The sky was an opaque gray outside with just a small amount of light coming through the crack in the middle of the drapes as Esme awoke and slowly sat up in her bed

The sky was an opaque gray outside with just a small amount of light coming through the crack in the middle of the drapes as Esme awoke and slowly sat up in her bed. She’d had to ask Jane for about two more blankets since even with the fireplace holding a moderate fire Esme was cold. She couldn’t help thinking that if this was the temperature in November she didn’t even want to think of December and January. Instead, Esme went to the window to pull back the panel and look out as she had done the day before. The sight was still the same, but Esme wanted to imprint it into her mind so that it started becoming more familiar. This was her home now and she had made the resolution that she would find out more about it and make it apart of her.

She rang the bell for Jane, who would already be awake now that it was after seven o’clock, and went to open the rest of the curtains herself. Esme wasn’t a ‘morning person’ by any means, as many of her peers she usually awoke at noon, but the night before she had went to bed early, besides not drinking more than one glass of wine with her meal, and felt amazing because of it. Now that she didn’t have the occupation of running riot through the streets of London, Esme thought making the change couldn’t be so difficult.

Surprisingly, Jane rushed into Esme’s room far sooner than her mistress had expected, and spoke in between breaths.

“Milady…Your Grace…are you alright...oh my goodness…I thought something had happened to you…the bell rang…so early.” Esme laughed at the humour in the situation, since Jane had a flare for the dramatic.

“Nothing amiss, Jane, other than I woke up a trifle early. All I wish for is to get dressed to go down to breakfast.” Jane stuttered for a few moments collecting herself, and Esme laughed again. It was the first in a long time, since the night her father sealed her fate, and it felt wonderful. Yes, Esme could definitely get used to earlier hours.

When Jane returned from informing Chef to set another place at the table, Esme had washed at the basin in her room and was brushing her hair at the vanity. Even though Esme had gotten used to her husband not being able to see, Jane tapped into the large well of pride she held for her mistress, trying to dissuade her from putting on the simple, warm, and comfortable morning dress for something that better befitted her status. Even though her husband was blind didn’t mean the rest of the castle was and she didn’t want all of the servants thinking less of Esme than they already did because she was from England.

When she and her maid settled on a happy medium, Esme went down to the dining room where her husband was standing at the mantle with a bowl in his hand as Mr. Campbell sat at the table reading the morning newspaper. When the door opened, Taran didn’t move as his comptroller stood to say good morning.

“Good morning, Your Grace.” Esme smiled at the man and sat down in the chair a footman pulled out for her, occupied for a few minutes as she chose what she wanted from the dishes presented to her. The room was silent after as Mr. Campbell rose, excusing himself out of the room and Taran remained at the fireplace with his back towards Esme. She didn’t mind since she noticed his appearance was different today.

Instead of the old fashioned suit he usually wore, this morning he was instead clad in a snow white flowing shirt that brought out the bronze of the skin on his face and the broad width of his back and shoulders. Tapering below that was a kilt of what she strongly supposed to be his family tartan; the dark blue, green and black threads weaved together suited him. His hair looked as if it had been washed recently and was brushed and pulled back with a ribbon at the base of his neck. His coat and a length of tartan were slung against the back of a chair waiting for him to complete his ensemble. All together, she knew that he would look every inch the Chieftain he was.

Slowly, Taran turned his face from the fire to stare at the opposite end of the wall.

“I’m glad that you’re down here, Esme, since that saves me time. I need to tell you that I am leaving for Glasgow this afternoon for the remainder of the year. I need to leave soon before it snows heavily again as it takes a week to reach the city. I shall be back at the end of next month, provided it doesn’t snow.” Esme paused the fork in her hand from entering her mouth, instead lowering it back to her plate to stare at him, not believing what he had said.

“This is Scotland, Taran, it snows in April, never mind December, and I don’t have to live here to know that. What the hell do you mean your leaving for Glasgow? Am I coming with you?”

“Your presence is not required as no one beyond the servants here at Inveraray know that we are recently married.” He had adjusted his head when she spoke so that now he was looking into her face, his crystal eyes almost steady with her own.

“Alright, but that doesn’t change the fact that your leaving me here alone only one day after pulling into port. What is so important for you in Glasgow?”

