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Authors: Liz Curtis Higgs

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“Leana McBride, you are hereby required to
compear
on the stool of repentance in sackcloth, barefoot and bareheaded, for three consecutive Sundays beginning this coming Sabbath, as befits your grievous sin.”

Stunned, she clung to Jamie’s hand.
The cutty stool
. Not even as a child, playing between services, did she go near the hated stool. ’Twas for wicked people.
Reprobates
her father called them. Sinners.

Now the stool was for her.

My punishment is greater than I can bear
. The words of Cain.
My words
.

Jamie’s hand squeezed hers so tightly she feared he might crush her bones.

The minister spoke again. “Any conjugal rights and privileges between James McKie and Leana McBride are now severed.”

Nae
. She could no longer look at him, for the pain was too great.
Oh, Jamie. Never to hold you. Never to touch you. Never to kiss you
. ’Twas the harshest punishment of all, the very worst.

Reverend Gordon pressed on, as though he were reading an announcement at the start of services. “Lachlan, you are to see they reside in separate rooms from henceforth. James, your marriage is to be consummated on Saturday, 27 March, following a second reading of your marriage banns each Sunday that Leana appears on the stool.”

Rose spoke up. “If Jamie and I are already wed, what use can the banns be?”

Mr. Millar hastened to reply. “The banns allow persons to come forth who would dispute a claim of marriage. Considering all that has transpired in this case, we thought the idea prudent.” The session clerk consulted his book, then turned to Lachlan, who’d sat through the proceedings sullen and silent. “There is also a fine of thirty shillings of silver to be paid without delay. That responsibility falls on the one who is legally responsible for the party. As Leana McBride is unwed and living under your roof, sir, the debt falls to you.”

Lachlan reached into his waistcoat and produced a calfskin bag,
heavy with coin. When he tossed it on the table, the bag landed with a mighty crash, startling the poor schoolmaster. Lachlan’s voice was as cold as his silver. “ ’Tis always a costly thing to sit before the session.”

Reverend Gordon ignored the purse, but not the man. “Mr. McBride, as the only witness in this room who heard your testimony on 5 January 1789, I must confess that the truth revealed this night has little resemblance to the story I heard you tell last year. However, as no written record exists of your testimony, such discrepancies cannot be counted against you, nor may any punishment be levied.”

“ ’Tis just as well, Reverend.” Lachlan pinned his hard gaze on Leana, disgust written across his features. “I have a
howre
for a daughter. That is punishment enough.”

She bowed her head and bowed her heart.
Deliver me, O my God, out of the hand of the wicked, out of the hand of the unrighteous and cruel man
. The thought of living beneath her father’s roof, suffering beneath his judgment for the rest of her life was beyond bearing.
Deliver me, O my God
.

The minister gestured in her direction with his papers. “Now to the matter of Ian.”

Ian
. Leana’s heart stopped.

“ ’Tis Mr. McKie’s decision whether or not the lad is to be recognized as his rightful heir or considered a bystart.”

Jamie’s voice rang out like a bell. “Ian James McKie is my legal heir and my only heir.” He shot a pointed look at the session clerk. “See that my claim is duly recorded.”

Leana smiled at him through her tears.
Such a good father
. Jamie’s claim on their son meant she would always be a small part of Jamie’s life as well.

“On the subject of Ian,” Lachlan said, “I will
not
claim him as my grandson nor name him as heir to Auchengray.” His manner was indifferent, as though the child was of little consequence and only the property mattered. “As I have no sons, ’Tis my legal right to choose my heir.” He pointed a thick finger at the clerk. “You will record
that
in the minutes of this kirk session meeting as well.”

Leana was almost relieved. The less her father had to do with Ian, the better. She would raise him herself, in their own corner of the house, knowing Jamie was not far away.
My sweet boy, my dear Ian
.

“Very well,” Reverend Gordon agreed, though ’twas plain Lachlan’s callous decision did not sit well with him. “Our greater concern for the child is not his future inheritance but his present moral upbringing.”

“Aye,” Leana sighed. She could not agree more.

“It is our wish to see Ian McKie reared in a devout and pious home, free from … ah, improper influences.”

A sharp intake of breath.
He means me. I am improper
.

