The Scottish Bride (Sherbrooke Brides 6)

“You’re always telling Mama how beautiful she is,” Jason said.

“Your mother is very special, Jason. Her insides are just as beautiful as her outsides.”

“I’ll go tell James, Papa. Maybe our new aunt won’t be able to tell me and James apart and we can pretend to be each other and gather information.”

“I request that you don’t.”

But he knew that Jason was already coming up with scenarios that would make Douglas’s head ache. They would drive the poor woman distracted, pretending to be each other.

“Can we play chess a bit later? A new aunt—maybe she’ll have presents for us.”

“Greedy little beggar.” After his son left the estate room, likely to wander with his twin in the Northcliffe gardens and ogle all the naked statues, Douglas rose and went to look for his wife, to give her the news.

He found her in the music room, practicing her new harpsichord. She was endeavoring to get through a Scarlatti sonata that had a goodly number of high, tinkly notes. It was to be played very fast, and she was trying, but the result was regrettable. She played with verve, however, just as she did everything. He rubbed her shoulders lightly, then leaned down to kiss her ear, then her nose, and then her mouth. She turned on the bench, her hands closed around his back, and she rubbed her cheek against his shirt. “Ah, bless you, Douglas. I was ruining my ears.” Alex sighed. “It isn’t very easy.”

It wouldn’t have occurred to him not to lie cleanly and quickly, and so he did. “It was wonderful, Alex,” he said, kissed her again, and added, “I will just give you a little respite. Read this letter from Tysen.”

“Oh, dear,” Alex said, blinking several times, when she finished the letter. “Goodness, she has two names, just like Melinda Beatrice. Do you think she has no bosom either?”

Douglas laughed and laughed. He remembered how Ryder had said that no girl should have two names and no bosom. Well, Tysen had married another girl with two names. He wondered if Ryder had received a letter yet and if he was thinking about his new sister-in-law and the rather astounding change in Tysen.

Chadwyck House

Between Lower Slaughter and Mortimer Coombe

The Cotswolds

Ryder Sherbrooke had one little boy tugging on his left arm, another little boy clinging to his right leg, and a little girl with her legs locked around his middle, laughing in his ear, her skinny arms clasped around his neck. He was laughing himself, even as he tried to free just one hand. “Don’t strangle me, Linnie. I must read this letter. It was just delivered, and it’s from your uncle Tysen. I don’t like letters delivered like that, it usually means something is wrong. All of you need to let me go for just a minute. That’s right, I’ll be a prisoner again, just let me sit down first.”

Ryder sat down in a very large chair, made exactly to his specifications. It fit one adult and at least three small children or two larger children. “And,” he’d said to his wife, Sophie, rubbing his hands together, “I’ll even be able to hold one of the very little ones as well.”

Ryder smoothed out the piece of foolscap and let the children gather in close. As he read, he was stroking little Theo’s arm, nearly healed now.

Dear Ryder:

I am writing to tell you that I have brought a wife home with me from Scotland. Her name is Mary Rose and she is lovely. When I left Kildrummy Castle, Oliver was dancing about, exclaiming over everything he saw, so excited that he could barely speak. He sends his love and tells you that he will do just fine as my manager there. Many things happened—I dealt with the strangest people—but all worked out, and I did gain a wife, who, to be perfectly honest about it, is adorable. She fills me with pleasure. My love to all your children. You will meet my Mary Rose soon.

Your brother Tysen

“By all that’s amazing,” Ryder said slowly, staring over Linnie’s head at nothing at all, unable for the moment to believe what he’d just read. “This is something indeed. No, don’t any of you worry, it’s not bad news. It’s incredible news, actually. It appears that perhaps my dour, righteous brother has changed a bit. Maybe more than a bit. Hmmm, we’ll have to see.

“Now, Theo, I saw you frowning just a moment ago. Does your arm pain you? No? Good. Linnie, my shoul-der’s a bit numb. As for you, Ned, you may just stay right where you are and hug me as tightly as you want.”

“What is it, Uncle Ryder?” Linnie crawled closer and plastered herself to his side. As for Theo and Ned, they were each sitting next to him, each pressing against part of him, each touching him, from his neck to his knee. Now that he’d finished the letter, they moved even closer, something that was always possible even when you’d wager it wasn’t. He’d learned there was always more room for a child, he’d learned that wondrous fact many years before. He hugged them all, leaned his head back, and closed his eyes. They were still so afraid, he thought, afraid that they would suddenly find themselves back in the hells where he’d found them, afraid they’d feel pain again, the humiliation and helplessness, the god-awful hunger that had shrunk all their small bellies. He felt the pain deep inside him, and rage, knew he would feel it until he died. He realized how very lucky he was to have them, and he smiled at them, patted them, and stroked their small faces. They would get better. They would learn to trust. He had ha

d few failures over the years, thank God. And they would learn that they would be loved forever. He felt Linnie snuggle up under his armpit. He dropped the letter to the floor and gathered them all even closer to him in that big chair.

“Do tell us, Uncle Ryder, who writted to you?” Theo was very young and had learned to talk from a gin-soaked thief in the back alleys near the docks in London. But he’d improved tremendously in the four months he had been here, and his arm, finally, was mending well. Ryder said easily, “It was a letter from one of my brothers. He’s your uncle Tysen. You met him, Theo, do you remember, just after I brought you here? Just at the beginning of summer? He is the vicar and he brought his three children.”

“Meggie taught me how to climb a tree,” Linnie said. “I fell on her, but she just laughed. She showed me how to hit a boy, too, so he’d really hurt.”

“Maybe I don’t want to hear any more about that,” Ryder said.

Linnie said, “Meggie told us not to bother her papa, that he had very serious thoughts in his head, and that those serious thoughts occupied all of his time. She said he needed her close to protect him because he was so very unworldly.”

She knew her father very well indeed. Ryder smiled, imagining Meggie’s precious little face as she’d said that. He said now, “He had very serious thoughts for many, many years. But now? A new wife? I wonder what has happened to Tysen? I wonder what Meggie thinks of her?”

“Leo taught us how to race,” Ned said, “around the big oak tree, jumping over the yew hedges, and around the pond back to the house. Leo taught the winner how to flip over backwards.”