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The arrival of Euan Campbell caused a stir all right. For the next week, no matter where she went in the town, she heard about the Laird who had bought the Lachlan Manor. How boats had brought him expensive furniture, but he had no staff. Bettina and her friends were already planning grand marriages between whoever caught him and the handsome man. Even the students had too much to say and could barely focus on their lessons.
It was all becoming very frustrating, especially when everyone wanted to know her opinion. Ophelia wanted nothing to do with any of it or the man that captivated everyone’s attention. It was the same with her friend Marie as they sat in the small dining hall sharing an evening drink before she went home for the night. A musician played softly at a baby grand piano while she told Marie about her first meeting with Euan Campbell.
“So, out of everyone, you had an actual conversation with the man and never told him your name?” Marie sipped her scotch and sour.
“He was condescending and called me ‘darkie.’ I won’t be talking to him anytime soon.”
“I heard he’s well-traveled,” Marie said.
Ophelia rolled her eyes. “I heard he’s a pirate, and there are riches in the coal store beneath the manor. He’s just a regular man who moved here.”
“Could it be that you are a bit jealous not to be the only exotic person in Kamouraska anymore?” Marie teased.
“Oh please,” Ophelia snorted. “I would love for people to stop asking me silly questions.”
Marie tapped a finger against the table. “Still, one has to wonder what makes a man leave the Scottish Isle and come to Canada.”
“Maybe it’s why everyone comes to this place—for peace.”
A deep voice made her look up, and there he stood in all his devilish glory. He wore a clean, white shirt that was laced up the front and a waistcoat. Compared to the new style of suits men wore, his was definitely old world, but it looked good on him.
Marie looked up, and a smile spread across her face. “Hello there. Laird Euan Campbell, is it?”
He held out his hand. “Yes, lass, and you are?”
“Definitely too old to be a lass,” Marie said with a laugh. “I’m Marie Demonte. I am the doctor of this fair town. The most qualified, but the men won’t tell you that.”
He lifted her hand and kissed it. “A woman as bonnie as you definitely are an exquisite lass, and a doctor, no less. I shall be your best patient.”
“Please don’t, that makes it seem like you are nothing but trouble,” Marie answered easily. “Are you, Mr. Campbell? Trouble, that is.”
“We shall see.” He gave both women a disarming look as he held out his hand to Ophelia. “Our second meeting; I hope I may be honored with your name now.”
“No,” Ophelia answered sweetly.
Marie swatted at her and admonished her. “Don’t be rude.”
“Oh, all right.” She took his firm grasp. “Ophelia Pascal.”
He kissed her knuckles. “Another exquisite lass.”
“Merci beaucoup.” Ophelia pulled away and went back to her drink.
“So, Mr. Campbell—”
“Euan, oh Euan!”
Marie didn’t get to finish her sentence before the shrill voice of Bettina cut across the room. She rushed toward the table, a flurry of lilac fabric with a satin purse hanging from her wrist.
“Such informal terms already,” Ophelia mused. “She does work fast.”
A look of irritation crossed Euan’s face before he covered it with a pleasant mask.
Marie chuckled. “Leave it to Bettina to work that fast.”
“Oh, Euan! I called your name from outside. You must not have heard me.” She put her hand delicately against her chest and caught her breath.
“My apologies. My mind was elsewhere,” Euan said.
Without a word, she took up Ophelia’s drink and swallowed a gulp before choking. “My word, that is spirits!”
“Gin,” Ophelia said. “Your fault for not asking if you could have a drink.”
“One wouldn’t believe you were raised in Paris with the way you carry yourself.” Bettina managed to sound cross.
Ophelia wiped the rim of her glass. “One wouldn’t believe you were taught manners.”
“Paris, you say. Where did you live?” Euan asked, deftly changing the subject.
“Senlis,” Ophelia replied. At this point, she wanted him to go away so Bettina would chase after him and she could return to enjoying her drink.
“A lovely place.” Euan smiled.
Bettina gasped. “Are you traveled, Euan?”
“Well of course he is, Bettina, use the brain God gave you. The man is here from Scotland; travel is required,” Marie snapped.
“I’ve been to deserts and eaten at the Sheik’s table. I have taken a boat down the river Nile in Egypt. There is so much of the word to see,” Euan answered.
“Yet, you decide to plant roots here,” Ophelia interjected. His words intrigued her to no end, but she was still sour about their first meeting. “How very strange.”
“You don’t seem to fancy me much, lass,” he said.
