Temptation

Four days, Temperance thought as she dipped the mop into the bucket. For the most horrible four days of her life, she had cleaned and scrubbed until her hands were raw and cracked.

“You want somethin’ powerful bad, don’t you?” the maid, Grissel, said at the end of the first day, after she’d watched Temperance attack the kitchen with, first, broom, then mop, then a knife when ancient encrustations wouldn’t come off.

Temperance didn’t say anything to anyone except to give orders. Her one and only goal was to get out of this horrible place and away from these people, whom she did not like. The men in the stable yard smirked at her as though she were the biggest joke they had ever seen. The two ancient maids stood back and watched her as though she were there for their entertainment.

But no matter what Temperance said, no one made any effort to help her clean up the filthy old house.

As for James McCairn, she hadn’t seen him since the morning she awoke in his bed.

“Maybe he’s with Grace,” said one of the maids with a shrug, as though it meant nothing.

For all that Temperance had spent her adult life working with distressed women, she couldn’t help being shocked at this open sinning. Wasn’t the countryside supposed to be full of wholesome people who believed in right and wrong?

And what about this poor woman, Grace, who had been forced into being the man’s mistress? What misfortunes had befallen her that she had to take this way out?

On the second day that Temperance was in the house of James McCairn, the wagonload of goods arrived from her mother, and with it the trunks full of her clothes.

Temperance had never felt such joy in her life as when she saw those trunks, for she’d been wearing her never-dry traveling clothes since she’d arrived. There were also three huge wooden tubs full of melting ice, and inside were parcels wrapped in cheesecloth and paper. There were two crates full of vegetables and fruits, even a few bottles of wine.

Of course all the people who “worked” at the McCairn house gathered around when the wagon arrived and peered inside in curiosity.

“Is that beef?” asked a man she now knew was named Aleck, his tone casual, as though he didn’t care what was in the wagon.

Temperance was already tired and fed up, and she had no courtesy left inside her. “You want some, you help me,” she said in a tone that would take no argument.

In the next second, she was brushed aside as the three stablemen began to pull the big parcels from the tubs of ice. But when the men left her trunks in the wagon, she stood there with her hands on her hips and glared at the back of them so hard that they turned around.

Manus pulled a heavy trunk to the edge of the wagon, then bent and slid it onto his back. “Where you want it?” he said to Temperance.

“She’s stayin’ in the queen’s bedroom,” old Eppie said, amusement in her voice.

At that Temperance looked aghast. That horrid old room she’d found after that first night was the queen’s bedroom? What queen? she wondered. Which century?

The other men took the remaining trunks inside, then carried them up the stairs to the dirty bedroom that Temperance had made her own. There was an empty room off the kitchen that Grissel called the housekeeper’s room, but Temperance refused to stay in there with the broken window and absence of furniture. So she’d found a room upstairs that had an old four-poster bed, and she’d fallen into it at night, too tired to care whether it was clean or not.

“Only four of the others stayed this long,” Ramsey said softly to Temperance after the others had entered the house.

“Four other what?” she asked.

“Housekeepers,” the boy said. He was as tall as Temperance, so she looked him directly in the eyes. “Most of ’em left after the first day. When will you leave?”

“When I finish my job,” she said quickly, then clamped her lips shut.

“Ah. . . .” the boy said. “So you do have a reason for being here. Do you want to—”

“So help me, if you ask me if I want to marry McCairn, I’ll deck you right here.”

At that the boy smiled in such a way that Temperance knew that someday he was going to cause a lot of problems to a lot of females. She narrowed her eyes at him. “Do you think you know how to wash kitchen floors, or must there be horse manure spread on it before you Scots males will wash it?”

Ramsey lifted his hands, palms up, in surrender. “Only two housekeepers ever washed anything.”

“Then it must have been years ago,” she snapped at him before returning to the house.

Inside the wagon was another letter from her mother, informing her daughter that Miss Charmaine Edelsten would be arriving in two days.

She knows her role and about the secrecy, her mother wrote. I believe you will find that she is exactly what you asked me for.

At that Temperance had to think about what she had asked for in a wife for a man she’d never met. Ah, yes: pretty, not too smart, and little to no education. Now, looking about the place, Temperance hoped the young woman was nearsighted as well.

