Elaine Coffman - [MacKinnon 04] (5 page)

“Probably, but it’s the best I could do on such short
notice. Maybe by tomorrow…” He began, placing little nibbling bites along her
neck.

“You’ll never find your brother a wife if you keep this up,”
she said, pulling back to look at him.

“No, but I’ll have more fun.”

“Ross, you’re getting off course again.”

“I suppose you’re right. This is no time to be distracted.”
Hearing the rumbling laugh Annabella was unable to suppress, he added, “I still
say this is no laughing matter.” He looked down at her, his tone as serious as
his face. “You never did answer my question. Do you have anyone in mind, or
don’t you?”

Annabella tapped her cheek in thought. “I might,” she said.
“Read that part again…where he lists the qualities he considers most
important.”

“All fifty of them?”

“Oh, Ross, there aren’t that many.”

“There might as well be,” he grumbled, and picked up the
paper. He read the list to Annabella again, shaking his head as he did. He was
right. His brother didn’t want much, simply the sun and the moon, just as he’d
said.

“She must be fair
of face and form, polished, educated, from an excellent family of good breeding
and high position—in other words, dear brother, a fair-haired milkmaid is not
to my liking. But the daughter of a duke, or something like that, would be. And
please, please, don’t waste your time on some simpering nitwit who’s only
eighteen. I’m past thirty now. Maturity, grace, and poise appeal to me more
than youth. A word of caution here, though. Children are the primary reason I
seek a wife, so don’t send a woman older than me and past childbearing. One
more point. Since the time I can be away from here is limited, I desire you to
select the right woman, then marry her—you standing in as proxy for me, of
course. I have enclosed a draft to cover all expenses for her travel and
anything she might wish to purchase and bring with her.”

When he finished, Ross looked at Bella, seeing her face
puckered in thought. “You’re wasting your time, love. We won’t be able to find
a woman like this in a hundred years,” he said, tossing the letter onto his
desk. “The women who fit the description best are the young
simpering
nitwits
he doesn’t want.”

“I suppose you’re right. Any older, mature woman who would meet
all that criteria would have been long married,” Bella added.

“Or long dead,” said Ross.

He opened his desk drawer. “The biggest drawback here is the
fact that a woman from a well-positioned family wouldn’t be agreeing to
marriage like this. Not unless she was desperate.” Ross took out a sheet of
paper, closing the drawer. “I’ll get a letter off to Adrian straightaway. He’ll
just have to understand that he’s asking the impossible.”

Ross dropped into his chair, picked up the quill, and dipped
it into the inkwell.

“Unless she was desperate,” Annabella repeated softly, her
expression one of deep thought. Then she made a sudden move, saying, “Hold
everything,” which caused Ross to spatter ink all over the paper.

“Keep that up and I’ll never get this letter—”

“Hold everything,” she said again. “What did you just say?”

“I said I’d get a letter off—”

“No, before that.”

“What? The part about a woman having to be desperate to—”

“That’s it!” she said, clapping her hands together. “Oh,
Ross, you are the luckiest man alive. You have just been saved by your clever,
clever wife.” Ross looked at her blankly.

“I have the perfect woman,” Annabella announced. “She is so
perfect, I am simply amazed I didn’t think of her right off.” She rubbed her
hands together like a child eyeing a sweet. “Oh, I have outdone myself this
time.” Then moving to Ross, she kissed him and said, “Count your blessings,
husband. I have your brother’s wife.”

“You must be joking.”

“Would I do that?”

“Aye, you would. Now, tell me who you’ve come up with. And
no jokes.”

“Margaret Ramsay,” she said. Then, with more satisfaction in
her voice, she added, “She is no joke, Ross. Maggie is everything he described
and more.”

“I’ll say!” Ross said, his once hopeful expression wilting.
“That something more numbers about three, if I remember right.”

“You’re being perfectly ridiculous.”

“Bella, she’s been married…”

“To the Duke of Glengarry, don’t forget.”

