The MacAulay Bride Read online

  "Harrison?"

  He looked at Brianna, disappointed to find her still wearing her black widow's weeds. He pointed at the gown on the mannequin. "This would be perfect for you. Try it on."

  She raised her brow. "I've already told you that I won't be going out into society since I'm in mourning." She looked at the gown then and narrowed her eyes. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you'd tipped a pint too many."

  He chuckled. "It's magnificent."

  "Do you believe me to be a woman of loose morals?" she snapped.

  His smile slipped. "Och, what are you talking about?"

  "You expect me to be happy to don a garment of such a garish color when only a woman of the--well, you know precisely what I mean!" she said indignantly.

  Harrison wasn't the least bit surprised when she turned on her heel and stormed from the shop.

  He paid for the clothing, including the red gown, and tossed Brianna's threadbare coat to Burke. "Get rid of it," he said, then headed toward the door. He noticed another coat, a full-length chocolate-colored fur. He turned to Burke. "What animal is this?"

  The older man beamed. "Why, the finest beaver this side of the Mississippi, Sir. It's warm enough a lady would roast, even on the coldest winter day."

  Harrison pondered the brisk cold winds that blew incessantly across Scotland's hills and valleys during the winter months. He pulled the coat from the model and tucked it beneath his arm. Once he'd paid for his purchases he followed Brianna down the street, enjoying the sight of her skirts twitching fetchingly as she headed for the wagon. He grimaced when she settled down in the driver's seat with the reins in hand.

  He went to the back of the wagon, gave Brianna a wry look in passing. While he straightened and shifted packages, he winked at Harry, who sat beside Jamie in the wagon bed.

  "What did you say to Ma? She looks real mad, Uncle Harry."

  Harrison chose his words carefully. "Your mother is having a difficult time adjusting to someone taking care of her. I could use your help. It's my responsibility to care for you boys, and your mother. We are a family now. I've spoken to you about moving to Scotland, and I believe you will enjoy the adventure, don't you?"

  They nodded in unison.

  "Then help me convince your mother that moving is the right thing to do."

  "What are you three whispering about back there?" Brianna asked impatiently. "If you expect supper tonight we had better head home soon."

  Harrison vaulted into the seat beside her and stretched out his legs in a seemingly nonchalant manner. Though his male pride shuddered at the very idea of her driving, he didn't want to upset her more. He hoped to heaven she was competent.

  Brianna spared him a sour glance before clicking her tongue and gently snapping the reins. He soon discovered that she was an excellent driver, and he relaxed. He'd vexed her plenty today by pressuring her into accepting the dresses.

  Hopefully, she'd include him at her supper table.

  ***

  As far as Brianna was concerned, Friday arrived much too soon. She glanced up from her packing and found Harrison lounging in her bedroom doorway.

  "I know you would like nothing better than to miss the train, but it won't matter. There will always be another one along."

  Brianna raised her brow. "Are you accusing me of delaying our departure?"

  "You have arranged and rearranged that particular trunk three times in the last hour," he said gently. "The boys and I have been sitting in the wagon for twenty minutes. Are you ready?"

  She banged the lid shut. "As ready as I'll ever be, I guess."

  He strode to her side, bent down and easily hoisted the trunk to his shoulder. Brianna admired the fine fit of his wool coat stretching across his broad back and shoulders. It appeared that the head of the MacAulays was as strong as an ox. Of course, she had challenged his masculinity when she suggested earlier that they hire some strong young men to help them load up the wagon. He'd tersely told her he would handle the job and went on to prove himself more than capable.

  She sighed, thinking how her sons had even turned traitor on her. Harrison had gained their devotion and unequivocal loyalty once he'd purchased everything their yearning, greedy little hearts desired.

  Harrison entered the bedroom again as she closed the lid on another trunk. "This is the last one."

  "Amen." He strode to the trunk, hefted it to his shoulder and left the room once more.

  Brianna trudged down the stairs behind him, pausing in the entrance to the parlor. She gazed at her worn red divan and chair and, with a melancholy smile, recalled Payton's initial reaction to the furnishings she had purchased after they married. His words, even now, years later, brought a smile to her lips.

