Temptation

  Nine

  As Temperance neared the head of the road that led into the village, she halted. She couldn’t very well walk down “Main Street,” such as it was, wearing the shirt of the laird. It would take about two seconds for everyone to start talking about who she was and what she was doing—or what she and James McCairn had been doing.

  “Bother!” she said, then turned off the path and headed toward the rocks that she knew were on the edge of the sea. Maybe a stroll along the water would help her think.

  “I found four!” she heard a girl say as Temperance stepped onto a rock and looked down to see a tall, slim woman and a girl just on the edge of womanhood digging for something in the rocky beach along the edge of the water.

  And when Temperance saw the woman, she felt at home because she recognized the way the woman walked, the way she tilted her head. She was one of what the newspapers called, “Miss O’Neil’s abandoned women.”

  Feeling as though she were seeing an old friend, Temperance hurried down the rock. “Hello!” she called out.

  The girl, startled, ran to stand beside her mother and watched Temperance approach with curious eyes.

  “I’m Temperance O’Neil,” she said to the woman, putting out her hand to shake, but the woman just stood there staring at her. “I’m the new housekeeper at the . . . the . . . well, at the house,” she finished lamely.

  “We know who you are,” the woman said softly, but she had stepped in front of the girl in a protective way, as though Temperance might try to take her child away from her.

  “And what’s your name?” Temperance asked, smiling at the girl.

  But the girl didn’t answer, just kept looking at Temperance with wide eyes; then she stood on tiptoes and whispered something to her mother.

  Turning back, the woman looked at Temperance. She was a pretty woman, but her skin had seen too much weather. In another five years she’d be old.

  “My daughter wants to know why you have on the McCairn’s shirt.”

  “I helped him deliver a couple of lambs and my blouse got covered in blood, so he lent me his shirt.” Temperance was smiling, but neither of them smiled back.

  “I’m Grace,” the woman said, her jaw fixed and rigid. “I expect you’ve heard of me.”

  Temperance had had much experience with moments like this. All the women in the tenements were sure that since Temperance was a “lady,” she was going to judge and condemn them. Now she gave a big smile. “Oh, yes, I’ve heard of little else. It’s Grace this and Grace that all day long.”

  The woman’s expression of hostility changed to puzzlement. “But did they tell you that I . . .”

  “That you’re a friend of McCairn’s? Oh, yes,” Temperance said cheerfully. “And does he take care of you? If not, I might be able to help some. Has he given you a snug house? Is it warm? You two have lots of food?”

  “I, uh . . .” the woman sputtered.

  “So do you know why he refuses to marry?”

  For a moment the woman stared at Temperance with big eyes, blinking rapidly, then she grew still and she seemed to be considering something. “He doesn’t have time to talk to me,” she said at last, and her eyes were twinkling.

  Temperance laughed, and when she did, so did Grace. But from the way the laugh sounded, it wasn’t something she did often.

  “So what do you have in that pail?” she asked the little girl. “Is it something good to eat?”

  “Would you like us to show you?” Grace asked softly.

  “Oh, yes,” Temperance said, “I’d like that very much. And I’d like to hear all the gossip. And in return, I’d like to talk to someone about those men at the house.” Grace and her daughter started walking, Temperance beside them.

  “Which ones?”

  “All of them, from McCairn on down. I have to bribe them to help me clean that big old house. And McCairn says that only the horses are worth his attention. Do you have any suggestions?”

  “And why do you want it clean?” Grace asked softly.

  At that Temperance stopped walking. “How trustworthy are you? Can you keep a secret?”

  Grace’s handsome face was solemn. “I have secrets that will go to the grave with me.”

  Part of Temperance’s success had been in being able to judge women. She wasn’t great with men, but with women, she was almost clairvoyant. In her line of work, she had to be. For example, she had to be able to ascertain if a woman really wanted to stop being a prostitute or if she was just trying to get benefits from Temperance.

  Now, looking into Grace’s careworn eyes, Temperance knew that Grace could use some friendship.

  “Are you in love with him?” Temperance asked, for she knew that nothing could be done when a woman said she was “in love” with a man.

  At that Grace smiled.

  “Good, because my secret is that I’m trying to find a wife for him. Heaven only knows why his uncle wants his nephew to marry, but it seems to be of utmost importance to him. And since his uncle has married my mother and taken control of the money my father left me, that McCairn marry has become important to me too.” Temperance turned to look at Grace. “Since you know him best, what does he like in a woman?”

  “One who doesn’t bother him with her problems,” Grace said quickly, and Temperance could detect bitterness in her voice.

  “I see. I take it that means you get no cozy little house with a table full of food.”

  “Hmph!” Grace said in answer, then pointed to a lone cottage set halfway up the mountain. “It used to be a sheepherder’s hut.”

  “But he does keep the place in good repair for you, doesn’t he?” she asked.

  “I don’t expect it of him,” Grace said in answer, then seemed to need to defend herself. “I was an orphan in Edinburgh and my husband brought me here, but he drowned three years ago and after that I had no one. And I had young Alys to care for, so what was I to do? There’s no money to be made here, and I have no skills, and—”

  Temperance put her hand on the woman’s shoulder. “You wouldn’t know how to cook, would you?”

