Chapter Fifteen #2
Disheartened about losing the battle against her insistent melancholy, she gave up on meandering any farther and sagged down onto a bench shielded by a screen of delicate orchids.
With an approving purr that sounded more like a happy chirrup, Amos jumped into her lap and settled down, kneading the folds of her gown as if making biscuits.
“When the weather warms enough for my finer silk and muslin gowns, we must discuss the use of your claws, sir,” she told the cat. “You will snag my skirts.”
The golden-eyed feline simply purred louder and worked his fluffy paws faster as if she hadn’t said a word.
“Typical male. Ignores a woman and does whatever he wants.” But she scratched behind his ears and under his chin. It wasn’t Amos’s fault she was in such a mood.
“What did my son do, lass?” Lady Evelyn stepped out from behind an enormous cluster of ferns. “Tell me so I might help ye.”
Desperate to share her woeful tale with someone other than the cat, her maid, or her unmarried sister, who had been no help at all, Merry patted the spot beside her. “Have a seat and take your cat. He is determined to use his claws.”
The dowager flounced down beside her, fluffing her full black skirts that weren’t quite the current style.
“Amos is one of the reasons I still wear black.” She winked as her long-haired pet hopped over onto her lap, curled into a contented ball of purring, and closed his eyes.
“The cat hair matches the shade of my clothes.”
“One of the reasons?” Merry had wondered about the dowager’s choice of dark apparel.
“My Catherine.” Lady Evelyn pulled in a deep breath and released it with a heavy sigh.
“I will forever mourn my precious daughter and the grandchild I never knew.” Then she smiled and gave Merry an affectionate pat.
“That is why we must repair this rift between yerself and Duncan. We need the sound of wee ones in this house.”
It was time for his mother to know the truth. Merry couldn’t bear dashing the kind lady’s hopes, but she had to be told. “Duncan refuses to father children, Lady Evelyn.”
“What?”
While Merry didn’t wish to go into crude detail, she wondered if Duncan’s own mother might possess some sound advice on changing his mind.
“He says bearing children is too dangerous. Therefore, he will not…” She cleared her throat, struggling to word things just so.
“He will not properly complete the act and risk fathering a child. And since he failed to inform me of his feelings on the matter until after we took our vows, he is no longer welcome in my bed.”
The dowager closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead as if stricken with a sudden pain. “Heaven help my poor boy.”
“I know his history, and I understand his fears, but this is not reasonable. One cannot protect someone from every possible danger that exists in this world.” Merry pinched the bridge of her nose, willing herself not to cry.
Too many useless tears had already been shed for this lost cause.
“I don’t know what to do. All I know is that I am miserable, and he seems to be miserable too. ”
“I am sure he is.” Lady Evelyn stroked the black cat’s head, ran her hand down his sleek back, then gently tugged on his fluffy tail. “And the bad thing about Duncan is that once he sets his mind a certain way, I dinna ken if we can ever change it.”
“He is simply not reasonable about this.” Merry hugged herself.
“I don’t wish to lose him to anything ill either, but one simply cannot live one’s life with constant thoughts of oh my goodness, what if.
” Trying to rock away her misery, she slowly shook her head.
“I love him, Lady Evelyn, but I am at a loss as to how to change his mind on this.”
“Seduce him.”
“He will simply do what he did on our wedding night.” Merry pushed herself up from the bench and paced like her brother always did when frustrated with a seemingly unsolvable problem.
She gave her mother-in-law a stern look.
“And I will not tolerate that. I told him he could not return to my bed until he was willing to love me fully and without fear.”
“His fears are founded,” Lady Evelyn said.
“His father ripped away anything that gave him any happiness, and then fate stole away his beloved sister. As twins, they always shared a special bond. Catherine could always make him smile.” She gently put Amos onto the bench and rose to pace beside Merry.
“He once described you as the shining star that beat back the terrors of his darkness. He needs ye, lass. Needs yer understanding.”
Before Merry could argue, the dowager lifted a hand and stopped her.
“I am not saying to go back on yer word. His deceiving ye was not acceptable. I am just asking that ye give him time…and kindness. Make him yearn for more, long for the completeness that can be his if he could only find the courage to embrace it.”
“I will be kind to him, but I will not give in.” Merry found her mother-in-law’s advice disappointing. She had hoped for more.
“That is all I ask, child. Try to be patient.”
Merry snorted such a loud huff that Amos lifted his head and glared at her. “Patience is not one of my virtues.”
