A Scotsman's Promise

Chapter 1

Micara DeMonae sat watching the dismal weather through the panes of glass in the parlour window. Outside, in the streets of Dryden, water was running in rivulets through the cracks in the cobblestones and gutters. Raindrops splattered the windows and continued filling the dips in the road to form puddles. It was typical March weather. Around the corner, through the downpour, came a brown horse pulling a black covered carriage.

Poor animal, Cara thought as she watched it come to a stop in front of her house. The horse shook itself and flung water from its mane.

Cara heard a knock on the front door and sighed. Just as she'd suspected, not even the threat of flood from the sky had stopped her caller. She heard footsteps and then the door opening. She took a deep breath and pulled her blue eyes and cold fingertips from the window. The parlor door opened and the maid, Bernetta, entered, a note in her hand.

"Lord Reginald sends his apologies," she said, "but he is ill and cannot venture out in this weather. Davie brought this note and is waiting should there be a reply."

Cara crossed the room and accepted the slip of paper Bernetta offered. After scanning the short missive, she glided through through the open doorway, across the hall, and to the desk in the library. Taking a sheet of stationary from the top drawer, she penned her condolences and wishes of recovery. After blotting a small ink spill on the page, she folded the letter and exited the library, heading for the front door. Reaching Davie, she handed him the note saying, "Please tell Lord Reginald that I appreciate his sending word and that I am sorry for his unfortunate illness."

The boy nodded, and after receiving a small payment for his service, raced through the rain and bounded into the carriage.

Cara's mood lifted a little. She needed a break from Phineas. Though she had told him otherwise, the thought of his boring presence had put a damper on her spirits. She had been dreading another one of his political conversations. Not that Phineas was dull, with the right audience, he was engaging and interesting, and to be completely honest, was considered a fine catch. He was intelligent, handsome, wealthy, and a complete gentleman. But to Cara he was excruciatingly tiresome. 

Without his impending arrival to dread, Cara went to the library and selected an interesting volume from her father's vast collection of books. After selecting a novel, she re-entered the parlour and perched lady-like on the divan. Seeing no observers, she kicked off her shoes and curled up into the corner of the low sofa, propping her book up on her knees. The first page captured her emotions and her mind began to devour the words. Unfortunately, before she could immerse herself completely in the story, she heard the front door bang shut. Her father burst through the parlour doorway.

"Cara!" he cried excitedly, "Cara, my daughter, you'll never guess. I have received wonderful news."

He pulled a wrinkled envelope from his vest pocket. "Read this."

He handed the envelope to Cara who examined the flowery script on the corner. It was the writing of Aunt Gladys. After reading the letter, she looked up at her father solemnly. "You're sending me away?"

He sighed. This was obviously not the reaction he had expected. He sat down on the sofa beside her. "Don't you wish to go?"

Cara toyed with the closed book in her lap.

"Micara, child, you know that I sail for France at spring's end."

She nodded.

"Then you have changed your mind about joining me?"

"No," Cara said quickly. If there was one thing she absolutely didn't want, it was to return to France, even if it was just for the summer. "Papa, I simply wish to remain here. I thought we talked about all of this."