  “As well as anyone,” she said cautiously.

  “Then you shall come live with me at the house. I’ve just hired you as the cook.”

  “You canna do that,” Grace said, backing away from Temperance. “He’d go into a rage.”

  But Temperance caught her hand. “If there’s one thing I’m used to, it’s the rages of men. I could tell you stories of what I’ve had to deal with that you wouldn’t believe.”

  “You? But you’re a lady.”

  At that Temperance had to laugh. She was wearing the stained shirt of a man, her hair was straggling about her neck, and her skirt was muddy. How could anyone mistake her for a “lady”?

  Temperance looked down at the girl standing just behind her mother. “Would you like to live in the house? If we clean up a room, you can have something beautiful.”

  The girl backed against her mother, but she looked up at Temperance with wide eyes, eyes that told that she’d love to live elsewhere.

  “Well?” Temperance said to Grace. “Do you accept the position or not?”

  “I think I will,” Grace said. “Aye, I will.”

  “Good!” Temperance said, then reached out to shake Grace’s hand.

  Dear Mother,

  I haven’t much time to write now, but I need a few things. I need to know the truth about why your husband so urgently wants James McCairn to marry. My instinct tells me there’s a secret. See what you can find out.

  Second, I need the man’s authorization to hire a cook. He may have to pay her a salary, as I doubt McCairn will want to pay her, since he’s used to the woman in another capacity.

  How is the bride-hunting going? She needs to be a rather athletic person, as he likes a woman who can climb mountains and deal with sheep.

  By the way, I think I may have made a friend here. And, oh, yes, McCairn and I delivered twin lambs.

  Yours in love,
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  Temperance

  As Temperance looked at the letter, she smiled at the last sentence. Let her mother figure that one out!

  “You did what?!” James McCairn bellowed at Temperance over the dinner table. “You hired who to be the cook?”

  “Grace,” Temperance said calmly. He was standing, but she remained sitting. “Would you like more potatoes?”

  “No, you interfering woman, I don’t want more bloody potatoes. I want that woman out of my house.”

  Temperance put a big mouthful of the buttery potatoes into her mouth. “Too bad. They’re delicious. Not only is Grace a great cook, she’s also a fount of knowledge. She knows how to get food from the village. She knows who has cows and can supply butter and—”

  “I want her out! Do you understand me?”

  Temperance looked up at him in wide-eyed innocence. “And why is that?”

  “She is— You don’t know but she’s—”

  “A woman of low moral character because you go to bed with her without the benefit of marriage? Or is it not just you but all the men in the village who don’t have wives?”

  At that James looked almost shocked. “She does not—”

  “Oh, then it’s just you?” Temperance said.

  James sat down and stared at her. “You are a cool one,” he said, looking at her in speculation.

  “Why? Because I can understand what she’s been through and why she’s had to do what she’s done? More beans? No?” She put the bowl down and looked at him. “All right, what better way to take this little sin from the village than to put her to work under your watchful eye?”

  James’s lips narrowed as he leaned toward her. “But I don’t want this ‘little sin,’ as you call it, taken from the village. I want to keep this particular sin.”

  “Is that your personal opinion or the opinion of all the villagers, women included?”

  “The women don’t count,” James said quickly. “At least not in this matter.”

  “But this is the very heart of women’s matters. And do you want everyone to know that you fired Grace because you could get in bed with her but you wouldn’t allow her into your kitchen?”

  “How about if I send you back to my uncle with a note pinned to your chest saying, ‘No thanks’?”

  “You could do that, but then there’d be no more meals like this one and the rats would soon be back in the house and no one would take pasties up to you on the hill and—”

  When James leaned back in his chair, Temperance knew that she’d won. He was going to allow Grace to stay. “Now what am I to do for my . . . needs?” he asked softly.

  “Get a wife?” Temperance said sweetly. “You could always marry Grace, you know. Nice woman.”

  “You’re beginning to sound like my uncle. And why are you so interested in my marrying anyone?”

  “What woman isn’t interested in marriage?” she said quickly. “When I heard that poor woman’s story, my heart went out to her. You should hear about what she’s been through, being orphaned as a child, then falling madly in love with—”

  She broke off because James got up from the table and left the room, and Temperance smiled. Years ago a man had shouted at her that she’d ruined his life. She’d told him the sad story of why his mistress had been driven into prostitution, and it had made him feel so sorry for her that he’d not been able to go to bed with her again.

  However, the story had a bad ending, because the next day his former mistress shouted at Temperance that she should mind her own business and save only those people who wanted to be saved and that now she was going to have to find another rich gentleman to take care of her. From that Temperance had learned to help only the women who wanted to be helped.

  And, happily, Grace, who had taken over the kitchen as though she’d always been there, had wanted help.

  Ten

  “Reverend,” Temperance said, smiling, as she opened the door to the powerful knock. “How nice that you should call on us and—”

  The man, short and built like the bull he resembled, pushed past her to enter the hallway. Except that he was wearing the robe of a clergyman, Temperance would never have guessed him to be a man of the cloth. He looked more like the man who delivered ice to her house in New York.

