Chapter 16 Husband and Wife
If Mr and Mrs MacGregor were surprised to see Elizabeth up at Càrn Gorm Castle, they did not show it. Mrs MacGregor guided Elizabeth to her suite of rooms who were, fortunately, separated from the master's chamber by a door with a sturdy lock. Her chest from Longbourn stood in her dressing room, the clothes were unpacked and hung, free of wrinkles, ready to be used. The chest still contained some of her possessions, her books and a small box of jewellery. She took out the last items and put the box on her vanity and the books on her bedside table. There were only three that she thought she could not do without on her journey north. Mr Bingley's neglected library had made her wary of the state of Pemberley's library despite Miss Bingley's opinion on the matter. Miss Bingley would praise the Darcys even if it was blatantly untrue, that much she had gathered from her incessant flattering. When she arrived at Pemberley, it had been clear that this was not one of Miss Bingley's exaggerations to ingrate herself amongst the Darcys but a true statement of the magnificence of a well-stocked library.
The best part of Càrn Gorm Castle was still the warmth though. The blaze crackled mirthfully in the fireplace, Elizabeth gravitated towards the welcome contribution to her new accommodations. She would suffer no more awakenings in the middle of the night, trembling in a freezing chamber. It was a trait she would not miss, not that there was much else about Loch an Eilein Castle she would long for. The long days with nothing to do and certainly not the company although the company here at Càrn Gorm left much to be desired as well, there were more of it and hopefully not all of a taciturn disposition.
A maid magically appeared as Elizabeth entered her dressing room to decide what to wear for supper. She would not like to appear eager yet her old clothes held much comfort. It was a piece of Longbourn that was still with her. Stitches made by her mother, Jane and Betty, their housemaid on fabrics and colours she had chosen from uncle Gardiner's warehouse vast selection.
"Lady Eilein," the maid greeted with a curtsy.
Elizabeth reacted slowly as she was not used to that appellation yet.
"I am Evina and I have been appointed to be your lady's maid, lady Eilein. That's to say if you are pleased with my work, milady."
Elizabeth eyed the young girl who by age alone could not have much experience but she would give her the benefit of doubt for the moment. She would not be surprised if she needed to teach the girl but that could be a pleasant occupation. First, she had to address her initial mistake.
"It is customary to address your lady's maid with her surname. Pray, what is yours?"
"MacGregor, mam."
Of course, Elizabeth thought wryly, they were all called MacGregor up here.
"Are you related by any chance to Mr and Mrs MacGregor?"
"Yes, they are my aunt and uncle."
Good, she was not another daughter. She may be more inclined to conversation.
Elizabeth looked over her wardrobe, not any more decisive than she had been a moment ago.
"Which gown would you suggest for dinner, MacGregor?"
"Your white ball gown is your best gown, I would suggest you save that for a special occasion. This golden gown with the flower adornments is very beautiful," Evina suggested.
"It is not gold," Elizabeth corrected. "It is light brown silk which shimmers, making it appear a little as gold, I suppose. I and my eldest sister spent many hours making these flowers that adorn the neckline, bodice and hem. We cut them out from an old curtain and sew them on with these little pearls in the middle. We sat for days on end; it must be hundreds of flowers here."
Elizabeth felt more composed by the happy memory than she had been since she accepted the laird of Eilein's atrocious proposal. Her marital duties could not so horrible to quench these small feelings of happiness she was now afforded, surely?
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Evina gave Elizabeth directions to the dining room when she had finished dressing and her hair had been arranged with much clucking and sighing from the maid. Elizabeth knew very well that her wild curls had suffered from months of neglect, quite deliberately from her side as she had hoped to deter Laird Eilein from his cause but he had not seemed to notice. Her hair needed oil and a good brushing. Admittedly, Evina did know her way with her unruly tresses. The result was not at all bad, she reckoned when she studied her reflection in the mirror.
The dining room was large and airy. Mr MacGregor, his wife and daughter were seated at the table with Laird Eilein's aunt and the laird himself. He rose upon her entrance and bowed stiffly.
"I beg you pardon my tardiness," Elizabeth pronounced but did not explain. She thought procrastination offered as her excuse would not be well received.
"Welcome to Càrn Gorm Castle, Lady Eilein," the laird offered graciously with no further comment to her late arrival.
