Fated Love

Chapter 1-3

“I was sent to notify you that the family has gathered in the great hall.”

“Will there be anyone other than family?” Charlotte asked.

“Tonight? No, my lady,” replied her dutiful maid. “From what I’ve gathered, there are no other guests staying at the castle but family. Everyone who is invited to the birthday celebration on Saturday and next week’s hunt are neighbors and friends of the countess. We are the only guests for the duration.”

Penny exchanged curious glances with Charlotte and Isabel. “Thank you, Annie,” Charlotte said. “Isabel and I will be down shortly.”

After her maid left the room, Penny exhaled. As though an enormous weight lifted from her shoulders. “Even though he is not here tonight, I am still not feeling up to snuff, and if you wouldn’t mind—” She pressed her hands together, bringing her fingertips to her chin. “Please inform my mother that I am claiming exhaustion from travel, and will decline going below for tonight. Annie can bring me a tray later.”

“Does Olivia know about you and Mr. Santiago?” This came from Isabel as she sat next to Charlotte on the edge of the bed.

“Lady Edgar does. She is the one who wrote to my mother when she recognized the name. Whether she told Olivia of the connection, I am unsure.”

“The best thing to do is to stick as close to the plan we decided on before we left London,” said Charlotte. “That is, if he even comes to Lyden.”

Isabel agreed. “Just pretend he wasn’t important to you at all. Act as though we don’t even remember him.”

“Do that,” Charlotte said, “and if you still feel you cannot face him, then you can say you are unwell—”

“Until next week,” Isabel added, “when we can leave for Edinburgh with your mother.”

Charlotte gave Isabel a look that made Penny want to laugh. Or, she would have if she were in a better mood.

“I thought you were staying here, with me, to hunt with Lady Adina,” Charlotte said. “I wanted…”

“As much as I wish to hunt next week, the right thing to do is go with Penelope and Aunt Beverly if they leave,” Isabel admonished.

“Go enjoy dinner,” Penny said. “And if you can learn anything new and interesting, I would love to hear it.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?” Isabel asked.

“Not tonight.” Penelope had to, simply had to, grow a backbone between now and the next morning or her mother was sure to know she was still carrying a tendre for Mr. Santiago.

Isabel linked arms with Charlotte after closing Penelope’s door. She leaned in to speak to her cousin in a whisper. “She will have to find again the resolve she had before we walked into this castle.”

“Certainly before Mr. Santiago arrives,” Charlotte whispered back.

“It might be a good idea to find out if he is attending the party, and if so when he and the earl will get here.” Isabel wondered how it would look if her friend left with her mother, and she and Charlotte were to remain here. She didn’t think it would be good.

Charlotte leaned close and whispered, “How many house parties have you heard of that were this… intimate?” They continued down the long forest-green-patterned, carpeted hallway toward the main stairway. “And we are here for one whole month.”

“I want you to consider something,” Isabel began, “that if Penny wishes to go with her mother to Edinburgh, I think we should go with them. Especially if a betrothal between her cousin and Mr. Santiago will take place. It might be unbearable for her, to see her cousin enter into a marriage, whether it’s by force or free will, with the man our Penelope had fallen in love with. In that case, I think I will want to go with Aunt Beverly.”

Isabel knew how much Charlotte wanted to ride with the hunt next week, and so did she. But, where it felt to her that Charlotte wanted the hunt even at the expense of her friend’s happiness, Isabel just wanted Penelope to lay this issue with Mr. Santiago to rest. The past year and a half had been difficult for them all—first with him away on a secret assignment, then learning of his return and his betrothal to Penelope’s cousin. It had taken everything Isabel and Charlotte had to keep Penny from sending the man a letter. She’d reminded Penelope that Mr. Santiago hadn’t been in London long, and perhaps he’d had a change of heart while he was away.

But that didn’t explain what he was doing in Scotland. Clearly these next few days would be difficult, though how difficult would depend on Olivia’s actions, and on Mr. Santiago’s explanation.

She and Charlotte reached the sprawling, wide staircase at the end of their hall and when they stepped onto the landing mid-way down, Charlotte looked up, over Isabel’s shoulder, to make sure no one could hear what she wanted to say. “Certainly I will go if Aunt Beverly says I must,” she whispered. “But I am finally at Lyden, and I will not have that fickle Spaniard ruin my hunt.”

“Charlotte!” Isabel hissed.

“I’m sorry, but that man will hear a piece of my mind as soon as I can get him alone. What he did, leading my friend to believe he wanted to marry her, then disappearing, was despicable. If there was any proof besides Penny’s word, why, she could sue him for breach of promise. I’ve heard my father talk of it before.”

“She would never want her pain on display for men to judge. Doing that would ruin her.”

“But Mr. Santiago needs to know that he cannot go around playing free with a lady’s affections. There are repercussions for men who make a habit of it.”

“While I feel very much the same as you,” Isabel said, “I care more about Penelope’s happiness than I do telling Mr. Santiago what a—” She scanned the area around them to make sure no one could hear her “—What a horse’s arse he is.”

A footman at the bottom of the steps glanced toward them, likely waiting to escort the two ladies to where the others gathered. Charlotte took the opportunity to end the discussion by saying, “I care about both. Very much. He hurt our friend.”