“But—”

She silenced him with a wave of her hand. “Please, Ross, let
me finish. Adrian didn’t say the woman had to be a virgin or a spinster. You
yourself said she had to be desperate, and Maggie Ramsay is the most desperate
woman I know.”

“Bella, if I sent Adrian a woman who had been married
before—one with three children—he would shoot me first and ask questions later.”

“It’s because she’s been married and had three children that
she is perfect.”

Ross threw up his hands. “I don’t believe this.”

“Ross, listen to me for a moment. Adrian wants a family, and
women have been known to be barren. Margaret is a proven breeder.”

“With three children, she’s a bit overproofed, if you ask
me.”

“Overproofed? You make it sound like we’re talking about
bread dough.” Then Annabella added, “Be sensible. She’s perfect and you know
it.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I most certainly am,” she said. “You know we could look
from now ‘til doomsday and never find a woman like Maggie Ramsay. She’s
intelligent and well bred, and she has more stamina and endurance than ten
ordinary women, something she’ll need if she’s to become a member of the Mackinnon
clan, I might add. Why, she’s perfect for Adrian, I tell you. Her best asset is
her calm, dignified manner, which would be a perfect foil for his blustery
ways.”

“A calm, dignified manner would drive my brother to
drinking.”

“So will remaining a bachelor. Maggie is the right woman for
him. You know he could do worse. Maggie has a kindness of heart and generosity
of nature you don’t find in many people. A man like Adrian needs that in a
woman. The last thing he needs is a hothead, a woman prone to outbursts and
rages. Maggie is a woman of strong feeling and intense interest in the world
around her.”

Bella went right on. “She would adapt to Adrian’s life
beautifully—and well you know it. Moreover, she has a calm nature, a practical
side, a keen wit, and sense of humor—all which she will need, I might add,
if
your
brother is anything like you. Now, you tell me, Ross Mackinnon, just
who would be a better match for him? Kate McNamara? Maura MacGregor? Jeanne
Morris?”

Ross shook his head, shuddering more with each name she
called.

“You see what I mean? She’s too good to be true. If it
weren’t for her dire circumstances, I suspect Maggie would never even consider
accepting such an offer, but desperate situations call for desperate measures.
You know yourself, Maggie needs him as much as he needs her. California would
be the perfect place for her, away from all the sorrow and pain she’s faced
here. It would be a new life, a new beginning. Can you just imagine what her
life here would be like…how she would always be worried if that horrid Adair
Ramsay would do something harmful to Fletcher?”

“I still don’t know,” Ross said. “I have a feeling Adrian
would gag at the thought of having a wife who had been married before. And one
with children would probably anger him enough to commit murder.”

“Well, you’re far enough away that his anger would have
cooled by the time he got here,” said Annabella. “If not, you could always hide
behind my skirts,” she said, laughing at her husband’s expression.

Annabella began straightening the lapels of Ross’ coat.
“Maggie Ramsay is right for him, and you know it. It’s almost as if Fate put
the two of them together. Praise be.” She gave his lapels a final pat. “And as
for the children, don’t be forgetting Adrian did say he wanted them…”

“Bella, he wants to
sire
children, not get them
ready-made.”

“What if we picked a woman who was barren? Wouldn’t that be
a fine kettle of pumpkins.”

“A fine kettle of fish,” Ross said, amused by the way
Annabella bungled his familiar expressions in the most delightful manner.

“Well, whatever,” she said. “Now, let’s don’t argue about
this any further. We need to put our differences behind us and think about
convincing Margaret Ramsay to marry your brother.”

“Why do I feel like a lamb being led to slaughter?” asked
Ross.

“I’m sure I don’t know,” Annabella said, raising her brows.
“I thought we merely agreed to put our disagreements behind us and join
forces.”

“I don’t remember doing that,” Ross said, “but I have a
feeling you’ll convince me it was my idea in a minute or two.”

Knowing when he was out-flanked, out-maneuvered, and
out-talked, Ross didn’t say anything else. When he looked at his wife, she was
smiling.

