Chapter 3
“C
ome,” Eleanor said, putting an arm around Laura’s waist. The infant had begun to wail again, and she was becoming more and more distressed as she listened to the heartrending cries.
“We must find the baby a wet nurse, he is very hungry.” Her expression was one of deep concern, but it changed to a smile of reassurance as she saw Laura’s face.
As they made their way inside the castle, Laura saw a young blonde woman approaching them, a quizzical but welcoming smile on her beautiful face.
“Auntie Ellie! Auntie Nella!” she said as she walked up to them. She stopped beside Laura and the baby. “Poor wee thing! Is he hungry?”
Eleanor almost laughed. Charlotte was English, but since she had fallen in love with and married Laird Kenneth Grant, her accent and vocabulary were changing and becoming more and more Scottish by the day.
“Yes, but unfortunately, Laura cannot feed him,” Eleanor replied.
Charlotte immediately called for one of the maidservants, “Can you please let Maisie know that I need her?”
“Of course, m’lady.” The young woman nodded and smiled as she curtsied, then went to obey the order, and Laura realised how well-liked and respected the mistress of the castle had become, despite her English heritage.
Charlotte looked down into the little screaming face, her expression one of deep sympathy. “Is his father not with you?” she asked. Immediately the eyes of all three of the women swivelled to Nicholas, who was standing with his eyes downcast, looking extremely uncomfortable.
“Yes,” Fenella explained, her voice harsh with suppressed anger. “This is him.” She pointed at him, frowning fiercely.
Charlotte’s mouth dropped open and she stared at Nicholas in astonishment for a moment before her expression changed to one of black disapproval and she shook her head and turned back to talk to the other women.
“I am Charlotte Grant, the Laird’s wife,” she said warmly to Laura. “You said your name was Laura?”
“Yes, my Lady,” Laura replied. Then, thinking it was better not to reveal her true identity as yet, she said: “Laura Carrington.” She had chosen the first name that jumped into her mind, that of her former ladies’ maid.
At that moment Kenneth stepped up beside his wife, putting an arm around her shoulder. There was an air of protectiveness about him, and Laura felt a stab of envy as she watched Charlotte look up at him adoringly. To have the love of a man like the Laird was every woman’s dream.
“What is going on?” he demanded. “Nick, are you going to take responsibility for this child?” There was a challenging look in his eyes as he stared at the other man.
“Can we leave all this till later?” Charlotte asked. “Laura is clearly exhausted, and I can completely understand why. You have obviously been through something quite traumatic today. What is it?”
Fenella answered for her, stepping in front of Laura as if to shield her. “Yes, Lottie, you are right, there is something else you must know,” she replied. She took a deep breath. “Laura fell foul of Crowley and his minions, but Nicholas and his men took care of them.”
“Crowley?” Kenneth’s voice was a furious bark, and his face became thunderous; even Charlotte looked stricken.
Laura felt as though the whole atmosphere had suddenly become as hot as a furnace as she looked around at their angry faces.
They obviously had some kind of history with the odious lout, and hated him as much as she did.
“What does he have to do with this?” he demanded furiously, striding up to stand before Nicholas.
Again, Fenella intervened. “We will leave you to discuss it,” she said firmly. “The baby needs us more.” She put an arm around Laura and drew her away. Charlotte smiled at Laura and led them to a small parlour where a plump young red-haired woman was standing waiting for them.
“Maisie,” Charlotte said, politely but warmly. “This lady has had a very bad shock, and her milk has dried up so that she cannot feed her baby. Could you help her please?”
Maisie took one look at the crying infant and immediately drew him out of Laura’s arms and into her own. “Poor wee thing,” she said gently. “Of course I will help him, Milady. What is his name?”
“He does not have one yet,” Laura answered sadly. “But he will as soon as I can find one that suits him.”
Maisie nodded, then smiled at Laura. “Dinnae fret, Mistress. I will look after him now an’ bring him back when he is ready.” She gave a brief curtsey and left. Laura’s eyes followed her anxiously, and Charlotte noticed.
“Be at ease, Laura,” she said soothingly. “He is safe and in good hands. Maisie is a wonderful mother, she just had her baby three months ago.”
At that moment the door opened and Nicholas appeared. He was outwardly calm, but Laura sensed an underlying tension within him. His glance flickered over her for a second before coming to rest on Charlotte.
“You wanted to see me.” It was a statement rather than a question, and to Laura’s ears it lacked the respect that Charlotte was due.
“Yes, Nick,” Charlotte replied coldly. “I want you to show Laura to the same chamber you took me to when I first came here. Make sure she is comfortable.” She handed him a key then turned her back on him and sat down with her aunts.
Nicholas bowed dutifully and opened the door for Laura, then escorted her to the room Charlotte had requested. Not a word was spoken between them as they walked through the long corridors, and when they finally arrived, he opened the door and stepped aside to let her enter.
Laura was pleased with the clean, bright chamber and turned to thank him, but she never got the chance, as Nicholas caught her by her upper arms and backed her against the wall.
“Let me go!” she gasped, utterly terrified as she looked up into his furious green eyes.
“Not until you tell me what is going on,” he growled. “I have never set eyes on you before. What do you want from me?”
“I-I only want protection,” she replied, her voice trembling. “The baby is yours. I need your help to look after him.”
He stared at her for a moment longer, then said: “I would have remembered lying with you. I have only known a few Englishwomen.”
