The Scottish Bride - Catherine Coulter [79]
Mrs. Griffin continued, as if she hadn’t been interrupted, “Mary Rose, we will leave in thirty minutes, right after we have had some of Mrs. MacFardle’s tea. It is a great imposition, but I suppose that it must be done. You may be my companion, my maid, perhaps you can even set the fires in the mornings. I will contrive to pay you a bit, just enough for the occasional gewgaw. Now, get up, Mary Rose, and put on your clothes. This is—”
Tysen said then, “Meggie, I wish you to go outside and see that your geese have eaten enough. No, don’t argue with me, just go.” No one said another word until Meggie, her step slow, finally was gone from the drawing room. As for Miles MacNeily, he had left to help Pouder back to his chair. Only the three of them were left. He wished that Mary Rose was safely hidden away, but she wasn’t.
It had to be dealt with, now.
“That will be quite enough, Mrs. Griffin,” Tysen said. Then he looked over at Mary Rose as he spoke and nearly lost what little control that remained. She was crying, tears streaking down her pale cheeks, not making a sound, just tears and more tears. The cruelty, so much cruelty she’d endured, mean words that cut deep, and they’d finally cut so deep she couldn’t hide her pain. He’d thought that the careless cruelty simply didn’t touch her, but it did. He wanted to kill Mrs. Griffin, and after her, Mrs. MacFardle.
Rage made him feel hot, strong, and vicious. He was ready to go into battle. He was ready to kill. He strode to stand right in front of Mrs. Griffin. “I want you gone from Kildrummy Castle in five minutes. No longer. You are a malicious, nasty old woman. You and that nonentity of a husband of yours are despicable. I wish never to see either of you again. You are no longer welcome at Kildrummy. Do I make myself perfectly clear?”
Mrs. Griffin, her face scarlet with fury, leapt to her feet, but Tysen very calmly continued, “Get out of my house, both of you. Now. This time, if you dare to return, I will have you thrown out. No—I will do it myself.”
He heard Mrs. MacFardle give a shriek. She was late with the tea tray, he realized, at least five minutes late. A clean sweep, then. He turned to see her trying to hold the tray and commiserate at the same time with Mrs. Griffin. He said, “Mrs. MacFardle, you will leave Kildrummy Castle. Perhaps Mrs. Griffin would like you to accompany her back to Edinburgh. I believe she needs a companion, a scullion, a maid, and a valet. You could, I doubt not, fill each and every one of those roles for her. Perhaps she will even pay you a pittance to buy some gewgaws.”
He heard a sound from Pouder, but when he looked over at the old man, his chin was still on his chest.
Once the drawing room was empty of Mrs. Griffin and Mrs. MacFardle, he closed and locked the door. He went to Mary Rose, who was looking up at him, sniffing, rubbing her hands over her eyes. He was still shuddering from the ferocious rage that had come from the deepest part of him. “I’m so very sorry, Mary Rose. I should never have allowed that miserable old witch to continue her vicious tirade for as long as I did. I should never have allowed her to remain when she dared to come back here again.
“Oh, my dear, please forgive me. I was blind, quite blind. But it won’t happen again. Also, Mrs. MacFardle will be leaving. She and Mrs. Griffin belong together.”
He sat down beside her, simply because he couldn’t stand that awful pain he saw in her eyes. “Mary Rose,” he said, and pulled her onto his lap. He rocked her, then just held her, his cheek against the top of her head. “It will be all right now. I’ll take care of you. There will be no more cruelty, no more spite. Trust me, all right?”
She said nothing, just lay limply against him. They sat quietly for a very