Chapter Nine
C hristine was so weary by the time they reached the end of their fourth full day of travel, she was ready to alight from the carriage and tell Kerrigan she was going to make her home right there in that very spot. However, he patted her hand as if she were a cranky bairn and merely smiled at her and told her they still had another three or so days of travel after they crossed the border.
She sighed at that news. “I didn’t realize how far London is from the Scottish border.”
“Aye, lass, ’tis true. But I want to make sure we are across the border as soon as we can be so yer uncle with his documents and panels doesna matter.”
She groaned and shifted once again. At least with them this far from London, she hoped there was little chance her uncle would find them. Or even make the effort to do the travel. The constant rolling of the carriage wheels, the bumps under her bottom and the boredom were about to make her crazy.
“Once we are beyond Gretna Green there is a nice little village I passed on my way to London where we can stop and visit for a couple of days. ’Twas to be a surprise but since ye’re looking so miserable, I thought it might perk ye up a bit if ye kenned we’re about to take a break in our travel. I told our driver he can return once we arrive, and we will secure another carriage there for the rest of the trip.”
She couldn’t stop the grin that broke out on her face and to her utter humiliation tears flooded her eyes. “Oh, thank you so much. I’m afraid I’m not used to so much travel.”
He smiled back at her. “Gretna Green is right over the border between Scotland and England. With stops ’tis still a four-day trip from there to Luffness, though.” He leaned back in the carriage and rested his foot on his knee. “Do ye ken couples who have eloped to Gretna Green?”
“Not personally, but the ton just loves to hear such things. It gives them gossip for weeks. Especially when family members—brothers and fathers—race after them attempting to stop the marriage.”
He smirked. “Like yer uncle wants to annul our marriage to get his hands on money that is no’ his.”
She fought a yawn and nodded. “Yes. Sometimes it comes down to money, but other times it’s a matter of control. The family wants to dictate who the young woman can or cannot marry.”
He nodded, a smirk on his face. “Again, like yer uncle.”
She smiled. “But we thwarted him.”
Kerrigan shook his head. “During my few visits to London, and spending time with Devon, I ne’er understood why people have so little to do that they are interested in what others are doing. In my world, we all must work hard.”
“Oh, my dear husband. You have no idea how much the ton loves gossip. And you are correct. Since earning one’s living is considered beneath one’s dignity, there is quite a bit of time for examining others’ lives.”
“And from what I saw when I was visiting gambling houses with Lord Devon, there are many men who spend most of their time losing their family’s fortunes.”
The carriage made a turn in the road and a picturesque view of small farms set between two hills greeted them. “It is most distressing when a young man inherits a title long before he is ready for such a responsibility. Oftentimes he spends more time enjoying his money than protecting it. And the ones who suffer are the rest of his family. A man with a title has a duty to see that his mother and siblings are provided for, and have what they need.”
Kerrigan shifted, disgust on his face. “In our world, there are those who inherit a Lairdship before their time, but there is a Council to advise the lad to avoid such problems.”
Remembering things she had heard her papa speak of after reading newspapers she said, “Have things been hard for your clan? I mean, before the problem with the sheep.”
He looked out the window at the passing scenery. “Aye. Yer English made sure they no’ only took over our country, after the Culloden slaughter, but with the Clearances, so many clans split up and folks had to move to North America. The English threw the farmers off the land and brought in their own herds of sheep. So many had no choice but to pack up their families and leave.”
Silence reigned for the next couple of hours and just as Christine thought she would fall asleep, she peeked out the window and sat up, her eyes wide as they rounded another curve in the road. “I can see the village from here.”
Sitting close to a loch, the village looked charming and inviting. As they grew closer, it showed many shops, vendors and crofters in the center of the small town. She also noticed two inns, one facing the water.
Fisherman were pulling in their boats for the day. There appeared to be a great deal of bantering back and forth among the men as their day came to an end. “What are the young boys doing?” Christine asked as they watched the activity. Young boys ran in between the boats, lugging nets full of fish to the wharf.
Kerrigan leaned forward, looking out the window as the carriage proceeded to the center of the village. “They are lugging the fish to where they will be sorted and prepared for sale tomorrow.”
For all the times she’d eaten fish dishes at dinner parties and her own home, she never once thought about the men who caught the fish, and those involved in the sorting and sale of them. And the cleaning. She shuddered. But then, she was still wrestling with how to clean her own body in her bath without a maid.