So for the next two days, Temperance scrubbed and cleaned and scraped as best she could. She ordered the three men, two old women, and the boy about as much as they would allow her, and she paid them with the beef her mother had sent. And it seemed that her mother was right, that the way to get a man to move was through his stomach.

Temperance thought about this as she took the sharp edge of an axe to the kitchen table to scrape off the hardened bits. Maybe when she returned to New York, she could use this knowledge to get some funding from some of the more difficult residents of the city. Or maybe she should use this technique on the straying husbands of abandoned women.

Suddenly she stopped scraping. What about cooking courses for women in the tenements? Maybe they could learn how to use what little they had to better advantage. Mmmm, she thought as she began scraping again.

It certainly was odd that her mother had come up with this cooking idea. Temperance hadn’t realized that her mother could be of help in some situations. In her eyes, since she was fourteen and her father had died, Melanie O’Neil was someone who needed to be taken care of, not the other way around.

As the day dawned that Miss Edelsten was to arrive, Temperance began to grow nervous. She’d managed to get four rooms clean: the kitchen, the entrance hall, the dining room, and one small bedroom in case the woman was to spend the night. Of course it was good that the rooms would be lit only by candlelight or she’d see the state of disrepair they were really in.

Although, Temperance had to admit, now, as she looked at the clean rooms, she was proud of what she’d accomplished, and the old house seemed prouder now that parts of it were cleaned.

Standing in the doorway of the entrance hall, Temperance ran her hand along the doorpost. Beautiful, she thought, looking at the ceiling where she could now see that cherubs peeped from around painted clouds.

“This is a house a person could love,” she said softly, then shook her head to clear it. She had too much to do to think of beauty.

Now she had to get Miss Edelsten together with James McCairn and . . .

When it came to that part, her mind was a blank. What did she know about love? She’d never come close to feeling that “falling in love” sensation that seemed to make morons of people. Truthfully, Temperance didn’t understand the feeling, and from what she’d seen of it, she had no desire to understand it.

However, get James McCairn together with his future bride, she must, and if the cooking worked with the men in the stables, why wouldn’t it work with their master?

But Temperance didn’t know anything about cooking, and, as far as she could ascertain, neither did the two maids; but, she thought, how hard could it be, especially since she had a set of directions? Using Miss Farmer’s cookbook that her mother had given her, Temperance sat down and—using the steel pen her mother had sent her—she wrote out a menu, then had Ramsey deliver it to Mr. McCairn, wherever he was.

Cream of Watercress Soup

Fricassee of Lamb

Riced Potatoes Stewed Tomatoes

String Bean and Radish Salad

Apple Pie

An hour later, Ramsey returned, breathless, to say that the McCairn would be here for dinner as soon as it was dark. The boy then pulled a cute little lamb from across his saddle and tossed it into her arms. “For dinner,” he said, then turned the big horse he was riding and rode away.

Temperance looked at the lamb, it licked her face a couple of times, then she set it down on the clean stones in front of the stables, but it followed her into the kitchen. When the lamb looked up at her with big eyes, she poured out a bowl of milk and set it before the tiny thing.

Temperance took her copy of the menu for that night, crossed out “Fricassee of Lamb” and wrote, “Salmon with Cucumber Sauce,” then called to Ramsey to find a fishing pole and bring her back a fish.

Temperance then set about figuring out how to follow a recipe.

By the time the sun set and James McCairn arrived for dinner, Temperance was in a bad temper and quite nervous. Where was the woman her mother was sending? she kept wondering. Had she encountered the residents of Midleigh and given up? If no woman ever showed up, then Temperance would never get a wife for McCairn, so she’d never get out of this place. She’d spend her life living with these people who thought she was a joke. Or would she have to return to Edinburgh and live under the rule of Angus McCairn?

When James entered the kitchen, slamming the door open and letting in a great draft of wind, she snapped at him. “Close that door! And why did you come in through the kitchen? Don’t you know that you’re the laird, so you’re supposed to enter through the front door?”

“I thought you said you weren’t applying to be my wife,” he said, his voice amused.

Temperance couldn’t help but laugh. She had on an apron, but she still had flour and pieces of salmon skin on her clothes. One thing was for sure: She wouldn’t be giving cooking lessons.

