Chapter 22 #2
His expression was anguished. “If I could change her thoughts, I would,” he vowed. “I am a marquis. Wealthy, powerful.” He tightened his fist. “Skilled with every kind of weapon. And yet . . .” His palm fell open. “I cannot seem to help her.”
If he was acting he was very accomplished. “I am sorry, my lord,” she said, and was surprised at her own earnestness. She’d never had a father that truly cared, and seeing it in another made her heart twist.
“Perhaps your gentle presence here will help her.”
Guilt seemed to come from all directions these days. Perhaps she was a fool to be here. Then again, just because he cared for his daughters did not mean that he was not planning some evil against the crown.
“In truth, my lord,” she said, careful now, and admittedly uncertain. “I am not altogether sure that Catherine abuses herself.”
He stiffened. “What?”
“Think of it,” she said. “It makes little sense for the girl to cause harm to herself. And she is so thin already. To miss another meal because of a torn gown . . .” She let her words fall away with a shrug.
He smiled. “So sweet you are, and young enough to believe you can set things right,” he murmured, and touched her face.
“Soft as a dream. Yet, not quite so, aye?” Brushing his knuckles across her cheek, he propped his fingers under her chin and lifted her face so that her eyes met his.
“’Tis very touching that you would wish to defend the girl,” he said. “But to accuse my sister—”
“Nay. Not your sister!” she said. “’Tis Colette I suspect.”
“Colette!” he gasped.
She watched him closely and kept her tone carefully soft. “I understand she may be dear to you, but—”
“Dear to me?” he asked, then sighed. “Ahh, so you are not so na?ve as you seem, my lady.”
She forced herself to be calm, to appear just as na?ve as she seemed. “She is a comely maid, my lord,” she said. “And you are a . . . charming master.”
“I admit that I have been lonely since my wife’s passing,” he said, and shook his head. “But if she is mistreating my children—”
“I am sure a gentleman like yourself will have no trouble finding a . . .” She searched wildly for the proper words. “Replacement.”
She slanted her gaze up through her lashes toward him. Up ahead a stone archway frowned down at her.
“’Tis certainly good to hear,” he said and smiled wearily as he followed her. “But I can hardly dismiss the maid without proof.”
“My lord—” she began, but he interrupted her.
“I will confront her this very evening. You have my vow, though I think you are far wrong.”
“Thank you, my lord.”
“You are most welcome. I but wonder if you might do me a favor in return.”
“A favor!” she said, then lowered her eyes and reestablished her breathy tone. “You wish a favor, my lord?”
“Aye,” he said, and gently pulled her to a halt in the archway. “If the truth be told, I wish many favors from you, Lady Rhona. But for now I only ask—”
“Your greatness!”
Lachlan’s jarring voice seemed to yank the marquis away by his collar. He turned to glance over his shoulder. “What is it?” His tone sounded less than congenial now.
“Master Unter bade me tell ye that yer dinner be ’ot.”
“What?”
“Yer dinner,” he repeated. He shuffled his feet. They looked strangely large and ungainly against the tight fabric of his hose. “’Tis ’ot.”
“Hot? Oh. Very well,” he said, and returned his attention to Rhona.
MacGowan cleared his throat.
The marquis scowled as he turned again. “There is something else?”
“Aye.” MacGowan had removed his tam and squeezed it between his huge hands like an uncertain lad before his master. “Beggin’ yer pardon, yer grace, but do ye ’ave an answer?”
“What?”
Lachlan jumped. “I be but wonderin’ when ’tis that you’ll et?”
The marquis stiffened and Rhona stepped away from the arch.
“In truth, your lordship,” she said, and found it difficult to stifle a grin, for seeing the MacGowan rogue acting like a cowed lowlander seemed far beyond belief. But then, the marquis had not seen him with a short sword in his hand. “I am quite famished and would eat soon rather than late.”
Lord Robert’s mouth softened slightly. “Very well then,” he said, and nodded curtly toward Lachlan. “Tell Unter we shall dine shortly.”
“Aye, yer grandness. Aye, I’ll tell ’im just that, I will,” MacGowan said, and without so much as glancing toward Rhona, bowed gracelessly and departed without another word.
Lord Robert glanced at her sheepishly. “Is your Welshman always your staunch defender?”
“Always, my lord,” she admitted.
He laughed, brushed his lips across her knuckles and escorted her to the dining hall. It took only a moment for Rhona to realize both girls were absent.
“Shall I fetch the wee ones for dinner?” she asked, addressing Lady Irvette.