“Not that it is any of your business, but I have other affaires to settle- in person. I will be staying at Argyll House if you need to contact me, and Campbell can give a footman directions if it’s urgent.” Taran seemed to think the discussion was over and went back to eating the porridge in his bowl, but Esme was beginning to get furious, but she knew it would be a mistake to raise her voice. She’d come to realise her husband didn’t respond to anger, but she could wheedle her way under his skin by keeping her cool.

“What am I supposed to do here in the meantime?” This question ruffled her husband’s feathers more than she knew and he raised his head from his bowl with more ice in his eyes than before.

“I will be honest, Esme, and reveal that I do not expect too much from you personally. You have provided me with funds that have enabled my clan not to starve, for which I will be eternally grateful. Beyond that, I do not think we have any mutual interests or occupations. So if you would like to know, oh wife of mine, I couldn’t care less what you did while I was gone.” With that last sentence, Taran walked slowly forward to place his empty bowl on the table and then, picking up his coat and tartan, walked to the door, opening and closing it quietly.

Esme sat at the table stunned. She couldn’t hear his foot steps receding into the entrance hall, couldn’t see nor feel the fire a few feet away from her, couldn’t see her reflection in the mirror on the wall in front her; all of these things meant nothing to her as his last words percolated throughout her brain. She couldn’t even think as she sat at the table for a long while, not touching her food, not wanting to eat. When she heard a grandfather clock chime the hour, she moved slowly from the table, out into another room to go up the stairs and towards her room. Before she reached the door Esme heard Jane barking orders at two maids in the wardrobe on the side of the room as they sorted through her clothes. She wasn’t in the mood to explain anything to her maid, but wanting to be somewhere familiar, she quietly slinked into her room and went towards the chaise by the window, no longer feeling the same way about the morning.

-&-&-&-

“Milady…milady…can you hear me? Come now, you can hear me. I need you to get up, milady. You’ve slept all morning and much of the afternoon. It is tea time now. Come milady, I want you to drink something. That’s it, more now, milady.”

Jane had handed her mistress a cup of tea with more sugar in it than Esme liked, but she didn’t care as long as it made her wake up. Jane had come into the room before lunchtime to find her mistress heavily, but fitfully, sleeping on the chaise but when she tried to wake her, Esme wouldn’t budge. Now that she had missed luncheon, and hadn’t eaten a thing since breakfast, Jane wasn’t going to let the next two meals escape by her mistress.

“Thank you, Jane. I’m awake now.” Esme drank the rest of the cups contents and placed it back on the saucer in Jane’s awaiting hand. Her eyes were heavy and her body ached, but Esme was now awake and wondering what was happening. Jane had said something about it being tea time?

“Good, milady, I have your tray here for you. No sense in going downstairs seeing as His Grace isn’t here to share it with you. There now, milady, eat something. I’ll bet your feeling half starved by now.” Jane had arranged a table by Esme so that all she had to do was sit up properly and let her maid wait on her completely. Jane was murmuring about something under her breath and when she lifted her head back from pouring tea, Esme heard what.

“-disgraceful that he should leave you here alone when you’ve just been married. I don’t know what your mother, God rest her soul, would think right now. I’ll bet she’s turning circles in her grave right now, milady, that I do.”

Jane continued muttering all throughout tea, not expecting Esme to answer, but just voicing her opinions. Esme was accustomed to Jane’s being comfortable and honest around her, but at the moment she wanted to forget she was married. Not possible when every element around her was reminding her about the fact.

“Jane, I am finished. Please, just ask the footmen to bring me up water for a bath.” Now that she had eaten, Esme couldn’t go back to sleep, nor did she really wish to, but it would have conveniently saved her from her thoughts for the next few hours.

As Jane left the room, after she had pulled out the tin tub and bath mat in front of the fire, Esme lay back again and looked out the window. The sky was completely dark, with millions of stars littered across it, and the moon only half full but still shining brightly, reflecting on the pure snow below. Esme continued peering out the window with no thought or feeling, nothing but air floating through her head. She was so numb to her surroundings the creaking of the door startled her as two footmen carrying two buckets each entered the room to pour them into the tin. After they left, Jane scuttled in and immediately started on pinning her mistress’ hair up and unbuttoning the same morning dress she had loathed putting on her.