Kerrigan was more than happy to stop for a day or two himself. As much as he would have preferred to travel riding Fergus, he felt an obligation to ride with his new wife, rather than abandoning her to travel alone.
He wouldn’t exactly say they’d settled into a married couple’s routine, but he felt comfortable with Christine, which he hadn’t thought was possible when he was speaking with Mrs. Dove-Lyon about a possible marriage with an unknown lass. He was anxious for them to arrive at Luffness Castle, so Christine could take over the managing of the keep, which was badly needed.
When he had left, things had been in shambles. Llioni was in charge of the kitchen, but did not get along well with the lasses who did a lot of the work, with squabbles erupting all the time. Isla was supposed to be helping Llioni, but they also didn’t get along.
The few maids they were able to afford were overworked and, therefore, grumpy. Now that he had more money, he would like to have Christine hire more help. That would probably make for more pleasant working conditions.
She also needed to take over as chatelaine and make sure the larders were stocked and the vegetable garden tended to. There was just so much to do since his ma passed two years before, shortly after his two sisters married. One moved to Canada and one to Australia. The absence of family was sorely felt in the keep.
“It appears we’ve arrived at the Cock and Hen. I have passed through this village a few times before and I know this place to be clean, comfortable, and with tasty and generous food.”
“I will just be glad to get out of this carriage. I would love to walk around for a bit, if that is acceptable to you.”
“Of course. We will go inside to register and arrange for another carriage to be readied for us in a few days as well as speak with the stable lad about my horse. Then we shall stroll the marketplace.”
The inn was as he remembered it from a few years before, the last time he passed through the area. The innkeeper was younger than he remembered but most likely he was the son who had taken over when his parents grew too old.
They were welcomed and shown into a large, corner bedchamber with a window that overlooked the harbor.
Christine turned from the window. “While we are here, I would like to purchase a few garments. I left my Papa’s house with very little and even less when we left Mr. Kendall’s brother’s townhouse.”
“’Tis a good idea. I can use a few new items myself.”
They washed the road dust off them and proceeded out the front door and into the busyness of the village.
“Oh, look, Kerrigan. Ribbons. I could certainly use a few new ones.”
Not used to shopping with a wife, or with any woman for that matter, Kerrigan decided it was not something he would like to do ever again. Christine stopped at just about every vendor table, picking up little things here and there. She chatted with every vendor, also.
After what seemed like hours, Kerrigan took his timepiece from his pocket and declared, “Goodness, Chrstine. The hour grows late. We must return to the inn for our supper.”
She nodded at the woman she’d been speaking with, handed the bairn back to its mother, reminded the older man with the woman what he should do for his aches and pains, and finally, he was able to drag her off.
Kerrigan took her arm and marched her directly to the inn door, not allowing for anymore stops. What he’d needed to purchase had been done when they first arrived and took about ten minutes. They’d had all her acquisitions sent to the inn as she bought them.
He looked at the pile of bundles and bags in the corner of their bedchamber. “Lass, this will take up quite a bit of space in the carriage on the rest of the trip.”
Christine studied the stack of items she’d purchased, her index finger tapping her lips. “This is quite a bundle.” She turned to Kerrigan. “I had no idea I was buying so much.” Her shoulders slumped, a look of sadness on her face. “Do you think I should return some of this?”
His stomach twisted with the way she eyed her purchases. “Nay, wife. Doona fash yerself. We will be sure to secure a large enough carriage for the rest of the trip, and I can ride Fergus if it is verra crowded.”
He chuckled to himself, knowing that riding his horse in the fresh air would be a wonderful payment for all the hours spent crowded in the lack-of-air carriage.
The meal of very tasty lamb stew with side dishes of roasted vegetables, along with warm freshy-baked bread was everything Kerrigan remembered from prior visits. As they relaxed after dinner, Kerrigan enjoying a brandy and Christine a sherry, he looked at her across the table. “Ye look tired.”
“Yes, I am,” she said, covering her mouth with the back of her hand, stifling a yawn.
He sat back, crossed his arms over his chest and viewed her from underneath his eyelashes. “How tired are ye?”
Christine perked up. “Not that tired.”
Kerrigan downed the rest of his drink, stood, and held out his hand.