“You were not sober at the time,” Laura replied sharply. She was lying through her teeth, but she could not help her rage. The baby’s mother, Mairi, was probably dead by now, having suffered more than this arrogant man could ever comprehend, yet he simply did not care.
For the first time a seed of doubt was planted in Nick’s mind. He was prone to losing his memory after a drinking spree, and he could not deny it. Was she telling the truth? There was a small chance that she was, but he was not yet ready to give up.
“If I fathered this baby, why did you not tell me sooner?” he asked. “You had months to do it.”
“I was afraid of your reaction,” Laura replied bitterly, then she sighed and flopped down into a chair, suddenly too tired to argue any more. Lack of sleep and emotional strain had caught up with her, and all she wanted now was to be left alone.
Nicholas stood silently looking down at her for a moment, then he said: “I will have some food and a bath brought to you. We can talk later when you are rested and feel better. Is there anything else you need?”
Laura shook her head, looking so miserable that for the first time Nicholas’s conscience prickled. “Till later,” he said, and left.
Nicholas had been unable to think of anything but the Englishwoman and the baby all day.
He had practised archery, duelled with his sword, wrestled and sparred with the strongest of his men in an effort to distract himself.
However, his efforts were in vain; no matter what he did, the vexing matter of the child and his mother would not leave his mind.
When his shift was finished early in the evening he decided to go and see Kenneth. He had decided that talking with Laura was akin to banging his head against a brick wall: it only caused more frustration and confusion.
Accordingly, he trudged to Kenneth’s study, passing Laura’s room on the way.
He quickened his step as he walked by her door, dreading that at any moment she might come out to accost him and throw more accusations at him.
The thought was too awful to contemplate, and he shook his head and broke into a run.
Kenneth rose from his desk as Nicholas opened the door to his study, then sat down, looking weary.
It had been a very long day for both of them, and neither of them was in the mood for spending time with the ladies.
Now was the time for men’s talk; the matter of the paternity of the baby still had to be determined, and a conversation with the women would be pointless.
It would only mean a flurry of accusations and would end in more tears.
“Bad day?” Kenneth asked, raising his eyebrows questioningly as he poured some of his best whisky into a glass which he handed to his friend.
Nicholas accepted the drink gratefully, forcing himself to sip it instead of throwing it down his throat in one gulp as he felt inclined to do. He sighed and passed a hand over his eyes, suddenly feeling utterly exhausted.
“I don’t think I have ever had a worse one,” he replied wearily. “That woman keeps insisting that the baby is mine, but she has absolutely no proof. What am I going to do?”
“Do you have any proof that it’s not your child?” Kenneth asked, narrowing his eyes as he looked at his friend. “After all, I have seen you thoroughly bevvied before on many occasions.”
Nicholas looked up, frowning ferociously. “I could say the same of you!” he protested indignantly. “Before you became the Laird you were a bigger rogue than I was!”
“I do not deny it,” Kenneth replied with a nonchalant shrug, “we were as bad as each other, but I am not the one being accused of fathering a child.”
Nicholas jumped to his feet and gave an almighty sigh, then began to pace the room restlessly, shaking his head.
“I have no idea what to do next,” he said, running his hands over his hair in a gesture of great agitation.
He turned to his friend, looking at him keenly.
“What would you do if you were in my shoes, Kenny?”
Kenneth took a sip of his whisky, frowning. “I think I would try to do the honourable thing,” he replied. “I would take responsibility for the two of them, make sure they are fed, clothed and sheltered. You have the means, Nick. You are not a poor man, at least I hope not!”
Nick gave Kenneth a faint smile. “No, I am not poor, my Laird,” he said.
“Thanks to you, I am well paid and able to provide for both of them. But should I? Is it really my duty? What if I am being used? What if the real father ran away from his responsibility and I am a convenient substitute? After all, she did not choose an ordinary guard. I have the highest rank and I am the best paid of all the soldiers in the garrison. And she was with Crowley, what if she was sent to spy on us or worse?”
Kenneth studied Nicholas intently for a moment.
He had never seen his friend looking so worried about anything before; usually Nicholas was flirtatious and playful with the ladies, light-hearted and insouciant with his male friends.
This was a side of him he could truthfully say he had never seen before.
At last he said, “Use your conscience, Nick. You’re a good man, although if you tell anyone I said that I will deny it till my last breath!”
Nick laughed, feeling the muscles of his face stretching as if they had not done so for ages. ‘Trust Kenny to make a joke at a time like this,’ he thought wryly.
“I think you should take them both under your wing,” Kenneth went on. “Give Laura the benefit of the doubt. It can do no harm, and I can see that Lottie and the Aunties want to lend a hand too. You will not be alone.”
Nick nodded resignedly. “I know you are right, Kenny,” he conceded. “But it all feels so strange. Most men have time to become used to the idea of fatherhood, but this was all so sudden.”
He looked so worried that Kenneth patted him on the shoulder and said soothingly, “I think you will make a very good father.”
Nicholas stared at his friend incredulously. “Really? Nay, you are saying that to make me feel better!” He swallowed the last of his whisky.
“I think you will,” Kenneth assured him. “You will be able to understand him, because at heart you are still a little boy yourself! And if she proves to be lying, then she’ll get punished properly along with that scunner Crowley.”
Nicholas nodded, at least he had his Laird by his side.