As she stepped in and immersed most of her body in the scalding hot water, Esme felt herself unfreeze and relax. She hadn’t realised she was so bound up until now, and the heat was doing wonders for her muscles and nerves. Now that her tensions had defrosted, everything from the morning flooded back to her, and Esme’s state of depression fell to new depths. She let the feeling enter her mind and engulf her entire body until it was too late to go back. Not too many people had made Esme Brooke-Campbell lose control of herself and want to just shed her body and become a new person, but now she could add Taran Campbell to the list. Swirling the peaty water around with her finger, Esme let out a sigh as she sat up in the water. Jane hurried from where she was standing aside to wash and rinse her mistress’ back, and Esme let her, feeling the need to be taken care of.

Her bath not as enjoyable as she wished it to be, Esme sat back in bed waiting for her dinner in another hour and pulled one of her books from a shelf near her, opening the page at random, craving a familiar sight. When she turned three pages, Esme realised she hadn’t retained a coherent sentence, despite knowing the story by heart. Placing the novel back in its place, Esme sat back and stared into space around her room, her eyes wandering around and noticing other new things, until her attention was caught on something specific. In one corner of the room, on the side of her writing desk, was a small table with a few bottles and classes standing on its top. Esme quickly scrambled out from under the blanket to grab the bottle of Cognac and a snifter, bringing them back to bed with her, anticipating the solace she would find at the bottom of both.

-&-&-&-

Jane opened the slightly less creaking door to the Duchess’ room to check up on her mistress. She closed it behind her, careful not to let in any light from the hall as Esme was especially sensitive to it in her present state. It had been three nights since she had taken to her room and the bottle, and Jane hadn’t heard from her in a few hours and was getting worried. Her instinct acted with reason as usual as she approached the large four-poster and looked in. Esme was burrowed under her many blankets, passed out cold with her left arm extended to the side, it once having held the brandy bottle which was now rolled a few inches away from her hand. To the right of the bed, where she was now standing, was a shattered glass on the floor. Jane looked closer into Esme’s face and drew in her breath at the circles forming under her eyes and the deep exhalations drenched in alcohol coming from her mouth. The maid brought the blankets up to her mistress’ neck before taking the bottle from the bed. Jane had thought to empty its contents out the nearest window, no matter how expensive, but on second reflection decided to be generous and offer it to the older men servants in the castle’s employment.

-&-&-&-

“Milady, wake up…come, milady, it’s time to wake up now; I’m not having you starve. It’s been too long that you’ve gone without breakfast, and I shan’t have it happen again. Come now, milady, sit up, there’s a good girl, and drink this. It’ll make you feel better.” The morning after taking away Esme’s supply, Jane had brought up a tray of food for her to start the day right.

It took all of Jane’s strength to lift her mistress off her pillows and straighten her enough to help pour a glass of cold water and herbs down her throat. When Esme finished it in one shot, Jane brought her another with a large plate of eggs. Normally she wouldn’t have thought about letting the girl eat in bed, always forcing her at a table as proper or downstairs where she belonged, but this morning was an exception.

“Jane…my…head…and I’m…so…cold.”

Esme handed the empty glass to her maid as she attempted to pick up the fork, but she couldn’t see it clearly. All Esme really wanted to do was lie back in bed and sleep off the very large and painful hangover she was experiencing, or better yet, drink another glass of brandy which would relieve her head and warm her body much quicker. But she knew Jane would have a fit if she even thought about touching the bottle, not that she could have left the bed to get another one, so she squinted her eyes close, turned her head away from the light, and carefully ate the eggs on her plate. After the first few forkfuls, Esme realised she was hungry since her stomach had subsisted on mainly liquor and oxygen for the past three or four nights she had been in and out of her drinking binge. Jane soon returned with coffee instead of the water, but Esme didn’t particularly care since her body was crying out for anything that wasn’t alcoholic. When she finished the cup and the rest of her plate, Esme handed them to Jane, who had a pointed look on her face and Esme knew what came upon seeing that face.

“Feeling better, milady?” Instead of her usual soothing or chirping tones, Jane’s voice was rather sharp

“A little Jane; what time is it?”

“Time for you to be getting up out of this bed and out of this room.” Esme winced since Jane wasn’t even trying to lower her voice.

“What is the real time Jane? Please tell me for I do not wish to move my head.” Jane made a sound suspiciously like a snort, but obliged Esme and looked at the clock.

