“I have many matters on my mind.”
“Is it about Lady Emma and our paying the rent?” Minnie said, dropping her voice lest any of the others around them overhear what she was saying. “I talked to Oliver. He said perhaps he can help. I mean, he doesn’t earn much. Usually his patients pay him in turnips and bread, but maybe we can work something out.”
Portia put her hand on her sister’s shoulder. “Oh, Minnie, it isn’t the rent.” For a moment, she debated confiding in this person who was closer to her than any other.
However, the opportunity was swept away by their mother’s approach. “I don’t understand why we can’t have a proper horse and vehicle. I mean, even Mr. Tolliver has one. You hold too tight to a coin, Portia. Too tight.” On that pronouncement she swept into the chapel, and her daughters had no choice but to follow.
The service was long. Mr. Ogilvy enjoyed hearinghimself speak and had a good bit to say. Today’s sermon was on the story of the Prodigal Son. Always before, Portia had cast herself in the role of the oldest son. Not today. She saw herself as the youngest son, the one who was hedonistic and enjoyed sensual pleasures and paid a price—
It was then Portia realizedshe could be with child. Chattan’s child. And then everyonewould know what she’d done.
The thought was horrific, especially when she remembered how Laird Macdonald’s gardener had kept spitting at the mention of the name “Chattan.”
Dear God, please don’t let me be carrying his baby, she prayed. In fact, she’d never prayed so fervently in her life—and that was when she felthim.
The hair at the nape of her neck tingled.
Portia knew before she turned around that Colonel Chattan sat behind her. He satdirectlybehind her, and he was staring at her with an intensity that left no doubt in her mind, or that of anyone who noticed, that he was there forher.
Chapter Ten
Portia snapped her head back around to focus on Mr. Ogilvy in the pulpit.
What did Colonel Chattan think he was doing? He hadn’t been to services since he arrived, and he showed upthisday? Portia felt her temper rise.
If he was following her around because he wanted to repeat what had happened last night, he was going to be disappointed. He’d caught her in a weak moment. That woman who had so eagerly leaped into his arms was notshe. She’d had a moment of madness but she was sane, sober andremorsefultoday.
By the time the services had ended, Portia had worked herself into such a state, she almost couldn’t wait for a confrontation with Colonel Chattan, and then she saw Lady Emma.
Her Ladyship had realized Colonel Chattanwas in the chapel, and she was not pleased that he sat close to Portia.
Minnie leaned toward Portia. “Now Lady Emma is looking daggers at you. This is very odd, Portia. She is overreacting to a bit of spilled tea.”
“Yes, it is,” Portia agreed. “Now, if you will excuse me?”
She didn’t wait for her sister’s answer but brushed by her to leave the pew before Colonel Chattan could say anything to her.
Fortunately for her, he’d brought General Montheath with him. The general used this opportunity in church to corner Lady Maclean in the aisle and was attempting to converse. In fact, he seemed insistent he converse, as if he’d been gathering his courage all night for just this moment.
Her mother blocked the aisle, making it impossible for Lady Emma to move past her, and General Montheath blocked the pew so that Colonel Chattan couldn’t leave.
Portia was free to leave and she did not dally. She fled the chapel and kept walking. Of course, Minnie had been following her and now caught up with her. “Portia, what is it? You’ve been acting peculiar.”
“Nothing is wrong. I don’t wish to linger. I want to leave as quickly as possible. I have chores.”
“It’s Sunday.”
“There is no day of rest for women.”
“Granted, but we usually spend a few moments visiting with our neighbors,” Minnie said. “Only last week you claimed this was your favorite part of the Sunday.”
“It is. Sometimes. I’m ready to go.” Portia would have plowed on, but Colonel Chattan had escaped the chapel and had come up behind her.
Her traitorous body wanted to jump into his arms.
“Good day, Miss MacleanandMiss Maclean,” he said to Portia and Minnie, as pleasant as one could be. He was obviously not racked with guilt over what had happened last night.
“How are you, Colonel?” Minnie said with great warmth.