  “You’ll not be bringin’ your immoral city ways to McCairn,” the man said as he glared at Temperance, then looked her up and down in a way that made her want to slap his heavy-jowled face.

  “I beg your pardon,” she said, but she knew exactly what the man was after. This wasn’t the first time that a man had hidden behind the trappings of the church as he tried to force her to his own will. Temperance knew he was after Grace, and Temperance was going to defend her new friend with her life if she had to.

  The man raised his arm and pointed toward the back of the house. “You have brought immorality into this house. You have—”

  Temperance was still smiling, but it was an icy smile. “I assume that you mean Grace.”

  “Yes. You should pray for Grace.”

  “She can do her own praying, and she’s a great deal better off here than where she was.”

  At that the man looked at Temperance as though she’d lost her mind. “Gavie’s Grace?” he said at last.

  It took Temperance a moment to figure out that Gavie must have been Grace’s husband’s name. “Isn’t Grace what we’re talking about? About her and James McCairn?”

  “I know nothing about Grace and James McCairn,” the man said, tight-lipped.

  Talk about hiding your head in the sand! Temperance thought, then leaned toward the man. “What are you angry about?”

  “You! You do not attend church services. Your skirts are indecently short! The women in this village are beginning to want to imitate you. Soon we’ll have—”

  “Women who drive cars! Smoke cigarettes. Control their own money! Women who speak their own minds!”

  When she finished speaking, she was nose to nose with the man. There was anger flashing in his little eyes, and she was so close she could see the hairs in his nose vibrating as he took deep, angry breaths.

  “You will regret speaking to me in this manner,” the man said, then turned on his heel and left the house.

  For a moment Temperance stood in the entrance hall glaring at the closed door. What an odious little man, she thought; then she turned when she heard a sound behind her. Grace stood there, flour in her hair, watching Temperance.

  “What’s his name?”

  “Hamish,” Grace said, still watching Temperance.

  Temperance was very angry. She had been attacked before but never quite so personally. “Why was he attacking me?” she asked. “You were . . . were . . .” She didn’t want to offend Grace, but still . . .

  Grace shrugged. “My husband grew up here. He was one of their own, so they—”

  “By default you’re also one of ‘their own.’ But I’m—”

  “An outsider.”

  “I see,” Temperance said, but didn’t really see. “I’m a corrupting influence, but if I’d grown up here, I would have been accepted.”

  “If you’d grown up here, you wouldn’t be the person you are,” Grace said softly, a twinkle in her eye. “I think that maybe Hamish is worried that you will single-handedly turn this place into where you came from.”

  “Couldn’t hurt to make some improvements,” Temperance muttered, then decided that the best thing to do was dismiss the man from her mind. “You know, I’ve not seen all this house. Maybe we should take a tour and see what work needs to be done on it. Maybe I can think of a way to persuade McCairn to part with some money to repair it. He definitely needs new curtains in the dining room.” She said the last with a smile, but when she was halfway up the stairs, she turned to Grace and said, “Tell me, does McCairn attend church services and listen to that man?”

  Grace tried to hide her smile. “I don’t think the McCairn’s ever been inside the church. Not that I know of, anyway.”

&
nbsp; “But the rest of the village goes?”

  “Oh, yes. Even me. I can’t imagine what he’d do if someone of McCairn other than James missed his services.”

  “Probably lecture them to death,” Temperance said with a grimace as she started back up the stairs.

  There were eight bedrooms upstairs, each one in a horrible state of disrepair.

  “These were once beautiful, weren’t they?” Grace said, holding up a curtain of shattered silk. “The colors are beautiful.”

  “I wonder who decorated these rooms? Whoever it was had taste,” Temperance said as she looked in one room at the few remaining pieces of furniture that had once been beautiful. There was an elegant little dressing table against the wall that she thought might be valuable, but, sadly, there was white rot running up the legs. For herself, she didn’t know one piece of furniture from another, but her mother did. Maybe she should see this, Temperance thought. Maybe her mother . . .

  “His grandmother,” Grace said.

  “What?”

  “You asked who furnished these rooms and it was the McCairn’s grandmother.”

  “Of course. The Great Spender.”

  “According to James,” Grace said quietly. “But then, he saw her from an accounting point of view.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It’s the duty of the laird’s wife to take care of the villagers, and the McCairn’s grandmother took very good care of the people. My husband’s family speaks nothing but good of her.”

  As Temperance left the room and walked down the hall, Grace beside her, she said, “I got the impression the woman was crazy. I’ve found things that she bought and hid.”

  “Probably to keep her husband from gambling all the money away.”

  “Ah, now that’s interesting. I thought she—”

  “Drove Clan McCairn into bankruptcy? No, there’s a weakness for gambling in the family. James’s brother has it. If he’d inherited the island, he would have lost it in a bet an hour later.”

  Temperance turned the knob of another door, then had to put her shoulder to it and shove to get it to open. Inside, a flurry of doves made the two women put their arms up in protection as they backed out and closed the door.