The Richness of Love Page 7

  “Ah, here is our new passenger,” said Stuart.

  Walking along the narrow path that led to the jetty, Moira could see a slight figure in a dark cloak and hat walking towards them.

  Moira took in his thin face and thick sideburns. The man’s nose was large, almost too large for his face and his complexion ruddy. As he drew closer, she could detect the odour of cigars and strong drink.

  “Lady Moira, this is Angus MacKinnon. Angus, Lady Moira Strathcarron and her brother, Lord Ewen, are fellow passengers on our journey South.”

  Angus MacKinnon’s eyes raked over Moira from head to toe, undressing her as he took in every detail. Moira felt quite sick as she flushed under his gaze.

  “Delighted to meet you.”

  Angus spoke in the refined tones of Morningside that were so familiar to her, but she did not care at all for his manner. In fact, she took an instant dislike to the unctuous fellow. She thought his stare lascivious and not at all polite or respectful.

  ‘This is one fellow I must not encourage. I shall have to strike him off my list of potential husbands immediately.’

  Angus was, however, not deterred by Moira’s cool demeanour.

  “I can see that I shall enjoy the journey all the more in your fine company, Lady Moira,” began Angus, moving a little nearer to her.

  Moira shuddered and stepped away from him. She fervently wished that her brother would make haste back to the ship.

  “Ah, there is Ewen.” Stuart was beaming as Ewen sprang up the gangway.

  “Ewen, I would like you to meet your fellow passenger, Angus MacKinnon.”

  Ewen grasped Angus’s outstretched hand and shook it warmly. Moira could tell by his flushed countenance that he had indeed availed himself of the hospitality of a local tavern, if not two.

  The two men were now talking together animatedly. It appeared that they had an acquaintance in common from Stirling.

  “You must pay us a visit at Lednock Castle next time you’re in those parts,” Ewen was saying, much to Moira’s horror. “Loch Earn is only a few hours by coach away from Stirling. Father’s lawyer is in Stirling – do you ken William Clooney?”

  “Yes, I do,” replied Angus, still casting lecherous looks in Moira’s direction.

  ‘Why does Ewen not reprimand him for looking at me in such a disrespectful manner?’ thought Moira, angrily. ‘He does not notice as he is seeing everything through the bottom of a whisky glass.’

  “I hope you will do me the honour of sitting next to me at dinner.”

  Moira realised with a start that Angus was addressing her. She had been so lost in her thoughts that she had not been paying attention to the conversation.

  “With so few guests for dinner, we will all be sitting next to each other,” she answered, coldly.

  But in spite of her chilly demeanour, Angus seemed quite undeterred. He continued to pay her compliments of the kind that she found most unwelcome.

  “You are a fine looking woman, Lady Moira,” said Angus, as they proceeded along the deck to the Saloon where Stuart had invited them all to take tea together.

  The daylight had now faded and through the Saloon window, Moira could see the moon starting to rise in the sky.

  They all chatted together for a while and drank tea and then Stuart announced that he must return to the bridge as the crew was ready to set sail.

  “I am afraid that I will not be joining you for dinner tonight,” he added as he was about to leave. “We will be sailing through dangerous waters and I am required on the bridge as I know the way very well. But please, do enjoy dinner.”

  Moira felt terribly disappointed – dining with Stuart would be the highlight of her day and she did not wish to have this awful MacKinnon fellow to spoil her meal.

  As she had anticipated dinner was a strain. Angus talked animatedly all through the meal and she quite lost her appetite, pushing the roast beef around her plate in a disinterested fashion.

  After the meal was finished, she quickly excused herself,

  “I do apologise but I am quite tired out. I think I shall retire to my cabin.”

  “I will see you to your door,” offered Ewen, rising from the table.

  As they walked towards her cabin, Moira asked Ewen what he thought of their new passenger.

  “He seems a decent fellow,” replied Ewen, much to her horror. “He has invited me to play cards with him and to partake in a bottle of single Islay malt.”

