Page 40 of Hard-Hearted Highlander
“Oh, yes, of course, that’s all so very sad, isn’t it?” she asked, and idly toyed with her toast. “But surely he doesn’t holdallthe English people responsible.” She suddenly looked up. “How do you know his feelings? Did he tell you?”
Bernadette felt a slight burn in her chest. “Well, I—”
Avaline gasped. “Of course! Catriona told you, too, didn’t she?”
“Told me what?”
“About his first fiancée,” Avaline said, and pulled a very sad face.
What in blazes was she nattering about? “What do you mean his firstfiancée?”
“I can’t recall her name, precisely. Something like Showna, I think.”
Bernadette shook her head. “I haven’t the slightest idea what you are talking about.”
“No?”Avaline said, seeming surprised again. “Oh dear, it is the most tragic story of all, Bernadette!” she said eagerly. “He was very much in love with her, and they planned to be married, just as soon as her brothers returned from the rebellion. But her brothers didn’t return, for they were killed in aterriblebattle. And then, of course, it wouldn’t do to marry, not with her family in mourning. But in the meantime, someone whispered that Mr. Mackenzie had sympathized with the rebels, and his father put him on a ship straightaway to Norway, or else they might have put him on trial.”
“Who?” Bernadette asked, still not following.
“The English soldiers!” Avaline exclaimed, as if Bernadette should have known that. “They would have tried him fortreason.” She leaned across the table and whispered, “Butthat’snot even the worst of it. When he came back from exile—I say exile, for it can scarcely be named anything less than that, can it? When he came back, there was no sign of herorher family. They were all gone. Can you believe it?”
No, Bernadette couldn’t believe it—she was certain that Avaline had misheard or misinterpreted something. “Gone,” Bernadette repeated. “Gone where?”
“That’s just it—no oneknows.” She settled back in her chair and picked up a toast point. “Oh!” she said, remembering something. “And they hanged her father.”
Bernadette recoiled. “Hangedhim?”
“Very near Arrandale. Catriona says he rows past it when he comes by loch to Balhaire.”
Bernadette stared at Avaline as she took a bite of her toast. Could this tale possibly be true? It would certainly explain his utter disdain of all things English. Good God, she’d accused him of wearing the mantle of pity! Bernadette closed her eyes and pressed her fingertips to them a moment. She slowly opened them and asked, “Are you certain, Avaline?”
“Well, I’m entirely sure this is what Catriona told me.” She spread jam over her toast. “Now that I know what a cruel hand life has dealt him, I couldn’tpossiblycry off.”
Bernadette was so confused! Such a tragic story should have strengthened Avaline’s resolve to end the engagement. Surely she didn’t want to begin a marriage with a man who still mourned his first love? She studied Avaline. “Have you changed your mind about him?” she asked, sounding as incredulous as she felt.
“No!” Avaline said adamantly. “I should not like to be his wife.” She suddenly put down her toast and her knife. “But there is nothing to be done for it now, and it occurs to me that perhaps I might help him. Perhaps I might find a way to bring a smile to his face once more, do you suppose?”
No, Bernadette didn’t suppose. “I don’t...” She shifted anxiously. “I’m not entirely certain what could put a smile on the man’s face who has suffered such a tragedy.”
“Mmm,” Avaline said, nodding. “But I must try, mustn’t I? His family would be ever so grateful if I was able to help, I should think.”
“No, you mustn’t try,” Bernadette said, and the feeling of panic began to creep up on her. “He mightneverrecover—”
“Oh, Bernadette, I know you mean well,” Avaline said. “But how could I desert him? How could I be thesecondfiancée he would lose?”
“But on the other hand, you are tethering yourself to a man who despises the English and loved another woman. It’s hardly fair foryou,dearest.”
“Oh, I know, Iknow,” she said, nodding in agreement. “How I wish that I would not be forced to wed that man, but my hands are tied, are they not? I really don’t know what else I might do.” She stood up and deposited her linen napkin on the table next to her plate. “I promised my mother I would come to her sitting room to talk about the wedding. I never knew how many details there are! The customs here are quite different. I’m to have a sixpence in my shoe, can you imagine? Will you join us?”
Bernadette forced a smile that she hoped hid the anxiety she was feeling at the moment. “Perhaps after my morning walk?” she suggested.
“Oh, dear, youdolike all that walking, don’t you? Walk all you like,” she said with an airy wave of her hand. “But you mustn’t forget your hat this time, Bernadette. You’ve too many new freckles,” she said as she went out of the room.
Bernadette touched her face when Avaline disappeared through the door. “I do?” she muttered to herself.
A half hour later, having assured herself she had not freckled inappropriately, Bernadette pulled on her heavy boots and went for her walk. She scarcely saw any of the scenery she’d come to appreciate, because her body was still recalling that kiss.It had haunted her all night and was still rumbling about in her, causing her skin to tingle when she recalled it, her heart to flutter.
And now her head was full of questions about the story Avaline had told her. Was it true? Surely Avaline had gotten parts of it wrong—or rather, Bernadette hoped that she had.
