Resisting the Highlander: A Scottish Romance (3 page)

But about that same time, the British government decreed that no lighthouse could be privately owned, and they built one themselves on the only stable part of the old castle that was still standing.

Undaunted, Bridget’s ancestor leased several acres of land in close proximity to the lighthouse and built his own castle by the sea. In time, he became custodian of the lighthouse.

The home he’d built was two stories high with stone walls two feet thick and veneered on the outside with rough white harl. Bridget thought that it made a marked, pleasing contrast to the red tile roof. The four decorative turrets on each corner of the building and mock battlements around the roof gave the semblance of a castle. Two storage garrets atop the second floor were roofed in with red tile and came to within three feet of the battlements, creating a balcony all the way around accessible by a doorway from one of the garrets.

On the south side of the building, Robert had added a hexagonal-shaped room with walls of heavy glass on four sides and strong oaken shutters for protection against winter storms. The stables he had added to the estate when Aidan had come were matched to the castle with rough white walls and red tile roof.

Veritably, it was a show palace, standing on a grassy knoll that sloped down to the sea and a sheltered sandy cove, girded on two sides by large rocks and tide pools. Bridget, now taking this all in, was awed by the thought that some day this might belong to her.

Her reverie was broken by Aidan’s voice asking, “Are you interested in animals at all, Bridget? I would like to show you around so you can get an idea of the work I do here. We have some very fine horses, which I’m sure you would enjoy getting acquainted with.”

“I have never been around animals very much, but I think I would enjoy seeing some of the horses here and getting to know just what you and Robert do.”

He smiled with amusement, “Fine, Bridget, anytime you say then.”

They were met by Besse when they reached the house. Bridget felt herself tense at the sight of the dour faced, forbidding housekeeper. Short and plump with an ample bosom, she had the look of a woman who had lived a hard life. Judging by the look of her face at the moment, Bridget thought that she had nothing much left to smile about.

“You’re late, sir,” Besse grumbled, “I’ve been holding supper for you.” The look she gave Bridget made her feel as if she were to blame.

“Besse,” said Robert, quite unperturbed, “my granddaughter will be having supper with us. Please set another place.”

Bridget sensed the woman’s displeasure and wished she could go home to eat but knew her grandfather wouldn’t hear of it. Trying to sound cheerful, she said, “Oh, Besse, here are some things my mother sent over.” She handed her the basket. 

Besse took it with as much grace as she was capable of and answered, “Thank you, Miss Bridget, and thank your mum for sending them.” She flounced around the corner of the house towards the kitchen door.

Aidan, smiling enigmatically, said he would head to his quarters to wash up and change clothes for supper.

“Come, lass,” said Robert, “let’s go in the front way.” The front way was a heavy oaken door with the MacDonald crest in the center and the words Ty-Runach, Gaelic for “beloved house,” inscribed on a glass panel above the door.

Upon entering the parlor, Bridget looked around the beautiful room she had always admired. The lofty ceilings and wood paneled walls gave it an air of warmth and elegance, as did the deep red carpet on the floor. A semicircular staircase of twenty red carpeted steps dominated the east side of the room. On the wall at the turn landing hung a portrait of Robert’s wife, Bridget’s grandmother Katherine.

Mahogany tables and chairs polished to a brilliant shine attested to Besse’s housekeeping ability. Objects d’art from foreign lands were everywhere, and although Bridget had seen the room many times, she looked at it in a completely different light. She thought how wonderful it would be to actually live in this exciting atmosphere and make it her home. 

Across the spacious room on the west side was the large stone fireplace where a fire was always burning and another painting of a full rigged sailing ship hung on the wall above the mantle. Two leather armchairs were placed on each side of the fireplace and a leather upholstered settee sat directly in front of it.

On the north side of the room was the dining area just off the kitchen, which in turn was reached by a doorway under the stairway. On the far side from the dining area stood a magnificent grand pianoforte that Bridget has never seen before. Everything about the room looked elegant and inviting, but the pianoforte called out to her the most.  