Lady Evelyn laughed as she turned and started down the pathway leading to the exit. “It never was one of mine either, lass, but ye learn as ye age. Will ye be coming with me to the parlor for tea, then?”
“No, thank you. I need a bit of a walk, and with the rain, the conservatory is the perfect place for me and my moodiness right now.”
“As ye wish.” The dowager continued on her way, her black skirts swishing with every step.
Merry wandered deeper among the citrus trees, reaching up to run her hand through the smooth, glossy leaves. What a mess her life was. “I wish you were here, Mama. You would know what to do.”
As the youngest of eight and only ten and five when Mama—and then six months later, Papa—had passed, Merry hardly remembered a time when Mama hadn’t known what to do about any situation that arose.
Papa had always bragged that Mama had a unique way of looking at things, which always made things better.
How would Mama look at this bumble broth?
Unconditional love and perseverance.
The sentiments came to her as if Mama had whispered them in her ear. A heavy sigh left her. She had no problem loving Duncan, but the perseverance part was a chore. She hadn’t the patience for it.
“Merry?” Duncan’s deep voice, so near among the trees, startled her.
“I am here.” She turned, trying to see him in the shadows of the conservatory. The dreary day, with the rain softly pattering on the domed glass roof, left little light to be found.
He emerged on her left, ducking to pass through the lemon trees. “Are ye warm enough, lass?” He held up one of her wraps, both awkward and endearing, like a scolded pup attempting to win back its master’s favor.
Her wounded heart ached at the uncomfortable rift between them. She moved closer and turned so he could place it around her shoulders. “How very thoughtful. Thank you.”
As he wrapped it around her, he drew in and lingered, his warmth embracing her. She closed her eyes, fighting for control. Then he stepped back and broke the spell.
“I dinna wish ye to catch a chill. ’Tis a dreich day.”
“Indeed, it is,” she said. “But the conservatory is a lovely place to walk when the weather chooses to be disagreeable.”
“Ye like it here, then?” He eased into step beside her, behaving as if he expected her to send him away.
His leeriness felt like salt in a wound.
“Your mother was quite correct when she said Kirkston Place was nice,” Merry said, trying to sound appreciative.
This strained small talk made her nerves raw.
It was like dragging a jagged fingernail across silk.
She struggled to find something to discuss other than the most glaring subject that squatted between them like a horrendous toad.
“By the way, any time now, Felicity’s little one is due to arrive.
I always stay with my sisters for a few weeks and help with their babies until they get fully settled with the right nannies and nurses and such.
Sometimes, the first choice for those who care for the babies fails to work out. ”
He halted and stared at her as if she had cursed him. His dark brows knotted over his troubled eyes, making it seem as though he wished to speak but couldn’t find the words.
“Duncan?” Worried that some sort of ailment had struck him, she touched his cheek. Thankfully, he didn’t feel feverish. “What is it?”
“Will ye ever come back to me?” The strained hoarseness of his voice echoed with pain.
“Of course I will come back. Why would you ask such a thing?”
“Because I destroyed our bond.”
She wanted to hold him, reassure him, but still didn’t quite trust him yet. Not after the truth he had withheld from her. “I would not describe our bond as destroyed. It is merely badly bruised.”
He reached to touch her cheek, then stopped himself and let his hand fall back to his side. “So, ye will return? Ye promise?”
“I will always return to you.” She gathered her wrap closer, lonelier than she had ever felt before. “I love you, Duncan. Nothing will ever change that.”
“Ye have been so angry.”
With a nod, she slowly resumed their stroll. “Yes, I have been infuriated, but that doesn’t mean I stopped loving you.” A soft, huffing laugh escaped her. “That infuriated me, too.”
“I dinna understand.”
“I love a man held prisoner by his past, and I see no way of freeing him.” As they reached the farthest wall of the conservatory—a wall of glass—she drew closer to the windows and watched the raindrops as they skittered down the panes.
“If I were trapped in a doorless and windowless tower, would you not be furious that you couldn’t reach me? ”
“I would tear down the place with my bare hands. Stone by stone, if need be.”
Afraid to turn to him, she gave her reflection in the glass a sad smile. “I wish I could tear down your walls, Duncan. Truly, I do. My greatest wish for you is happiness without fear.”
“I am not happy now,” he said, moving to stand beside her and gaze out at their rain-soaked garden.
“Neither am I,” she confessed.
“But ye will come back? After ye’ve helped with yer sister’s bairn?”
“I promise, Duncan, I will always come back.”