“I would have to know you to fancy you, Mr. Campbell, and I don’t plan on doing that,” Ophelia answered.
“That was rude, Ophelia,” Bettina said, outraged. “How could a teacher be so rude? My apologies, Euan, she is practically a spinster, not married or being courted by a man at her age.”
“Don’t apologize for me,” Ophelia snapped. “I may be twenty-seven, but I certainly don’t need a spoiled child to speak on my behalf.”
“See!” Bettina fanned her face. “Absolutely no couth.”
“I rather like her fire,” Euan said slowly. “Paris girls are always so progressive.”
“We can sit and talk if you’d like,” Bettina said hopefully. “I would love to hear more about your travels.”
“I’m sorry, but I must go.” Euan never took his eyes off Ophelia. “I’m sure we shall see each other again. Good evening, ladies.”
“Goodbye,” Bettina twittered merrily, and when he was out of earshot she whirled on Ophelia. “Don’t even think you can pry him away with the fancy Paris talk. He’s mine.”
Ophelia lifted her glass. “Get to the chase, then. I want no part of him.”
“Bettina, what about Timothy Holt? Doesn’t he hold your heart of late,” Marie asked.
Bettina gave a dramatic sigh. “Timothy is much too immature for my intellect. I find I need an older gentleman to match wits with mine.”
“You already heard the gossip and assume Euan Campbell has deeper pockets,” Ophelia assessed. “I’m sure Timothy will be broken-hearted, but his father’s money will be safe.”
“Do try to keep your legs closed for at least a few weeks,” Marie said.
“I was under the impression, she just threw up her skirts and let them mount her like a mare,” Ophelia added.
With a loud humph and a red face, Bettina tossed her hair and moved away between the small tables in the dining hall. Marie and Ophelia watched her walk away and started to laugh.
“That poor man doesn’t know he’s the prey for that little tramp,” Ophelia said after her bout of humor.
“He meant he would be seeing her,” Marie said mildly. “His eyes were firmly set on you.”
“I sincerely doubt that. You heard Bettina—my disposition is awful.”
“We shall see.” Marie took a sip of her drink and smiled behind the glass. “I would say a chase is about to start.”
“I do not want to be caught,” Ophelia said firmly.
“Remember, you miss the arms of a lover. This may be the perfect opportunity,” Marie pointed out. “He is a prime specimen of manhood.”
“He is, but do I want the trouble of him in my bed and Bettina at my throat?” Ophelia questioned. “Her family and her friend’s families have influence, and I would like to keep my job at the school.”
“I wouldn’t worry about that; I have a bit of influence as well,” Marie said wickedly. “They don’t want me, the town doctor to gossip, do they?”
“I wouldn’t want you to do that for me,” Ophelia said firmly. “Besides, I doubt very much that Euan Campbell has any interest in a dark-skinned school-teacher.”
Marie drained her glass. “The man loved to travel. His taste may run to the different flavors of the world. Another drink?”
“One more, then it’s home for me.”
They waved the waiter over, and Marie’s words made her ponder about Laird Euan Campbell. An excited shiver caused her heart to race as she remembered his smile toward her. Was her friend, right? With all the eligible young women out there, why would he settle his attention on her?
* * * *
Sitting in the warmth of the fire while the icy rain fell led to a contented afternoon of reading in her sitting room with a cup of hot chamomile tea. Outside the window, ice built up on the branches of the tree in her garden. Devoid of leaves, the dark bark was covered by a sheen of frozen water that looked like glass and icicles had formed along the bottom like sharp teeth. This was the second day of this weather, and there would be no classes because of the dangerous conditions.
It wasn’t uncommon for Kamouraska to have some snowfall, but more often than not, it was frozen rain in the winter months. The winds buffeted off the coast across a frozen land that was barren for the season. Ophelia missed the miles and miles of green grass that led to the beaches in the summer. Even when the skies were clear, it was still extremely cold. Another gust made the branch outside her window shake and bow even further. If it broke, it would shatter the glass.
Ophelia stood and sighed, knowing her peace would have to wait for a few hours as she made her way into town hoping that a laborer who usually offered services from the blacksmith’s shop could come out and take care of the branch. Under her dress, Ophelia put on a pair of men’s pants she kept for when it was cold.
Buying from mail-order catalogs meant her package came in a box that she picked up from the small post office every few weeks when mail actually made it into town. It was much easier to buy certain things that way, instead of explaining her purchases at the few storefronts within the town. Besides, she liked exotic teas and could order in that manner. The taste of orange and ginger with green tea leaves was much more interesting than the bland flavors sold there.