Bridget thought that maybe her mum had been right. She could own it all some day if she tried her best to make Robert happy now. Looking around the room again she exclaimed, “How lovely everything looks, Grandfather. So cosmopolitan with all your different artifacts, yet so cozy and home like.”

Robert looked at her fondly, replying, “It will be much more so, lass, with you in it.” Then in a more serious tone he continued, “I need someone of my own near me in my declining years.”

She studied him, seeing lines on his face she hadn’t noticed before. His shoulders stooped slightly and his skin sagged. Though the fire in his eyes hadn’t lessened, Bridget could see the years on him and it scared her. She hugged him and answered, “We’ll see, Grandfather, we’ll see, but I’m not promising anything yet. Tell me though, when did you get the lovely pianoforte?”

“Oh, lassie, I thought it time you had one of your own and got it for you a few weeks ago. It would be a comfort having you play for me this evening.”

Bridget spoke seriously, “Don’t spoil me, Robert. I’m not used to it, but I am very glad you got the pianoforte.”

“Well, my dear, whether you come to live here or not, you can use the piano any time you want. It’s yours, and now here comes Aidan. Let’s sit down to supper. I see Besse has it all laid out.”

Aidan, with his black hair neatly combed and face shining as after a good scrubbing, came towards her and held the chair as she seated herself. He looked most attractive in tan colored trousers and a white, high-necked jersey. She found herself wishing she could feel more friendly towards him, but there was something about him that repelled her, and which for Robert’s sake, she would have to try and get over. He was far too self-assured for her liking, but if she decided to move into the anchorage, she would hopefully learn to cope with it.

Aidan sat directly across the table from her, Robert at the head between them. Every time she looked his way, Aidan’s dark eyes were upon her making her feel ill at ease and shy, but also furious with herself at the strange feelings within her. From the smug look on his face, she felt he was highly amused and knew exactly what was going on in her mind.

As she toyed with her food, Robert’s voice broke in on her, “What’s the matter, lass? You’ve hardly touched your supper. Don’t you like it?”

She looked startled for a moment, “I like the smoked fish well enough, but I never eat oat cakes. I’m going to the kitchen to get a piece of bread.” She got up from the table, glad of an excuse to get away for a moment, and hurried to the kitchen. 

Besse, eating her supper, looked up inquiringly. “I just want a piece of bread, Besse. Do you mind if I toast it?”

Then, without waiting for an answer, Bridget took a fork from one of the drawers, stuck it into a bread slice, and held it in front of the open fire, first one side and then the other. Smiling at Besse she said, “I don’t like oat cakes.”

Surprisingly, Besse answered, “Well here, lassie, put some butter on your bread.” She pushed the butter plate toward Bridget.

Bridget smiled,“Thank you, Besse.”

She walked back into the dining room when she was done, unaware of Besse’s eyes watching her closely. 

On returning to the dining room, she found the two men deep in conversation about horse breeding. They stopped conversing as she sat down at the table, causing her to look at them inquiringly.

“Now look you two,” she almost snapped at them, “I’m grown up now and know all about baby horses, so don’t stop your discussion on my account.”

Ignoring the two of them, she plowed into her food without another look or word. Aidan and Robert smiled at each other and resumed their talk.

When the meal was over, the two men retired to their respective chairs by the fire. Bridget helped Besse clear the table and carry the dishes to the kitchen.

“Besse, your supper was so very good, especially the warm rice pudding. And what a lovely clean kitchen you have. You work very hard, don’t you?”

She gave a small shake of her head. “No, not too hard, Miss Bridget, but I do like a clean house, especially the kitchen where food is prepared, so I do my best.” She had a happy look on her face at the praise from the younger woman.

“Let me help you now with the washing up of the dishes.”

“No, no lassie, your grandfather might not like it. You go in the parlor and visit with him.”

“All right, Besse, if you insist, but I’d like to do my share, you know. I don’t want you waiting on me when I come here.”

“We’ll see,” Besse said. “But not this time. Off you go now. There’s a good girl.”

It was evident that Besse thought of the kitchen as her own private domain, so being politely expelled from it, Bridget went back into the parlor where the two men sat in front of a blazing fire, feet stretched out upon the fender. 

