Page 106 of The Devil of Clan Sinclair
Curious, she craned her neck to see if it was one of Macrath’s men bringing supplies. Earlier that day they’d come with firewood, food, and two blankets, explaining the early autumn winds could be fierce.
The first inkling she had that something was wrong was Hannah storming into the cottage. The maid’s lips were pursed, her eyes narrowed, and she halted in front of Virginia and folded her arms in a pugnacious stance. Her cheeks were bright red, and if that wasn’t an inclination something was amiss, Hosking following on her heels certainly was.
“How nice to see you, Hosking,” Virginia said, feeling the first tinge of anxiety. According to Hannah, her coachman had found occupation in Macrath’s stables, caring for their horses and performing any other chores he might find.
Hosking nodded, looking like he’d rather be anywhere but there. Hannah nudged him, and he removed his hat, ducking his head.
Yes, something was definitely wrong. Otherwise, Hosking wouldn’t have avoided her eyes.
She turned to Hannah, but before she could ask her what was happening, two other men entered the cottage.
Her anxiety mushroomed into panic.
Macrath was sending her packing. He wasn’t going to let her take Elliot back to London. He wasn’t going to listen to reason.
Would she ever be able to see her son again?
“Tell me,” she said, waiting for the words.
Please God, please God, please God, let me find some way to stay here. Let me be able to convince him to let me stay. Or take Elliot back to London. Please don’t let him banish me.
“The high and mighty Sinclair, the devil himself, wants you out of here,” Hannah said.
She wasn’t leaving Drumvagen without her son. She wasn’t going back to England alone. She had to think of something to convince Macrath to let her stay.
“We’re to bring all your things, and mine, to Drumvagen.”
The words didn’t make sense. She stared at Hannah, her heart beating so fiercely she could feel the pulse in the back of her throat.
“To Drumvagen? He’s not sending us back to England?”
Hannah’s eyes lost some of their heat. “No, your ladyship. He’s all for us moving to the house.”
“Is he?”
The surge of relief dizzied her. She sat at the small table, her fingers splayed across the wood. “Is he?” she repeated, staring down at its scarred surface.
She closed her eyes, took a deep breath.
“If you give him any trouble, Hosking is to carry you bodily back to Drumvagen. That’s what he said. Otherwise, the devil himself will come and get you.”
Opening her eyes, she said, “Will he?”
She couldn’t live at Drumvagen. The realization collided with her earlier envy. Nothing made any sense, let alone her chaotic thoughts. She couldn’t be close to Macrath.
She would want to touch him. Worse, she’d want him to touch her.
Rather than simply bearing his presence in the nursery, she’d see him in the hall, perhaps at meals. She’d smell the sandalwood perfuming his clothes, hear his voice, his laughter.
No, she couldn’t live at Drumvagen. How foolish could he be?
Didn’t he feel the attraction between them? What if he didn’t? What if he felt nothing for her?
She covered her face in her hands. She couldn’t even think about living at Drumvagen. Besides, who was he to say where she lived? As long as he allowed her to see Elliot every day, the cottage would be fine for her needs.
Being so close to Macrath, seeing him constantly, would not be a good idea. Surely, he could see that? Or perhaps he didn’t have the same reaction to her presence as she did to his. Perhaps he didn’t remember the last time she was at Drumvagen. No, she was definitely not going to recall those memories, and living at Drumvagen would make it more difficult to keep them at bay. She was only human, and regrettably weak where Macrath was concerned.
Standing, she brushed down her skirt, straightened her shoulders, and addressed all of them.
