The Highland Earl

by Amy Jarecki

  By the look in Evelyn’s eyes, she was less than fond of the idea. Why should he be surprised? The woman attracted trouble like flies to honey. “You wait until we are about to disembark to tell me this?”

  “I could never forgive myself if you were arrested and imprisoned.” He drew her into his embrace. “And besides, if for some misbegotten reason my plans go awry, I desperately need you to look after the lads.”

  She pursed her lips. “You would bring them into this.”

  “Anything to keep you from harm’s way, my love. I allowed you to ferret out Dubois, and it tore my heart to shreds to do so. Should the queen cast aside my plea for leniency, I have no doubt she will send me to the Tower directly.”

  Evelyn gripped his hands. “Then let us send for the boys, return to France, and put this madness behind us.”

  “You ken I cannot do that. Thomas and Oliver do not deserve a coward for a father. I will set my affairs to rights or die trying.”

  “God’s mercy.” Evelyn drew his fingers to her lips, squeezed her eyes closed, and kissed him. “The queen will grant a pardon because I cannot live without you.”

  If only he could be certain of her safety, it would mean the world to have his bonny lass beside him as he faced the queen. But he must do this alone. John again pulled her into his embrace. “I never believed it possible, but I love you more than life, more than every breath that fills my lungs with precious air. Please, please promise me you will honor my wishes and remain aboard.”

  “If you wish it, I will await your return, but I will not be happy until I again hold you in my arms.”

  Gazing into her mesmerizing eyes, he kissed her. Then he beckoned the two footmen he’d hired to carry the gold and hastened down the gangway, where he hailed a rickety old coach to ferry them to Kensington Palace. John proudly wore Highland garb, leaving periwigs and silks behind. He would face the queen as a Scot, tossing his courtly airs to the wind. Such a bold move might be folly, but he was no longer the Secretary of State and no longer a member of Anne’s cabinet. She would see him as the Scotsman he was and none other.

  When the coach rolled to a stop, he straightened his red-and-black sash and patted the brooch bearing his family crest—one that had been worn by the chiefs of Clan Erskine for countless generations. With a surge of confidence, he boldly strode to the guardhouse and addressed the queen’s dragoons. “The Earl of Mar requests an audience with Her Majesty.”

  “God blind me. ’Tis the traitor himself,” said the lieutenant. “Seize him!”

  “Nay!” John held up a gold coin. “One of these for each of you. I will have an audience with the queen and clear my name.”

  The soldier snatched the coin from his fingers. “You’ll go in bloody irons.”

  “Not irons. However, if you’d enjoy a second coin, you may relieve me of my sword.”

  The man weighed the doubloon in his palm. “And your dirk, my lord.”

  “If you insist,” John said. “But I must see Her Majesty forthwith. I have gone to great lengths to prove my innocence, and I will be called a traitor no longer.”

  “Payment first.” Each man held out a greedy palm. Once paid, the lieutenant’s coins disappeared into a purse at the man’s hip. “Affix bayonets, men. If he makes one wrong move, run him through.”

  John gave the officer a droll frown. “Charming.” But he’d bought his way through the gates, thank God. The footmen toting the chest followed while the dragoons escorted John through the familiar halls to the queen’s withdrawing room.

  “The Earl of Mar,” announced the steward in a booming voice.

  Queen Anne looked up from her throne, her eyes wide. “Mar? You have quite a nerve coming before me.”

  He boldly strode forward, bowed his head, and kneeled. “I have come to profess my innocence, Your Majesty.”

  “Oh? Do make it quick.” She sniffed. “For I cannot abide the stench of traitors in my midst.”

  Remaining on his knee, he looked up. “I am no traitor, and I believe you were misled in taking the word of the conspirator, Claude Dubois, as to my guilt.”

  Anne smoothed her hands along the shiny mahogany armrests. “Your guilt was professed by Argyll.”

  “A man who has coveted my position for years.”

  The queen shifted in her seat and waved her hand through the air. “Then what is this proof you have?”