Two weeks later, the Duke and Duchess of Dunford, seated in
their new traveling coach, bounced and rattled their way north, covering miles
and miles of heather-covered moor, barely stopping to give their horses a rest,
until they arrived at the home of Margaret Ramsay’s father, the Earl of
Caithness. Immediately upon their arrival, they made Maggie Ramsay an offer she
couldn’t refuse.

Her mouth open in astonishment, Maggie was too stunned to do
more than stare at them. “Marriage?” she said at last. “By proxy?” She shook
her head, the words of her friend Ross clamoring in her mind like a blast from
the church organ.

The way Ross had spoken, it sounded as if he were offering a
toast.
I would like to propose a marriage between you and my brother in
California…a marriage by proxy…

Ross’ brother was quite wealthy, she knew, and marriage to a
man of means would be a godsend to any woman in straits as dire as hers, but
marriage to a man she had never met? Marry an American and leave Scotland?

Ross frowned. “Well, Maggie, what do you say?”

She stared at Ross helplessly. “I…I’m not sure. I’m stunned.
Speechless.”

“A speechless woman,” Ross said, then turning to Bella, he
said, “You were right, love, she is the perfect wife.”

“Oh, for Heaven’s sake, Ross, give her time to breathe.
You’ve just sprung the question. She needs time to think.”

Then to Maggie she said, “Take all the time you need. Adrian
has been a bachelor for over thirty years. A few days won’t make any
difference.”

“I didn’t mean she had to give me her answer straightaway,”
Ross said. “I merely wanted to know her initial response.”

“Shock,” Maggie said, her face white as paper. “I dinna ken
what to say.”

“Is the idea of marriage to my brother repulsive to you?”
Ross asked.

Maggie stared at him helplessly, then she smiled. “I said I
was stunned, Ross, not stupid.”

“I think I can safely say Adrian has a more sensitive nature
than Ross… Aye, a
goat
is more sensitive,” Bella said, giving her
husband a quelling look.

Ross cleared his throat. “Now, Maggie, I didn’t mean to
scare you with my offer, but…well, what I meant to say was…” He looked helplessly
at Annabella. “Perhaps you can put it better than I can, love,” he said.

Annabella laughed, giving him a hug. “A two-year-old could
do better,” she said. Then, turning to Maggie, she added, “The Mackinnon men
aren’t known for their ability to express themselves.”

Annabella went on to tell Maggie about Adrian Mackinnon,
saying, when she finished, “And so you can see how it would make sense for a
man in his position to enlist his brother’s help in finding himself a wife,”
she said at last.

“Adrian is quite capable of giving you everything you could
ever want,” Ross said. “A bright future for your children, a grand
home—anything you want.”

Except love
, Maggie thought, her heart softening
toward Ross. How like a man to think in terms of money and possessions, when
what she wanted was the things money could not buy. The kinds of things she had
with Bruce. “It’s true, I dinna have a very bright future as things now stand,
and I did hope to remarry. I’ve had one offer already…”

“Your father told me,” Ross said. “He said you had an offer
from a man too old for you.”

“Aye, he was too old,” she said, “in his dotage, but I canna
marry solely for money. I canna.”

“Of course you can’t,” Annabella said, coming to sit beside
Maggie and putting her arms around her. “That’s why we felt Adrian would be the
perfect man for you. He’s young, and yes, it’s true he is well off financially,
as well as being handsome and quite the catch his brother was. But more
importantly, he is a sensitive, caring man, capable of great depth in loving.”

Ross raised his brows, but said nothing.

At last Maggie shook her head and said, “Marriage by proxy.
I’ve never heard of such.”

But before the duke and duchess ended their three-day stay,
Maggie had not only heard of such, she had agreed to it.

The morning they were scheduled to leave, Maggie joined them
in her father’s study, going over details for the proxy wedding and the
subsequent trip to San Francisco.

By this time, Ross was convinced Maggie was the woman for
his brother. He felt he and Annabella had done a bang-up job convincing Maggie
that she was making the right decision, but it wasn’t in Ross’ nature to be
devious or manipulating, and he was certainly not one given to cheating. For
these reasons, he laid his cards plainly on the table.

