“That is no’—”
“But what of a woman’s desire, I ask you? Am I to have no say in it? Must I be subjected to him because he canna help himself? I tried to warn Mrs. Garbett and Sorcha about him, on my life I did. I meant it to warn her, to relate something of vital importance that she verra well ought to know, aye? But instead of thanking me for my honesty, Mrs. Garbett accused me of inviting his attentions. You’d no’ believe what they said!”
“You donna—”
“They claimed that I’ve long had a habit of walking and speaking and smiling that serves only to invite male attention, and for that reason, I was often left at home, for I couldna be trusted. I swear to you, Mr. Bain, I swear on my father’s grave, that I walk and I speak and I smile in the only manner I know how, and it is no’ to invite attention, it is to get from one place to the next.”
He silently arched a brow, uncertain if he was allowed yet to speak.
Apparently it was not yet his turn, for Miss Darby sighed, then drew a deep breath to launch once more.
Nichol guessed that she had not had the opportunity to say these things to anyone, and all her feelings about what had happened in Stirling were pouring forth.
“If that were all of it, I would find my peace with it, on my word, I would. But that was no’ all of it, oh no. The Cadells were guests for more than a fortnight, and Mr. Cadell could no’ be avoided. He sought me out at every opportunity, even though he was affianced to Sorcha. Mrs. Garbett said I purposely seduced him. No’ only did she accuse me, they cast me out, and then took the only thing of my family that belonged to me. I would have gladly returned the gowns that were passed down to me and kept with the two muslins Mr. Garbett commissioned for me, but they took my necklace. My necklace, my heritage. Left to me! Can you believe the gall of it? After all these years, after trying so desperately to stay in the shadows for the sake of Sorcha, and they took my necklace!”
Nichol hadn’t heard of any jewelry. “What necklace?”
“My necklace, my necklace!” she said impatiently, as if she’d explained this to him before. “It was a king’s gift to my great-grandmother, handed down to my mother and then to me. It’s quite valuable, but believe me when I say it’s worth canna compare to the sentimental value it holds for me, aye? It is the only thing I’ve left of my family, the only thing that ties me to my name.”
Something shuddered through Nichol. He understood better than this young woman could possibly imagine what it was to want to belong to a name. He understood how deeply unsettling it was to feel the snap of that thin thread. “This is the first I have heard of a necklace, Miss Darby. Had I known, I would have bargained to have it returned to you.”
“Och, but you would have lost that bargain,” she said sullenly. “The depravity there is surely beyond your ability to comprehend, Mr. Bain.”
“On the contrary, I comprehend quite well,” he said, and left it at that. It would be impossible to explain to her how or why he comprehended it as well as he did.
She twisted about so that she could view him fully and with unconcealed skepticism. “Donna tease me, Mr. Bain. You are no’ acquainted with me, and it will no’ be apparent to you that at present, I am in a very foul humor and likely will take offense. I canna even promise that I’ll no’ hit something quite hard.”
She seemed very serious indeed, and Nichol made an effort to keep any sort of smile from his face. “I’ve had an inkling to your state of mind,” he said, thinking that might be obvious, seeing as how she would not answer the door, then tried to keep him out by locking a window. “You’ve made it abundantly clear to all, then. I’d no’ tease you, Miss Darby. Mr. Cadell is a coward and a scoundrel. Desire that is not mutually shared between a gentleman and a lady is pointless and vulgar.”
She blinked, her gaze on his mouth, as if she didn’t believe he’d actually spoken those words.
“Unfortunately, what I believe doesna change your situation. I have endeavored to find a solution that suits you. No’ Mr. Garbett. You.”
She snorted and shook her head, and turned her glittering blue eyes away from him, and Nichol felt a tiny little flicker of regret that she had. “There is nothing that will suit me, Mr. Bain. My patience and accommodating nature are at an end!”
He didn’t think it his place to persuade her otherwise, and even if he’d been so inclined, he would not have the opportunity. Now that Miss Darby had been freed from the wretched conditions in Aberuthen and the Garbett house and, apparently, her silence, she had a long list of complaints.
“They forced me to leave all behind,” she said again. “It was vindictive. It hardly mattered that all these years I endeavored to be pleasing, to stay well in the shadows, to keep to my room. But Sorcha and her mother were determined to lay blame and hardship at my feet, they were. What would be the harm, I ask you, in bringing along my needlework?” she demanded, her voice full of anger once again. “It was only half finished, useless to all of them, aye? Och, I donna care, Mr. Bain, I donna. I will start anew.”
Nichol exchanged a look with Gavin, who seemed unduly wary, as he if he expected her to start anew here and now and somehow involve him in it. Nichol was glad he wasn’t called upon to assure the lad otherwise—she did seem quite determined.
Her list of complaints against the Garbetts went on for a good quarter hour more, at which point, Miss Darby seemed to have aired all her grievances and had lost her thirst for the airing. She seemed spent, taxed by the work of saying it all aloud, to have God and the world know how she’d been wronged.
She said no more until Nichol signaled Gavin that they would stop for the night, having decided they would not reach an inn before dark. He remembered a hollow they’d passed, where they could make camp, sheltered from wind. And it was on the banks of a creek so the horses could drink. He led them there.
It had stopped snowing, but the sky remained a dull slate gray turning to dark blue. Miss Darby did not hesitate to leap from her perch when Nichol reined to a halt, landing awkwardly on all fours, then disappearing into the woods. Gavin looked at Nichol with alarm, but Nichol shook his head. What would she do, run into dark woods with no place to go? She needed a moment of privacy, that was all.
Nichol was pulling the saddle from his horse when she returned to the small clearing. She looked with confusion at the saddle in his hands. “What are you doing, then?” she demanded.
“We’ll bed here for the night.”
“Here?”
“Aye, here,” he said. “It’s too dark to carry on, aye? I’ll no’ risk injury to one of the horses.”
She looked around her. “But we’re in the middle of nowhere!”
“That is no’ entirely accurate. We are between Aberuthen,” he said, pointing to the north, “and Crieff,” he said, pointing to the south. “No’ as much as a day’s ride to Stirling, aye?” he added, pointing in the direction of Stirling. “We are indeed somewhere, Miss Darby, and this is a good place to water and graze the horses.”
She gaped at him. Then at Gavin, who kept his head down and avoided her gaze. “Has my reputation been so irreparably damaged that you give no thought to it, sir? Am I to be humiliated further?”
“I mean to protect you, Miss Darby, no’ harm you. Necessity demands adaptation, and I rather doubt you will be thought of any less for having slept under a night sky than an inn’s roof.” He unfurled a bedroll and laid his plaid on top of it. He bowed, and gestured grandly to the pallet he’d made. “You may avail yourself of this accommodation.”
Miss