  “After I learned of the extent of Dubois’s treachery, I found him at Versailles and the gold he stole, which was intended to pay for duties owed by Kingston-upon-Hull. You may consult with the duke himself. He sought me out before my conviction, asking for my assistance.” John beckoned the footmen forward. “Dubois and his accomplices stole this gold from one of the duke’s vessels when moored in a Scottish port.”

  “Thief!” shouted the lieutenant. “Seize him!”

  Springing to his feet, John lunged for a guard’s sword and unsheathed it from the man’s scabbard. Turning in place, the weapon hissed through the air as he faced the dragoons. “I am no thief.”

  “Stand down,” snapped the queen. “Allow me to see this gold.”

  Panning the sword across the soldiers while they stood with their bayonets at the ready, John eyed each one in turn. “Back away. Now.” And once the men had moved clear to the wall, he himself opened the chest and again kneeled. “This is for you, my queen. The spoils of Claude Dubois’s treachery have returned to England to compensate you for the damages he wrought.”

  The queen peered inside the chest, then gestured to the Lord Privy Seal, who examined the contents. “’Tis genuine,” he said.

  The queen’s eyes brightened. “You traveled to France to retrieve this coin on my behalf?”

  “I did, Your Highness.” That wasn’t quite the full truth, but it was the story upon which they had agreed. Besides, the coin should be used for the betterment of Great Britain, the country John fiercely loved.

  Anne drummed her fingers. “I could take this gold and still have you thrown in the Tower.”

  “Aye, you could. But what of our history? For eleven years I acted as your loyal subject. I have supported you in your every endeavor. I have never once given you cause to believe me unfaithful. Why would you now take the word of a miscreant Frenchman, sent here to spy on all of us with intent to seize your kingdom for Louis?” John looked to the gold and frowned, then stared Anne in the eye. “Such allegations against me simply do not hold water.”

  Anne let out a long sigh. “You have no idea how many nights I lay awake wondering the same. You have never given me cause to doubt you, and in light of the risks you bore to secure this fortune for the crown, I hereby grant your pardon.”

  A hundred doves took flight in John’s breast as he bent forward and kissed the royal ring. “Thank you, Your Highness.”

  “Now leave me. I am overtired and need rest.”

  He stood. “I will pray for your good health, madam.”

  “I’m afraid my health declines with each passing day. Soon I will join George in heaven. The good Lord knows I long to be by his side once again.”

  After bowing, John returned the sword to the soldier and strode toward the door.

  “Mar,” called the queen.

  He stopped and looked back.

  “I expect you will want to resume your position as a cabinet minister.”

  Clearing his throat, he assumed a respectful stance. He knew Anne too well not to accept. If he followed his heart and refused, she’d see it as an act of rebellion. “Serving you, my queen, is the greatest honor to which a man can aspire.”

  “I am happy to hear you understand where best to place your loyalties. I shall expect to see you when parliament reconvenes in the spring.”

  John again bowed. “Your Majesty.” As he strode through the courtyard a weight as heavy as the chest of gold lifted from his shoulders. There were only three people on this earth he wanted to see, and one was waiting for him aboard the ship in the Pool of London. With God’s grace, on
the morrow they would sail for Scotland and join with the other two.

  Och, to be a family again.

  Evelyn paced the ship’s deck for hours. She watched every coach that stopped beside the pier, and her heartbeat sped with anticipation as she waited for each rider to alight. And while the time droned past, her heart squeezed tighter and tighter until she could scarcely breathe.

  “Mrs. Hay,” someone called behind her as she continued her vigil.

  “Good heavens, Mrs. Hay. You ought to come in and eat something, else you’ll wear down the timbers on my deck,” said the captain, falling into pace beside her.

  Evelyn gave him a look, suddenly remembering her alias. “Forgive me, but I’m anxious for Mr. Hay’s return.”

  “Worrying will not make him arrive any faster.”

  “I know, but I cannot help myself.”

  A shiny black coach stopped with a royal crest emblazoned on the door. Holding her breath, Evelyn grasped the rail.

  Can it be?

