The MacAulay Bride Page 2

  "He lived..." She hung her head, too embarrassed to continue.

  "Go on," he prompted. Behind the spectacles, his eyes were kind.

  "Your brother kept a mistress for the past two years. He spent little time at home."

  "Ah, now why doesn't that surprise me?"

  She raised her brow. "Are you telling me he had a history of womanizing?"

  "Aye. But it is not all that uncommon in Scotland for a man to keep a mistress-- discreetly, of course. This doesn't mean he doesn't love his wife. It's just that a wife is a lady, and a lady cannot always provide her husband with what he needs."

  The man was dreadfully serious. My Lord, he hadn't lived through the pain and agony of losing a loved one as she had. Not Payton's dying, but his leaving her for another woman. "Is that a fact? May I assume a wife has the same privilege?"

  He stared at her a long moment before asking, "What privilege would that be?"

  "Why, to have affairs."

  "Hardly," he snapped.

  Tears filled her eyes and her voice quivered. "I gave your brother my unequivocal devotion. I kept his home tidy and served him fine meals--that is, when he chose to bless us with his presence. But even that wasn't enough for him."

  "How long have you been shouldering the burden for your family, Brianna?"

  "For quite some time." She swallowed the lump in her throat and swiped at a tear running down her cheek. "Your brother had grand dreams of forging a fortune, and was well on his way to fulfilling them when he purchased stock in Mayor's Lumber Company. He grew fascinated with the every-day workings of that enterprise. In fact, he spent entire winters up north in the logging camps, working as a lumberjack. He loved being outdoors. But it meant him being away from home for so long. We all missed him terribly during those months, but he was working the work he loved. How could I deny him?"

  Harrison frowned. "Payton didn't establish a solicitor's practice when he arrived in America?"

  She raised her brow. "Payton was a lawyer?"

  "Yes, a very successful one in Scotland, until he was forced to...until he decided to move to America. I had thought he'd start up his business here."

  Payton had been educated? He'd never mentioned a word to her. Just thinking about his pay as a logger compared with what an attorney earned caused her to seethe.

  "Continue, please," Harrison said.

  "He would come home in the spring, as all the lumberjacks did, and stay until October when he'd leave again."

  Harrison shoved back the edges of his jacket, jammed his hands on his hips. "Are ye telling me that my brother left ye alone for more than half a year at a time?"

  Ah, there was that burr again. She nodded.

  "However did you manage?"

  She lifted her chin and met his gaze straight on. "With difficulty."

  After Payton's death she had approached his solicitor, Reginald Nielsen. He'd told her everything had been taken care of, and that she need not worry her pretty little head about a thing. He'd also explained that until Harrison MacAulay arrived he couldn't release so much as a single cent to her.

  "We shall call upon my solicitor first thing Monday morning," she announced, thinking of the money she required to purchase bed frames and mattresses from Sears Roebuck. A monthly charge of seven dollars per month, including board, was reasonable rent for a lumberjack. And renting five bedrooms would give her all the money she required to keep her home, and to feed and clothe her children.

  "That will not be necessary since Mr. Nielsen and I have met, this very evening, in fact. We've straightened out Payton's financial affairs, and everything is in order."

  Brianna frowned. "But Mr. Nielsen never conducts business past five o'clock, and never on Saturday or Sunday."

  Harrison inclined his head. "He was willing to oblige me."

  She clapped her hands in delight. "Well, that's wonderful news! Now you may return to your home in Scotland, and I may get on with my life."

  He sat down beside her and gave her a gentle smile. "You seem to be an intelligent woman, and I believe you will understand me when I say your financial situation is far from good." He reached inside his pocket and withdrew a small packet of money. "This is all that is left of Payton's estate, once Nielson paid off his considerable debts." He pressed the bills into her hand. "I'm sorry, but it will be necessary to sell your home. I've requested Mr. Nielsen to immediately begin seeking a buyer."