“As strongly as I feel you are the perfect woman for
Adrian,” he said, “I feel I must be completely honest with you, Maggie. To put
it simply, you’ve got your work cut out for you. My brother isn’t an easy man
to live with. He’s opinionated and moody, and cynical as they come, but his
bark is worse than his bite. He’s thirty-one years old and has never been
married. He’s wealthy, lonely, and bitter. He needs a woman like you in his
life, someone to make him smile again.”

At this last comment, Maggie glanced from Ross to Annabella.
“The love of his life married his twin brother,” Bella said. “Adrian never got
over it.”

“Don’t let Bella mislead you. Katherine was Adrian’s
sweetheart in Adrian’s mind only. She never had eyes for anyone but his twin
brother, Alex. After Katherine and Alex married, Adrian replaced the need for
women with a desire for success and fortune. He’s one of the wealthiest men in
California, with vast timber holdings. But he doesn’t know beans from buckshot
when it comes to women, and that’s a fact.”

“Darling, don’t frighten Maggie with comments like that.
Leave Adrian’s letters with her. Let her read them, as I have.” Annabella
leaned forward, the vivid green of her dress bringing out the rich black of her
hair as the firelight danced across it. Looking at his wife, Ross forgot what
he was about to say. How different her rich raven’s coloring was from Maggie’s
wood thrush red and brown. When Maggie glanced at him, he thought,
She does
have the loveliest eyes
—a point he reminded himself to mention in his
letter to Adrian.

There were also a few other things he reminded himself
not
to mention, namely Maggie’s marriage and her children. That wasn’t a decision
Ross had reached easily. It was only after much thought that he had decided to
withhold the information from Adrian. It wasn’t as if Ross was trying to
represent Maggie as something she wasn’t. It was simply that Ross knew Adrian,
and he knew the fact that Maggie had been married before—married and borne
children—would not sit too well with his brother, at least not at first. There
was little doubt in Ross’ mind that Adrian had envisioned a woman who had never
been married when he wrote his letter, and that was understandable. Not many
men would consider being married—for the first time—to a widow with children,
that is, unless he had fallen in love with her. And
that
was what Ross
was banking on.

Ross knew that even as a boy growing up, Adrian had always
felt he was in second place, running just a little behind his twin, the more
sociable, outgoing Alex. As he reached manhood, it became apparent that Adrian
was the ambitious one, the one determined to show the world that he could, and
would, master his past. And he had done just that. Over the years, Ross had
seen, through Adrian’s letters, that Adrian was a man who expected and accepted
only the best of the best. It was only a hunch, but a strong one, that made
Ross feel that Adrian wouldn’t be so much upset over the fact that Maggie had
been married before as he would be to discover he had, once again, come in
second.

Only last night, he had lain in bed, talking to Annabella,
who was, at first, shocked to hear Ross would even consider such deception.
After a lengthy discussion, Annabella said, “I suppose you’re right, but I
can’t help worrying about Maggie. What do you think will happen if Adrian finds
out about her
before
he falls in love with her?”

“He will know what he has in Maggie the moment he meets
her.”

“You aren’t answering my question.”

Ross chuckled. “He won’t shoot her, if that’s what you
mean.”

“It’s not, and you know it. Now, do be serious, Ross. This
is, after all, Maggie’s future we are discussing.”

“You’re right, love,” Ross said, then with a serious tone,
he added, “Adrian will be disappointed, and even quite angry, when he learns of
her past, but he’s no fool. It won’t take him long to realize he could never
find a woman to compare with Maggie—married or not.” Ross rolled over in the
bed and kissed Annabella. “Besides, it’s
me
Adrian will be angry with.
Now, if I was there, he would probably choose pistols at ten paces, but I won’t
be there, and my brother isn’t a cruel man. He will know Maggie is innocent of
all this.”

Annabella lifted a skeptical brow. “Are you so certain?”

“Aye. Certain enough to put your pretty mind at ease. I
promise I will write Adrian—in due time, of course—and I will confess, fully,
to my sins of omission. Satisfied?”