  “Ewen, I do not care for him at all. He is I cannot describe what makes me feel so uneasy about him, but I would not trust him.”

  “You are tired, Moira, and don’t worry, I do not intend to get drunk tonight. I have had enough for one day.”

  He kissed his sister on the cheek and made his way back up on deck.

  Moira could hear laughter quite late into the night. She tossed and turned and finally fell into a fitful sleep.

  Around midnight, she awoke with a start, her heart beating wildly – there was someone banging on her cabin door!

  She hesitated before getting up – if it was Ewen, he would have called out by now and identified himself. And Stuart would not be so ungentlemanly as to knock on her door at this late hour. It was quite clear that there was no emergency and it could only be one other person – Angus MacKinnon.

  Moira lay on the bed, her heart in her mouth as the knocking became persistent.

  ‘Should I open the door or shall I ignore it?’ she considered. ‘If the ship is sinking, then the alarms would have sounded.’

  Even so, she felt sick to her stomach. It could only be Angus.

  Finally, after knocking for nearly ten minutes, she heard footsteps die away down the corridor.

  ‘Thank Heavens his cabin is at the other end of the ship,’ she sighed to herself as she moistened a handkerchief to mop her forehead. Her heart was beating so wildly she feared that she might faint.

  ‘I shall tell Ewen tomorrow that his new friend is not to be encouraged.’

  *

  Because of her ordeal, Moira slept until well after nine. She awoke with a start, hearing nine bells clanging from the bridge.

  She dressed hastily knowing that she would have missed Stuart for breakfast, as it was his habit to eat his early.

  As she hurried towards the Saloon she could see Ewen coming towards her. His face was the colour of ash and he looked a little sick to say the least.

  “Good morning, Moira,” he called holding his head. “I fear I could not stomach breakfast this morning. I was up late playing cards with Angus. A fine fellow indeed.”

  Moira could not believe her ears – a fine fellow?

  ‘Shall I tell him what happened last night?’ she wondered before deciding that Ewen was not in a fit state. ‘I will tell him later when he is feeling better.’

  “Now, I am off to lie down a wee while. Will I see you later?”

  “Yes, Ewen,” Moira stroked her brother’s brow. It was clammy and burning.

  “You must drink plenty of liquid it will flush out the impurities.”

  “Aye,” he muttered still holding his head. “I may have to take a powder.”

  Moira entered the Saloon to find it quite deserted. The usual fine spread lay upon the buffet table and there were hot rolls and coffee.

  But her peace was soon shattered. For no sooner had she begun to eat her eggs than in walked Angus, grinning superciliously at her.

  “Ah, good morning, my dear.”

  Moira recoiled in horror.

  How dare he address her in such a familiar manner? She suddenly wished that she had already finished her meal and could excuse herself.

  ‘I cannot bring myself to speak to him,’ she thought, so she simply nodded.

  His appearance had quite made her lose her appetite and she lost interest in her plate of eggs.

  “I came calling last night to speak to you, but you did not answer the door,” he began and then seeing her look of horror, started to laugh.

  “I was only be
ing friendly, Lady Moira.”

  Moira could bear it no longer. She stood up from the table and was about to run from the room, when Ewen walked in unexpectedly.

  “Finished so soon?” he asked, as she ran past him.

  “I fear your sister is unwell this morning,” smirked Angus. “I do believe that she did not sleep well last night.”

  “She was not the only one,” answered Ewen, “my throat is near parched.”

  Meanwhile, Moira was standing outside overhearing the conversation.

  ‘The impertinence of the man,’ she fumed, as she heard him explain away her sudden disappearance.

  She debated if she should tell Ewen what had happened, but perhaps he would think that she had encouraged the man. She went over and over in her head every detail from the first moment they were introduced but try as she might, she could not find any evidence of having shown any signs of interest in him quite the contrary.

  Even so, she decided not to inform Ewen, as she did not want to cast a pall on their voyage.