“Tis ten o’clock, milady, and high time you should be awake and getting ready for the day.” Esme placed her arm over her eyes and laid back farther into the pillows.

“What for, Jane? Who cares about if I’m awake or not? Certainly no one has come in the room to ask.” This time Jane did snort, barely concealing the rage she was feeling inside.

“Mrs. Archibald is wringing her hands whilst overseeing the house, thinking that you’re sick as a dog, asking me about you all hours of the day to make sure you aren’t dying. Cook has been frantic out of her mind when I return your dishes untouched, thinking that her skills aren’t up to your standards, when in fact, all you are is foxed off your arse and can’t be bothered!”

“Aye, Jane, please don’t raise your voice.”

“I’ll very well raise my voice, milady. It might actually get through to you and make you remember where and who you are and what responsibilities you now hold.”

“What are you talking about, Jane? I was made Duchess of Argyll so that my husband could dispense my money amongst his people. I’m only still here because there is no where else I am wanted.” Only on the last word did the hurt Esme was feeling escape through, but the rest of her speech was made in a neutral tone, as if reading a novel or someone else’s biography.

“You’re the new Duchess, milady, and you have weighty responsibilities now here in the castle and in the town. Mr. Campbell is anxious for you to review the new housemaids so that he can employ them permanently, and Mrs. Campbell is itching to have you take a tour down in the village. Those are just a few of your numerous duties, milady, and the sooner you take charge with the master gone and establish your position, the better off for everyone all around.”

Esme removed her arm off her eyes and looked into Jane’s face for the first time, since she actually had been listening to her maid’s very truthful words.

“I don’t feel well, Jane.” She returned her arm since the brief glimpse of light sent lightening bolts into her brain. Jane still managed to hear her words, and catch the full understanding of them.

“Don’t worry about what’s not in front of your face at present. You’ll feel fit as a fiddle when I’m through with you, milady, and by luncheon time. I couldn’t very well let the staff see you in this state, some already getting the idea you’re a hard drinking, stuck up Englishwoman. Just this morning, I overheard the butcher telling Cook that the town was upset they hadn’t as yet seen you around, and many of the women awfully want to meet you. Would you also like me to tell you the sacrifice Cook made in giving you so many eggs, milady? Not to mention the herbs, many of which she was saving for Christmas dinner. Its winter, if you haven’t noticed and those’re precious ingredients nowadays. And the tea and coffee you’re drinking come from your own personal stash which can’t be replaced as quickly or cheaply as in London, milady. We’ll have to use it sparingly if you don’t want to run out before winter is over.”

Every word made Esme’s mind and heart feel guiltier than she had the second before. Jane was right and speaking common sense. She did need to get out of bed and out of her room and at least pretend that she belonged there. Now that Taran was gone for a month or more, they looked to her as their new Duchess and their Chieftain’s wife to give them direction. Amazed how she could comprehend all of that so quickly, Esme turned to Jane and slowly lifted her arm down from her face completely. She immediately wished she hadn’t since she saw the disappointment in her maid’s eyes. Next to David, Jane was the only person who knew her mother well and whom she had had an influence on, making Esme crave every scrap of the similarities.

“Milady, why are you doing this to yourself? The last time you became this way, it was after your engagement ended with Lord Ch-” Esme’s reflexes had returned to her sharp as ever and she clutched at Jane’s wrist before she could finish the name.

“Please, I told you never to speak of that time, Jane. Let’s not talk about the past.”

“I just can’t help remembering, milady, especially since Doctor didn’t think you’d pull through that time. But back then, you were younger, and this time you didn’t mix wines or drink for so long.”

Esme smiled painfully at Jane, trying to forget that time since she did remember the doctor saying the odds were against her living. Jane returned the smile, only hers genuine, before she turned around to get her mistress another cup of coffee, indulging Esme with a teaspoon of honey. Jane was still angry, but gathered her mistress reasons for going the slippery road down the brandy bottle, not that she agreed with how the girl chose to deal with the problems. As she watched Esme sip her coffee, Jane revealed a waiting bath for Esme, which she eagerly climbed into when she was finished. Now, Esme felt herself for the first time in days, and was content to lie languidly against the back of the tin, feeling her pounding headache recede gradually. Once finished an hour later, she stepped out onto the mat only when the water was stone cold, wrapping herself in the warmed towel on the hearth.