“I cannot wait until it’s spring and the trade ships make their way down the river,” she murmured under her breath.
In warm weather, the seaside trader market was filled with colorful clothes and exotic items that traders acquired. She fantasized about it wistfully as she made sure her coat was snug. Her wool hat and thick beaver skin gloves Marie gave her were on before she even left. Ophelia could see the benefits of having a lover who trapped animals for a living; there was always meat on the table and warm blankets and gloves.
Ophelia slipped on the stone walkway outside the door, and from there it was a dance of gingerly placed steps to get into town. I really should get a horse. The glum decision crossed her mind, and she sighed in relief when the blacksmith’s shop came into view. She opened the large wooden door, and the warmth of the fires hit her face. She closed her eyes, taking it in.
“Help you, Miss?” A burly older gentleman came up to her.
“Bonjour, Old Ben. I need someone to take care of a tree limb for me. It is dangerously close to breaking and destroying my window.”
The man pointed to the far end of the smithery. “Young Ben is back there, shoeing a horse. Maybe he can take care of it for you.”
Ophelia inclined her head. “Merci, thank you.”
Despite the fact that the town was part of Quebec, most of the people who lived in Kamouraska spoke English. They were descendants of those who had immigrated from Britain and later moved from the main city to the outlying town to start new lives away from the crown. She found Young Ben, as he was called, shoeing a large, familiar black stallion. Close by stood its owner, Euan. Young Ben was around sixteen, and he had been her student for a few years before moving up to the secondary classes. Now she taught the all-girls portion of the school. The young man with bright blue eyes and a friendly smile looked up at her when she walked in.
“Miss Pascal, it is a sorry day to be out,” he said.
“Ben.” She smiled at him. “It surely is, but I wonder if you could help me. I have a branch that will break from the ice and destroy my window if it’s not taken care of. Maybe roped and pulled away from the house so it breaks in another direction?”
Ben nodded. “One of the horses could do that, but it will be a while, Miss. I have to finish Mr. Campbell’s horse. Jupiter needs his hooves trimmed and a new set of shoes.”
Ophelia knew there was no choice but to wait. “Later will have to do. Please don’t forget, Ben. I doubt very much with the wind and icy rain that branch will last the night.”
Ben smiled. “I won’t forget, Miss. I’ll borrow my father’s horse and get some ropes right after.”
“Thank you. I’ll make you a warm cocoa and have your pay when you are done,” Ophelia said. As she turned to leave, she inclined her head at Euan who stood silently listening to their conversation. “Laird Campbell.”
“Miss Pascal.”
The deep timbre of his voice caused a shiver to run through her that had nothing to do with the cold. It was all Marie’s fault for putting thoughts in her head about his interest in her. If she was being honest with herself, Ophelia had to admit she thought about the handsome new man who lived in the manor on top of the hill. She was also a little irritated that now she couldn’t go sit between the wildflowers on his property anymore in the summer. It was one of the things that reminded her of Paris, but now, she would need his permission or that of his new wife.
He would be married off soon; Bettina seemed to want to be in the running for that honor. As she gingerly made her way home through the icy, horrible weather, she wondered if she was more irritated at his moving in or the female interest? Wasn’t it bad enough she had to deal with the Bettina’s of the world? They always managed to snag the eligible bachelors of the world.
Sunset came early at that time of the year and with the thick clouds, it looked like early evening already. By the time the knock came on the door, the winds had picked up, but it was dark. Ophelia wondered if it was even safe to work on the branch. Instead of young Ben, it was Euan. He wore a thick wool coat with the tall collar up around his neck.
“Mr. Campbell, what are you doing here?” Ophelia asked in surprise.
“The tree limb. I told Ben I would take care of it since it’s on my way to the manor,” Euan said. “Makes no sense for him to come out to your cottage in this weather.”
“I couldn’t possibly expect you to do that,” Ophelia protested.
“It’s no trouble. Jupiter is much stronger than Old Ben’s mare; it will be easy to do.”
She opened her mouth to refuse, but Euan had already turned on his booted heel and walked briskly down the three steps that led to her stone walkway. She closed the door against the cold wind and watched from her window as he threw two thick ropes over the branches. Knowing she couldn’t be rude, Ophelia put a pot on the small stove and filled it with milk from her ice chest. When the milk was warm enough, she mixed in her prized container of cocoa and added the dried orange spice she treasured.
