Marguerite Kaye – A Winter Wedding: Strangers at the Altar / The Warrior's Winter Bride (страница 21)
‘Then I hope you will make sure not to let the water of life run dry. I must go, but we’ll talk again.’
Innes watched his friend walk away. He felt as if his mind had been put through a washtub and then a mangle. Striding along the path that led round the front of the castle, he spotted the ramshackle pier and came to a sudden halt. Here was something he could do, and it was something, moreover, that Strone Bridge urgently needed, for it would allow paddle steamers to dock. He couldn’t understand why he hadn’t thought of it before. Vastly relieved to be able to focus on a project that was entirely within his control, Innes made his way down to the bay and began a survey of the jetty with the critical eye of the engineer it had cost him and, it seemed, the people of Strone Bridge, so much to become.
* * *
Dear Madame Hera,
I am a twenty-eight-year-old woman, married with two small children and absolutely bored stiff. My husband is a wealthy man and insists that our house is taken care of by servants and our children by a nanny, but this leaves me with nothing to do. I try to count my blessings, but even that occupation has become tedious. One of my friends suggested taking a lover would amply occupy my free afternoons, but lying convincingly is not one of my accomplishments. What shall I do?
Yours sincerely, Mrs A
Ainsley smiled to herself as she read this missive. Many of Madame Hera’s correspondents complained of boredom, though none had suggested this novel answer. ‘Take charge,’ Ainsley wrote, ‘of your children, of your housework, of your life!’ She put the pen down, frowning. Mrs A’s husband was doing exactly what was expected of him. More, in fact, than many could or would. Mrs A’s friends might well even envy her. If Mrs A were to dismiss the nanny, or take over the housework, her husband would most likely be insulted. Or offended.
Ainsley looked at the clock. It was gone two. Innes had left before breakfast this morning, and she had not seen him since. Was he avoiding her? In the days since he had agreed to hold the Rescinding ceremony, he had continued with his visits to various farms and tenants, his poring over documents late into the night. True, she too had been very busy—too busy, in fact, to have any time to devote to anything else, but still, the niggling feeling that she was being pushed to one side would not go away.
With a sigh of frustration, Ainsley pushed Madame Hera’s half-finished letter to one side and picked up the heavy bunch of castle keys from the desk, intending to consult the tome she had now christened the
* * *
The tide was far enough out for Innes to have clambered down underneath the pier when she arrived. ‘What on earth are you doing?’ she asked, peering through one of the planks down at him.
‘I was inspecting the struts,’ he said, looking up at her, ‘but now that you’re here, there’s a much nicer view.’
‘Innes!’ Scandalised, laughing, she clutched her skirts tightly around her.
Laughing, he appeared a few moments later on the beach, climbing up the ancient wooden supports of the pier fluidly. ‘Do you always match your garters to your gown?’
‘What kind of question is that?’
‘One you needn’t answer if you don’t want to, I’m happy to imagine.’ Innes picked a long strand of seaweed from the skirts of his coat and threw it on to the beach. ‘I’m going to have this thing rebuilt.’
‘Of course you are! I wonder you didn’t think of it before.’
‘Couldn’t see the wood for the trees,’ Innes said wryly. ‘I don’t suppose you’ve got a pencil and a bit of paper with you?’
Ainsley delved into her pocket and pulled out the notebook and pencil. ‘Here, I was on my way to the castle when I saw you.’
‘How are the arrangements progressing?’
She was about to launch into a stream of detail, but stopped herself, giving Innes a dismissive shrug instead. ‘Nothing for you to worry about,’ she said.
He had been scribbling something in her notebook, but he looked up at the change in her tone. ‘I thought you wanted to take this on—have you changed your mind?’
‘No.’
‘Is it too much? Do you need help?’
‘No, I told you, there’s nothing for you to worry about. It’s not your problem.’
Frowning, Innes stuck her pencil behind his ear. ‘Aye, that was it.
‘I don’t know what you’re implying, but...’
