"This morning," Margaret said tersely. "Ian says Glenclaren needs him now and he will go to Spain in the spring." Her hand momentarily clenched on the banister before she started down the steps. "I told the idiot he will make me a widow before spring if he does not rid himself of that cough, and he cannot do it here. Glenclaren's winters are too harsh."
Jane had witnessed the harshness of those winters for the past three years and felt the same apprehension as Margaret. "Perhaps he will change his mind."
"He hasn't changed it in three months. He keeps talking about Glenclaren and what he has to do this winter. He will die here."
"Keep at him," Jane said. "He was so excited about the plans for the new dam."
"A man needs to feel a sense of worth. I knew it was the only way to get him to come alive again." Margaret grimaced. "But after telling him for three years that Glenclaren can't get along without him, how do I convince him he should go off and bask in the sun?"
"Is that why you sent for me? I've already told him the mill is doing well. It's practically running itself now." Jane frowned anxiously. "But I suppose I could talk to him again."
"He won't listen to you either. It's just as well I saw this coming and took measures."
"What measures?"
"Ruel."
Jane stopped in midmotion on the steps.
Margaret cast her a shrewd glance. "You've gone pale as the flour in the bins at your precious mill. Does even the thought of him jar you?"
Jane resumed going down the stairs. "Of course not. If I seem pale, it must be because the hall is dim and the light is fading."
"It's only midafternoon and the light is strong."
"Why should it bother me if you talk of Ruel?"
"For the same reason you haven't mentioned the scamp's name since the first day you arrived here." Margaret wearily shook her head. "It's none of my concern how Ruel has managed to alienate you. I'm aware he has a splendid facility in that direction. If you don't wish to tell me, I can—"
"I do not speak of it because it's not important," Jane interrupted. "It's all in the past."
"The past sometimes has a bearing on the future." Margaret took her blue wool shawl from the clothes tree beside the door and wrapped it around her shoulders. "That's why I thought I should give you warning."
"That you've written to Ruel about Ian?"
Margaret shook her head. "I wrote to Ruel three months ago when Ian first refused to winter in Madrid. I received word this morning from Edinburgh that Ruel should arrive in Glenclaren tomorrow."
Shock took Jane's breath. "He's coming here?"
"I knew I couldn't pry Ian away on my own this time and Ruel's always managed to get his way with him."
Ruel always managed to get his way with everyone, Jane thought. "What about Cinnidar?"
"Ruel's character must have improved considerably since I last saw him. It appears he thinks his brother's life is more important than digging gold." Margaret opened the front door. "So you must put aside any quarrel you may have with Ruel until he manages to persuade Ian he must go to Spain. After that, you may flay him as you see fit."
"Thank you." Jane forced a smile. "But I doubt if I'll see much of him while he's here. Li Sung and I will be too busy at the mill to come to the castle."
"I thought you said the mill was running itself?" Then Margaret shrugged. "Very well, if you wish to hide at the mill, I have no objection."
"I'm not hiding. I'm merely—"
"Avoiding him." Margaret stopped beside the hitching rail where Bedelia was tied. "I doubt he will let you. He inquires very pointedly about your doings in every letter."
Jane's eyes widened. "You never told me."
"There was no need to discuss him if you did not wish it. However, he had a right to ask questions about Glenclaren and its inhabitants, since he was paying the piper." She glanced around the newly paved courtyard and then to the repaired and rebuilt outbuildings. "And he's paid him very well, indeed. The money he's been sending has kept Glenclaren alive and thriving and that means Ian has thrived." She turned back to Jane. "You're going back to the mill now?"
"Unless you wish me to stay."
"Why should you stay? I know you have no liking for the castle. It was no surprise to me when you moved to that cottage near the mill."
"If you'd needed me, I wouldn't have gone."
"I did not need you." Margaret smiled faintly. "But I miss you. Why do you look so surprised? We are friends, are we not?"
"Yes." But Margaret had never said those words before, and it indicated how disturbed she was that she uttered them now. They had formed a strong bond in their efforts to save Ian and Glenclaren, but Margaret guarded her core of privacy as rigidly as Jane did her own and would allow no one too close. Perhaps she should have stayed at the castle and tried to make Margaret's lot easier. Margaret was so strong, Jane sometimes forgot what tremendous problems the other woman had to overcome. It was she, not Ian, who was the guiding force behind everything that happened at Glenclaren, but she never let her husband see it. She had nursed Ian, bullied him, and by sheer force of will gotten him to the point where he could sit up in bed and, infrequently, in his chair. Two years before she had sent for the vicar and insisted the wedding take place. "I'll come back to the castle if you like."
"Don't be foolish. You have your duties and I have mine. We would scarce see each other if you were here." Margaret started across the courtyard.
"Where are you going?"
"Kartauk." Margaret's lips set grimly. "It's not enough I must deal with Ian's stubbornness, now I'm forced to try to curb the rutting of that bull of a goldsmith."
Jane smothered a smile. "Again?"
"You did me no favor when you brought him to Glenclaren. Ellen MacTavish came weeping and wailing to me yesterday morning because Kartauk had taken advantage of her innocence."
"That's a serious charge."
"And a false one. She spreads her legs for every lad in the glen." Margaret frowned. "But that's neither here nor there. It's the third time in two months I've had to deal with his philanderings. Does he think I have nothing better to do than listen to that drivel from his leamans?" She clutched her shawl closer about her. "The dratted man needs to be told a few things." Her stride lengthened as she hurried toward the stable.
Jane's smile faded as Margaret disappeared into Kartauk's workroom. She noticed her hands were trembling on the reins as she mounted Bedelia.
She kicked Bedelia into a trot as she left the courtyard but impulsively turned south instead of north toward the mill as she had originally intended.
A short time later she stood on the hill looking down at the ruin of Annie Cameron's cottage. She had gone there only once before, and that had been during the first month she had come to Glenclaren. At the time she had told herself she had been drawn only by curiosity, but she had known it had been a desperate attempt to exorcise Margaret's haunting words about Ruel and his mother. She had known she had to harden her heart if she was to forget him. She had thought if she saw these ruins she would realize the child who lay alone and abandoned all night in this cottage dying of snakebite was not the Ruel she knew. The hour she had spent here had been both painful and unsuccessful. The memory of that boy still lingered in this glen.