Chapter 29
Cat woke up, alone.
She was in her own bedroom in the house in Edinburgh, having arrived late the previous evening.
There was no breakfast tray with tea, no fire crackling, because all the servants were gone.
Aunt Tacita would have instructed them that they wouldn’t need to return until she sent word, and they were all very likely taking advantage of their unexpected holiday.
Most of them would visit family normally out of reach, considering that most servants could expect only one day a month, besides half days on Sundays.
All of which meant that Cat would have to fend for herself until they either came back on some predetermined date, or she could send word to their housekeeper.
It was not the type of house meant to be lived in on one’s own.
“Oh, don’t be maudlin.” Cat flung aside the covers and got out of bed.
The house was so still. Cat had lived in the place her whole life, but never before had she been completely alone inside.
There had been her mother, her father (for a shorter time).
Always Brodie, whether in flesh or in spirit.
Then her aunt Tacita, stepping up to provide the care Cat needed when no one could have anticipated it would be necessary. And of course, the household servants.
The slightest sounds echoed strangely, bouncing off the walls and often tricking her into thinking that someone else must be there. Cat walked through rooms with little intention, but nearly every time she got ensnared in a memory, and more often than not, she found herself wiping away tears.
This place was meant for a whole family, generations living together with children and dogs running about, and friends visiting, and the servants making it all work. She sank onto a chair in the drawing room, which was dim and shadowy because no one was there to pull aside the curtains.
Finally, Cat had to admit to herself that she was lonely. For a brief time, she had been utterly swept up by Thane’s attention, and she’d mistaken her infatuation for love. She couldn’t have really fallen in love with him, could she? Not after what he revealed to her.
But if it wasn’t love, why did the very thought of him make her soul ache? Why did the idea of a long life lived without one more moment with him in it give her chills?
Oh, because she did love him. And over the past few days, when she was essentially solitary while among other travelers, Cat came to the understanding that she’d been horribly cruel to him in a moment when he needed kindness. Telling her the truth had been an act of bravery.
And she punished him for it.
Granted, he hadn’t chosen the best time to tell her.
But there probably wasn’t an optimal moment to confess such a thing.
And it wasn’t malice that got Brodie killed.
It was…a misjudgment. She knew better than anyone how persistent Brodie could be when he wanted something.
And if he decided that he ought to go on the mission assigned to Thane, he’d pester until he got it.
Would Cat be angry if Brodie had successfully carried out the mission and returned to the camp unharmed?
Of course not. She’d never know. So it wasn’t the action that she objected to. It was the result.
And that part was out of Thane’s hands, wasn’t it? War was uncertain and dangerous. If Thane had gone, he’d have died instead. How was that any better?
“Brodie, I don’t know what to do,” she murmured.
Coming back to the city had been a mistake.
Cat thought she’d feel secure in her own home.
But a house was just a shell. She’d left Tacita up in the Highlands.
She’d left Brodie’s old comrades. She’d left Effie, who’d shown her nothing but hospitality when she didn’t have to offer anything.
And she’d left Thane, who had promised to protect her, and had done so over and over.
Oh, Lord. She had behaved like a spoiled child, running off without the slightest idea of what she’d need to do to live on her own.
How mortifying it would be to crawl back there, to stand in front of Thane, and Tacita, and the others, and say Please forgive me, I was too busy being self-righteous to be sensible.
Would Thane even take her back? Did he know she was gone, or did her note and her carefully placed comments to the servants convince him that she was still at Effie’s home?
Cat curled up on the chair, her heart aching as she realized that what she truly, truly wanted was for Thane to hold her again, to kiss her and tell her that yes, they could be together.
She had to go back. As embarrassing as it would be, she had to go. A pilgrimage to burn away her pride.
It’ll go faster if you take a ship, Brodie’s voice said in her mind.
“Oh, shut up,” she grumbled, a faint smile nonetheless lifting her a tiny bit above the darkness. “I’m taking a coach…but not till tomorrow.”
Brodie’s answering laugh seemed to echo around her, and Cat felt a tiny bit less alone. She’d always have Brodie…their souls were intertwined.
She sighed into the pillow she and Brodie had made so long ago. Why did life have to be so difficult?
