Page 9 of Wouldn’t it Be Scottish?

Donal knew he probably should, but what was the point? “She won’t listen to me,” he said. “She’ll accuse me of trying to spoil things for her.”

Mrs. Robinson gave him a sympathetic nod. “Then I will try.” They watched her leave the room in some surprise, apart from Agatha’s father who was smiling. “Miriam has a mind of her own,” he explained, “and a very kind heart. I won’t reveal her story except to say she was hurt badly as a girl by a man who sounds a bit like Belvoir.”

“Oh,” Agatha said softly.

“Have you seen Richard?” Kilsyth asked after a moment, once again watching his daughter’s face.

She nodded. “Briefly. He did not see me. He was too busy ogling that woman.”

Donal thought she was right, Sir Richard had been ogling his partner, as if she were everything he imagined a woman should be and more. As if he couldn’t believe she was real. Donal suspected the fellow would eventually be disappointed, because who could be perfect, really? There were always flaws, always cracks and dark corners, in everybody.

“Well,” Kilsyth said with forced cheerfulness, “it is early days. My advice, if you want it, is that you should both carry on. Then when Richard discovers he has made a terrible mistake, you will be on hand to forgive him.”

Agatha smiled wanly. “Let us hope he regains his senses soon.”

Looking between father and daughter made Donal wonder what his father Maxwell would think of his current situation. Would he applaud his son’s efforts or tell him not to be such a fool and to come home? After the way his brothers had behaved when they were in London, his father could hardly put Donal’s small misdemeanor in the same basket. He had forgiven Callum and Rory, and their wives had been warmly welcomed into the MacKenzie clan. It was just that Donal had always felt as if he was treated differently. His family seemed to want to coddle him and to protect him, as if he couldn’t look after himself. The very thought of him setting off to London in pursuit of Mary had alarmed them. Not because they thought he might succeed but because they already saw him failing and returning home even more hurt than when he had left.

Mrs. Robinson returned and sat down. She raised her elegant eyebrows at Kilsyth. “She didn’t want to talk to me. She told me to mind my own business.”

“At least you tried, Miriam,” Kilsyth said, covering her hand with his.

Agatha seemed fascinated by their display of affection and perhaps not entirely happy about it. To distract her, Donal said, “Shall we dance again?”

He had to admit that they danced well together. If they spent the next few weeks simply dancing, he wasn’t going to complain. Although that was defeatist thinking, and remembering his family had made him more motivated to carry out their plan and return triumphant. He just had to imagine the shocked admiration on their faces to inspire himself.

Agatha looked at him in surprise and then nodded. “Yes, let’s show them how much fun we are having.” And when they stood up, she beamed at him so brightly that he almost believed her.

Chapter Five

Miriam Robinson watched the dancing, but her thoughts were elsewhere. She probably shouldn’t have interfered in Agatha’s scheme with Donal MacKenzie, but when they had spoken of Belvoir and Mary Davidson . . . She had been transported back to her youth and Bernard. If only someone had warned her at the time, then she would not have spent the last twenty years unhappy. But would she have listened? The young always thought they knew best, and she hadn’t been any different.

As Agatha and Donal took to the floor, Archie Kilsyth reached over to take her hand. He was a dear man, and if she felt a little guilty for keeping things from him, well she told herself she wasn’t doing him any harm. In fact, she was performing a service. He had been in mourning for years, and without her he would probably still be struggling to step out of the shadows.

She had bullied him into accepting invitations, reacquainting himself with old London friends, and slowly learning to live again. Now he was dependent upon her, so dependent that he would not want to let her go. Well, she would deal with that problem when the time came.

They had met at the Vauxhall Pleasure Gardens, both of them masked in preparation for a masked ball. Miriam had been at her wit’s end. When Bernard had died, she had wondered what to do with herself. She owned a little house and was frugal enough that she did not want for much. Did she miss Bernard? She supposed in some ways she did, but his passing had been more of a relief than a grief. And he had left her with questions she had yet to find the answers to.

When she decided to go to Vauxhall, she had been aching for the company of others. She had decided she would call herself “Robinson,” which was her maiden name, and as she rarely went into society, no one would be the wiser. She had just wanted to pretend for a moment she was fancy-free and without the burden Bernard had left her with.

And then she had met Archie Kilsyth. She had known at once that he was a good man. He had the kindest eyes. And in return for him buying them supper and dancing with her, she had spun him a web of lies.

“I am lonely. My husband died last year, and it seems as if I never laugh anymore!”

He had understood that. He was a widower and had been mourning his wife for years. Archie had offered to take her to the theatre, and she had accepted with pleasure. She had learned a little more about him as time went on and their friendship grew. He had one child, a daughter, and his house and land were located near a place called Setholm on the Scottish borders.

“Do not laugh,” he said, “but I have a donkey sanctuary which takes in animals no longer wanted by their owners. It was my wife’s passion, and I promised her I would keep it going.”

“What will happen to the donkeys while you are in London?” Miriam had asked, immediately concerned. She had always loved animals, and her heart went out to those abandoned creatures.

“I have employed carers, never fret,” he said with a smile. “But I admit it is a tie. I can never be away for very long.”

“But you are fond of them?” she insisted.

Archie smiled wryly. “Too fond I sometimes think. Life would be much simpler without them, and yet I cannot turn any of them away.”

He was so good. Miriam was worried her secret would besmirch him. He would not stay at her side if he really knew her. Could she keep pretending? The longer they were together, the more difficult it was to tell him the truth.

Now Miriam watched Agatha and Donal dancing. They danced very well together, as if their bodies were in harmony. Yes, they were grieving the loss of partners whom they had thought loved them, but they were young. In Miriam’s experience, desire often overcame good sense.