe black. No, not a crow, but a disapproving bird of prey with an angled beak and beady, focused eyes.
Susanna managed to compose herself, standing with hands folded decorously in front of her as both her daughters entered the room.
There wasn’t time for a greeting because Mrs. Parker raised her hand and shook her finger in Susanna’s face.
“If you do not curtail her now, she will ruin everything we have worked so hard to achieve. My reputation is at stake, madam.”
“What has she done?” she asked, glancing at Riona.
“Allowed a young man the freedom of her person.”
Susanna sat heavily on one end of the settee, the fingers of one hand clenched around the brooch at her neck. “Is this true, Riona?” she asked her elder daughter.
Riona said nothing in response, a telling absence of explanation. Mrs. Parker nodded, appearing vindicated, while Maureen, who’d come to sit beside her, looked merely miserable. Her eyes were reddened from weeping, and her hands clutched a sodden lace handkerchief.
“Tell me the whole story,” she said, turning to Mrs. Parker once more.
The older woman related the tale, halting at frequent intervals to frown at Riona.
“She and Harold McDougal were seen entering the garden and leaving some five minutes later. Riona’s dress was torn, and her hair askew.
Not only did she show a lack of decency in refusing to absent herself from the guests, she acted in the most forward manner, almost daring anyone to chastise her for her behavior.
When I insisted that she should at least demonstrate a little shame, she told me some story about being lured into the garden.
It matters little why she was there, madam.
All that is important is her behavior while she was alone with a young man. That was, and remains, deplorable.”
“How many people know of this encounter?” Susanna asked.
Mrs. Parker responded quickly. “All of the guests at the party. Maureen’s betrothal is in jeopardy. There are too many proper young women in Scotland for Captain Hastings to settle for one whose family is tinged by scandal.”
How many of them were possessed of a considerable fortune? A question Susanna decided not to ask.
“If she marries the young man, we can let it be known that she was carried away with an excess of youthful exuberance, predating the marital bed by some weeks. But if she steadfastly refuses to marry, the world will see her as a strumpet, a young woman of loose morals. That will surely seal Maureen’s fate. ”
“And who is this Harold McDougal?” Susanna asked.
“I am, madam.”
To her surprise, a young man stood in the doorway.
At first glance, he looked amenable enough.
Of average height, with brown hair and flashing hazel eyes.
But there was something about him that she didn’t like, an instantaneous feeling that had less to do with logic and more to do with instinct.
She’d been a widow for some years, had relied upon her own judgment when boarders had come to her small house in Cormech seeking a room.
On more than one occasion, she’d turned away a potential source of income simply because of a first impression.
“I was the one who led her into sin, madam,” he confessed, looking down at the floor, studying either the oak boards or perhaps his dusty boot tops.
Strange, but he didn’t look all that contrite.
Sly, but not clever, for all that.
“I cannot deny that there was an attraction between us, ma’am,” he said, his eyes still downcast. “But I was wrong to encourage it. Of the two of us, I should have been stronger.”
That statement had Mrs. Parker nodding in agreement.
Riona, however, snorted in a thoroughly unladylike manner.
“But I’ve come to make amends now,” he said, and for the first time raised his head to stare directly at her. “I would take your daughter to my wife.”
“I agree that my daughter’s behavior sounds dreadful,” she said calmly. “However, you will grant me the license to speak with her before I make a decision.”
“I would be a good husband,” he continued, as if she hadn’t spoken. “I’ve some family property. And plans for the future.”
“Do any of those plans include my daughter’s fortune?” Susanna asked bluntly. She could hear Mrs. Parker’s indrawn breath.
Neither she nor Mrs. Parker had been born to wealth. Mrs. Parker made her living as a matchmaker, chaperone, and governess of sorts, escorting young women through the perils of society. For that she was paid a handsome sum.