“Therefore, the sole responsibility of caring for the boy will fall to his father, James McKie, and to his stepmother, Rose McKie.”

Nae!

Leana nearly fainted before Jamie grasped her arm. “Gentlemen, Leana is the child’s
mother
. You cannot do this to her.”

She tried to breathe. “
Please …
” It came out on a sob. “Please … don’t take … my son …”

“I am sorry,” the clerk said, sounding as though he meant it.

“Please,” she moaned, “you cannot do this. Ian is … my only … Ian is …”

“Look at her!” Jamie lunged to his feet, pulling her up with him. “Can’t you see what you are doing to my … to this good woman? Isn’t the cutty stool punishment enough? How much must she endure for the sin of loving me?”

Oh, Jamie
. She struggled like one climbing out of a deep well, clinging to Jamie’s arm, as if ’twere a rope thrown down into the darkness to save her. Without Jamie, she would drown. Without Ian, she would not fight the water’s pull.

Reverend Gordon called the room to order, for in every corner were murmurings and anxious faces. He stretched a calming hand toward Jamie. “Come now, Mr. McKie, there is no need for this outburst. You will all live under the same roof, at least for the moment.” The minister nodded at his elders. “No one here is without sympathy for your situation. We are merely concerned with your son’s welfare, as you should be.”

“I am the child’s father,” Jamie said in a voice that demanded to be
heard. “And Leana is his mother. No one is more concerned with Ian’s welfare than we are.”

Reverend Gordon waved his hand in acknowledgment. “Aye, aye, we can see that you are.” Checking his notes once more, then folding them in half, the minister explained, “Leana may continue to serve as the child’s wet nurse.”


What?
” Jamie spoke on her behalf, for Leana could not speak at all.

“However,” the reverend amended, “come the twenty-seventh of March the child must be weaned from his mother and released to the McKies.”

“You cannot mean that!” Jamie roared, leaning halfway across the table. “Is there some purpose for this cruelty? I thought you were concerned for the health of my son. Would you deprive him of what he needs most?”

“Now who is being unkind?” Reverend Gordon countered. “To ask Leana to continue to nurse a child that is no longer her own would be merciless. Nae, ’Tis best to be finished on the twenty-seventh.” He waved his hand about. “There are wet nurses to be found throughout our parish, Jamie. You and Rose will have no difficulty there. But ’twould be unreasonable to expect Leana to serve in so menial a role.”

Instead I will have no role at all
. Leana drew her arms about her bodice, praying her milk would wait until Ian was in her arms. “The hour grows late. Are you … finished with me?”

Reverend Gordon exchanged glances with the other elders. “Aye. Though the kirk session will continue for a few moments longer, you are free to go.” His gaze, now directed toward her alone, grew stern. “I will meet you on the Sabbath at the kirk door. Before the first bell.”

“I will not forget.” Leana rose and fled from the room.

Forty-Five

Both man and womankind belie their nature
When they are not kind.

P
HILIP
J
AMES
B
AILEY

R
ose tarried outside the nursery door, listening for Leana’s soft voice or Ian’s high-pitched cooing. All was quiet within. The door was already ajar; one slight push allowed Rose to slip past with no one the wiser. She eased the door back in place, then discovered the room was not empty after all. Leana and Ian were catching a late-morning nap.

The wheeled
hurlie
bed had been moved from the servants’ floor into Ian’s cramped room yestreen after the family arrived home from the kirk session meeting. Father was not being unkind to Leana; he was simply fulfilling his promise to provide separate rooms for Jamie and her sister. Rose was relieved, of course. Yet seeing her sister here, curled up on the blue-and-white embroidered coverlet, sent a fresh wave of guilt washing over her. Could her father not have done better than this? The hurlie bed was too narrow for a grown woman. Low to the floor, it usually remained hidden beneath a larger bed, to be rolled out on the odd occasion when a visitor required bedding.

The room was too small as well. A single, small window facing north toward the gardens and Auchengray Hill afforded the only light. Rose lifted her skirts and moved soundlessly across the floor, then turned her back on the window for a better look at things. She’d only meant to investigate Ian’s room, preparing for the day when she would need to know what it contained, and instead had chanced upon a still life worthy of a painter’s brush.

