Page 5 of To Winter at Wildsyde

“Five,” he said and then yawned, scrubbing a hand over his bristly jaw.

The rasp of his whiskers set her all on edge and her temper ratcheted up another notch as she waited for him to elaborate. He did not.

“Only five?” She frowned at him. “Surely, a property of the size you’ve indicated….”

He favoured her with a look of scornful impatience.

“Did ye forget already, lass? I’ve nae a brass farthing, as the wee hellion told ye plain enough. ’Twas nae a falsehood.”

Ruth nodded her understanding.

“Tell me about them, please,” she asked, and got only an irritated sigh in response. “What are their names and their duties?” she demanded, the words bitten off as she fought to keep her frustration at bay.

“I’ll introduce ye,” he said. “Ye’ll meet them soon enough.”

He stretched, yawning again and lifting his arms to the ceiling, extending his limbs as best he could in the confined space. Ruth stared, captivated momentarily by the shift of muscle beneath his clothing before she caught the amused glint in his eyes. Gritting her teeth, she glared at him.

“I would like to learn their names and duties before I arrive.”

She held his gaze, realising how imperious she sounded as one dark eyebrow lifted just a fraction. He’d better get used to it if he was going to ignore her. If he thought to test her, to see how far she would bend to his will or how she’d respond to such treatment he’d not discover a biddable little mouse for a wife. He’d gained fifty thousand in taking her, but she would make him earn it.

He gave her a long, considering look before he replied. “Hilda MacLeod is housekeeper and cook. Dougal Clugston is the estate manager. There are three maids: Sheenagh Baillie, Flora Moffat, and Jessie Irwin.”

Ruth nodded. “I shall need to hire more staff.”

“That’s yer own affair,” he said, and crossed his arms once more, closing his eyes.

Damn him, he was going back to sleep.

“Will you invite anyone to the wedding. Your family, perhaps?”

“Na.”

“Why not?”

No answer.

“Why not, Mr Anderson?”

Silence.

“Why, Miss Stone,” Ruth said, adopting a conversational tone. “Because my kin are loud and talkative, and I fear you’ll not get a word in edgeways. Why, Mr Anderson,” she continued, deciding she may as well carry on both sides of the conversation. “How thoughtful you are. Shall we take a honeymoon, do you think?” She paused and cleared her throat, attempting to imitate his thick Scottish brogue. “Nae, lass. I’ll be too busy spending yer blunt, but ye may sleep with the beasts while I make the castle fit for ye.”

Ruth thought perhaps his lips twitched but otherwise he made no sign of having heard her.

“Why, Mr Anderson,” she said with a breathy sigh, holding a hand to her heart in the manner of a swooning maiden. “How lucky I am to have married such a man. “Aye, lass,” she said, lowering her voice and giving a sharp nod. “Ye are indeed. I am a paragon among Scotsmen.” Ruth fluttered her eyelashes at the motionless male opposite her. “I’m so relieved,” she said, adopting a simpering tone. “For I was sore afraid I had agreed to wed a mannerless brute without a civilised bone in his body.”

She stilled as one tawny eye cracked open, glinting in the dim light of the late afternoon. Heat flared in her cheeks under his scrutiny as she waited, for what she wasn’t sure. Fury? Amusement? For one excruciating moment, she wondered if he’d put her over his knee. Then he grunted, closed his eyes, and went back to sleep.

Chapter 3

Dear Papa,

We expect to arrive at Wildsyde Castle tomorrow afternoon. The journey has been long and fatiguing and I confess I shall be glad to sit still. Many of the roads have been in poor repair and I feel my bones still jolting and swaying as I try to sleep at night. The weather has not been entirely kind either but tomorrow looks to be better. Perhaps I will see the castle for the first time in sunshine. I shall write more and describe it in detail as you asked me to once I have settled in.

― Excerpt of a letter from Miss Ruth Stone, to her father, Mr George Stone.

6th November 1814. Wildsyde Castle, Scotland.