A loud crack made a small cry escape her lips and startled her enough she almost dropped the spoon. She put the pot on the warm side of the stove and moved to the window in her sitting room. Her steps were quick, and she peered out the window. The thick branch was on the ground as Euan untied the ropes looping the coils in his hands. He looked up in time to see her at the window before she could move away.
Why am I acting like some fluttery schoolgirl?
The brisk knock at the door made her even more jittery as she smoothed her hand down her dark blue dress.
“All done,” Euan said when she opened the door. “It will make good firewood. Have one of the lads cut it up for you when the weather is better.”
Ophelia looked up at him. “Thank you, Mr. Campbell; how much?”
“No need, helping out a friendly neighbor.” Euan smiled. “Even when she has such a sharp tongue.”
She couldn’t help the smile that crossed her face. “I admit I may deserve that. May I offer the cup of cocoa that was originally Ben’s?”
“Aye, that I will accept,” he answered.
Ophelia moved so he could step inside, and he dusted ice chips from his hair. His body seemed to dominate her small space, and she led him to the kitchen the table that could only seat two.
She poured them both a cup. “I know this is sparse compared to the manor.”
“Have you ever seen inside?” Euan asked.
She sat across from him. “No, but from the gossip, it is decorated like the harems of Saudi Arabia and there is a fountain of wine in the courtyard.”
“I wonder who would say a thing like that?” Euan took a sip of his hot drink. “Hmm, this is very good. How do you give the chocolate a hint of orange?”
“You are a well-traveled man; have you never heard of orange spice?” Ophelia asked.
“I never had the knack for cooking,” Euan admitted. “My ma would be ashamed her son can barely make himself a meal.”
“I love to cook,” Ophelia announced. “Marie will show up unexpectedly just because I say I’m making a lamb stew with fresh bread.”
“Well, now I need an invitation.” Euan grinned.
“Doesn’t it go against your eligible bachelor status to be in the company of the town spinster?” Ophelia asked.
“Being from Paris in this small town, I expected you were one who didn’t care what about people’s perception? I would be very disappointed if I was wrong.” He met her gaze with emerald green eyes that captivated her, and she had to look away.
“It’s all well and good, but I have already been warned away. You, Laird Campbell, have been claimed,” Ophelia said primly and watched his face.
He gave her a surprised look. “Have you claimed me, then?”
She shook her head. “I have not, but the fair Bettina has her heart in her hand just for you.”
“Again, disappointment that it wasn’t you,” Euan said. “Alas, the fair Bettina will have to place her heart firmly back in her chest.”
“She will be devastated,” Ophelia teased. “I’m sorry, I’ve seemed so abrasive. Our initial meeting did irritate me.”
“My sincerest apologies on that. It certainly wasn’t meant as an offense,” Euan said. “In Paris, it was quite usual for me to see women of African descent; I even spent time on the continent. The culture is rich and vibrant, so seeing you in a place like Kamouraska was unexpected.”
“My own adventures led me here,” Ophelia said.
He leaned forward. “Where will they lead you next, Ophelia Pascal?”
Suddenly breathless, she looked away. “I don’t know.”
Euan drained his cup and stood. “Thank you for the delicious chocolate. I must take my leave. Jupiter needs a rub down, a warm stall with hay, and oats.”
“Thank you again for tending to the branch.” Ophelia followed him to the door.
“It was my pleasure.” Euan turned, and it was then she noticed how close they truly were when she was against his chest.
Everything stilled—the air, the sound of the ice on the roof, her breath. She looked up at him, meeting his intense gaze.
“Ah hell, lass,” he murmured.
His head descended, and Ophelia’s eyes closed when his lips met hers—a soft, tentative rub that caused sweet friction, and a wispy breath escaped her. He nipped her bottom lip once, then twice, before he took and demanded more from her lips. She’d been kissed but never with such unrestrained passion. Euan teased her mouth, tasting her deep with his tongue, daring her to do the same. Ophelia was acutely aware of his large hands cupping the back of her neck, and the warmth of his touch seeped down her body and settled in her core.
Finally, he lifted his head and his voice was laced with desire. “Much better than the chocolate. Good evening, Ophelia.”
She couldn’t get words out to tell him goodbye and instead lifted her hand in a wave as he walked down the few steps. He mounted his horse and soon the duo blended into the darkness. Oh, I’m in trouble. She closed the door. So much trouble.