“Only if you let me read the letter first.” Annabella
frowned. “I don’t know,” she said. “Perhaps you should at least tell Maggie.”

“No. I’ve thought about that, but I’ve decided it would be
best to keep Maggie in the dark about all of this.”

“Why?”

“Because Adrian can’t very well blame her for any deception
when she had no idea one was taking place.” Ross paused, then added, “And
another thing; I don’t think Maggie would go through with the marriage if she
knew.”

“I don’t either, but you could wait until after the wedding.
Once she is married…”

“I’m not so certain she would go to California even then,”
Ross said.

Annabella sighed. “I pray to God you know what you’re doing,
then.”

“I do. As the saying goes, ‘He can best avoid a snare who
knows how to set one.’”

Because he felt in his heart he was doing the right thing,
Ross felt no remorse over sending Maggie innocently on her way to California.
God willing, Adrian would be too much in love with her by the time he learned
of her past circumstances to ever consider ending their marriage.

At that moment, Ross looked at his wife and he gave his
attention to what she was saying.

Annabella patted Maggie’s hand. “You won’t be able to read
Adrian’s letters and not care for him. He needs you, Maggie. More than you need
him, I suspect.”

By the time Maggie stood at the front door waving goodbye to
Ross and Annabella, she was wondering just what she had gotten herself into.
Once the coach crested the hill and disappeared from sight, she stepped inside
the house, closing the door behind her.

She served her father a cup of tea and tucked his Shetland
robe about his legs, knowing he would doze by the fire after his tea. Leaving
her father, she made her way upstairs to find Maude reading to Ainsley. Taking
Ainsley in her lap, Maggie kissed the top of her head. “Where is that brother
of yours?” she asked.

Ainsley pointed toward the door and looked at Maude.

“He went with Barrie to the kitchen to have cook bring us a
tray,” Maude said. “We’re having a tea party.”

Maggie kissed Ainsley as she climbed from her lap. “I’ll be
in Father’s study if you should need me.”

Making her way downstairs, Maggie thought about the bundle
of letters waiting downstairs, and the man they would reveal to her. She
thought about Ross Mackinnon’s honesty in telling her the truth about his
brother, and her own dishonesty in agreeing to marry a man because she was so
desperate. The only thought that eased her feelings of deceit was her
determination to make it up to Adrian Mackinnon by making him a good wife.

Settling herself in the chair by the fire, Maggie took up
the bundles of yellowed letters, pulling the string and taking the first letter
from the bottom of the stack.

Three hours later, she placed the last letter on top of the
stack and retied the string.

She had learned much about Adrian Mackinnon from the things
he had written there. She had learned even more from the things he did not say.
Feeling somewhat melancholy, she stared into the fire, wondering about this
strange man who had revealed so much about himself, while writing so diligently
about the redwoods and life in a lumber camp.

His letters were intelligent, well written, original, and
crammed with a lot of facts and not too many feelings. What they told her was
that Adrian Mackinnon was a proud man who had been hurt, and hurt deeply.

But it was his descriptions of the land and life he loved
that gave Maggie the most insight into the man who was Adrian Mackinnon.

I suppose it’s the
vastness, the untouched wildness of this country, that humbles a man and brings
him to his knees. You can’t ride five miles into the redwoods and see the
world’s tallest trees towering two hundred and fifty feet over your head and
not feel the hand of God upon your shoulder. There’s a plant here with
cloverlike leaves. We call it the redwood sorrel. Whenever a shaft of sunlight
filters through the redwoods and touches it, its leaves fold up like tiny hands
at prayer.

There’s something
bigger than mankind, bigger than even creation here—something I can only call
the presence of God. It makes a man realize how insignificant he is; what a
small part of the universe each of us occupies.

Adrian was a serious man, but there were touches of humor in
his letters. Once, when describing himself to Annabella, he wrote:

I’m not as
talkative as that husband of yours. Best I remember, Ross could talk the legs
off a potbellied stove. As for me, I suppose you could say I don’t use up all
my kindlin’ to get a fire started.