Page 35 of Heather and the Highlander
Heather put down the tea. “My parents are dead. Their ship was lost at sea years ago, and that’s when my Uncle Cyril took me on as his ward. He probably knows about the marriage by now, andhe’llbe furious.”
Heather took her time sipping a dark, robust brew that required milk to take the edge off. She liked it. A bowl of oat porridge followed, and eventually Heather felt well enough to get out of bed and dress for the day.
Maeve had provided yet another dress, explaining that she’d found one of her sister’s last night. This one was a yellowy-gold wool. It was plain in the best way, and the shawl in the MacNair colors went well over it.
“Perhaps I should call on the seamstress to come soon,” Maeve offered. “The wife of the heir does need to look the part. Or will you send for your own things from home?”
Heather shook her head. “There’s not much that would suit. Uncle Cyril didn’t like to waste money on outfitting a girl who wasn’t allowed out.”
“Not allowed?” Maeve echoed.
“Oh! I just meant…I was rather isolated. Didn’t have much opportunity for social calls.” Heather didn’t want to explain that she’d been stupid and short-sighted enough to get locked in, in her very own home.
“I take it you didn’t get on with your uncle,” Maeve ventured, not realizing how much of an understatement that was.
“It was well enough at first, but the last year or so…let’s just say we disagreed on the direction my life should take.”
“How so?”
“He wants me to obey him. I want to obey myself.”
Maeve sipped her tea slowly, and then smiled. “Carregness has been waiting for a woman like you.”
Heather didn’t know what to say, especially because she wouldn’t be at Carregness for long.
Then the maid Susan opened the door, and looked to Heather. “Excuse me, ma’am, but the MacNair wishes to see you.”
“I suppose that means I have to go? What if I refuse?”
Maeve coughed in surprise, and the maid’s eyes went wide.
“I won’t refuse,” Heather said, putting a hand on Susan’s arm. “I’m not as cruel as all that.”
Maeve stood up. “Shall I accompany you?”
“No need,” Heather said. “I will have to endure his comments, but why should you sour your own morning? In any case, I don’t expect the interview will last very long. My English accent probably turns his stomach.”
Heather followed the maid to a room at the opposite side of the keep. It was the largest space besides the great hall and served as MacNair’s bedchamber, but also as his de facto throne room. Heather sensed that he liked to make people come to him, to be overawed by the heavy tapestries, and the iron candelabra lit even during the day, and the huge carved chair he sat upon.
But in fact, MacNair didn’t cut an impressive figure. He was old and thin, and coughed into a handkerchief every time he finished speaking. His clothing was well-made, but cut for a larger man, indicating just how much MacNair must have wasted away since the outfit was made for him.
The MacNair gestured to her. “Come closer, girl. I won’t bite.”
Heather had her doubts about that, but she straightened her spine and walked toward the old man. “You wanted to see me, my lord.”
“Of course I want to see the English girl who seduced my son into marriage in a matter of hours. What’s your name? Where are you from?”
“I was born Heather Hayes, and I’m from Lancashire. My father owned land there, before he passed. My mother was from Bermuda. That’s where they were sailing to when their ship went down in a storm.”
“Orphan, are you? Thus no parents to keep you in line, I see. Just a wild thing running about the countryside, laying in wait for fool Scotsmen.” He coughed loudly.
“I wasn’t layingorin wait when I encountered your son, sir.”
“Well, you must have been doing something you oughtn’t,” he said with a leer. “I see he put the family sapphire upon your scrawny sassenach finger. Funny, you don’t look like a temptress.”
“Because I’m not,” Heather replied, keeping her voice even. “I did not tempt or seduce Niall. In fact, he intervened when he saw me in danger on a village street, and then he took pity on me and helped keep me safe later. I did not plan any of this, I assure you.”
“Ach, so you just happened to cross paths with the heir to an earldom! Don’t know what your game is, lass, but I know you’ll lose. Think you could marry him for money and title? Ha! He’s not got much money, and as for title, I’ll disown him. Then you can both scrape for your living. See how you like your fine lord then.”
