When a Scot Ties the Knot (Castles Ever After #3)(35)

From one of the distant blackhouses rose the high, thin wail of an infant.

As they neared the baile, Logan drew Maddie to his side. “Listen to me. The -people here will likely be frightened when they see us.”

“Frightened of you?”

“No, of you.”

“Me?” she asked. “But I’m just an Englishwoman, and not a very big one at that.”

“That’s precisely why they’ll be terrified,” he said. “Have you never heard of the Countess of Sutherland?”

“Of course I’ve heard of her. One can’t fail to hear of her. She’s a fixture in London society. An accomplished painter, too. Quite elegant.”

“Oh, yes. So accomplished and elegant that she’s become the most ruthless landowner in all the Highlands.”

“I don’t believe that.”

He sighed with impatience. The lass was so bloody sheltered. Everything had been handed to her on a gilt--edged tray. She had no idea how the common folk of the Highlands lived. A futile sense of anger swelled in his chest.

“The countess inherited half of Sutherland when her parents died. In the past few years, her agents have evicted village after village, forcing Scotsmen off the land by the hundreds and thousands. Stealing their farmlands to make way for sheep, burning their cottages to the ground, and offering them little in the way of compensation. Often with the assistance of the British Army.”

He looked down at his redcoat with regret. He would have done better to wear a traditional great kilt today.

“Believe me, mo chridhe. The Highlands is the one place on earth where no one will underestimate the ability of a quiet--looking, gently bred Englishwoman to destroy lives.”

“That’s terrible.”

That was vastly understating matters. “Try criminal. Shameless. Unconscionable. Any of those words would better serve.”

She regarded the cluster of blackhouses. “So you’re worried they’ll think we’re here to evict them?”

“I wouldna doubt it,” he said. “Showing your face for the first time, with an officer of the Royal Highlanders at your side . . . ? They’ll likely fear they’re about to lose everything.”

“Oh, goodness.”

They were close enough now that Logan could glimpse faces in the windows of the cottages, peering out at them.

“Dinna worry,” he said. “I’ll assure them they’ve nothing to fear.”

“If you say so.”

A little smile curved her lips. Logan was irritated that she didn’t seem to understand what he was telling her.

“At least you’ve brought gifts. What’s in the basket?”

She rummaged through the contents. “A few sweetmeats and lozenges. Packets of raisins. But mostly it’s Aunt Thea’s surplus cosmetics and remedies. She sends away for every product advertised in every ladies’ magazine. I like to see them put to some use.”

He blinked at her. “These are your gifts?”

“Your men have depleted our stores of food, and I didn’t have time to prepare anything else.”

“What are they supposed to do with”—-he held up a brown bottle and peered at the label—-“Dr. Jacobs’ Miracle Elixir?” He plucked a small jar out next. “Excelsior Blemish Cream?”

“Women are women, Logan. Every girl needs a bit of luxury and a chance to feel pretty now and then.”

He passed a hand over his face. This was going to be a disaster.

“Miss Gracechurch! Miss Gracechurch!”

No sooner had Logan finished his stern warnings than the youngest occupants of the blackhouses began pouring out from their homes and rushing to meet Maddie in the lane. Soon she had children gathered around her, tugging at her skirts.

“What was that you said, Logan? That they’d be frightened of me?”

She reached into her basket and pulled out a handful of sweetmeats, distributing them into the waiting hands of the children.

“You might have mentioned that they’d know you already,” he said.

“And spoil your informative lecture on the evils of the Clearances? That would have been a pity.”

He shook his head. The canny minx.

“Hullo, Aileen.” She crouched at the side of a gap--toothed girl who could not have been more than four or five years old. “How is your scar then, dear?”

She lifted the edge of the girl’s sleeve and examined a thin red mark on her upper arm.

“Very cleanly healed. Good girl. You’ll have a biscuit for that.” She reached into her basket for the treat. “There, darling.”

Once Aileen had run off, Logan remarked, “That was an inoculation scar.”

Maddie nodded. “I’ve been visiting regularly ever since I took possession of the castle. When I learned none of the children had been inoculated, I made certain to order the cowpox matter from Dr. Jenner. We performed the inoculations a month or so ago.”

Damn, she just kept on surprising him. First with her beauty. Then with the illustrations. He’d been forced to accept that there was more to her character than he’d gleaned from her letters, but none of it fell too far outside the borders of his carefully mapped mental territory labeled “Madeline.” She was privileged, sheltered, intelligent, curious, and far too crafty.