  Staring in wide-eyed dismay at the paltry sum, Brianna rose from the divan. Clenching the money in her fist, she felt a fury unlike any she'd ever felt before threaten to ignite. "How could Payton do this to us?"

  She thought how she'd tolerated her husband's drinking and gambling for the sake of their children, and because she loved him. In hindsight, she realized she had known little of love when she married Payton at sixteen. Recognizing her own shortcomings, she knew she was not as easy on the eyes as many other women. She had long ago come to terms with the fact that she would never be petite and pretty. Still, Payton's taking a mistress had hurt her. But then she also knew that she had been much more in love with Payton than he'd been with her. To this day she still wondered why he'd requested her hand in marriage!

  Sadly, the next time she saw him was after he'd drowned. She'd had him laid out in his blue serge suit, in a simple pine box. With tears rolling down her cheeks and her grieving sons on either side of her, she cursed him for having caused them all so much pain while he lived.

  "I apologize for my brother's lack of responsibility for you and your sons. Payton never did possess one iota of common sense." He stared into the fire a moment before turning to her again. "A few years ago Payton sent me a letter regarding your welfare, if something were to happen to him. His desire was for you to return with me to Scotland."

  "I am capable of taking care of myself and my sons. For two years I've taken in boarders and have done just fine, thank you." She swept past him and took her seat on the divan, folding her hands in her lap.

  "You mean to tell me you open your home to strangers?"

  "I was forced to do so," she said, lifting her chin, meeting the fiery look in his eyes head-on. "This is my home and I'm not leaving it."

  "Hell and damnation!" he growled. "Do you think I want to do this to you?" He raked a hand through his hair. "I hate uprooting you and your sons, but we have no choice in the matter. You've been left penniless, left with nothing but your children, and I'm afraid even they aren't legally yours.

  "We leave for Scotland as soon as I can make arrangements."

  CHAPTER TWO

  "What are you saying?" Brianna's hand fluttered to her breast as an insidious coldness seeped into her body.

  "Your sons are under my guardianship."

  Her face paled as she rose from her seat and backed away from him.

  He stopped her backward motion, and took her hands in his. "When Payton wrote, he requested that his sons be educated in Scotland with his clan. I'm responsible for them until they reach eighteen."

  Brianna yanked her hands from his. "They're my sons, too! Doesn't that count for anything?"

  He shook his head. "I'm afraid not. Eventually, you will learn to love Scotland and accept it as your home."

  "Tell me, if I lived in Scotland--mind you, I said, if--what ever would I do there?"

  He raised his brow. "Well, I would imagine what women usually do."

  "And what might that be?"

  "Grandmother Mary hosts tea parties, pays calls and performs many charitable works. Grandmother Jean is involved in her...causes."

  "Causes?" she asked, unable to hide her curiosity.

  Harrison gave her a lop-sided grin. "Aye. Her current passion is the saving of mankind."

  She raised her brow. "Saving them from what?"

  "Primarily the overindulgence of spirits. America isn't the only country involved in Women's Temperance."

  "Your grandmothers live close by you then?"

  "They reside with me."

  "Both
of them?"

  He nodded. "Although my maternal grandmother spends many months in her own home on the Isle of Skye. When my grandfathers passed away a year apart, it was my responsibility to care for them. Now then, I know it's much too soon to contemplate marriage again, but..."

  "I'll never again enter into that esteemed state. Once was quite enough", she said with as much authority as she could muster. "Allow me to relieve your conscience. I am not your or anyone else's responsibility." It was difficult being strong with such a manly, vibrant presence as Harrison MacAulay, but she must. She couldn't give in to him now that she had control of her life.

  As much as she'd loved her parents, she had been their only child, and they'd worried about her safety and had severely hindered her from pursuing new endeavors. She recalled wanting to learn to ride a bicycle when she was young! But they'd been too fearful for her safety. They'd died shortly after her eighth birthday. Because she had no other relatives she'd been placed at St. Benedict's orphanage, where she'd led a cloistered life until her sixteenth year. She'd met Payton while performing one of her chores, the daily shopping at the market. Not only had Payton been extremely handsome, which of course made him irresistible, he had offered her an opportunity to leave behind her restricted life.