  "Good God! The parlor looks like a bloody brothel," he'd exclaimed before suggesting she exchange the furnishings for items a bit more sedate. Brianna held fast to her choice, though, and the furniture had stayed. Having spent many years in St. Benedict's Orphanage, where the furnishings had little comfort and style, the red divan and chair had suited her perfectly. Tears filled her eyes at both the bitter and joyous memories of their years together. Her eyes stung when they lit upon the old wooden rocker where she had rocked and fed her babies.

  "Just once more," she whispered as she sat down and closed her eyes.

  ***

  Harry scrambled from the wagon when Harrison said, "Go and see what is keeping your mother."

  The boy scampered up the path to the house. Harrison smiled when he heard him shout in an astonishingly adult fashion, "Aw, come on, Ma. We'll miss the train!" Brianna might deny the allegation, but Harrison knew she had not resigned herself to leaving her home.

  Within moments, Harry appeared, bounded down the sidewalk and came to a screeching stop by the wagon.

  "Ma said she's not coming, Uncle Harry!"

  Harrison uncrossed his arms, his heart pounding in his chest. "Do tell?"

  Harry nodded. "She said the only way she's leaving is if you make her."

  "I see." Harrison shoved his spectacles into position, then jumped down. "Wait here. I'll be back shortly." He strode up the path and entered the house, where he found Brianna sitting in her rocking chair with her eyes closed.

  "Confound it, Brianna," he began irritably, pausing when he saw that the front of her dress was soaking wet. Tears were slipping slowly down her cheeks. His heart sank at her bleak look and he squatted down beside her. Reaching up, he stroked her cheek, catching a tear on one finger.

  Not sparing him so much as a glance, she spoke softly, her hands clenched in her lap. "I remember the day Payton purchased this house. It's hard to believe that was ten years ago. At the time, I felt it much too pretentious, much too fine. Payton laughed at first, then explained why he'd chosen it. The house reminded him a bit of his family's home, Winterhaven, on a smaller scale, of course. When I said it was too costly, he'd only laughed and said he could afford it."

  She stopped rocking and turned sad blue eyes on him. "And now you tell me I must leave my home. I'm afraid I'm not strong enough to do so. It would be like admitting I want to go when all I want is to stay here, inside these familiar walls."

  Harrison covered her hand with his, realizing she was frightened--more than she would ever admit, he guessed--more than he expected. And she was lonely.

  "You have a new home and family," he reminded her. "And remember, your furnishings will be transported on another ship shortly. Once your possessions arrive in Scotland, you'll feel at home. Now, then, we'll have plenty of time to talk about things, and sort all of this out during our journey. It's past time we left."

  She continued rocking and didn't reply.

  "You will not leave on your own then, is that it?"

  She clenched her eyes tight. "I cannot."

  Harrison gritted his teeth. "So be it, Madam." He came to his feet, bent and scooped her up easily from the chair. As he strode out of the house he fully expected her to show some resistance so he tightened his grip on her. She
took him completely by surprise when she went limp in his arms and laid her head upon his chest. He swallowed the lump in his throat.

  When they reached the wagon she lifted her arms and wound them around his neck. Her long delicate fingers sent shivers up his spine. He stifled a delighted groan when her breasts brushed against his chest. He looked up and noticed Harry and Jamie's wide-eyed looks from where they sat in the back of the wagon.

  "Ma didn't faint, did she?" Harry whispered.

  "No, but she is very sad about leaving. She will be fine once we board the train." He reached out and grasped the side of the wagon. He pulled himself up keeping Brianna securely locked against his chest, then he settled her down on the seat beside him.

  Harry scooted forward and handed his mother's coat to Harrison. He draped it around her shoulders, eased her limp arms into the armholes and buttoned it up to her chin. She looked at him then and Harrison saw the sad, bewildered look in her eyes.

  "I give you my solemn vow, Brianna, everything will be fine."

  Tears filled her eyes and she bit her lip. After a moment, she said, "Please, don't make promises you cannot possibly keep." She turned away and focused her eyes on the road.