  ‘I must resolve to be more wary around that man,’ she decided, as she made her way to the safety of her cabin.

  *

  But she could not stay there all day the sun was shining brilliantly outside and she soon became in need of some fresh air.

  ‘I refuse to hide like a trapped fox in a hole,’ she told herself firmly, as she picked up her cloak and wound it around her. It was cold outside even though fine and the North Sea breeze was a real bone-chiller.

  Up on deck, Moira enjoyed the salt spray in her face and the strong air. She paced up and down the deck awhile before noticing that Stuart was on the bridge.

  ‘I have a fancy for some decent company,’ she thought rebelliously, ‘and there is no harm in mere conversation.’

  Stuart bowed as Moira entered the bridge.

  “Why, this is a pleasant surprise, Lady Moira,” he said, smiling at her.

  “I feel the need of some company. Would I be disturbing you if I stayed?”

  “Of course not. We have passed the most dangerous part of the coast now and it should be easy from here. At least until we reach the Wash.”

  Moira noticed that Stuart was holding a book on botany. He held it close to his chest as if seeking to hide it.

  “I have read that same book myself,” said Moira, pointing to the tome, “most fascinating. Some of the Indochinese plants are wonderful so exotic.”

  Now it was Stuart’s turn to blush. He looked flustered and then placed the book down on a nearby ledge.

  “I studied botany at Stirling University,” he confessed. “I have always been interested in flora and fauna – thus why I made for your vegetable garden the day we first met. I was destined for a career travelling the Far East to collect specimens for the Botanical Gardens in Glasgow and then I caught the sailing bug. I confess that, like so many young men, the call of the sea proved stronger.”

  “But surely you could have combined the two?” enquired Moira, intrigued.

  “Sadly, botany is a rich man’s hobby and I do not have the means.”

  Moira winced – she did not need reminding of his lack of finance as it was all that stood between him and the altar as far as she was concerned.

  They talked at length on the subject until Moira felt she should take her leave.

  “I am distracting you,” she said, as he protested, “and I have some needlework in my cabin that I need to finish.”

  “Very well, but I have thoroughly enjoyed our talk. Nevertheless, I would ask you one favour.”

  “Of course,” replied Moira, intrigued further.

  Once again she was astonished to see Stuart blush.

  “I would ask that you do not discuss my little vice with your brother or Angus. They would not deem it manly.”

  Moira wanted to rush over to him and kiss his full red lips. Her heart was overflowing with tenderness, in spite of her resolution to the contrary.

  ‘If only Stuart was rich,’ she thought sadly as she left the bridge. She cast one longing look backwards and then steeled herself. ‘No, I must be firm. I must expunge any feelings I have for him and treat him as I would a brother.’

  Hurriedly she walked along the deck with her head bent against the wind. It had changed direction and was blowing hard enough to make walking difficult.

  The ship began to roll heavily and as she stumbled along, she lost her footing and fell straight into a man who was standing nearby.

  She smelt whisky and tobacco and immediately assumed she had landed on Ewen.

  Suddenly Moira realised in horror that it was Angus MacKinnon.

  As she fell, he grabbed hold of her and refused to let her go.

  “Not so proud now, Lady Moira,” he snarled, pressing her close to him.

  “Let me go,” she pleaded.

  “There is a word for women like you – you are nothing but a tease!”

  Moira recoiled from his foul breath. Even though he was barely an inch taller than her, he was incredibly strong for his size. His mouth was just inches away from hers, as Moira tried to twist her head away.

  “You flirted with me at dinner and gave me the impression that you would welcome a visit from me later in the evening,” he snorted, his eyes bulging.

  “I did nothing of the sort,” asserted Moira, wriggling free at last. “You are twisted beyond words if you think that my curtness was an invitation to disturb me in a most ungentlemanly fashion.”

  Angus’s eyes narrowed and he made as if to lunge at her.

  Just then, one of the crewmen appeared at Moira’s side.

  “My Lady, are you all right?” he asked, the wind blowing so hard she could barely make out what he was saying to her.