For a moment James stood blinking at the kitchen as though he’d never seen the room before. There was a fire in the hearth of the huge old fireplace, and the old oak table in the middle of the room was sparkling clean and laid out with an array of pots filled with food.

“Is that the dinner I sent you?” he asked, looking at the lamb sleeping on a sheepskin at one side of the hearth.

“More or less.” Temperance ducked her head so he wouldn’t see her red face. What kind of housekeeper couldn’t deal with slaughtering animals for the table?

The room seemed large, but when he was in it, it seemed to shrink. He was muddy and he was wearing his ratty old kilt, but maybe the woman who was coming—if she ever got here—would think his bare knees were romantic.

“Dinner will be served in the dining room,” she said, turning her back on him as she picked up a tureen of soup and carried it through the door.

After setting the tureen down on the table in the dining room, she turned around to see him standing in the doorway, his big body filling it. His mouth was open in astonishment as he looked about the room.

“How’d you do this?” he asked, meaning the clean room, the silver candlesticks, the beautifully laid, clean table, the fire glowing in the grate.

“The men helped,” she said brusquely as she started to go back into the kitchen, but he blocked her way.

“Why is there only one place setting? And where did you find the dishes?”

“If I told you, you wouldn’t believe me,” she said in exasperation.

“I have nothing else to do but listen,” he said quietly, looking down at her. “And I can’t eat alone. At least not fricassee of lamb.”

It suddenly went through Temperance how much she’d like to have a conversation with a person. All she’d said since she’d come to this awful place was, Get me this, Do that, Move those. And she was tired. She wanted to get off her feet and sit down for a while. And if the idiot woman ever did show up, Temperance could certainly excuse herself.

“All right,” she said. “I’ll join you.”

“Behind the cabinet?” James asked as he finished the last of the salmon.

“I could see that the bottom wasn’t as deep as the top of the cabinet, so I knew there was some hidden space. Young Ramsey used a crowbar to pull out the boards and the dishes were inside. They’re Wedgwood.”

“Worth anything?” he asked, picking up his bread-andbutter plate and holding it up to the light.

“Depends on the pattern and the age. These are in pristine condition, so they might bring something. Why do you think they were hidden like that?”

He took a sip of the wine that Temperance’s mother had sent. “My grandmother loved to spend money.” He looked away when he said it, and his lips were tight. After a moment, he looked back at her. “When I was a boy my father told us kids she’d bought things and hidden them so her husband wouldn’t find them.”

“I had a friend like that,” Temperance said. “She was thirty-five years old and unmarried because her father had turned down eleven suitors for her hand, so she . . . Well, she bought things.”

“You women do have a way of hurting us men,” he said with some bitterness.

“Us!” Temperance nearly came out of her seat. “If you had any idea of the things I’ve seen, of what has been done to women by you . . . you, men!”

“Ha!” James said. “I can top any story you can tell me. I have a friend with eleven children.”

Temperance waited for the punch line, but he took a bite of green bean salad and said nothing more. “Well?”

“He had an accident when we were boys. I won’t give you the gory details, but he can’t have children.”

Temperance blinked at him; then she smiled. “Oh, I see. If he tells people the children aren’t his, then he has to explain how he knows for sure. But if he lets people think they’re his, he’s considered a great stallion.”

“It is a dilemma, isn’t it?” James said, smiling back at her. “What would you do?”

“If I were the man or the woman?”

“Which do you want to be?” he shot back at her; then they laughed together.

It was at that moment that there was a pounding on the door, and it was all Temperance could do to keep from saying, “At last!” She threw down her napkin on the table. “I wonder who that could be at this hour,” she said as she went running into the entrance hall and opened the door.

Standing in the doorway was one of the prettiest young women Temperance had ever seen in her life. She had a small, heart-shaped face with big blue eyes and a tiny nose set above full lips that seemed to be set in a little pout. Beautiful blonde ringlets escaped from under her turquoise blue hat that exactly matched her eyes. This lovely head was set atop a body that was short, with a tiny waist and an enormous bosom, and she couldn’t possibly have been more than eighteen years old. She was exquisite, and Temperance knew that no man on earth would be able to resist her.

But then she opened that adorable little mouth and spoke.