  Harrison scowled. "You must understand that I do not take my duty lightly."

  "Duty?" She frowned. "Now, see here--"

  "We will be leaving Friday morning, on the eight o'clock train."

  Brianna swallowed the lump in her throat. "I believe a meeting with my solicitor is in order then. As I said earlier, I shall call on him first thing Monday."

  "For what purpose, since I have already met with the man?" he asked, clearly exasperated.

  "I'm questioning the terms of my husband's will. This isn't the dark ages, after all. I cannot believe I'm being denied the right to raise my own children, without the bother of a man."

  Harrison had wanted Brianna from the first time he gazed upon her face ten long years ago. He'd received a letter from his brother, along with a wedding portrait of Brianna standing behind her husband, one hand on his shoulder. At the time he had been disgusted with himself for coveting his brother's wife. But with the passage of time he had thanked God there had been an ocean between them, and recognized his desire for her for what it was. Pure lust.

  After Harrison had learned of Payton's death, there was nothing he could do but be the dutiful older brother he'd always been. He'd had no choice but to travel to America and fetch his sister-in-law. Once they married, she would, God willing, give him the son he needed. The idea of her not conceiving was unimaginable.

  She turned to him. Meeting her troubled expression, he held out his hand, reasoning that if she took it she'd trust him, and accept him, and all he had to offer. He was disappointed when she shook her head and turned away. His hand ached to reach out and stroke the delicate curve of her neck above the starched collar of her dress.

  She whirled around, unaware he stood so close, and stumbled back. Swiftly, he reached out and grasped her forearms, preventing her from crashing into the windowpane. He released her and folded his arms across his chest. "Why must you see Payton's attorney when I have already done so?"

  She heard his exasperated tone and lifted her chin. "I intend to challenge Payton's will and thought you could, perhaps, champion my cause in the courts. You can't possibly agree with the conditions of your brother's will, can you?"

  He groaned. "Whether I agree or not is of little consequence. What's done is done, and I'm not a barrister, Brianna." He swept his hair back from his forehead and straightened his spectacles. "Besides, even if I did help you, you haven't a remote chance of gaining custody of your sons."

  "Can you not leave us here?" she pleaded.

  Harrison growled, "A woman alone, with no man to protect her, is prey for any scheming, unconscionable man. Do you expect me to ignore my brother's wishes? And do you believe I would dishonor myself by shirking my duty? That you would question my integrity is unthinkable."

  Her voice shook in outrage. "I've built a good life for my sons and have raised them alone since Payton proved to be so undependable. I believe your brother cared for us in his own way, but he wasn't a strong man. I couldn't trust his word or believe he would be here for us when we needed him." She sighed, raised her hands, and massaged her temples. "I'm exhausted, so if you will excuse me, I'm retiring for the night."

  "An excellent idea." He followed her out of the parlor and down the hallway. "This will all make perfect sense to you come morning. Now, would you kindly direct me to your guest room?"

  She stopped and raised her brow. "Whatever for?"

  "You offered me a room. Remember?"

  She shook her head. "It wouldn't be proper if you stayed here. No, it wouldn't do at all." Plucking up her skirts she continued down the hallway leaving Harrison standing there, dumbfounded. He swore under his breath, snatched up his satchel and chased after her.

  "But you informed me not to take accommodations elsewhere," he protested.

  "That was before you tried to take charge of my life, and before I knew my husband considered me incapable of caring for our children," she stated firmly. She reached the front door, swung it open and stepped aside.

  He stopped in front of her. "Being a woman, I realize it's difficult for you to be reasonable, but--"

  "Not reasonable, you say?" Brianna said, her voice shrill. "Since I'm an unprotected woman, I believe I'm being quite sensible in not allowing you to stay here. As for finding a place, thus far you've proven to be a resourceful man. I believe you'll have no problem whatsoever."

