Page 74 of Hard-Hearted Highlander
Lady Kent waited until she heard the sound of a door being slammed firmly shut, then she hurried from the room, too, her head down, her face pale.
Bernadette looked at Charles, who’d stood stoically at the sideboard as his lordship had railed. “He’s in a mood,” Charles muttered as he picked up his lordship’s plate.
“Too much drink,” Bernadette said. She pushed away from the sideboard and took her leave as well.
She didn’t go to see about Avaline’s face, however—she couldn’t face her again, not yet. She was still reeling. It was almost like a dream—Bernadette had admitted something so awful, so unforgivable, and Avaline had seemed not to care at all. A strong sense of foreboding was pressing down on her now, making her feel slightly panicked.
Something wasn’t right. Something about the way Avaline had taken the news was not right.
Bernadette ducked into the unfinished morning room and quietly shut the door. She stood with her back to a wall, holding herself, her eyes closed, and thought of the way Rabbie had held her, the way he’d looked at her, and the emotion, the relief and the adoration swimming in his eyes. She pictured him at the altar with Avaline. How could she bear to hear him swear to honor Avaline and be faithful to her? It was not to be born.
Bernadette ached with yearning for him. She turned and put her cheek to the wall, sliding her hand up the paneling, and closed her eyes. She thought she’d borne the worst this life had offered her, but she was beginning to fear she’d not yet begun to know pain. She would be forced to wait on Avaline after she was sleeping in Rabbie’s bed. She would be forced to listen to Avaline as she shared their most intimate details. She would see a baby grow in Avaline’s belly, and she could say nothing,donothing, for even the slightest glance would betray her agony and her impossible feelings for Avaline’s husband.
“I can’t remain here,” she said aloud, and opened her eyes. There was nothing to be done for it—she had to leave. At once. She would not stay here and watch their marriage unfold and be tormented at every turn. If Avaline didn’t have sense enough to turn her out, then she would resign her post and return to Highfield, no matter how difficult that would be. Whatever her father dealt out to her would surely be less painful than remaining here to suffer.
She pushed away from the wall, smoothed her gown and tucked up a tress of her hair. Tomorrow, then. She would see her way through this interminable supper, would pack her few things and resign her post first thing in the morning.
* * *
SOMEHOW, BERNADETTEMANAGEDto make it through the rest of the day in spite of the disorderly jumble of competing thoughts in her head. She repaired the hem on the gown Avaline was excited to wear this evening, which she’d thrust on Bernadette as if they’d never spoken this morning. She chattered about the wedding, and the wedding cup they would drink from, and the fish that would be served at the wedding breakfast. From all outward appearances, it seemed as if she was now looking forward to this wedding. Maybe she’d changed her opinion of Rabbie, too. Maybe she’d seen the same things in him that Bernadette had seen.
When the hem was prepared, Bernadette helped Lady Kent prepare place names for the wedding breakfast seating. By some miracle, the stroke of Bernadette’s quill was strong and steady. Remarkable, given that she almost blindly wrote each name, her mind’s eye filled with images of Rabbie.
She bathed and washed her hair, then dressed for dinner. She wore a pale silver mantua and stomacher, intricately embroidered with gold thread, and a trail of rosebuds sewn into the stomacher and around the edge of the sleeves. It was Bernadette’s best gown, the one she reserved for special occasions. She had meant to wear it to Avaline’s wedding, but now she wanted Rabbie to remember her in this gown when he thought of her in the weeks and months and years to come...if he remembered her at all. She winced at the thought, but it was entirely possible that with time, Rabbie would come to love Avaline, and Bernadette would be forgotten except perhaps in those moments when he happened to walk out on the cliff.
A knock at her door was followed by Charles’s deep voice. “The Mackenzies have come.”
Bernadette took one last look at herself. At least she didn’t appear as haunted as she felt. She drew a deep breath, then made her way downstairs.
The Mackenzies had come on horseback. Catriona was the first one to alight, and explained that her sister and her husband would not be attending this evening, as one of their children had turned ill. Lord Mackenzie was quite dashing on a horse, Bernadette thought, and she could see the sort of figure he must have presented to Lady Mackenzie all those years ago. Lady Mackenzie and Mrs. Cailean Mackenzie wore cloaks with hoods that covered their hair, and looked remarkably fresh after the ride. Cailean and Aulay Mackenzie, and Lord Chatwick, followed. Behind them was Rabbie.
He was not wearing the plaid today, but had dressed in evening attire she might see on an English gentleman. His neck cloth was tied with precision, his waistcoat plain, but clearly made of superior fabric. His hair was neatly combed and tied in a queue. In her eyes, he was the most handsome among them. A truly stunning, full figure of a man. But Bernadette almost preferred the rough-hewn side of him.
His gaze met hers for a single, sizzling moment as he dismounted. She feared he would speak to her, and she would collapse with grief, but then he turned his head and moved forward to greet the Kents.
Lord Kent had apparently spent the afternoon in his study with his whisky, for his wig was slightly askew and his neck cloth tied crookedly, and he was talking loudly about the lack of good servants in the Highlands, wondering aloud if the Mackenzies fared any better, then invited them inside.
As the gentlemen stood back to allow the ladies to precede them, Rabbie glanced at Bernadette.“Feasgar math,”he said lightly...but his eyes were boring through hers.
Bernadette could not bear to be so close to him and not touch him. Her only defense was to pretend as if nothing had happened between them. She inclined her head and curtsied. “Good evening, sir.”
“Oh, Miss Holly!” Lady Mackenzie said, halting her progress toward the door. “You’ve not had the pleasure of meeting my oldest son and his wife,” she said, and introduced her to Mr. Cailean Mackenzie and his wife.
“How do you do,” Bernadette said, greeting them. Mrs. Cailean Mackenzie smiled warmly and spoke to Bernadette about Scotland. While Bernadette somehow managed to answer her polite questions, she noticed from the corner of her eye that Avaline was standing with Aulay, and she observed how quickly her smile faded when Rabbie approached her. Bernadette’s anxiety began to soar. None of it made sense—Avaline had been so bloody cheerful about the wedding this afternoon, and now she looked as if she’d just realized who she’d be marrying and found him wanting.
The party meandered into the main salon, Bernadette the last to enter. She stood to one side, wishing she could disappear and trying hopelessly not to stare at Rabbie. Lord Kent was prattling about something to do with the cook, his voice loud and grating. What in blazes had happened with the cook? Whatever it was, he seemed obsessed with it.
Bernadette’s head began to ache. She touched her fingers to her temple, her thoughts and feelings roaring in her head. Nothing was making sense to her. Everything felt upside down.
The women arranged themselves on the settees, and the men took up positions about the room. Lord Chatwick was the only one of the gentlemen to sit, finding a seat next to Avaline on the settee.
Did she imagine it, or did everyone seem unusually tense? Bernadette glanced again at Rabbie. He was speaking quietly to his brother’s wife, and suddenly, both of them glanced at Bernadette. She quickly averted her gaze.
In that moment, Charles appeared before her. He handed her a glass of wine and said quietly, “The cook is leaving.”
Bernadette’s eyes widened. “I beg your pardon?”
He nodded, his gaze sliding to Lord Kent before walking away.