  “Yes, yes,” she replied, thankful that someone had come to her aid.

  “Begging your pardon, my Lady, but your brother wishes to see you below decks. He has been seasick and wishes you to go to him.”

  “Will you please accompany me?” Moira asked him, nervously.

  The sailor had quickly got the measure of what was happening and nodded, gently taking Moira by the arm.

  “Aye, gladly, my Lady.”

  As she turned around to leave, she could have sworn that she heard Angus saying something, his hissing voice swept away by the wind.

  “I have not finished with you yet, Moira!”

  Shaking, Moira was glad of the burly sailor’s company to her brother’s cabin where she found Ewen lying on his bunk, pale and wan.

  “Well, this is a fine thing. My wee sister has found her sea legs while her big brother lies in bed like a sickly bairn.”

  “Ewen, there is something I must tell you.”

  Her brother looked closely at her pale face and realised that something untoward had happened.

  “What is it? Have you been ill too?”

  “No, Ewen, it is MacKinnon. He has paid unwelcome attention to me – and then became violent when I tried to fend him off.”

  “Are you sure you didn’t misunderstand him, Moira? I cannot believe that he would show you such little respect.”

  Moira pulled back her cloak and pushed up the sleeve of her bodice. There on her arm was a clear set of handprints, still angry and smarting.

  Ewen stared in horror.

  “He – did – this?”

  She could not help herself as tears sprang into her eyes.

  “Yes, he did. And he threatened me that worse was to follow. Ewen, I do not understand what I have done. I have not encouraged the man, I swear it.”

  “Ill or not, I cannot allow my sister to be compromised. We will go straight away to Kelpie and inform him.”

  “Ewen, I don’t want you to make a fuss if you are not well enough – ”

  He pulled back the covers determinedly and got up.

  “It’s strange. He seemed such a decent fellow too,” he commented, as they made their way above deck. “I was deceived and I don’t like to be made to look a fool.”

  Within minutes, Ewe
n was on the bridge telling Stuart everything about their fellow traveller’s shocking behaviour.

  Stuart listened and then grew silent. He called to the second mate and ordered him to turn the ship around and make for Lowestoft.

  “Why are we heading there?” asked Moira, trembling.

  “I will not have a seducer aboard my ship,” Stuart replied quietly, yet full of simmering rage. “If the sister of my friend is not safe from this man’s unwelcome attentions, then it is my duty to eject him at the earliest opportunity.”

  “But we are going off course,” she protested.

  Stuart looked deep into her eyes – his expression intense and full of quiet fire.

  “I do not care if it means that you can sleep safe in your cabin. No, the man has committed a gross impropriety – he must leave as soon as we reach shore.”

  Moira and Ewen took their leave and retired to the Saloon.

  “Well, I did not expect Stuart to react so,” she exclaimed.

  “It does not surprise me as he is a man of principle. His sister was ravished by an unscrupulous rogue and he hates male aggression in any form.”

  “I am most grateful to him. I had not expected him to take such prompt action.”

  “He is fond of you, Moira. But don’t go getting any silly, romantic ideas about him. He hasn’t two farthings to his name.”

  Ewen looked sternly at his sister as she turned away.

  “I am quite mindful of our mission, brother.”

  ‘He must have said something to Ewen about me,’ she thought joyously and then checked herself immediately. ‘But I must not dwell on it. Stuart regards me as a sister. Of that I have no doubt.’

  *

  True to his word, Stuart had Angus MacKinnon ejected the moment they reached Lowestoft. The crew threw his suitcase off the gangway onto the quayside below.

  Stuart ordered the ship to make sail straight away as the tide was still favourable.

  Later that evening before dinner, he called Moira to the Saloon.

  She found him, standing erect, his face shining and dressed in his kilt.

  “Lady Moira,” he started, as soon as she set foot inside the room, “I cannot apologise enough. Can you forgive me for being such a poor judge of character? I had no idea that Angus would turn out to be such a cad.”