Leana had not braided her hair that morning, so it fanned across the coverlet like a golden cloud. Her expression was serene, her skin as pale as Ian’s, both of them lit by the slanted rays of the forenoon sun falling across the room. The boy lay curled on his side with his chubby fists
tucked under his chin, his wispy brown hair still damp from his bath. Leana circled round the child, making a C with her body, as if protecting him.

From me
.

Rose bowed her head, tears stinging her eyes.
I would never hurt your son, Leana
.

How had it come to this? Aye, Rose wanted Jamie and was grateful the kirk session had seen fit to honor the wedding vows spoken on her behalf. But much as she adored the child, she’d never meant to have Ian.

Ye’re aboot tae become a mither. And a wife
. Was this what the wutch had meant? Both at once? Rose longed for a son, aye, but her
own
son. Jamie’s son, from her own body. Though in truth, she had no notion of how to care for a child alone. Would Leana show her how to change and bathe the boy? Would Neda tell her Ian’s favorite foods? Or would they watch her frantic attempts to handle him with smug satisfaction?

Nae
. Leana could never look smug.

Her sister was a finer mother asleep than many women were awake. All of Leana’s admirable qualities—patience, gentleness, contentment—served her well in motherhood. Rose knew she had none of those attributes. She was impatient, restless, always wanting more. Jamie had assured her he liked those things about her when they had first met, praising her speeritie ways.
Your joy captured my heart
. Aye, that’s what he’d said.

Now he wanted quiet, peaceful Leana. The mother of his son.

Rose bit her lip, looking away from the tender scene.
Please want me instead, Jamie. Please want me at all
.

“Rose?”

Jamie
.

He stood in the doorway, the man who was her husband, yet not her husband. “What brings you here?” she said, keeping her voice down. “Have the ewes tired of your company?”

“The better question is, what brings
you
here?” Jamie walked softly across the room, casting a warm gaze at mother and child as he passed by. Without another word he grasped Rose’s sleeve and led her back the way he’d come and out into the hall, releasing her at once. His gaze was
no longer warm nor his voice low. “You have no business in that room while my … while Leana is caring for Ian. You are not his stepmother yet, Rose.”

“Nae, but I
am
your wife, if only in name.” She lowered her eyes, wondering how she might endear herself to Jamie. “I thought I’d learn something about your son. About his care and how I might tend to his needs.”

“Look at me, Rose.”

She did so at once, startled by the request, and gazed into his handsome face.

He scrutinized her for a moment. “I merely wanted to see if you meant what you said.” Jamie folded his arms over his linen shirt, already stained from his morning labors. “To see if your eyes matched your words. You are quite the dissembler, Rose. If anyone could deceive a man in the dark, it would be you.”

Her spirits sank. “Jamie, I ken you’re … angry.”

“Angry?” He snorted. “That isn’t the half of it.”

“You have every right to be furious. But not with me, Jamie. Please, not with me. The clerical error was no one’s fault. As to my testimony yestreen, I didn’t give them a single detail about our … that is, your wedding night.”

His jaw tightened as she spoke, and then he mimicked her. “ ‘More than surprised, sir. I was shocked.’ You gave them all the evidence they needed, Rose. ’Twas very clever on your part. Naught weighing on your conscience, yet you got everything you wanted.”

“Not quite everything,” she said meekly, with no artifice at all. “For I do not have your heart.”

“ ’Tis true; you do not.” He stood back, unfolding his arms. “It belongs to the woman in that room and always will, as long as we two shall live. You’ve made a sorry bargain, Rose. Ask Leana what it is like to be married to a man who did not choose you and does not love you.”

Her spirits rallied, for on this point she had the upper hand over her sister. “You did choose me once, Jamie. You favored me above Leana. And you did love me. I ken that you did, for you told me so. Often.”

He shook his head. “You’re talking about the past, Rose. Did I love you once? I did … or thought I did. But you are not the same girl I met when I came to Auchengray. You are more secretive and prone to selfishness.” He looked troubled, as if he did not enjoy hurting her. “Your heart has grown hard, Rose. Perhaps ’Twas always thus, and I did not see it.”

BOOK: Fair Is the Rose
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