Sleepless In Scotland Part 18

That's what you get for wanting more, she warned herself. Learn to be thankful for what you have. That's the secret to happiness. You have this lovely house, and kind servants. The girls have been polite, while Hugh has been- She shivered, rubbing her arms as she turned back toward the foyer. I have no complaints at all. In fact- Triona came to a halt. There, standing across the top of the staircase, were the girls.

Devon, her dark hair falling about her face, frowned. "Where's Papa?"

"He just left for the stables to-"

"Before saying good-bye to us?" Christina asked in a breathless tone, her pale face tight.

"Perhaps he thought he'd see you after lunch, for your ride."

"He never leaves without telling us good-bye," Devon said, accusation clear in her tone.

"Maybe he was in a hurry because of the new foals," Triona offered.

Devon glared a moment, then gave a brittle laugh. "I'm sorry. It-it doesn't really matter."

"New foals?" Aggie asked eagerly, coming down the stairs at once. "How many are there?"

Caitriona had to smile at her eagerness. "Two."

Aggie clapped her hands. "Did he say if Satin had hers yet?"

"He didn't mention any of the horses by name." She chuckled. "Do they all have names?"

"Of course." Christina had also come down the stairs and eyed Caitriona cautiously. "How would he know which horses were which, if they didn't have names?"

"That's a good point. I'd just supposed he had too many to bother."

Aggie giggled. "He was running out of names before we came. He called one Old Spoonhead."

"Then he began naming them after items from his closet," Christina confided. "He called one Shoe and another Boot."

It was the first time Caitriona had seen the thin, serious girl smile, and the transformation was breathtaking. In the s.p.a.ce of a second, she went from plain to an ethereal beauty that put Devon's more earthy looks to shame. Having had a sister who'd outshone her most of her life, Caitriona warmed to Christina. "I suppose Horse 1 and Horse 2 were already taken, or he wouldn't have resorted to footwear for names."

Devon reached the bottom step. "Papa is like that. Sometimes he seems very pragmatic, and then others-" She shrugged. "For example, he loves marmalade."

"Does he?" That was interesting. Perhaps she could find some on her next trip to town.

"Oh, yes," Aggie said. "He makes quite a mess when he uses it, too."

Christina wrinkled her nose. "He'll even stick his finger in the jar and get the bits the knife can't."

Triona smiled at the girls, glad they'd thawed a bit.

She knew she wasn't supposed to engage them much, but a few conversations here and there couldn't hurt. Besides, she was feeling lonely. Hugh spent so many hours overseeing the horses that he was rarely inside. Meanwhile, she'd promised not to approach the girls, so she rarely saw them. At times the huge house seemed achingly empty. "Where do you ride when you go with your father in the afternoons?"

Christina shrugged. "Wherever he wishes. Sometimes he has to check on a certain herd, or we help him move them from pasture to pasture."

"You help him?"

"Yes," Devon said, sounding defensive. "We ride behind the horses and he rides in the front. I daresay we've ridden over every inch of this place."

"That's impressive."

Aggie hopped. "Yesterday we saw a fox!"

"No!"

"Oh, yes! And it was very red. Papa says that means it'll be a hard winter."

"Considering how frigid it is outside already, that's not surprising."

Christina added, "The millpond is frozen solid, too."

"Goodness, it is going to be a cold winter. I'll check the coal bins and see how we're faring, and order more firewood. I don't want us to run out." Triona glanced around the group. "I don't mean to intrude, but...aren't you supposed to be with your governess?"

Devon's expression couldn't have been more bland. "She has a headache and told us to conjugate our Greek verbs for the week."

"Which we did already," Aggie offered.

"As long as your father is happy."

Standing here now, noticing the air of desperation that hung about Christina, and how Aggie leaned toward one while talking as if wanting a hug, while Devon eyed all adults with distrust, made Triona regret her promise to Hugh. Surely there was something she could do to help these poor girls while she was here.

Devon crossed her arms, her accusing gaze pinned on Triona. "What have you been doing this morning?"

"Setting the menus for the week and organizing the cleaning duties."

"Christina and Devon used to do that," Aggie piped up.

"Really?" MacLean had never mentioned that! Good G.o.d, no wonder the children were cool toward her! She'd appeared out of nowhere and had taken over their position in the house. "I never knew anyone was in charge of those duties."

"Papa did," Devon said succinctly.

"Well, he forgot to tell me! Or more likely, he didn't think about it. He's a wonderful man, but he doesn't dwell on the niceties. When we married, I thought-well, never mind. I shall have a word with your father about this."

"Wait," Christina said. "What did you think when you were married?"

"Oh, suffice it to say that Hugh organized our wedding in a very precise, no-frills manner."

"That describes most everything he does," Christina said. "Papa's very-" She suddenly pressed her lips together. "I won't criticize Papa."

Triona chuckled. "It's not a criticism, dear. Just a comment on his style."

"Oh." Christina unbent a little, regarding Triona gravely. "In that case, he does tend toward the severe. It drives Uncle Dougal mad."