  Harrison heaved a deep sigh and snapped the reins against Winney's back. For ten long years he'd wanted this woman. Now that he had her in his possession, he vowed nothing would separate them.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  December 5, 1888

  Somewhere in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean

  Brianna paced the promenade deck of the steamship Atlantis, a scowl on her face. "Why the devil hasn't he come out of his cabin yet?"

  Harry and Jack sat side by side upon wooden deck chairs, shuffling decks of cards. Her brow knitted thoughtfully as she watched their small hands practice the shuffling movements Harrison had taught them on the train. He'd also given them instructions in poker and how to place wagers.

  "Who, Ma?" Harry asked.

  "Your uncle. He made such haste to sell our home and hustle us on board this monstrous, heaving ship, and now he completely ignores us."

  "But the captain told us not to worry," Harry said. "Uncle Harrison's just decapitated."

  Brianna gently corrected him. "Incapacitated, darling." She smiled at the thought of cutting off the head of this fine laird from Scotland. "I cannot imagine that man having an ill bone in his big body. I do not for a single minute believe he's sick. He just doesn't give a whit about us, now he's fulfilled his wretched duty."

  "So, Uncle Harrison's not gonna get me a pony?" Jamie looked at her woefully.

  She reached down and tousled his hair. "Don't worry. You'll get your pony." Along with everything else she had managed to wheedle out of him. She frowned. All right, so she hadn't found it necessary to sweet-talk him out of a blessed thing. He'd given his word he would meet all her demands, if she would cooperate with the move to Scotland.

  Seven days ago they had boarded the Atlantis in New York City's Harbor. The train trip had been smooth and uneventful, once she and Harrison had reached a truce of sorts. Now, she found herself in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, and he had deserted them.

  She leaned against the ship's railing and stared out to sea, marveling at how her life had changed in such a short time. Suddenly she gasped, "Boys, come look at the whale. Oh, how magnificent!"

  They scampered off their chairs and ran to her. Following the direction of her finger pointing out to sea they crowed when they caught a glimpse of the fluke of a whale as it disappeared beneath the cold, churning water.

  "Incredible, aren't they?" asked a man, his cultured voice a bit high-pitched.

  Brianna whirled around in surprise and met the unwavering blue eyes of a stranger standing close beside her. He was inches taller than she, as tall as Harrison, with a narrow and elegant build, and he appeared close to her age. His frock coat and trousers were made of lightweight wool in a brilliant green color, the vest fashioned in gold silk, unlike Harrison's preferred subdued-colored clothing.

  She examined him and wondered if perhaps his nature was geared toward some other persuasion, even though she hadn't had first hand experience of such men. After a moment she dismissed the notion. There was something intrinsically masculine about him, even though his clothing and voice indicated otherwise. She flushed when his gaze casually roved down her body and lingered on her breasts.

  When he returned his gaze to her face he gave her a benign smile. "Their numbers have dwindled over the years. It is predicted that within the next century some of the species will be extinct."

  "How sad," she murmured.

  "The whaling industry is a profitable enterprise." He looked at Harry and Jamie who stood with their small hands wrapped around the ship's railing. Their eyes were wide with excitement as they waited for the appearance of another whale. "Are they yours?"

  "Yes," Brianna replied levelly, realizing the man's accent was similar to Harrison's.

  "You are exceedingly lucky, and your husband as well."

  "Thank you." She started backing away from him.

  He gently took her elbow, preventing her from escaping. "Don't leave yet, pretty lady. I can share my knowledge with you. About the whales."

  Brianna extracted her arm from his grasp and lifted her chin. "No, I do not believe so." She turned to her sons. "It is time for luncheon, children." She placed her hands on their shoulders and guided them down the ship's deck.

  The man followed them. "I would be honored if you would consent to join me at my table. Especially since your husband does not appear to be traveling with you."

  Lord, but he is persistent! "He is here, but in our cabin, convalescing from an illness."

  He grasped her arm and brought her to a complete halt. "Please allow me to introduce myself."

  "Ma don't care who you are!" Harry shouted.

  The dandy laughed at Harry. He turned amused eyes on Brianna. "This youngster could use some manners."

