Chapter 11
The Hollingsborn estate was absolutely lovely, the lake positively glistened in the early afternoon sunlight, and the little rowboats with the brightly dressed guests paddling through the gently rippling water added to the peaceful, charming scene.
That Catie could one day be the mistress of this place didn’t cheer her one bit.
Her mood over the last week hadn’t been close to peaceful, and it was a strain to continually act charming to everyone around her.
Ever since she’d read the terrible letter from her brother Lachlan, and seen the frightening, confusing instructions hidden under Miss Burnet’s bed, she’d been watching Quinn and her chaperone like a hawk.
The first morning after her spying activities, all the distressing information barely sorted in her mind, she’d decided she needed to pretend she hadn’t learned any of it.
She shouldn’t have gone snooping around, and it served her right to be upset by things she didn’t understand, and clearly wasn’t supposed to know about.
But when Miss Burnet and Quinn started whispering to one another, noses practically touching, all while continuously glancing her way, she’d become paranoid and angry.
She was done being lied to and kept in the dark.
Something was definitely sinister about Miss Burnet’s letter.
The intense and specific instructions were very different from the scary mish mash of chants and blood-letting she’d read in Lachlan’s letter but both their intents were the same. To travel to the future.
It was madness, but the fact remained that her brother was gone.
Missing. She’d been told he was killed, but now all evidence said that wasn’t the case.
The one thing she knew about her oldest brother Lachlan was that he valued responsibility above all else.
He constantly berated Quinn about his lack of it, and always tossed in a few sermons to her on the occasions they were together.
If the madness about traveling to the future was true, and it made her dizzy to entertain the notion, then her brother was in trouble. There was nothing short of death that could make Lachlan leave his family and all the people who counted on his decisions, in the hands of Quinn.
Quinn gambled too much, was a bit loose with women, raided around the countryside and forgot birthdays— really the list of reasons not to put him in charge of a henhouse was longer than the road to London.
To put him in charge of their clan had to be nothing short of desperation. Something worse than death.
Catie rubbed her sleep deprived eyes when a sudden gust of wind almost knocked her into the lake from the little dock she stood on. She realized she’d been obsessing again, holding her breath and tensing her muscles, probably pulling an unpleasant face on top of it all.
Edwin looked at her quite oddly and she forced herself to relax and smile.
She shook out the fishing line she held and tried a tinkling laugh she copied from a popular girl she’d met at a different party a few nights before.
In truth, she was exhausted from all the smiling and laughing and dancing.
She knew Edwin was only after her money.
She’d found out exactly how much she was worth from listening to gossip.
The knowledge was another log to throw onto the rage fire she’d been stoking against her brother.
Why couldn’t he be honest about anything?
“I canna believe how terrible I am at fishing,” she said, trying not to roll her eyes.
“Am I doing it right?” As if she didn’t regularly bring home supper, whether it be fish or fowl or even a deer.
She was a very good hunter and fisherwoman, but she once again copied what she saw the other young ladies do, which was act like they couldn’t do anything, all to make their chosen target feel important.
Edwin smiled kindly and adjusted her stance for her, helping her recast her line.
She tried to shake away her bitter anger.
Edwin was no worse than anyone she’d met, and he seemed sincerely nice in most things.
She didn’t respect him, having sussed out that he was in debt due to his own shortcomings, but she couldn’t blame him for trying to salvage his estates and family’s name, even if it meant marrying her without loving her.
It made her unaccountably sad to be an heiress, because once she figured out what to do about Lachlan, she truly wanted to fall in love and get married.
But due to her fortune, she’d never be sure if a man really loved her or only wanted to pay off his debts.
She thought of Oliver, who wasn’t at the Hollingsborn estate that day, and smiled her first genuine smile in more than a week.
Edwin smiled back and nodded encouragingly, pointing to some fish he saw swimming under the water.
Well, she supposed it wouldn’t hurt to let him think Oliver’s smile belonged to him.
If anyone seemed interested in her for herself, it was Oliver.
It was probably because he counted himself too young to marry just yet, so only viewed her as a friend.
The strolls they took under the hateful eyes of Miss Burnet and Quinn were full of lively conversations about everything from animals to world travel.
He surprisingly thought it was quite fascinating that she came from so far away, and earnestly assured her he wanted to visit the Highlands someday.
He’d also gone so far as to hint he was interested in seeing her farm, and her aunt’s land that was closer to the coast.
Even with Oliver, who was the easiest person to be around, she had a hard time concentrating on anything other than what happened to Lachlan.
She desperately wanted to talk about it with someone, try to get another point of view, but knew she’d be seen as mad.
She longed to ask Quinn straight out what really happened, see if he flinched at all.
He was such a seasoned liar, she knew she wouldn’t bother trying.
Edwin cleared his throat uncomfortably and she noticed that the object of her scorn was striding towards them, Miss Burnet on his arm, as usual.
In any other circumstances, Catie would have been sure they were just having a flirtation, but since she’d seen the letters, she’d done the simple addition necessary to figuring out that her brother hadn’t hired her chaperone by chance.
Using all her dwindling energy to make her face pass for pleased, she greeted Quinn and Miss Burnet.
“Have ye not caught anything yet, lass?” Her wicked brother asked, outing her usefulness.