“’Tis kind of you,” said the older woman. “But that won’t be necessary. They were fatigued. Colette already put them abed.”
Without another meal? Rhona could feel her spine stiffening. “Perhaps they are still hungry.”
“You are sweet to worry on their behalf,” murmured Lady Norval, and smiled shyly. “But you needn’t. Truly.”
“In truth, sister,” said the marquis. “Lady Rhona thinks Catherine is not abusing herself.”
The baroness’s eyes went wide, and when she drew her hand to her throat, it trembled slightly. “Whatever do you mean?”
The corner of his handsome mouth shifted slightly. “She thinks another is causing her injuries.”
She turned her large, faded eyes on Rhona. “Who then?”
“Lady Rhona thinks Colette may be the source of our troubles.”
“Colette?” Lady Irvette gasped. “Nay. Surely, it cannot be.”
“I spoke to Catherine,” Rhona said softly. “I am certain someone has struck her.”
“You spoke to her?” asked Lady Irvette. “And she accused Colette?”
Rhona drew a deep breath. “I am not certain—”
“If I have been mistaken I shall never forgive myself,” Lady Irvette whispered and rose awkwardly to her feet. “Excuse me,” she said. “I go to confront her this very moment.”
Rhona awoke early, for worry had prevented her from sleeping well. She had checked on Edwina the previous night, and although the girl had moaned in her sleep, she had seemed well enough. Catherine’s door, on the other hand, had remained locked.
She descended the stairs now, eager to talk to the girl.
“My bonny maid.” The marquis stood at the bottom of the stairs. “You must have read my mind. I was just now thinking about you.”
“Me, my lord?” She glanced past him toward the dining hall, hoping to catch a glimpse of her wards.
“Aye,” he said. “I was wondering if you would favor a bit of a ride. There is a fair outside the village and I would appreciate your company.”
“I thought I would spend some time with your daughters this morn.”
He took her arm. “I’ve given a good deal of thought to our discussion last night, and I’ve spoken to Colette.”
“What did she say?”
He shrugged. “She denied it.”
“She lies!”
He raised his brows at her sharp tone. “I am pleased that you have taken so much interest in them in such a short time, but Colette is a trusted—”
“She is bonny and she is willing and—” She stopped herself abruptly. “I am sorry, my lord,” she said and calmed herself. “But I think you may not be seeing things clearly.”
He looked at her closely. “Perhaps you are right,” he said. “Perhaps I have been blind to what is right before my very eyes. Ride with me, Lady Rhona.”
“I had planned to talk to your daughters.”
“Perhaps now would not be the best time. Besides, my sister has things well in hand. Indeed, I have rarely seen her so angry as she was last night.”
“So she spoke to Colette too.”
“Aye, we both did.”
“What did she say?” Rhona asked.
“The same that she told me.”
She said nothing, but perhaps he saw her anger.
“Sometimes I think you are not so mild as you seem, sweet Rhona,” he said.
“She struck your daughter,” she said.
“Are you so certain the girl does not harm herself?”
“Aye, I am.”
“Very well then,” he said, and nodded. “Then you have my word, if the girl shows new bruises, I will relieve Colette of her duties.”
“Thank you, my lord.”
He smiled. “Come then,” he said. “I will teach you much about my children’s former years. Colette’s departure will only increase your responsibility. I will arm you for the challenge.”
She was tempted to refuse, but her mission loomed large in her mind, and in the end, she knew what she must do.
Although she had not expected it, the day was not completely unpleasant.
They rode together down the winding avenue of the open countryside.
The weather was fine with a scattering of clouds overhead and the lightest of breezes from the southwest. The field maple and beech trees were showing the first signs of yellow in their uppermost leaves and a hint of autumn brightened the air.
The fair was good-sized, brightly colored and noisy. Seated on his cloak in verdant grasses, a troubadour played a vielle. The copper wires shone in the sunlight and on his golden hair. Across the way a fishmonger hawked his wares while his wife shooed off a beggar.
For the most part, Lord Robert ignored it all, but when Rhona stopped to admire a small leather purse, he purchased it without hesitation and handed it to her with a bow.
“Nay, I cannot accept it,” she said with sincerity, but he laughed away her objection and they continued on.
By nightfall, her emotions were in a strange tangle.
She had not come here to enjoy herself. Hardly that, but during the day she had learned a good deal about the girls’ formative years.
It seemed Lorna was not a doting mother, and Catherine had sorely missed the lack of maternal attention.
Lord Robert was oft busy elsewhere and had had little time to see to their needs himself.