  "The boy's correct," a low, furious voice said from behind them. "My wife doesn't give a bloody damn what your name is."

  Brianna breathed a sigh of relief at Harrison's unexpected intervention. At this moment she understood perfectly why he'd insisted they pose as a married couple.

  "Remove yer hand, MacPhearson, or ye will be very, very sorry."

  The man's face paled as he slowly released Brianna.

  Brianna knew Harrison was furious because his Scots burr was so evident. She was stunned to realize he knew this man! She stared at him as he swayed in the hallway that led to his cabin. His legs were spread wide, his spectacles sat crookedly on the bridge of his nose. He hadn't buttoned his white shirt, and in his haste had strung a black tie around his neck. His inky thatch of hair was standing on end. Even in his disheveled condition, he was a splendid example of masculinity.

  "Well, this is a surprise." The man's voice was smooth and droll. "Ye do get around, old man. And surprisingly well fer someone who cannot abide sea travel," he said with a laugh.

  Harrison closed the distance between them. "What in bloody hell are ye doing here, MacPhearson?"

  MacPhearson backed up a few paces and stared at Brianna with a gleam in his eye. "Wife, ye say? Ye have been holding out on us!" He backed up further and added, "To answer yer question, my sister and I decided to take the grand tour again, only this time we included America in our schedule. Ah, New York City is magnificent, isn't it?" He sighed. "Alas, it is truly unfortunate Americans have no breeding."

  "Connie is here?"

  "No. I left her in New York. She developed a fondness for the place. So, you have taken a wife, have ye? Connie will be shocked, and disappointed." MacPhearson gave Brianna another appreciative look. "She is delightful, MacAulay--for an American, that is--and quite beautiful."

  Brianna grew uneasy when she saw the fury in Harrison's expression. Unwisely, the foolish man dared to speak again. "Obviously, yer wife is a wonderful breeder, which is a necessary requirement for ye, isn't it? And I must say ye have found
her just in the nick of time!"

  She couldn't believe the man's audacity when he chuckled again. Harrison appeared on the verge of committing murder.

  Harrison's gaze remained riveted on the man, yet he directed his words to Brianna. "I will meet you in the dining room when I'm through here."

  "Through?" She did not like the sound of that at all, having no desire for him to get into fisticuffs with the man. She proceeded to button up Harrison's shirt, as she would perform the small task for her sons. Only this wasn't a child she tended, she thought, her eyes gazing upon his broad, furred chest. By the time she reached the top button her cheeks felt decidedly warm. "Darling," she said gently, "I'll fetch your coat and you may join us for dinner."

  He turned to Harry, ignoring her. "Son? Escort your mother to the dining room, please."

  "You bet, Uncle Harrison!"

  Harry and Jamie each grabbed one of Brianna's hands and for the first time she noticed their anxious expressions. She left with them, all the while hoping Harrison wouldn't get into a brawl.

  Half an hour later Brianna and her boys had finished eating a supper of Boston baked beans, brown bread and butter, and fried chicken. She glanced at the pin watch on her bodice as she rose from her seat. "I'm going to check on your uncle, boys. As soon as you finish your cherry pie, return to your cabin. Understand?"

  Leaving the boys at the table, Brianna made her way to Harrison's suite. She stood in the hallway, her hand poised to knock when the door swung open and a steward emerged. "Is...is my husband all right?"

  The young man shook his head. "Never have I seen a worse case of seasickness in all my bloody days, Ma'am." He nodded at the door. "Never seen a gentleman still upchucking his food, even when his belly's empty. If I was you, Mrs. MacAulay, I'd be worried he ain't keeping even water down."

  He strode away, leaving Harrison's cabin unguarded, which surprised her. She had tried entering the suite on numerous occasions in the last few days, but had been turned away by one of the crewmembers. Carefully, she opened the door and slipped inside.

  Harrison stood beside his rumpled bed, leaning over a chamber pot on a small table attached to the decking. His naked back was broad and tanned, his waist lean. He shivered. Brianna saw that his splendid torso was covered in a fine sheen of moisture. She searched the cabin for a pitcher of water. When she didn't find one she scowled and slipped out the door.