"Uncle Dougal is a fop." Devon sniffed. "Even Aunt Sophia says so."

Aggie giggled. "Aunt Sophia says it a lot."

Triona grinned, and realized again how much she missed her own brothers and sisters. Though she'd written a letter to each, it didn't replace being able to sit around the fire and talk. Her heart ached at the thought.

"Are...are you well?"

Finding Christina's gaze on her, Triona pulled her handkerchief from her pocket and dried her eyes. "Fine, thank you. I'm just thinking of my brothers and sisters-I miss them."

"How many do you have?" Aggie asked.

"Three brothers and two sisters."

Christina gaped. "There's a lot of you!"

"Oh, yes. We did all sorts of things together-we cooked and cleaned and-"

"Didn't you have any servants?"

"Very few. We didn't need many, for there were so many of us and we could do what needed doing. I make an excellent cottage pie."

Aggie gave a little hop. "Yum!"

"Oh, yes! And our house was always very noisy. It's very quiet here, and I'm not used to it."

Christina and Aggie exchanged glances.

Devon said, "I'd think you'd welcome a little peace and quiet. There are times I wish Aggie and Christina would stop talking."

Christina's cheeks bloomed red. "Devon!"

"Don't pretend you haven't felt the same; it's a perfectly natural reaction." Devon bent and retrieved a piece of paper from the floor. She glanced at it, then handed it to Triona. "I believe this is yours. It's the menu for the week."

"What are we having tonight?" Aggie asked eagerly.

"Roast lamb."

"Good!" Aggie patted her stomach in antic.i.p.ation. "I hope there's no mint sauce. Papa hates that."

Triona took silent note of this tidbit of information. Never was it more apparent that she was married to a stranger than when she'd first attempted to set the menu. Based on the standard dishes served at Gilmerton, Mrs. Wallis knew some of Hugh's likes and dislikes, but she'd been unable to vouch for his opinions regarding some of the new dishes Triona had wished to add.

It was but one example of the many things she didn't know about her husband. It was rather nice that the children knew his tastes so well for it saved Triona from having to question him when he came home.

"Yes," Devon said. "He hates mint sauce as much as he loves carrots. Especially carrots baked into his cottage pie."

Christina blinked. "But-"

Devon pulled her sister back up the stairs. "We'd better review our Greek before Mrs. Appleton wakes up from her nap."

Aggie trailed behind her older sisters. "I don't want to do my Greek!"

"If you want to ride with Papa this afternoon, you have to finish. You know how he is," Devon said.

Shoulders slumped, Aggie walked slowly up the stairs after her sisters.

So MacLean loved carrots in his cottage pie, did he? Perhaps they'd have that instead of the roast lamb. If there was one dish Triona could make, it was cottage pie. She wondered if they had the ingredients already, or if- A carriage rattled up to the portico, and Liam went to answer the door.

As Triona smoothed her gown, she heard a voice say, "Let go o' me arm, ye idiot! Do I look as if I canna walk on me own?"

Chapter 13.

"'Tis a woman's right to change her mind, and a man's right to keep his."

OLD WOMAN NORA TO HER THREE WEE GRANDDAUGHTERS ON A COLD WINTER'S NIGHT Mam!" Triona hurried across the foyer to envelop her grandmother in a hug.

Nora blinked back tears. "Och, how are ye, me dear bairn!"

"Oh, Mam, I'm so glad to see you! Will you come into the sitting room? There's a nice fire there and I can have some scones sent up."

"Aye, I could use somethin' to warm me bones."

Triona sent word that refreshments were needed; then she a.s.sisted Mam into a nice, comfy chair in the sitting room. With a smile, she sank down in the one opposite. "You should have waited for me to visit you."

"How could I do tha' what wit' yer sister sendin' me a fat letter tha' dinna say a d.a.m.n thing, and then ye sending me tha' sliver o' paper ye call a note? I'll know wha' is happenin' or I'll die tryin'!"

Triona had to laugh. "Caitlyn can write more and say less than anyone I know."

Mam turned a shrewd eye on Triona. "So, out with it. Wha' has ye in a dither?"

"Oh, Mam! There is so much-this all...it all happened so fast."

"I daresay ye're a bit confused, gettin' wed out o' pocket in such a way. Wha' was yer da thinkin'?"

"He wasn't in town. Uncle Bedford and Aunt Lavinia-"

Nora snorted. "Say no more! Those pompous fools couldna find their way out o' a sack o' potatoes, much less finagle a mess like yer sister set ye into."

"Caitlyn didn't mean to cause harm. The laird mocked her, and you know how she is."

"She's a sight too much like her mam, if ye ask me. I canna believe ye dinna write me. I'd have come and straightened out this mess."

"We didn't have time. People were saying horrible things, and not just about me. The entire family's name was being torn to bits, and with Papa being a vicar..."

"I see." Mam's shrewd blue gaze met Triona's. "So...how are ye?"