Chapter Sixteen
Jack was signing, but Maisy couldn’t see through her tears to know what he was saying. Her brother had gone to Aberdeen to see off The Rue. When he’d returned, she’d held out some silly hope that Iain had not gone. But one look at her brother’s sad eyes and she knew the truth.
Her husband was gone. He’d left her.
She hated that this surprised her at all.
For it was what had been the plan since the very start.
Their marriage was not real. It was a transaction so he could get the castle settled, and then leave.
He’d not done anything he hadn’t said he’d do, but still she felt anger mixing in with the sadness.
That anger seemed to feel a little better than the pain, so she encouraged it until she was all but stomping around the castle cursing his name.
He’d left her.
She felt the pull to the balcony outside her room. Where she might catch a glimpse of The Rue sailing by. But she didn’t dare go out there, for fear she would never want to come back in. She couldn’t sit out there hoping to see his ship return. He’d made no promise beyond writing to her.
She could not even write back to him for he was always in a different port. Where would she even send a missive?
She needed to move on. She had a life here. She and Jack were safe, and that was all they needed.
“I’ll be going into town. Did you want to send Lady Kesson a letter. I’ll stay to write it for you,” Hodge offered. It had been the first time in the last six months they’d been back in London and the crew was eager to get off the ship. Iain however had not been eager for much in the last months.
“No,” Iain answered.
“You didn’t send a letter when we docked in Tortuga, or Aveiro.”
“I’m aware, Hodge. Please add London to your list of ports where I’ve not written to my wife,” he snapped at his friend.
The two letters they’d sent had been torture.
He’d not been able to say all he’d wanted because Hodge was the one writing it.
The excitement he’d felt while telling her of his journey quickly faded when he realized how one-sided and empty it felt afterward.
“I’ll not call you out for yelling, since I know it isn’t me you’re angry with.”
“And who am I angry with?”
“Yourself.”
Iain snorted and shook his head. Hodge didn’t know what he spoke of. Iain wasn’t angry at himself. He was angry at Maisy. For she had somehow worked her way into his soul and refused to give him the smallest bit of peace.
After all these months he was certain he would have forgotten the smell of her hair, or the way her lips tasted.
He had spent more time away from her than he had with her, so why was it so easy to recall the exact color of her eyes, and why in blazes did he think he heard her laugh on deck late at night?
She haunted him. And that thought made him think of the first night she’d come to him wearing only her shift. That first night he’d taken her as a true wife. It was the memories of them in bed that were the hardest. Or made him the hardest, rather.
“Are you going to meet with the supercargo to set up the next voyage.”
“Nay. You can see to it. I don’t rightly care where we go or what we haul.”
“Aye. I’ll see it done.”
“Leave a few bottles of rum onboard.”
“Of course.”
Iain could feel the frown and disappointment from Hodge without having to look at him.
“I’ll be in my quarters,” Iain said.
“Where else would you be?” Hodge murmured low enough it was clear he hadn’t meant for Iain to hear. Iain might have called him out for his insolence, but he didn’t care enough. He answered with a grunt and went to his bed to wallow.
“If it is all right, I will keep it in my room,” Jack signed to Maisy.
“You truly want to wake up in the morning with this horned beast staring at you?” Maisy frowned at the stag head they were removing from the study.
Jack didn’t seem sure, so she instructed him to send it out to the stable with the other animals.
She was pleased to have completed all the repairs to the castle that needed to be done. Now, with the necessary changes completed, she could turn to improvements she simply wanted. And the new paper, drapes, and lack of anything with fur in the study was definitely what she wanted.
Jack took the stag away and she instructed Mr. Murray to follow with the ratty chair in the most hideous color green.
Only a minute later, both men ran back to her. Jack’s hands were flying as Mr. Murry said. “Mr. Garrow. He’s here.”
They’d heard nothing about him for so long now, Maisy had thought he’d moved on never to return. It seemed she would need to handle him herself this time.
“Mr. Murray, hurry to get the constable. Jack, hand me the fire poker.”
He rolled his eyes and went to retrieve it, but refused to turn it over to her.
Leaning it against his leg he signed that he was a man grown and would not hide behind a woman. He would protect her.
“And if you are injured? What shall I do then?” she asked.
The boy who was not yet a man turned his head so he wouldn’t see what she’d said. The nerve. She might have grabbed him by the ear and explained that she was in charge, but there was no time. They needed to deal with the intruder bellowing from the foyer.
“Bring out the miserable wench who has destroyed my livelihood,” he said, his words slurring.
From the ten feet between them, Maisy could smell the spirits and stench.
She again reached for the fire poker in Jack’s hands, wanting to have something between him and them.
But Jack only squeezed it tighter and stepped in front of her.
She had spent her life protecting her brother. Even married to protect him, and now he thought their roles would just be reversed because he stood a foot taller than her?
“Give me that. I will take care of him,” she said tugging it and knowing with his eyes on their intruder, Jack wouldn’t have seen what she’d said. She pulled it again and he grunted and drew it back knocking over a vase on a table.
The man took a step closer. They needed to stop fighting each other so they could fight Mr. Garrow.
Maisy bent to pick up the largest shard of the broken vase and wrapped the sharp edge in her gown so she could grasp it without cutting herself.
It wasn’t much, but she was ready now. She would protect her home and everyone inside.
He only needed to stubble a bit closer and then…
Crash.
Mrs. Sutherland who was standing on the steps above Mr. Garrow dropped the matching vase on the man’s head.
He went down in a pile. Jack rushed from the hall and came back quickly with a woven cord from the drapes.
Using the cord to bind the bleeding man’s hands behind him, he smiled up at her when it was done.
They all looked at each other and then began to laugh. Well, laughter with a small bit of hysteria and actual tears mixed in on her part.
“My lady,” Abigail yelled and came downstairs. “Are you all right?”
Jack had also turned to her, his hands moving quickly asking about her and the babe.
Maisy rested her hand on her stomach. She was just showing, but everyone in the house knew she was with child. It only took a few seconds for Maisy to feel the familiar fluttering and she nodded.
“All is well.”
“You should lie down after such a fright. It’s not good for you to be…” Abigail looked about the destruction in the foyer and frowned again. “In a brawl with a large drunkard.”
Maisy could not argue. Even if she had not been with child, a brawl with a large drunkard was something she’d tried to avoid.
The constable arrived, and he and his son carried Mr. Garrow away.
Maisy didn’t ask what was to become of the man. He’d been accused of stealing from other estates in Scotland and England. He would likely hang for his crimes, but Maisy didn’t like to think of such things. She could only be glad she’d not have to worry over him coming to Kesson again.
She’d done it. Well, Mrs. Sutherland had done it. But they’d protected the castle on their own. They didn’t need Iain. They would be fine without him.
Not that they had much choice.