The Highlander's English Bride (The Lairds Most Likely 6)

"The master left you a note before he went, my lady."

Emily put down her roll and stared curiously at Polly. "Went?"

"Yes, he was off before first light. I’m surprised you didn’t hear him."

She’d been sleeping like the dead, but now she had a vague memory of activity in the house in the early hours. And it wasn’t like Hamish to leave her a note. He always assumed she had no interest in his comings and goings.

He was right. It was unfair to resent his presence, especially as he’d been marvelous in her father’s last few days, quick, competent, considerate, indefatigable. But when she looked at her handsome, lordly husband, all she could think was that her father, the only person in the world who had loved her, was gone.

Hamish came to represent a world that didn’t care a fig about her. That world would trundle on its merry way, with or without Sir John Baylor and his daughter Emily.

She’d felt awful last night, telling Hamish to go away, especially when he was trying so hard to help. But for the present, his absence was all she wanted from him.

She stretched out her hand. "Where is his letter?"

Polly fished in her pocket and pulled out a piece of paper, folded and sealed. "Here it is, my lady. Shall I pour your tea?"

"Yes, please." Emily broke the seal, telling herself there was no reason for the dread that settled like lead in the pit of her stomach.

She hardly noticed Polly fussing around her. All her attention was on Hamish’s letter.

Dear Emily,

I hate to see you so sunk in grief, and I apologize that I haven’t been any comfort in this

sad time. I should have guessed immediately that you found no solace in my presence. I had hoped that you’d gain some respite in knowing that I loved Sir John, too.

I appreciate your honesty in telling me that you’d rather be alone to mourn in private. I swore myself to your service when we wed. If the only service I can give you is to leave when you ask, that is what I will do.

I’m overdue to visit Glen Lyon, so if you need me, that’s where you can reach me. I’ve written to Mr. Pond and told him that I’m unable to take up my post as his assistant at the Royal Observatory because of family commitments. In the meantime, I have instructed Henry Parnell, my man of business, to advance any funds you need. I’ve left details of how to reach him on the desk in the library, as well as the direction of Glen Lyon if you wish to contact me.

I can imagine my departure so close to our wedding will cause more talk. That’s a pity, but can’t be helped. Your wellbeing is more important than any amount of gossip. If you tell people my presence was urgently required north of the border, with luck they should accept my absence as nothing out of the ordinary.

I know that you have banned me from apologizing, my dear wife. But as this is a parting that is likely to endure for the foreseeable future, I humbly beg your pardon for all my sins against you, large and small. I hope you can forgive me for making these difficult days since your father’s passing even more difficult than they needed to be.

With my sincerest respect and friendship – because despite your doubts, you have always had both,

Your husband, Hamish.

For a long while, Emily stared blank-eyed at the letter. Then she read it again to make sure she hadn’t misunderstood its meaning.

Dear God, Hamish had left her. After a mere matter of days as a bride, she was a deserted wife.

Hamish, I didn’t mean for you to leave me forever. I meant for you to go somewhere and grant me a few hours’ peace. You could have tried harder.

"He tried as much as anyone could," said a sniping little voice inside her head.

The truth was that he had. He’d reached a point where he saw no purpose in trying anymore.

"The master has gone to Scotland," Polly said cheerily.

"Yes." Emily wondered at the weight of sorrow swelling her heart. Especially when she thought her heart already brimmed with as much sorrow as it could hold.

"I’m sure he’ll be back soon, my lady. Since Sir John died, he’s been fair worried sick about you."

"Yes," Emily said, although she hadn’t noticed. Not really.

Grief was such a selfish emotion. As she struggled to come to terms with her loss, she’d hardly spared a thought for Hamish. Now she suffered a second loss, and one which cut much more deeply than she’d ever imagined it would.