“Shall I tell cook that you’ll be having luncheon downstairs this afternoon?” Esme was sitting on her chaise in a dressing gown, drying her newly washed hair with a towel. She looked up at her maid, saw the steel in her eyes, and knew she was defeated from hiding and drinking herself away.

“Yes Jane that would be lovely.” When her maid left, Esme turned to the window while letting her hair hang heavily down her back, staring into the now familiar scenery. She knew Jane was right and that she had a new life to start as the new Duchess, a title not every other woman in the British Isles held.

After five minutes Esme began brushing through her now slightly damp hair, when a knock came at the door. Not knowing who it was, she still called out for the person to enter.

“Oh, Your Grace, you’re feeling better?”

“Yes, Mrs. Archibald, I’m quite well.” The older woman curtsied before she came farther into the room to inspect Esme and make sure she was telling the truth.

“Excellent, Your Grace. You had Mr. Campbell and I worried these last few days, that’s for sure. We didn’t know what to do with the master gone, whether to call him back to the castle or not even, but your maid said she was taking good enough care of you. I’m so glad to see you out of bed, Your Grace, and me and Mr. Campbell would be happy to do anything more for you.” Esme felt ashamed for Mrs. Archibald to be taking so much worry over her that she decided to oblige the housekeeper.

“Actually, Mrs. Archibald, there is something I wanted to ask you about. I was wondering if you would take me into the village tomorrow to see the town. I have only passed through it really, and it seemed so charming then, besides it being part of the castle’s estate.” The housekeeper was beaming now at her new Duchess words, since they had been what she wanted to hear since the girl first stepped foot into the castle. Mrs. Archibald was older than most of the people at Inveraray, and she wanted to ingratiate herself with Esme so that her Chieftain’s new wife wouldn’t want to replace her when she settled herself in.

“But of course, Your Grace. Cook was just about to ask a scullery maid to fetch a few potatoes for the servants’ luncheon, but I daresay I can use it as an excuse to get out of the castle for an hour or so. When would you like to leave, Your Grace?” Esme thought about it for a moment before answering.

“Can you meet me in the entrance hall in the morning at 9.00?” Mrs. Archibald nodded her head enthusiastically before she spoke.

“Of course, Your Grace, and in the morning you’ll be able to meet most everyone who lives in a twenty mile radius. Oh this is wonderful, Your Grace, just wonderful. I’ll make sure the housemaids know their duties for tomorrow so that we can stay as long as you wish.”

“Thank you Mrs. Archibald.” Esme gave her a small smile, and the older woman reciprocated before excusing herself out of the room to finish inspecting the housework. It was ten minutes later when Jane came back and Esme had finished her hair. “I’ve spoken to Mrs. Archibald, Jane.”

“Splendid, milady; while I was downstairs, Mr. Campbell requested to speak with you at lunch.”

“Of course I will, Jane.” Esme made another small smile. “I can see you are determined to put me on ‘the straight and narrow road’. But at least you aren’t like those Puritans who refuse to call me family.” The bitterness was evident in Esme’s voice, and her maid knew that was a very dangerous subject for Esme.

“Nay, milady, don’t worry about them. They’re a thousand miles away in England and can’t do anything more to you. But I’m going to make sure you get the respect and authority you deserve, milady, you just wait and see. You’re a good girl, milady, and don’t let no one tell you any different.”

“Of course Jane. What am I to wear to lunch?”

A/N: I'm sorry this chapter is only slightly larger than the last, but my muse has been on holiday, not to mention I've been playing catchup with work so that I can go away this week without it on my concience. I think (I don't want to promise) that the next chapter is going to be longer. I'm so tired, but I wanted to get this chapter to you all before I leave in less than seven hours. When I come back I'll three end-of-term papers to sort through, so I can't begin the next chapter as soon as I get back in a week, but I have a very good idea as to what is going to happen so it should help me to crank it out faster crosses fingers. So tell me what you think, I love hearing from reviewers and their opinions. Good, bad, or indifferent is fine with me, let me know please. While your reviewing, check out the character pictures that actually work now, plus the poem I've been labouring over this past week I've posted in the poem section of FP. Tell me what you think of both. Thanx for reading.