As soon as she sat down the footmen started to fill their bowls with soup and glasses with wine.
Elizabeth had not had a drop of wine since Pemberley and sipped daintily on her glass. It tasted heavenly but she must mind how much she drank. It would not do to become tipsy on this particular night and the wine had not been watered down as she was used to from home.
She let her eyes wander over the participants. Lady Annabel was blatantly staring at her with wide incomprehensible eyes.
"Who is that, son?" Lady Annabel pointed a long narrow finger at Elizabeth.
"My wife, Elizabeth. I told you about her before dinner."
"Yes, but I have never seen her so I had to ask to make sure. Why was I not invited to the wedding?"
Laird Eilein stole a glance at Elizabeth to gauge her reaction. Elizabeth schooled her features into a neutral expression and brought another spoonful of soup to her mouth. She had learnt that the Highland idea of good breeding precluded expression of wonder at any novelty.
"We did not have a wedding, it was a handfasting."
"You simply must have a wedding. We should invite the Duke of Gordon, the Grants, the MacPhersons, the Gordons, the Donnachaidhs and the Farquharsons. We should have a merry feast with dancing and dining well into the summer night."
"It is winter, aunt. No one would want to travel in their finest attire in this cold weather."
"We could invite them to stay?"
"We only have forty chambers aunt. I doubt we could accommodate several hundred guests."
"When it is summer then?"
"Yes, I am sure we could celebrate in the summer."
Elizabeth had paid close attention to the conversation at the other end of the table while eating her soup. It was canny how he did not gainsay his aunt regardless of how rudely interfering or impossible to accomplish, her requests were. He mollified her like he was walking on eggshells around her which Elizabeth thought interesting to study. The only one who paid her any attention was Miss MacGregor, so she had free rein to study the residents of Càrn Gorm Castle.
"We could start planning the decorations, Lady Annabel. We would have plenty of time to embroider table cards and paint beautiful invitations."
"Oh yes!" Lady Annabel rose swiftly from the table, her chair clattered to the floor behind her.
"Not now, Lady Annabel. We have to finish our meal before we do our chores." Mrs MacGregor admonished sternly.
"Yes, I forgot." The lady sat down again at the table.
Lady Annabel was a tall lady with silver streaks in her dark hair. Elizabeth guessed she was somewhere between forty and fifty years old, probably leaning more towards the latter. Her bloom had somewhat faded but you could tell she had once been the bell of the ball.
"Did you manage to close off Eilein?" Laird Eilein enquired of Mr MacGregor.
Elizabeth's attention was fixed on their conversation. She had perceived it as Miss MacGregor were always at Eilein. To learn that it was not the case baffled her although she had no difficulty in understanding why Miss MacGregor would not like to spend the winter at the dreadfully cold castle. It was strange though, sitting around the dining table discussing mundane topics like a normal family when so little reminded her of such below the surface. No one addressed her but she was quite content listening to everyone else's conversation. It gave a better sense of who they were. It struck her as odd though, that the grieve and housekeeper ate with the residents and that no one seemed particularly frightened of the laird of Eilein. They spoke to him as they did to each other with no pronounced deference.
After the meal had been consumed, Elizabeth rose to leave the gentlemen to their port as was the custom. She had no idea where to lead the ladies but chose to address that little conundrum out of earshot of her husband.
She halted in the hallway and looked at Lady Annabel expectantly but the lady stared blankly back at her. Elizabeth stifled a sigh and flat out inquired.
"Where do you usually revert to after dinner?"
Lady Annabel did not reply, it was Mrs MacGregor who brought her out of her spell and suggested the music room or the red parlour. Since Elizabeth had no idea where any of the rooms were situated. She suggested that Mrs MacGregor should lead the way.
"Have you not had a tour of the house, Lady Eilein?" Mrs MacGregor enquired.
"No, not beyond the gallery and my suite of rooms."
"I was certain that...never mind, I will give you a thorough tour on the morrow. It is too dark to see at night, if that is agreeable to you?"
"Yes," the elder Lady Annabel answered before Elizabeth had time to reply.
"I meant, Lady Eilein." Mrs MacGregor clarified.
"Oh yes, my George has married."