Why couldn’t she keep what she loved?
Then a sound, a real sound, jolted her into alertness. What was that?
The sound came again, and finally Cat recognized it as an energetic rapping on the front door.
She rose, thinking that someone must be quite keen on talking to her, since the door knocker had been removed when the house was shut up.
Ordinary people passing by would immediately know that the family was away.
And yet, someone seemed to know she was here.
Thane.
Cat’s heart leapt, and then her stomach dropped, a disconcerting pair of reactions that left her feeling a bit sick. He followed her! Even if he didn’t know for sure that Cat was here, he’d damn well look. That was the kind of man he was, relentless until he was satisfied.
A memory of his relentless efforts to satisfy her came to mind, and she flushed.
Another knock, even louder. Cat hurried to the foyer, thinking that she’d just peek out the window to verify it was Thane. Thane wouldn’t actually break into the house to satisfy his curiosity, would he?
Oh, he would.
Cat steeled herself.
It wasn’t Thane.
On lifting the curtain just enough to peep out to the steps, she saw the bottom third of a woman’s gown. Robin’s-egg blue, which was certainly not Thane’s color.
Suddenly weak with relief, Cat reached for the key in the lock and turned it. She could speak to a stranger without losing her composure. This woman must have the wrong address, or she was collecting for charity or some other purpose. Cat opened the door. “Excuse me, but—”
“Catriona Ross!” Miss Fairchild said with evident relief. “My goodness, am I glad to see you. We were so worried after that terrifying scene in the park! I wrote several times, but never got an answer.”
“I was away,” Cat replied dumbly. The scene in the park? It took her a moment to recall it—it seemed to have occurred eons ago. “I thought it best to get out of town for a while.”
“You poor dear, you must have been beside yourself.”
After a moment, Cat realized that she was being rude by making the other woman stand on the doorstep. If the footmen had been here, this all would have gone so smoothly. “Would you like to come in? Pardon me, I’m not quite up to entertaining. All the servants are still gone…”
Miss Fairchild stepped inside, saying, “I’ll just stay for a short while, to ensure you’re taken care of. Goodness, it’s like a tomb in here! Are you really all alone? Have you informed the servants they ought to return? How are you eating, dear?”
“Oh.” Cat frowned. When had she eaten last? She remembered buying a meat pie from a vendor on the street when she arrived in the city, but had she eaten since? “I believe there’s something in the pantry. If you’ll wait in the parlor…”
“Nonsense, dear. Let me help.” Miss Fairchild put an arm about Cat’s waist and steered her toward the kitchen. The woman seemed perfectly at home, firing up the little coal stove and filling the kettle with water from a bucket (Cat had remembered to get fresh water from the well, at least).
Between them, they managed to find cups, plates, and some shortbread from a tin to assemble on a tray.
The result looked almost like a proper tea.
The whole time, Miss Fairchild kept up a chatter about events in Edinburgh, what the ladies’ league had been up to, and how much Catriona had been missed by her compatriots.
“Mrs Roberts talks about you incessantly, you know. I expect she wants to pass the torch of leadership to you when she’s ready to retire. ”
“I don’t deserve it,” Cat mumbled. Lord, she’d been within inches of throwing away all her principles to give herself in marriage to a man just because he turned her head. She had no business telling other women how to live independently.
“I told her you’d say something like that. You’re so humble, Miss Ross.” Miss Fairchild smiled at her, her teeth flashing for just a moment as she turned toward the light. “Well, I think everything is ready. Lead the way to the parlor, won’t you?”
Miss Fairchild took charge of the big tray, holding it firmly with lace-gloved hands. Cat led her to the parlor, and took a seat while Miss Fairchild poured.
“Sugar?” she asked, even as she dropped two lumps into the otherwise perfect brew.
Cat didn’t take sugar, but it seemed churlish to refuse the offered cup, and anyway she’d have to go back to the kitchen to get another. She’d just drink one overly sweetened cup and then fill the next herself.
Miss Fairchild sat back, sipping from her own cup and then giving a sigh of satisfaction. “Ah, there’s nothing like a proper cup to set one to rights. Don’t you find tea so restoring?”