‘Actually, it’s what you’re implying, Ainsley,’ he exclaimed. ‘I’m not shutting you out deliberately. I thought we were dividing and conquering, not just dividing, for heaven’s sake. Once and for all, I’m not the man you married, so stop judging me as if I am.’
She wrapped her arms tightly around herself. ‘I know you’re not.’
‘Then what are you accusing me of?’
‘Nothing.’ She bit her lip. ‘You don’t talk to me. You don’t value my opinion.’
‘Well, that’s where you’re wrong. Do you know what I was doing this morning? No, of course you don’t, for I didn’t tell you—and before you berate me for that, I didn’t tell you because I wasn’t sure he’d come.’
‘Who?’
‘Eoin.’
Her latent anger left her. Ainsley smiled. ‘You’ve spoken to Eoin?’
‘I have. I met him at the chapel.’
‘And?’
Innes laughed nervously. ‘And it was difficult.’
He was clearly uncomfortable. If she did not press him, he would leave it at that. She was pleased, no, more than pleased, that he had taken her advice, though it would most likely result in her further exclusion from matters of the lands. ‘Has Eoin agreed to help you?’ Ainsley asked carefully.
‘He has.’
Innes was staring down at his notes, but she was not fooled. ‘And you’ve made your peace?’ Ainsley persisted.
‘We’ve agreed to disagree.’ Finally, Innes met her gaze. ‘He thinks I should have come back sooner. Though he understands why I left, he doesn’t understand why I stayed away. Though he knows fine that if I’d come back, my father and I would have done nothing but argue, and my father would have carried on down whatever path he’d chosen regardless, still Eoin thinks I should have tried.’
‘That’s ridiculous. Then you would have both been miserable. Besides, you had no cause to think that your father would choose this path of destruction,’ Ainsley said fiercely. ‘You told me yourself, he was a good laird.’
‘Aye, well, it seems you’re the only person to see it my way,’ Innes said despondently.
She put her hand on his arm. ‘You brought me here so you’d have someone on your side.’
‘And I’ve done my damnedest to push you away since we arrived.’ He smiled ruefully down at her. ‘I’m sorry. I did warn you. You need to speak up more.’
She flinched. ‘I know.’
Innes cursed under his breath. ‘That was unfair of me.’ He kissed her fingertips. ‘This marriage business, I’m not very good at it, I’m afraid. I’m too used to being on my own.’
‘That’s one thing you need to remember. You’re not alone. May I see?’ she asked, pointing at the notebook.
Innes had made several small sketches. He began to talk as he showed them to her, of tides, about the advantages of wood over stone, of angles and reinforcing. She nodded and listened, though she understood about a quarter of what he said, content to hear his voice full of enthusiasm, to watch the way he ran the pencil through his hair, reminded of the way Felicity did something very similar.
‘That’s quite enough,’ he said eventually, closing the notebook. ‘You’re probably bored to death.’
‘No. I didn’t follow much of it, but it wasn’t boring.’
Innes laughed, putting his arm around her.
‘Do you think you’ll be ready to announce the new pier after the Rescinding?’ she asked. ‘Perhaps you could show them a drawing. There’s three weeks, would there be time?’
‘I don’t see why not. I could do the preliminary survey myself. It’s what my trade is after all.’
Ainsley beamed up at him. ‘If all the villagers and tenants see what a clever man you are, then perhaps they’ll understand why you had to leave.’
‘Atonement?’
‘No, you’ve nothing to atone for. It is a gift. A symbol of the modern world brought to Strone Bridge by their modern laird.’
Innes laughed. ‘I can just about hear my father turning in his grave from here.’
‘Good.’
He pulled her closer. ‘I saw it this morning at the chapel. The grave I mean, and yes, it was for the first time. I could see you just about chewing your tongue off trying not to ask. Eoin told me about the funeral. It seems I have Mhairi to thank for doing things properly.’
‘We have a lot to thank Mhairi for,’ Ainsley agreed, enjoying the warmth of his body, the view, the salty tang of the air. ‘She’s at one with Eoin and everyone else in thinking that you should have come back here earlier, but now you’re here, she’s of the opinion that you should be given a chance.’