Mrs MacGregor led them to the music room where a pianoforte stood at the centre with small tables with settees and chairs grouped around it. Elizabeth automatically gravitated towards the beautiful instrument and let her hand grace the ivory keys. It had been months since she had played, her fingers must be stiff and uncooperative but she longed to play. She hardly noticed that Mrs MacGregor guided Lady Annabel out of the room and left her with Miss MacGregor.
"Do you play, Lady Eilein?"
"I used to, a long time ago."
"I would not mind," Miss MacGregor implied.
Elizabeth thought wryly that it would relieve the taciturn lady of having to converse with her as the mature ladies had left them. She complied and sat down on the stool and raffled through the sheets available. It was music that had been all the rage decades ago but Elizabeth was not fastidious and Longbourn had not been the most fashionable home in that respect. The music was familiar, containing a few sheets Elizabeth's grandmother had favoured. It was the songs Elizabeth had first learned at her grandmother's gentle tutelage when she had been a mere child.
Elizabeth was still playing when the gentlemen joined them. Mrs MacGregor had not returned so Mr MacGregor excused himself to aid his wife, making Elizabeth wish for Miss MacGregor's continuing presence or otherwise she would be left with her husband. Even the word, husband, left a foul taste in her mouth. She tried valiantly, not to look at him but he was a difficult man to overlook. She needed not to see him feel his presence in the room but her eyes wandered to his preferred corner regardless. He stood, leaning on his arm in the window sill, staring at her with his mouth puckered like she was someone to be disdained. His gaze was so intense it made Elizabeth's hair stand on her neck and squirm in her seat. She closed her eyes to evict him from her mind but it was of no use. All her efforts to quench the dread of what was to come was a futile endeavour. She better get it over with rather than keep stalling the inevitable.
Elizabeth finished her song and rose from the stool. Both Miss MacGregor and the laird of Eilein applauded her meagre efforts which had by no means been flawless. She curtsied and walked towards the door.
"Good night," she spoke to no one in particular and left.
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Elizabeth dressed for the night with the aid of Evina. She had taken an instant liking to her maid who was a happy carefree sort of person. She was full young, about sixteen, Elizabeth guessed but as long as she performed adequately, Elizabeth did not mind.
The maid braided her hair and donned a nightgown she had inherited from Jane who was taller than Elizabeth by two inches. It was an old well-worn favourite, modest and warm.
The maid was dismissed as soon as she was ready, Elizabeth did not want to expose her maid to the presence of her husband who would surely come to visit her at some course of the evening. When was another matter? Elizabeth had left him with Miss MacGregor who seemed on amicable terms with the laird. For such taciturn and unsocial beings, they spoke easily amongst themselves, more like old friends than employer and employee. Reared together, here in the back of beyond with no other children to play with.
Elizabeth sat down at her writing desk with a book but it could not hold her attention through a complete sentence, much less an entire paragraph. She kept rereading the first line until she grew heartily sick of it and flung the book on her desk, none too gently. She immediately regretted her thoughtless action and checked the book for any damage. It had escaped her fit of pique unscathed.
She put the book away and went to gaze out the window. With overcast skies, her surroundings were as dark as she felt in her soul. With nothing to gain by watching the blackness beyond the window, Elizabeth started pacing the length of her chamber. Back and forth, relentlessly. How long she had been doing that when the knock came, she knew not but it felt entirely too short. She drew to a halt and glance at the clock on her mantelpiece who showed her it had not been much above a half-hour since Evina had left her.
"Enter," she called with some trepidation.
The door opened slowly to reveal her husband, he stepped into the room and closed it behind him. With his back turned towards her and his hand lingering on the door handle, it seemed like he was contemplating leaving as soon as he had arrived. Her husband had doffed his coat and appeared in his waistcoat but otherwise, he was fully clothed. Elizabeth felt bare in her nightgown and robe, like she was offering herself to him when that could not be further from the truth. She resumed her pacing, mostly because she could not bear to stand still, watching his back.
The movement brought the laird out of his stupor and he turned slowly towards her with an expression Elizabeth could not interpret. He was searching her eyes rather than her apparel which was a comfort. She noticed he had a bottle of wine in his hand and two glasses protruded from his pockets.
"Would you like a glass of wine?" he lifted the bottle in the air.
"Yes, thank you," Elizabeth replied and tried to act nonchalantly when she joined him on a chair by the fire. It seemed safe with the table between them.