When they landed on the main level the footman, as Isabel guessed, waited to lead her and Charlotte to where the family gathered before going in to dinner. Isabel stopped before stepping off the main staircase in the foyer. Lively conversation echoed through the cavernous addition, originating from the great hall below them. Voices echoed through the centuries-old original portion of the castle, telling Isabel where the family waited.

Massive thick oak doors that almost reached the ceiling, were lovingly oiled and heavily scarred from centuries of use. They were propped open to the foyer and Isabel could hear her brother entertaining someone with the tale of one of his recent outings in London. Her brother was charming when he wanted to be—usually when there were pretty girls around. Since there were no other masculine voices, she wondered if there were any other men here besides Marcus.

She glanced up at Charlotte, who stood several inches taller than she did. When Charlotte nodded, the two of them turned the corner and descended into the great hall.

Isabel took in the grand medieval room and the enormous cut stones that comprised the walls, and massive beams overhead which supported the slate roof she’d seen when their carriages arrived. This part of the castle, while ancient, was clean and in good repair, and as with the rest of the castle, still lit with candles in massive iron-forged chandeliers hanging from the center rafter that bisected the length of the hall. Gas lighting had not yet come to these rural areas, she was sure.

She saw her brother standing with two women, and a man Isabel did not know. Lady Adina and Aunt Beverly were seated before the fire deep in their private conversation. The man next to her brother looked to be a few years older than Marcus, and they entertained the two unknown ladies with tales of their adventures.

The grand hearth where they all congregated had a welcoming fire blazing inside an opening big enough for Isabel to stand inside. She could almost envision rushes on the floor and giant Scottish hounds lying next to the laird of the estate, seated upon a throne. The mantle above the fire was a massive hand-hewn solid log that was built into the stone surround. On the wall opposite the hearth hung a very large tapestry featuring the colors and coat-of-arms for the earldom of Rathcavan—a golden dragon rampant on a vertically split background half red, half black.

As Isabel and Charlotte drew closer to the cluster of people near the hearth, she grinned at her Aunt Beverly and Lady Adina. The ladies standing with her brother turned and smiled when Marcus gestured toward her and Charlotte. The petite blonde, Isabel concluded, was pretty. Very pretty. Her golden blonde hair was done in an elaborate chignon atop her head, and wisps of curls slipped her knot which gave her an attractive, romantic look.

Was this Olivia? She could see the familial resemblance to Penelope in coloring. But that was the only common thing. The other girl had curls where Penny did not. The other girl was also petite, curvy, and had abundant cleavage, much like Isabel herself, while Penelope and Charlotte were both tall and willowy.

She and Charlotte greeted Aunt Beverly, and Charlotte made her excuses for Penelope, saying she was still tired from the trip, but was sure to be fine tomorrow.

“Gowrey,” Lady Adina said, “If my great-niece is still not feeling well after a night’s rest, you must make her well. We hunt next week and I know she’s a game lass and has likely been looking forward to the hunt as much as these other two young ladies.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the young man Isabel didn’t know said through a smile after giving her a mock bow. Isabel thought he was very handsome. Tall and lean like her brother, he had dark auburn curls, worn unfashionably short. His striking silvery-blue eyes were warm and friendly, softening the brow, and his wide, square jaw made that smile feel genuine to her.

Gowrey? He was going to make this an interesting stay in the country. But how was he going to make Penelope better? As the introductions continued, Isabel learned that Gowrey was Doctor Alain Wallace Gowrey, physician at the Royal Hospital in Edinburgh, and maternal cousin to the earl of Rathcavan, whose castle this was.

They were then introduced to Lady Edgar Gordon and Miss Olivia Gordon. The older woman was the countess’ daughter-in-law, aunt to Miss Olivia.

“I am more than just her aunt,” Lady Edgar intoned in a voice that was most irritating to the ears. A more high-pitched, scratchy whine Isabel had never heard in her life. “Aren’t I, my darling girl?” Turning to Isabel and Charlotte she added, “I’ve raised her from the time her father died. And, for the past two years, Olivia has been my solitary focus, as I prepared her for society much as her mother, God rest her, would have done had she survived. I am also introducing her to all the proper families now that she is out.”

Olivia was behind Lady Edgar, standing next to Marcus, and she rolled her eyes at the girls so her aunts and grandmother could not see. The act caused a tiny giggle to escape Isabel, which she immediately covered with a cough. She shouldn’t laugh at such childish actions but it was so perfectly timed that she couldn’t help herself.

Isabel glanced up at her brother, almost a foot taller than she, and she noticed something different about him. He stood a little straighter and—oh, goodness!—he stared at the bosomy petite blonde with a soft smile she’d not seen on his face since… since he fancied himself in love with Miss Anne Tipton.

And that was when Isabel realized Marcus was smitten by the little vixen. She was likely betrothed to another man, and her very own brother was charmed by her. Oh, this really was going to be a very interesting month.

While Lady Adina, Aunt Beverly, and Charlotte discussed next week’s hunts, Isabel tried to keep up with both groups of conversations. The more she listened to Miss Olivia speak, the more Isabel thought she sounded incredibly self-centered and vain—which begged the question… what was wrong with her brother?

She would have to take a moment to speak privately with him later, after dinner perhaps, and remind him of Olivia’s possible future marital status. If she really was betrothed, it was as good as being married. While Isabel didn’t know if any contracts were signed, just the fact that Lady Edgar had assumed it was a true betrothal meant that the girl was as good as wed.