Scotch Rising by S. J. Garland

my dead wife. “Never say ye are married tae a savage, it is unconscionable!”
    “I was married to a member of the Mohawk tribe. She was not a savage.” A memory of her sitting near the fire, chin resting on her knees. A smile playing on her lips as she listened to her brother, Hania, and I speak of our day’s hunt rose before my eyes. I cleared my throat to erase it. “She was caring, generous and in every way the equal and better of most of the women who call themselves ladies in the ballrooms of London.”
    Philomena lowered her eyes to her plate in surrender. I only needed to expose myself to all manners of torment to cease her disapproval of my person. The hole in my chest where Onatah lived before her death ached in loneliness. I wished to be away from this table at once. I needed solace.
    The silence lengthened and I feared that in my haste to see Philomena in her place, I had completely ruined the evening. Magnus spoke in a low voice. “Is it common practice fur officers tae marry Indian girls? We dinnae hear of such things in the papers.”
    Laughing harshly. “You would not hear of a marriage between an English soldier and a native anywhere in the English realms, Magnus. The practice is common enough even among the French. Women are a rare commodity. I would have stayed with my wife for the rest of my days.” I swallowed before continuing. “Most men leave women and return to England, creating dishonour for them.”
    “It appears ye are nae much better, Captain.” Philomena stared across the table, with hard green eyes. “I have nae heard of a native woman living with ye in the cottage, ye hae left her behind with a bevy of bastards in tow. I should think.”
    I stood towering over the table. I felt Beathan tense beside me, however he did not rise. I spoke the next words slowly, enunciating each one. “My wife is dead.” The harshness of the words tore through the gilt dining room. “She was pregnant with our first child. They are both gone now. Please heap more agony onto my conscience if you think you could reach the top of the pile.”
    Philomena sat back in her chair, shock registering on her face. She was speechless, a state not often experienced by the young lady if judged by the look in her eye. Beathan whispered. “Perhaps ye should retire tae the drawing room with the tea cart, Phil, and leave us tae the Scotch.”
    The footman pulled her chair out from the table and Philomena rose a trifle unsteadily to her feet. She paused for a moment, an unreadable expression on her face. I was sure she might say something. Instead she gave a short curtsey and swept from the room, shoulders square, chin up.
    I closed my eyes, and turned to Beathan and Magnus who watched Philomena’s progress from the dining room with surprise. “I apologise to you both, especially to you, Magnus.” My expression hopefully conveyed my embarrassment. “You must think you invited a brute to come and dine with you this evening.” I retook my seat and allowed the server to pour a Scotch.
    “On the contrary, Captain. I think I hae invited a real man tae sit at the table,” Magnus dismissed the serving staff with a wave. “My daughter is far too accustomed tae having her own way and she easily manipulates the dandies who come calling on her. I do believe she might be in shock.” He raised his glass in salute and drank.
    I raised my own and drank deeply, neither Beathan nor Magnus appeared exceptionally worried over my unsociable behaviour. All was forgotten of the ugly scene and the rest of the evening passed in amicable conversation, my thoughts drifting to the woman who challenged me so fiercely only once or twice.
     

Chapter 5
     
    Magnus used the table to stand unsteadily, waving away Beathan’s outstretched hand. “It has been an interesting evening, Captain. We only dined with Mr Turner on one occasion and I think the poor man wisnae want tae keep company.” His voice trailed away for a moment. “However,