Laird Eilein poured the wine and sipped at his glass, Elizabeth mimicked him while searching for something to say. She gazed into the flames like they held a topic of conversation. It was awkward at best, to sit here beside the man that had abducted her—as his wife. It was impossible to interact with him without a combination of dread and loathing that did not bode well for their marriage. She shut down as much as she could muster, closed off her emotions in the deepest recesses of her soul and turned to her husband, clutching her hands together to prevent them from fidgeting with her skirt.
"Does your suite of rooms meet with your approval?"
Elizabeth wished she had not flinched when he spoke but it was an involuntary movement.
"Yes, it is a handsome suite," Elizabeth acknowledged, looking about the room. It was a nice occupation and kept her from stealing glances at her husband.
It was true, she could not fault her accommodations. The chamber was light and spacious, decorated in white wallpaper with greyish-blue flowers that were repeated on the canopy above her four-poster bed with snow-white linens. White panelling and trimmings lightened the chamber further. Her dressing room was adequately fitted and could hold more garments than she would ever own. It must have been built when hoops and big skirts were all the rage. Her bed chamber contained a seating area before the fire where they were currently sitting and a writing desk she was not allowed to use before she had delivered an heir and bookshelf, much too large for her meagre collection of three books. Elizabeth had no complaints about her surroundings. Compared to Eilein Castle, it was warm which was of utmost importance. It was the company she objected to.
"You may order any changes you like; Mrs MacGregor will see to it."
Elizabeth might have let her disgust show in her countenance because Laird Eilein averted his gaze quickly after their eyes had locked. Served him right if he thought her surroundings would have any bearing when her freedom had been taken away from her.
"Thank you," she replied by her ingrained politeness that her inclination did not muster to quench.
"You play beautifully on the pianoforte."
"There is no need to flatter me, I profess no false modesty when I admit I play rather poorly. I have not had the opportunity to practice."
"Your fingering may lack some practice but you play with feeling which cannot be thought."
Elizabeth started to wonder if Laird Eilein's incessant praise might be a ruse to flatter her into submission. She knew enough about her faults, not to be swayed by a few empty words. It made her uneasy rather than pleased and she clutched her hands tighter together, unaware they were turning white.
"I cannot do this!"
"What!" What could the laird of Eilein possibly mean by that statement, what was it he could not do?
He rose from his chair and went to rest his arm on the mantelpiece, gazing into the flames with his back turned. Elizabeth would have preferred he had faced her so that she could have read his countenance.
Laird Eilein resumed his speech in a low, hoarse voice.
"You are uncomfortable with me. I thought I would be able to overlook that to the greater good of the Eilein clan but I cannot. Your valiant efforts to conceal your trepidation has not been successful and force is my abhorrence. I cannot take what you would not surrender willingly. Goodnight, Lady Eilein."
He stalked out of her chamber with a backward glance so menacing Elizabeth thought it might set her aflame. Relief flooded Elizabeth who clutched her chest, her heart felt like it was about to beat through her ribcage. She was saved from a gruelling chore she had dreaded most profoundly.
However, anger soon replaced the relief. What a deceitful man he was, claiming abhorrence towards the use of force when force was exactly how he had ripped her from her family and friends, dragged her halfway across the country and held her captive for months. It was ridiculously contradictive to everything he had done hitherto.
It dawned on her that the turn of the evening's events would prohibit her from having the child that would secure her a link to her family. If only by exchanging letters, she could get word to her father that she was alive and reasonably well if one overlooked the circumstances she was living under. Her family must be frantic with worry or rather deep in grief. They must have given up finding her by now, it was months since she was taken and nothing suggested Laird Eilein had notified her family that she was currently living in a castle in the Scottish Highland. Aviemore, she had gauged to be the village, not so far away that it could not be travelled back and forth in a day. She had never heard of the place but she had read about the Cairngorm mountains and knew it was located way north of Edinburgh, closer to Inverness. It was unfathomable to think that she had walked most of the distance and even more unbelievable that she had ridden the rest. Her father would never come looking for her here, it was too incredible to imagine.
Exhausted, Elizabeth paddled to bed. The thoughts about her future must wait until the morrow. For now, she was safe and warm in her private chamber. The fire was burning in the hearth and her virginity was still intact.