The Seduction Of Elliot McBride(36)
Author: Jennifer Ashley

By midmorning, Castle McGregor buzzed like a hive, workers crawling all over it—raising dust, hammering, breaking away old things and putting up new. The kitchen overflowed with food, Mahindar, Channan, Nandita, Hamish, and Mrs. Rossmoran’s granddaughter Fiona cooking up a storm and watching Priti at the same time. The nanny goat eyed Mahindar nervously as he approached her, but Mahindar only wanted a bit of milk.

Juliana commandeered a section of the dining room table, where she wrote letters, made her lists, and summoned Hamish from time to time with a handbell, which she’d found rolling in a drawer in the sideboard.

One of the smaller rooms on the ground floor, whose windows overlooked the land sloping down to the sea, would be sunny in the mornings, perfect as her writing room. The room next to it, large and airy, would be the breakfast room. She looked forward to mornings there with Elliot—he reading his newspapers, she reading and answering her correspondence.

Cozy, domestic, warm.

When the house was whole, she told herself, Elliot would no longer have his bad dreams and waking visions of the past. He was a natural leader—the way he handled the men working on the house told her that. He’d be himself again. They’d have summer fêtes and the shooting in August, Christmas and New Year’s, and then return to Edinburgh or London—wherever her family and his decided to go—for the social rounds of the Season.

Mahindar fed them all lunch, mostly bread, meat, and cheese—probably Fiona Rossmoran’s suggestion, though Mahindar brought Juliana a lentil and chicken stew with goat’s milk that was seasoned to perfection.

The men worked throughout the afternoon, their banging and shouting somehow comforting. The old house had been quiet too long. Now it teemed with life.

Even McGregor was excited. He’d longed to repair the place, he’d said, for years, but he’d had no money, and he wasn’t the sort of laird who’d force his tenants to work for no pay.

As the workday waned and the men went home with their families, Mahindar came to Juliana’s dining room corner and cleared his throat. Juliana looked up from her list of supplies to find him curling and uncurling his large hands in nervousness.

“What is it, Mahindar?” she asked in alarm. “Is Mr. McBrideunwell again?”

“No, no, the sahib is fine,” Mahindar said quickly. “No, the thing I do not want to have to tell you is that we have a thief.”

“A thief?” Juliana glanced at the jumble of furniture piled into the dining room, put there so the men could tear apart the other rooms. “How can you tell anything is missing? Or even what there was to be missing in the first place?”

“From the kitchen, I mean,” Mahindar said. “Food.”

Juliana’s alarm dissolved. “You cooked many meals today. Food was going in and out. So many brought food—I doubt they were stealing it.”

“Memsahib, please let me explain.”

He had a point. Juliana closed her mouth and motioned for him to proceed.

Except that he didn’t proceed. Mahindar stood still, his fingers curling again, his distress plain.

Juliana said, “I assure you that whatever you tell me will not leave this room. If you don’t wish me to tell even Mr. McBride, I will not.”

Mahindar sighed. “I wish to be mistaken about this. I very much wish it. I like him—he is so very eager even if he is clumsy sometimes. But he took a large plate of ham and six naan Channan had just pulled from the oven, and ran out the back door. He thought himself stealthy, and he was, because only my mother saw him. My mother, she told me.”

Juliana had to smile. “If you are speaking of Hamish, perhaps he was simply hungry. He has been working hard.”

Mahindar shook his head. “No, memsahib. He’d already eaten well. He wrapped these up and vanished with them, then came back soon after, trying to look innocent.”

Hamish? Juliana wouldn’t have thought it of him. Hamish had told her he lived with his mother, sister, and uncle on a small farm, his father having died a few years ago. Juliana hadn’t heard that the McIver family was especially poor, but times could be difficult in the Highlands. Farming didn’t pay what it used to, sheep were usually owned by the large landholders, and many crofters continued to stream to the factories in Glasgow and the north of England to find steady wages.

“Thank you, Mahindar,” Juliana said. “I will speak to Hamish and sort this out.” She put the lid on her inkpot and set aside her pen and her lists. “You need say nothing of this to him or Mr. McBride.”

Mahindar looked both relieved and unhappy at the same time. “I do like the boy. He puts me in mind of myself as a youth. So eager to please, and I know that I was not always pleasing.”

“I will take it up with him. You go and rest now. You’ve done so much today.”

He looked surprised. “No, indeed, there is much more to be done. Much more. Thank you, memsahib.”

Juliana waited until Mahindar had gone then went in search of Hamish.

“Juliana.”

Elliot’s voice rumbled through the narrow passage between main hall and kitchen as she walked there to look for Hamish. A moment later, Elliot was next to Juliana, pushing her up against the wall.

He curved his body over hers, warmth surrounding her. Instead of speaking to her, perhaps asking where she was going, Elliot put his fist beneath her chin, tilted her head back, and kissed her.

He crushed Juliana back against the wall, trapping her with his strength, and scraped his tongue between her lips. His mouth stole, commanded, left her breathless.

As abruptly as the kiss had begun, Elliot eased it to its end. He looked down at her a moment, then he released her, dropped a kiss to the corner of her mouth, and faded away down the hall without saying a word. His kilt moved against his backside, the hem swinging with his stride.

Juliana remained against the wall, knees weak, her hands pressing the cold stone to keep herself upright as she watched him go.

She was still struggling for breath when Hamish himself came down the passage at his usual half run.

“Hamish.” She made herself stand up straight. “Hamish, stop.”

Hamish halted obediently, panting from his exuberant pace. “Yes, m’lady? Something I can do for you?” He sounded happy, not guilt stricken at all.

Juliana groped for a way to broach the subject tactfully but decided that asking straight out was best. “What do you know about some ham and bread that’s gone missing?”