As to Harold, Susanna wasn’t na?ve about the effect of Riona’s inheritance on a young man’s fancy. Harold’s heart might be engaged, but she would wager that he had found it easier to fall in love with an heiress than a woman without a fortune.
“I am aware that your daughter is an heiress, ma’am,” Harold said stiffly, all righteous anger and indignation. “But I would have loved her had she been penniless.” His words met with Mrs. Parker’s murmur of approval.
“A pity that we can’t test your fidelity,” Susanna said dryly.
She stood, nodding to Polly. “The decision will be made, but it will not be made tonight,” she said. “For now I think it would be better if we retired to our rooms.” She nodded to Harold. “If you will give us a few moments, I’ll have a chamber prepared for you.”
He bowed smartly and smiled his acceptance, the expression no doubt meant to be disarming.
She sent Maureen to her room with a whisper that she’d visit her later, then turned to Mrs. Parker. “Shall I send a slight repast to your chamber?”
“You’re not putting me where I stayed last, I trust?” the other woman asked querulously. “The wind is simply too fierce. I would prefer a south-facing room.”
Susanna didn’t bother telling the woman that there were no south-facing rooms. She only nodded, resigned to having Mrs. Parker as a guest once again. Glancing at Riona, she summoned her with a nod. They met in the hallway outside the parlor.
“I cannot marry him, Mother,” Riona said stonily, after the double doors were closed. “I won’t. I’ve done nothing wrong.”
“Sometimes the appearance of impropriety is all that’s necessary,” Susanna said. “There is Maureen’s happiness to consider.”
The fact that Captain Hastings was visibly in love with Maureen was the only bright spot in the entire situation.
“Is there nothing else I can do, short of marriage?”
She glanced at her daughter, sighing. For the first time in many months, she wished Fergus were near.
Her former boarder and longtime friend would have advised her on how to handle this situation.
Riona and Fergus had always been close, her daughter coming to view the older man almost as the father she missed so much.
“If there is something, I cannot think what it might be.”
There were Captain Hastings and Maureen to consider. What man in good standing would wish to align himself with a family riddled in rumor and innuendo? A fortune could not purchase respectability.
“I want more in my life,” Riona said, her contempt for Harold McDougal showing in her eyes, and her stubbornness in the set of her chin.
Susanna could not honestly blame Riona for her feelings.
A lesson in human nature she’d learned long ago.
The more flattering the prose, the less substance the remark.
So far, Harold had not impressed her with his sincerity.
“Your father once said much the same thing to me,” she said. “Before he went to sea again. He never found what he wanted, but I could never have stopped his looking. Nor would it have ever occurred to him that following his dreams would pain those he left behind.”
Riona looked stricken. Harsh words, perhaps, but the truth was often cruel.
“Sometimes,” Susanna added, “we must put our own happiness aside for those we love.”
She left Riona then. After arranging for the comfort of her guests and visiting with Maureen, Susanna retreated to her own chamber.
This room was her haven, the place where no problems intruded, no cares were allowed past the door.
Between the two long windows was a large, comfortable chair and there she sat and sewed most days.
“Why do you not come down to the parlor?” Polly had asked her a few months back.
A moment had passed before she’d realized the answer.
In Cormech, the parlor had been a communal place for her boarders to sit in the evening.
She’d become accustomed to the sanctity of her chamber.
Even after all this time in a new house and with only her family in residence, she still found herself coming here.
Perhaps because the sheer size of Tyemorn Manor was disconcerting.
Or it might simply be that she had become a creature of habit after all these years.
There was only one exception, and that was when she and Old Ned discussed the ledgers. Susanna found herself sitting companionably with him in the library on those nights. Almost as she and Fergus had once done around the kitchen table.
Sitting in her favorite chair, Susanna pulled her lap desk close. She didn’t know quite what to do, and there was only one person whose judgment she trusted implicitly. Fergus MacRae. If anyone could talk some sense into Riona, he could.
Swiftly, she began to write, each word interspersed with a sigh, and the whole of it blessed with a prayer.