  Yes! The Earl of Mar stepped to the footpath with a bouquet of roses in his hand.

  Tears stung Evelyn’s eyes as she drew her hands over her mouth. “John!”

  Without a moment’s hesitation and throwing all decorum out the window, she ran down the gangway and flung herself into her husband’s arms. “Thank Heaven and all the silkies in Scotland you’re here.” Stretching up onto her toes, she smothered him with dozens of kisses.

  “Why, Lady Mar, I do believe you are happy to see me,” he said, spinning her in a circle.

  “You absolutely must tell me all, and do not omit a single word!”

  He stopped but didn’t set her down. “Things proceeded much as we’d planned. Her Majesty accepted the gift in lieu of your father’s owed duties, mind you, and asked if I wanted my position on her cabinet reinstated.”

  “And how did you respond?”

  John produced the enormous bouquet of Maiden’s Blush roses—pink this time. “I had no choice but to politely accept, but it was as difficult as submitting to a pair of smithy’s tongs. Bless it, Eve, there is nowhere I’d rather be than at Alloa spending the rest of my days with you and the lads.”

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Three months later

  I’ll race you to the first pile of leaves!” hollered Oliver, gaining a head start on his older brother.

  With longer legs, it only took a few strides for Thomas to overtake the little one. “Never. I’m the king of the hill, not you!”

  Evelyn looped her arm through her husband’s elbow. “Are you intending to allow Tom to act so domineering?”

  “Let the lads have their fun. I’ll intervene should they come to blows.”

  Evelyn gave his shoulder a playful thwack. “Growing up with two sisters, boys seem so inordinately rambunctious to me.”

  John arched a tawny eyebrow, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Do not tell me as the eldest you never wielded your power over Frances and Phoebe.”

  She thought back to the many times she’d scoffed at her sisters’ antics or scolded them for their juvenile behavior. “I suppose you’re right.” As they walked beneath the canopy of ancient oaks, she leaned into him. “But I’ll tolerate no bullying and no blood.”

  “Agreed.” John gave her a playful nudge. “Speaking of your family, I’ve received a rather scathing missive from your father.”

  “Truly? After so much time has passed, I had assumed he’d forgotten that you gave his gold to the queen.”

  “But it wasn’t his gold,” they both said in unison, laughing.

  As they passed beneath a low-hanging branch, she plucked the last remaining leaf and twirled it between her fingers. “I do hope Papa wasn’t overly harsh.”

  John shrugged. “Perhaps that’s why we must face bullies from time to time in our lives—so we do not take angry dukes too seriously.”

  “Oh dear, that doesn’t sound good.”

  “He blamed me for purchasing our pardon and said if you weren’t his daughter, he would have preferred to see us hang from the gallows.”

  “Truly?” Evelyn stopped. “I’m surprised he didn’t demand some form of recompense.”

  “Well, he did mention something about ensuring his grandson receives a good settlement upon my death.”

  “Lovely. But grandson? Do you know something I do not?”

  “I stand corrected…he mentioned future grandson and indicated that in his opinion I have fallen down on my duties because he hadn’t received news of any expected additions to the family.”

  She winked, straightening the tartan across his shoulder. Good heavens, her husband was a deliciously braw Highlander. “I can attest without question your duties are being performed quite satisfactorily, my lord.”

  John tickled her ribs. “Only satisfactorily?”

  Jumping aside, Evelyn giggled. “Pleasingly?”

  He picked her up and ran toward a stack of leaves. “What about expertly?”

  “Yes!” she hollered, playfully slapping his arm. “Now put me down.”

  “As you wish,” he said, laughing and depositing her in a huge pile.

  “Heeelp!” Evelyn cried, brushing leaves away from her face.

  “We’ll save you, Countess,” hollered Thomas as the two boys dashed to the rescue.

  John caught each of his sons and hurled them onto the leaves. “She’s mine and so are you! I’ll have you for me supper!”

  In a flurry of legs and arms, they rolled around, spreading the neatly raked leaves everywhere. Evelyn clung to her bonnet and slipped away as the two boys jumped on John’s back.

