Page 33 of Unchaining the Heart of the Marquess
“It is the least I can do.”
Both men walked together back up to the castle. When they entered the dining room, they found a haunch of venison, a steaming bowl of boiled potatoes, roasted root vegetables, kale greens, and peaches with clotted cream. “You have outdone yourself, Mrs. MacDonald,” Frederick praised, his mouth watering at the sight.
“I have missed cookin’ for Yer Lairdship.” Mrs. MacDonald smiled while patting him on the shoulder. She used his title as was required of her, but she still showed him the same affection she had when he was but a boy.
Frederick reached up and squeezed her hand. “I have missed you as well.”
The MacDonalds had never been blessed with children. Frederick had been the closest they had had to a son in spite of the long distance between them for a majority of his life. He had never been allowed to bring Josephine with him when he came as a child, but he knew they would have loved her, too, had they met her. Thoughts of Josephine caused him to frown in concern. When he had left Chescrown, she had been quite ill. He prayed that she would recover quickly and that no harm would befall her.
He could just picture Josephine walking through the castle halls or sitting in her bare feet at the water’s edge. If they all managed to make it through their current ordeals, he would bring her to Scotland when he returned. He would even invite her footman if that was what she wished, but he genuinely hoped that it was not. He looked over at Lt. Buckworth and thought of Josephine’s reaction to his suggestion that the soldier was right for her. He chuckled causing the soldier to look up from his plate.
“Happy thought?”
Frederick shook his head. “I had the audacity to suggest that you and Miss Merton would make a fine match. Needless to say, she put me in my place.”
Buckworth chuckled. “So that is why she looked at me the way she did when we met. She is a lovely girl, and I thank you for thinking me worthy of your dear friend, but I could never wed her.”
“Why not?” Frederick frowned confused why he would refuse her. He knew the soldier was not married or spoken for.
“I would never take another man’s lady from him, My Lord.”
“Are you referring to the footman, Greeves? They do not have an understanding.”
“No, My Lord. I am referring to you.”
“Josephine is not mine to have. Our differences in station prohibit such a match.”
“I am aware of societies strictures, My Lord.”
Frederick could tell that Buckworth wished to say more, but feared he would overstep by doing so. “Speak freely, Lieutenant.”
“It is clear to all with eyes that you love her and that she loves you.”
Frederick sat back in his chair and studied his companion’s face thinking about what he had said. “I thought I was hiding it.”
“I am afraid not, My Lord.”
“It cannot be. The repercussions of such a scandal would be unfair to us both.”
“I understand your concerns, and they are founded, My Lord, but if war has taught me anything, it is that life is fleeting and full of a myriad of miseries. True joy is a rarity and should be embraced, for we know not the time in which we will be robbed of its beauty or see its like again.”
The pain in Buckworth’s eyes was clear. He had lost so much in his life. Frederick felt a sudden urge to somehow make everything in the lieutenant’s life that had ever hurt him disappear. As he sat there, he realized that in Lt. Buckworth he had found a true friend. “I will take your words under advisement.” Lt. Buckworth smiled and nodded his head in acknowledgement.
When they were done eating, they thanked Mrs. MacDonald and invited her to join them on their walk to the kirkyard. When she accepted, Frederick offered her his arm, and they began their stroll. Along the way, Frederick asked her questions about the time his mother spent at Dun Dubh. She told him everything that her husband had already shared with him, along with a few more observations from a female viewpoint on the joys and sorrows of birthing children.
Reaching the kirkyard, Mrs. MacDonald showed them Sarah Evans’ grave. “The bairn is buried here with her, poor wee lamb. I dinnae wish tae overstep, My Laird…” she left the question hanging.
“I am acquainted with her brothers and wished to be able to attest to the care and keeping of her final resting place. As the kirk is on the family estate, it falls to us to see to its care.”
“Ye are a wise and noble benefactor, My Laird. Her family could nae ask for a better guardian.” Mrs. MacDonald’s eyes glowed with pride as she looked up at him.
“Thank you, Mrs. MacDonald. You are most kind.” Frederick wished his own mother had felt the same way instead of sending him away. His mother screaming for him to leave Chescrown rang through his mind, causing a fresh wave of pain. It was a miserable thing to be rejected by someone you loved.
As I rejected Josephine.
Frederick’s shoulders sagged in shame at the thought.
“Are you well, My Lord?” Lt. Buckworth inquired noting Frederick’s expression and posture.