It was a cozy scene. The aromatic smoke rising from the pipe they were smoking was very pleasing. Going to the piano, Bridget sat down and ran her fingers over the keyboard to get the feel of the instrument, then as the strains of Chopin’s “Polinaise” filled the air, Robert and Aidan exchanged looks of pleasure, Aidan nodding his head in satisfaction. Bridget noticed that Besse was seated in the chair near the kitchen door listening with a sweet smile on her usually glum face.

From the classic, Bridget swung into a medley of old Scottish songs, winding up with the plaintiff strains of “The Dark Isle.” She lost herself in the music until her fingers finally to rest.

She sighed as the music died away, remaining seated for a few moments with closed eyes, her thoughts far away in another time and place. Then getting up, she moved back to where the men were seated. Taking a fat pillow from the settee, she threw it on the floor beside Robert’s chair and sat down on it. Looking up at him, she noticed his eyes were wet. 

Aidan stole her attention by saying, “That was beautiful, Bridget, and I hope we shall hear lots more of your playing. You do it very well.”

“Thank you, Aidan,” she said, head bowing to hide her blush. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. As for myself, I couldn’t live without music.”

She leaned her head against her grandfather’s chair as Sarge came and lay on the floor beside her, resting his head on her lap.

“Ah, lassie,” said Robert, “it’s such a pleasure to have you here. It makes everything complete again.”

He reached out his gnarled hand and stroked her hair. They lapsed into silence then. Words seemed unnecessary at the moment. Although Bridget dreamily watched the dancing flames in the fireplace, and purposely didn’t look at Aidan again, she was fully aware that his gaze seldom left her face and she wondered what was in his mind. Was he resenting the fact that Robert wanted her to move in with them? Was he worried she might spoil his chances of being the old man’s heir?

Finally, she felt compelled to glance his way, and his dark brooding eyes held hers, bringing a another hot flush to her cheeks. The slightly arrogant look was back on his face and she got to wondering how her grandfather could possibly stand the man.

Then at last, Robert broke the silence, “Bridget, my dear, there is something I would like you to do for me if you will.”

She looked at him with a sweet smile, “What might that be, Robert? I’ll certainly do it if I can. Anything at all, just name it.”

Robert drew his hand across the back of his neck. Bridget remembered the gesture and knew he was about to propose something of which he was unsure of the outcome. 

He looked at Bridget with a rather sheepish smile. “Well, lassie,” he began, “on the night of the dinner I am giving, I would like you to wear one of the dresses your grandmother wore when she was a young woman. This particular one was my favorite and I’ve kept it through the years. Will you do it?”

She and Aidan exchanged surprised glances. He shrugged his shoulders, and then nodded his head indicating she should agree to Robert’s request.

“Wasn’t Grandmother very small?” she asked, uncertain that Robert realized how much Bridget had grown in the last couple of years.

“Oh, no smaller than you I think. Will you try it on for me now? I was sure you would come and had Besse lay it out for you. It’s in the bedroom at the head of the stairs. If you should need any help, I can send her up to you.”

Getting up from the floor, Bridget said, “I’d better do it now then. I don’t want to be too late in getting back home.”

Crossing to the other side of the room, she started up the stairs, stopping on the turn landing to look at the portrait of her grandmother. For a brief moment, she thought she was looking at herself, or at an older, more delicate version. The woman’s red hair was very much like her own and her eyes the same shade of sparkling green. But whereas her grandmother’s eyes conveyed a sweet and carefree temperament, her fine clothes and her regal posture made Bridget think herself a poor comparison.

With an odd feeling clinging to her, she went on upstairs and found the room Robert had indicated. She was surprised to see how elegantly it had been furnished and wondered if it had been done in the event of her moving in. The décor was done in gold and white with touches of deep orange throughout. Two windows on the west wall were hung with white lace curtains and heavy gold colored drapes. The floor was carpeted in the same shade of gold.

Going to the window, she pulled back the curtains and looked at the beach and ocean beyond. Although it was glooming now, she realized what a beautiful view there would be in the evenings of the long summer days.