He then further mortified her by towering over Edwin, causing his face to go purple, and probably gripping his hand too tight.
Did he want her to get married or not? It would serve him right if she married someone he hated.
To be contrary, she moved closer to Edwin.
When she caught Miss Burnet’s eye and saw her knowing smile, she had to tamp down her anger.
She’d been fooled by Miss Burnet’s so-called kindness for exactly the amount of time it took her to figure out she was probably involved in Lachlan’s disappearance and definitely involved in time traveling, then she hadn’t trusted her one bit.
“Edwin is teaching me,” she said, her voice laced with syrupy sweetness. Quinn raised a brow, and she couldn’t be sure if it was due to her tone or the fact that she’d boldly used Edwin’s first name. “I’m sure I’ll catch something eventually.”
“Even if she doesn’t, we’ll still have a fine dinner,” Edwin said, trying to be funny.
Catie did her new tinkling laugh, which turned into a real, hearty one at Quinn’s look of horror.
She could tell he wanted to shake her and ask her where the Catie he knew went, and part of her wanted him to.
The part of her that wished she was still just a Scottish farm girl, that wished she could still trust her brother.
She had to look out at the lake to keep anyone from seeing her eyes well up.
Thankfully another harsh gust of wind blew past so she could blame her watering eyes on that if she had to.
Miss Burnet grabbed Quinn’s arm to keep from being swept into the lake. The wind had really picked up and Catie could see some black clouds rolling in from the north. Perhaps they were from Scotland.
“My goodness,” Miss Burnet said. She was really quite good at being a damsel in distress, clutching at Quinn’s arm and leaning into him. “Perhaps we should go indoors.”
Catie couldn’t help but take notes, and when the next gale blew past, she tottered and grabbed Edwin’s sleeve, half hating herself and half having fun.
Edwin was handsome in his blond, green-eyed way, with nice broad shoulders.
The arm she now held onto as if for dear life was firm under her hand.
And it didn’t hurt that Quinn looked like he wanted to pry her fingers off and toss Edwin into the now churning waves of the lake.
“Aye, it’s going to let loose any second now,” he said, glaring at Edwin.
Edwin waved around at the others who were fishing, pointing up at the house. The rowers were being tossed around as they furiously made their way back to the dock. If Catie’s dark mood hadn’t surpassed the storm, she might have been a bit alarmed at the sudden squall.
They were soaked nearly to the bone by the time they were across the huge lawn, and Edwin kept a tight hold on her hand so she wouldn’t slip. By the time they made it to the covered terrace, they were drenched, and turned to watch the stragglers trying to fight their way through the torrent.
Catie and the other ladies of the party huddled, shivering and wringing out their skirts, until a few maids came to show them upstairs, herding them into different bedrooms and promising towels and hot water.
Miss Burnet helped her out of her dress and wrapped her in a dressing gown before wrestling herself out of her own sodden clothes.
Catie took pity on her and helped with the laces.
“I’ve lived in England my entire life, and I’ll never cease to be amazed at how horrid the weather can turn,” Miss Burnet said, peeling off her shift and putting on another dressing gown. They spread their clothes in front of a newly stoked fire.
“Aye, Scotland’s quite the same,” Catie said miserably. “Are we trapped here for the night, do ye think?”
Miss Burnet swiveled around and looked at her, confused. “Aren’t you having a good time?”
She sounded so concerned, it almost hurt Catie’s heart, so wanting things to be the way they seemed. She would have given anything for Miss Burnet to truly like her and want the best for her, and not be involved in some strange plot to keep Lachlan away.
A sudden idea wrenched its way into her jumble of theories. What if Miss Burnet were trying to help get her brother back? Those instructions were to get her to the future, which was presumably where Lachlan was. Perhaps Miss Burnet was trying to rescue him.
Catie’s moods had been swinging so violently the past week, she barely knew up from down, and this new thought that struck her hit hard, knocking her for a loop.
Every thought she’d had lately bordered on the kind of madness that got one locked away.
Deep down she had the niggling fear she had created a fantasy because, as horrible as it was, it was better than Lachlan being dead.
“Catie, sweetheart, are you all right? You’re quite pale.” Miss Burnet reached out and felt her brow, the last straw.
Catie dissolved into pathetic tears. “I miss my brother, Lachlan,” she admitted, too tired to make anything up. Because she was so tired, she let Miss Burnet hug her. “He was a bit stony-hearted, but I did love him.”
“Oh, poor dear,” Miss Burnet said, patting her hair as she sobbed. “I’m so sorry.”
“I’d like to take a wee nap, if ye think I may?” Catie never knew what would be frowned upon.
Miss Burnet hustled around her, turning down the blankets on the bed and fluffing the pillows.
“Certainly. They can’t expect us back downstairs any time soon,” she said, pointing to their damp clothes.
She patted the mattress. “Come along and lie down. I shall make myself very small in the corner and not make a peep.”
“Thank ye, Miss Burnet,” Catie said, letting herself be tucked in like a wee child.
Her eyes burned from her many recent sleepless nights and the tears that hadn’t quite stopped yet.
As she rested her head against the cool, smooth pillow, she thought Miss Burnet might take pity on her and tell her something comforting, perhaps something truthful that would give Catie a bit of much needed hope.
But she merely stroked her hair for a moment before settling quietly in the corner armchair like she’d promised.