  "You truly are turning me out, aren't you?" he asked in astonishment.

  She nodded and looked somewhere above his head. She wouldn't allow him to intimidate her with his scowling face and booming voice. After a long moment of horrid silence she met his eyes and found him glaring at her. He probably used that expression at home and scared everyone to death with it, but he didn't frighten her. She guessed he had things his way most times. But not this time.

  She maintained her stance, door open and hand on the knob, relieved when he swore under his breath and strode outside. She watched his long-legged strides carry him away until he was at the front gate. Then she called out, "Mister MacAulay!"

  He came to an abrupt halt and glared at her over one shoulder.

  "If I choose not to leave with you on Friday next, what will you do?" she inquired, almost amazed at her own daring. Oh, she didn't want to encourage his anger further, yet much depended upon his answer. Even from a distance, she saw his chest heaving and clenched her fists at her side, waiting for the ranting to begin.

  She was surprised when he said rather mildly, "For your sake, Madam, and for the sake of your children, you will be packed and ready to leave, and you will not give me another moment's grief about it."

  Her body shook at his threatening words. She stared at the hateful man's back as he stalked away and disappeared into the night. The good Lord in His blessed wisdom had rid her of her philandering husband. Now He had sent her this headstrong male with whom to contend. She cursed her abysmal luck that she was saddled with another MacAulay, yet this one appeared to be dependable, honorable, and dreadfully dutiful.

  With a heavy heart she closed the door, trudged into the parlor and came to a decision. No man was going to get the better of her. As the good sisters at St. Benedict's Orphanage always said, crying never helped a blessed thing.

  A plan came to mind then. While her children slept she packed the bare necessities, determined to reach Clearwater, Wisconsin, by mid-morning. Her friend, Angela Miller, and her family had moved to the small town a year ago. She lived twelve miles away and across the St. Croix River. Far enough away that Harrison wouldn't know where to begin searching.

  Then he couldn't force her to leave her home, leaving behind friends and her means of livelihood. She'd return to her home after a while, knowing well he had duties to tend back home and would
eventually leave. Move to Scotland? What a ridiculous idea! However would she support herself? She'd never been east of the St. Croix, for heaven's sake!

  An hour later she stood beside her wagon and adjusted a trunk of clothing, a barrel of food and water, and other necessities for her journey. She returned to the kitchen where she snatched Payton's Winchester rifle from its usual place against the wall. Cradling the weapon against her chest, she made her way out the door. Her hands twitched as she held the gun, and she cursed Payton for refusing to instruct her in its proper use.

  The scent of snow in the air prompted her to say a prayer that she would reach her destination before the first flakes fell. She reached the stall and opened the door. As she led Winney to the wagon, she said, "There, there, girl. Stand still and be the cooperative dear that you have always been."

  Brianna laid the gun down on the ground. She'd bent to harness Winney when she heard footsteps on the path alongside the house.

  Her head darted up. She saw a huge shadow bearing down on her. She snatched up the rifle while on her knees and swung it into position. The shadow showed no sign of stopping at the threat of the gun. As it drew closer she realized she pointed the gun straight at Harrison MacAulay's dutiful, stubborn heart.

  "You!" She rose and backed away, her fingers relaxing on the trigger.

  He strode toward her, eyes ablaze, and halted in front her. He reached out and wound his hand around the gun's barrel, his eyes never leaving hers. Brianna released the rifle and he positioned it under his arm. "Don't ever point a gun at me."

  She stumbled back, placing more distance between them. "I would never have shot you!"

  "Get back to the house," he ordered.

  She watched him lead Winney back to her stall. Before locking the animal inside, he turned and pinned her with a look colder than the November night.

  "Didn't I tell you to get inside?"

  Brianna lifted her chin. "I'm not going to Scotland."

  He glared at her a moment longer before he swiveled around to complete his task. Within moments he left the stall and slammed the door shut.