“Oh you must be Temperance and I’m Charmaine but all my friends call me Charming because that’s what I am and your stepfather said that you were an old maid but you’re prettier than I thought you would be even though you do have lines around your eyes but my mother said that if I never squint or laugh too much I’ll never get those lines but I can tell you that my mother has them but she says that she spent a lot of her childhood laughing so that’s why I never laugh at anything but then I don’t find too many things funny and is he here because I’ve never met royalty before but your mother said he wasn’t exactly royalty but in America where I come from but oh you come from America too don’t you so is he wildly handsome and it’s just too too romantic isn’t it and that’s why my driver had to take a hammer to the wheel on the carriage to get it to come off so it looked as though we were stuck here and what’s for dinner but then the food in this country isn’t very good is it but I mean that at home I can have anything I want but don’t you think spring weddings are nice and do you think the king will attend and is he here?”

It took Temperance several moments to realize that the girl had indeed stopped talking. “Is the king here?” she asked.

“No,” Charmaine said slowly, as though Temperance were stupid. “Him. His lordship. Lord James.”

“Oh.” Temperance was feeling as if her head had been emptied of everything and now there was nothing inside.

“I want to meet him and make him like me but then all men do like me and your mother said that I was exactly what he wanted or what you wanted him to have but then I’m not sure which but when I do marry him I don’t want to have to live in this awful place so I wish we could go over everything before I meet him so I could know exactly—”

“Charmaine!” Temperance said so loudly that she glanced toward the door to see if James had heard her. “Let me do the talking, would you? I mean, not that you aren’t—”

“Charming that’s what I am and everyone says so but I’ll let you do the talking because you’re so much older than me so I’ll pretend that you’re my mother because you’re very like her but you really should do something about those lines at your eyes so I’ll give you some cream I have with me but at your age you really should use the salve my mother uses because she says—”

“Quiet!” Temperance hissed, then put her hand on the small of Charmaine’s back and shoved her toward the dining room.

What in the world had her mother been thinking of when she sent this scatterbrained idiot? Temperance wondered. How could a man fall in love with this?

But then Temperance saw the way the girl walked, with her hips swaying beneath her teeny tiny waist, and she thought maybe, if she could just get her to keep her mouth shut, a man might like her. But, on the other hand, men always went for beauty over brains, so maybe she had nothing to worry about.

As Temperance followed Charmaine into the dining room, she glanced at a mirror hanging on the wall. The backing on the mirror had yellowed, but it was clear enough that Temperance could see the lines at the corners of her eyes that Charmaine had been going on and on about. “Bother!” she said in disgust, then hurried forward so she could enter the dining room before Charmaine did.

Temperance looked at Charmaine, put her finger to her lips, then opened the dining room door. “It looks as though we have a guest,” Temperance said brightly. “May I present Miss Charmaine Edelsten? Lord James McCairn.” Temperance had no idea if there was a “lord” in front of James’s name, but at the moment it sounded good. “Miss Edelsten’s carriage broke down and she saw the lights, so she came here. Would it be all right to offer her dinner while her man repairs her carriage?”

Temperance saw that James couldn’t take his eyes off the girl, and thankfully, Charmaine was modestly looking down at her hands.

“Of course,” James said cheerfully, then jumped up to pull out a chair.

He didn’t pull out a chair for me, Temperance found herself thinking, then reminded herself that his gentlemanly behavior toward Charmaine was good. Temperance had dishes ready on the sideboard, and she was thankful that she’d found the beautiful Wedgwood dishes. However, when she opened the big covered server, she saw that there was no more salmon. She had prepared enough for more than two, and she was horrified to realize that she and James had sat there and talked and eaten all of the fish.

“How about some soup?” Temperance said, then ladled what was left of the cream soup into a bowl.

“And what brings you all the way out to McCairn?” James said in that teasing way that men talk to beautiful women.

Charmaine opened her mouth to speak, but Temperance said loudly, “Scenery! And history! Miss Edelsten just loves both of them, isn’t that right, Miss Edelsten?”

Again, Charmaine started to speak, but James, looking at Temperance, said, “How do you know she loves history? Have you met her before?” There was suspicion in his voice.

“I never saw her before tonight,” Temperance said sweetly and honestly. “But she told me all about herself while we were in the hallway.”

“So, if you don’t mind, let her tell me now.” James looked back at Charmaine, and his face softened again. “Now, where were we?”

Charmaine opened her mouth to speak.

