Page 48 of Who’s That Earl

Without any show of resistance, she let him approach, his hands raised as if he intended to wrap them around her throat.

Chapter 18

Outside the church, Thomas scanned the scattered churchgoers who remained, clustered in knots of conversation. Jane was nowhere to be seen. Disappointment stabbed through him, though he knew he had no right to expect to find her eagerly waiting for him. He saw no sign of Mrs. Murdoch, either. Doubtless they had decided to walk home together.

The same sharp gaze that had scoured the Caribbean Sea looking for danger passed once more over the people of Balisaig: a handful of sturdy farmers and their ruddy-cheeked families, a bespectacled man whom he took for the apothecary, the frail clergyman. Ridiculous, really, to imagine Jane had anything to fear here.

A hand settled on his shoulder. “You’ll come and greet Mama,” Theo Campbell said, and as it was not a question, Thomas made no answer except to turn in the direction of the blacksmith’s forge, past the charming stone manse.

“How does she get on?” Thomas asked as they walked.

Mrs. Campbell had been a widow all the years he had known her, and he had wondered from time to time why she hadn’t remarried, for he knew she had had offers. Still, he admired her loyalty to the husband with whom she had fled New York after the rebellion in the colonies. Like other free Blacks, most of whom had remained loyal to the Crown, they’d been uncertain about their future liberty when the colonists unexpectedly won the war. So they had accepted the British army’s offer to escort them to a new settlement in Canada.

After the first winter, nearly overwhelmed by the desolation of Nova Scotia, they had heeded the advice of a passing Scottish fur trader to make their way to Britain when they could. The Scotsman had spoken so warmly of his childhood in the Highlands, the young couple had eventually made it their home too. Theo had been born here, and Mr. Campbell lay in its kirkyard, having taken his leave from this world too soon after his only child’s entry into it.

“Well enough,” said Theo, an echo of Ross’s claim. But much like yesterday, Thomas heard worry in the other man’s voice, as well as a measure of stubbornness. “Her rheumatism flares up in the winter, so she doesn’t get out as much as she’d like. ’Twill be easier for her once Davina and I can wed.”

He had seen Theo speaking to a young woman after services but had not recognized in her the girl he’d once known. Years ago, she had sported stiff braids and freckles and had taken her chief delight in tattling on her older brother. “Davina Ross?”

Theo regarded him seriously for a moment before a wide grin split his dark brown face. “Aye.”

It was easy enough to guess what Davina saw in Theo, whose strength of body—his broad shoulders threatened every minute to overstrain the seams of his coat—now matched his strength of character. When they’d been mischief-making lads together, Theo had always managed to steer Thomas and Ross away from real trouble, though he was the youngest of the three and had not yet developed biceps that might have been hewn from stone.

“What’s stopping you?” Thomas demanded. “Not Ross, I hope.” He knew it must be a complicated matter for a man to see his sister marry his best friend. Hadn’t Ross tried to tell him just yesterday that Theo enjoyed stringing the lassies along?

“Och, Ross’ll be all right once he finally makes up his mind to marry Elspeth,” he said. “Anyway, Davina says it’s bad luck to marry before the heather’s in bloom.” But even as he offered those simple explanations, he glanced over his shoulder, toward the church.

Did the new clergyman have aught to do with the delay?

The question remained unasked, as at that same moment they arrived on the Campbell family’s doorstep. In the main room, they found Mrs. Campbell dozing before a roaring fire, a colorful quilt draped over her legs.

“I’ve brought you a visitor, Mama,” Theo said, bending to kiss her cheek.

“Not that Mr. Donaldson, I hope.” She roused herself and looked sharply around the room.

When her eyes landed on Thomas, he bowed and came forward. “Thomas Sutherland, ma’am,” he said, though he could tell even before the words were out that she needed no prompting to remember him. “How wonderful to see you again.”

She favored him with a playful frown and tapped her other cheek. “If that’s so, Tommy, then where’s my kiss?” When he obliged her, she caught his hands in hers and held him at arm’s length for an inspection. “I see from that uniform you’ve tried to make something of yourself.”

“Aye, ma’am. With limited success.”

“You needed my Theo and Eleazor Ross to watch out for you, as it used to be.”

He shot his friend a look. “They have been sorely missed.”

But how could he possibly tell any of them the truth? Once his real reason for returning to Balisaig was known, there would surely be an end of playful jabs and back-slapping hugs...although he would not put it past Mrs. Campbell to chide even an earl.

She urged him to take the seat opposite, close enough to the fire that it was almost too warm even for his thin blood. Theo dragged a wooden chair away from the table. Though the family did all its living in that small room, with its whitewashed walls and simple furnishings, all was neat as a pin.

A dozen years ago, the blacksmith’s forge had been cold and the house adjacent to it little more than a shack. When or how Theo had stepped into the post and turned the tumbledown house into a home, Thomas did not know. That he had succeeded no one could have any doubt, though Thomas could easily believe Theo would not be satisfied with his achievements until Davina shared them.

“And have you seen the Shaws?” Mrs. Campbell asked, plucking at a knot on her quilt with knobby fingers.

“At church, yes.”

“Young Edward is worse even than you were, Tommy,” she pronounced with a shake of her head.

“Impossible.” Thomas laughed. “It must only seem that way. He has all the year to make his mischief in Balisaig, while I had only a few weeks. I had to work harder at it.”