  She clapped her hands. “Conquer the towering beast!”

  John glanced over his shoulder as he tossed Oliver in the air. “Has everyone turned against me?”

  “I’m the king!” shouted Thomas, climbing onto his father’s shoulders.

  John flung him deep into the pile. “I’m king and you’d best not forget it.”

  A sudden bout of queasiness hit, burning Evelyn’s throat. She clutched her stomach and stepped away from the game. She’d experienced a few waves of nausea of late and fanned her face, hoping the cool air would help. But the churning grew worse. Trying to gulp down the bile, she pressed her fingers to her lips.

  Oh no!

  She started for the house.

  “Evelyn?” John called.

  “I’m fine,” she said, right before she gagged. To her horror, she lost her breakfast on the front lawn, of all places.

  “You’re ill!” The earl raced beside her, panic contorting his features. “Why did you not tell me you were feeling poorly?”

  She swallowed, hard. “I didn’t know I was sick.”

  Oliver grasped her hand. “But you were perfectly well a moment ago.”

  She patted her chest, trying to will the queasiness away. “I was indeed. Perhaps I simply need a spot of peppermint tea.”

  “Tea?” John swept her into his arms. “You are not going to eat or drink a thing until you are tucked into bed.”

  “But—”

  “Send for the physician! Take Thomas and Oliver to the nursery,” John bellowed as he pushed inside the door.

  “But, Da,” Thomas complained.

  “Now is not the time to argue. Go find Mrs. Kerr.” As John headed for the stairs, Swenson appeared in the entry. “Have Lucinda bring up a tonic for an upset stomach.”

  The butler bowed. “Straightaway, m’lord. A footman has already been dispatched to fetch the physician.”

  “Thank you,” John said over his shoulder as he took two stairs at a time. “We’ll have you set to rights in no time, mo leannan. I do not want you to worry.”

  “Safe in your arms?” She rested her head on her husband’s chest. “I’m far from worried.”

  He pushed into her chamber, rested her on the bed. “Under the coverlet with you.”

  “I’m feeling much better now.” She started to rise, but John nudged her back down to the pillows. “I’m sure all I need is a glas
s of water.”

  “You’ve just been violently ill. I’m not about to allow you to rise from this bed until you’ve been examined by the doctor.”

  Sighing, Evelyn pursed her lips. She’d seen this side of John before. “Very well. But I think you may be overreacting.”

  He gave a disbelieving snort. “I never overreact.”

  “Right. And insisting I remain abed for an entire week after I bumped my head when we visited London Bridge wasn’t a tad excessive.”

  John kissed her temple. “It most certainly was not.”

  “I beg your pardon, my lord, my lady,” said Lucinda, entering with a mug. “I’ve brought a tincture of peppermint and dandelion root.”

  “Lovely.” Evelyn drank, then made a sour face. “Goodness, that’s awful.”

  “The worse it tastes, the better it is for you,” said John, smoothing his hand over her hair.

  After she managed to drink half the horrible mixture, Swenson announced the physician. He removed his tricorn hat. “What seems to be the problem, my lord?”

  John stood, gravely shaking his head. “It came on like a rogue wind. One moment Her Ladyship was fine and the next she was on death’s door.”

  Evelyn stifled a guffaw. “Hardly. My breakfast didn’t agree with me is all. I am perfectly fine now.”

  “I see,” said the physician, managing a grave expression.

  John thrust a stern pointed finger at the doctor’s chest. “I’ll tolerate no lances and no bleeding.”

  “Understood, though I must examine the patient before I can make a proper diagnosis.” The man set his bag on the bedside table. “I’d like to visit with Lady Mar alone, if I may. Of course, the maid may remain.”

  John clapped a hand over his heart. “Good God, is it that grave?”

  “I have no idea, Your Lordship. But if I am to give Lady Mar a proper examination, it is best done without you present.”

  “Of course.” John took Evelyn’s hand. “As long as that meets with Her Ladyship’s approval.”

  She kissed his fingers. “I’m feeling better with every breath.”