“She loves the history of the clans,” Temperance said loudly. “But then, so do I. Maybe tomorrow the three of us can go walking, and you can show us where the battles took place.”

James turned to look at Temperance as though she were crazy. “What battles are you talking about?”

“I thought there were battles all over Scotland. Clan against clan, that sort of thing. Didn’t Bonnie Prince Charlie do something here? Wasn’t the Norman Conquest near here?”

“No,” James said quietly, “Bonnie Prince Charlie didn’t do anything here.” His voice was rising. “Nor were the Normans conquered here. In fact, Miss O’Neil”—he was nearly shouting now—“the Norman Conquest was in England!”

“Oh,” Temperance said, but when she saw that Charmaine was about to speak, she said quickly, “I bet Miss Edelsten knew that. She’s really a great history person, aren’t you, Miss Edelsten?” But she didn’t give Charmaine time to answer. “I think that tomorrow you, as the laird, should teach us all about whatever did happen in this part of Scotland, and—”

“Miss O’Neil,” James said quietly, “if you don’t let this young lady talk, I will put you on a horse and send you back to my uncle. Tonight. Do I make myself clear?”

At that Temperance took a deep breath and sat down at the table, then gave James a weak smile.

He turned back to Charmaine. “Now, Miss Edelsten, tell me about yourself.”

“Oh no one calls me Miss anything because I’m Charmaine to everyone and my mother says that I’m well named because I could charm the birds out of the trees if I wanted to but I don’t know if I’d want to do that because birds can be really frightening things can’t they and I don’t know anything about history so I don’t know why Temperance made that up because I want to represent myself to you as I am because what with you being a lord and all I know you’ll see right through me and I mean see through my mind that is and not my clothes and oh I made a joke but I can’t laugh or I’ll get lines like Temperance has and I can’t do that because—”

James turned to look at Temperance for a moment, but she couldn’t meet his eyes. Of course he didn’t know that it was Temperance who’d asked for this young lady and that it was Temperance’s mother who had sent her, but his lack of knowledge didn’t clear Temperance’s conscience. I’d never make a good cardplayer, she thought while looking straight ahead at the darkened windows and not looking at either person at the table.

“—and I really would like to see all of this place and especially meet this prince because I wonder what it means when you call him bonny because does he wear a bonnet but oh my I made another joke so you can see that it’s sometimes difficult for me not to laugh when I have such a sense of humor and my mother says that I should write what I say down because I make so many jokes but—”

Temperance turned when James got up from the table. He’s going to leave the room; she thought, but instead, he went to the window and opened it wide. It was a bit stuffy in the room, but maybe that was because she was having difficulty breathing.

“—do your servants call you lord and I was wondering that because I wondered what your wife would be called by the servants who work in the castle but then this isn’t a castle is it but then I’ve never been in a castle that anyone lived in before but do you think they would call your wife Mrs. Lord or do you think she’d be called oh my goodness you are in love with me aren’t you your highness but then lots of men react to me like this and—”

In openmouthed astonishment, Temperance saw James McCairn bend over and swoop Miss Charmaine Edelsten into his arms, then carry her toward the open window. To give her her due, Charmaine didn’t so much as pause for breath.

Maybe men picked her up every day and it was a common occurrence to her, Temperance thought.

“—but my mother says that a man can’t help falling in love with me because I’m so charming that all I have to do is open my mouth and men will love me so much so she said that I might as well become a Mrs. Lord or a Lady Lord or whatever your wife would be called because—”

James tossed Charmaine out the window with exactly the same heed that he would have given to a sack of potatoes. She landed with a surprisingly heavy thud for so small a person.

James then shut the window and pulled the heavy red damask curtains closed, making dust fly up into the room.

As though nothing had happened, he sat back down at the table and looked at Temperance, his dark eyes daring her to say anything.

“I think those curtains need to be washed, don’t you?”

For a moment he turned away, and Temperance saw a tiny smile play at his lips. When he looked back at her, she said, “Do you want your pie warm or cold?”

“I want it quiet,” he said, and they both burst into laughter.

Dear Mother,

The charming Charmaine didn’t work out. Perhaps you could send someone just as pretty but not quite so unintelligent, and maybe she should have a little education. And it might be better if she were a bit older.

Yours in love,

Temperance