Daring Lords and Ladies

by Emily Murdoch

  “Grandson?” Aunt Davina blurted. “Oh, you mean James. Aye, James has…lost himself. He has never forgiven God for taking her.”

  Elizbeth’s heart twisted. For the first time since her mother’s death, she wanted to cry for her father. How had she not recognized the depths of his despair? Since meeting Robert, her sadness had receded, and she had given no real thought to her father’s unhappiness. Now, with the loss of Robert, the void caused by her mother’s death had crept back. She hadn’t realized how loving Robert had filled her darkness with light while her father had closed his heart to love and succumbed to the darkness.

  Would Robert give into the void that now yawned before him with Daniels death? Daniel’s death was her fault. No wonder Robert hadn’t even glanced at her. She couldn’t blame him, and neither could she stop herself from looking his way. As if sensing her stare, he shifted his gaze in her direction. Her heart pounded. What was that in his eyes? Sorrow. Regret… Hate?

  “They must marry immediately.”

  Elizbeth started at Great Aunt Saundra’s words. She’d lost track of the conversation, an important one. She bit her lip.

  “Aye, my lady,” Mister Haywood said. “I thought perhaps Daniel would have been a good match for your granddaughter Elizbeth, but…”

  Robert’s gaze remained straight ahead, as if looking beyond the room.

  “I suggest Robert,” Mister Haywood said.

  “What?” Elizbeth blurted in unison with Robert’s, “Haywood.”

  “My lady.” Robert leaned forward. “There are other, far better, choices than I.”

  Aunt Saundra lifted a brow.

  “It is clear you have a tenderness for Miss McKinley,” Mister Haywood stated.

  Robert visibly stiffened. “As I said, there are others far better suited for a princess than I.”

  He had known she was a princess, yet that hadn’t stopped him before from pursuing her.

  Ire shot through her. “Mister Matland is correct. There are others more worthy.”

  Both of Great Aunt Saundra’s brows shot up. “Who, my dear?”

  Elizbeth’s mind raced. Who? Anyone, she wanted to shout. Anyone who didn’t hate her.

  “What of Mister Haywood?” she asked.

  “Nae,” Aunt Davina and Mister Haywood said in unison.

  “That would be impossible,” he quickly added.

  Elizbeth frowned, but said, “I— Well, I know other man.” Her heart beat fast. Had that been desperation in her voice?

  Great Aunt Saundra turned to Aunt Davina. “Tell me, who might these men be?”

  Aunt Davina looked at Elizbeth and Elizbeth read her thoughts. Robert is the only man you love. The only man you have ever loved.

  “You two know each other,” Great Aunt Saundra said.

  “Mister McFarlan—Matland—is James’s attorney,” Aunt Davina said.

  Surprise shone on Great Aunt Saundra’s face. She looked at Robert. “You cannot return to Inverness,” she murmured.

  Robert shook his head. “MacLaine and McAllen have probably already told James of my betrayal.”

  “It is likely Mister McKinley will realize Robert is Luchd-Dìon,” Mister Haywood said.

  “There is no time to search for someone else,” Great Aunt Saundra said. “Elizbeth and Mister Matland will marry, immediately.”

  Elizbeth’s throat constricted, but she forced the words, “Surely, you must know someone.”

  “You are afraid he betrayed you,” Great Aunt Saundra said. “Do not fear, child. I know his family. They have been loyal to us from the beginning.”

  “You knew my father?” Robert asked.

  Elizbeth was startled by the surprise in his voice.

  Great Aunt Saundra nodded. “Your father died protecting Henry.” She regarded him kindly. “You were but six. Do you remember him?”

  “Very little,” he replied. “He was…away much of the time.”

  Her expression softened. “He sacrificed much. Now you must do the same.” She lifted her brows. “Elizbeth is a fine woman and quite beautiful. Perhaps the sacrifice will not be too great.”

  “I am unworthy,” he said.

  She laughed. “All man are unworthy of women, but never mind that.”

  “Robert should be allowed to marry a woman of his own choosing,” Elizbeth blurted.

  “But you are of his choosing,” Margarette said.

  “Margarette,” Elizbeth and Davina said in unison.

  Margarette shot them each a sidelong frown. “I do not understand. Robert said he did not really betray us, and Mister Haywood agreed. You should be happy, Elizbeth.” Her eyes shifted to Great Aunt Saundra. “Before all this, Elizbeth hoped to marry Robert.”

  “Margarette,” Elizbeth cried.

  “Great Aunt Saundra,” Elizbeth pleaded, “surely, you understand that much has happened?”

  “Indeed, it has,” she agreed. “But love does not die so easily.” Sadness flickered in her eyes, then cleared. “Bishop Leeds will perform the ceremony,” she said.

  “A bishop?” Elizbeth blurted. “But—”

  All eyes turned to her.

  “But what?” Great Aunt Saundra asked.

  “Father will contest the marriage.”

  “Of course, he will. But given that a bishop has performed the ceremony, it will be a hard contest. Not to mention, your father will have to find you first. When and if he does, by then you will have children.”

  “Children?” Elizbeth repeated, and couldn’t halt a glance at Robert.

  He stared back, shock on his face.

  Children? How could they possibly have children when it was clear he couldn’t stand the sight of her, much less… Elizbeth’s cheeks flamed.

  “Time is short,” Mister Haywood said. “James is likely already on his way here.”

  “We will leave immediately,” Great Aunt Saundra said. “Fortunately, Bishop Leeds’ residence is near, and not far out of our way. Elizbeth may marry within the day.”

  “We?” Mister Haywood echoed, fear stark in his voice. “You must remain safely in Sealladh Locha, my lady.”

  Steel glinted in Great Aunt Saundra’s gaze. “I shall determine where I wish to go, Captain.”

  Silence filled the room. Mister Haywood dropped his gaze. Elizbeth exchanged a wide-eyed look with her sister.

  “But where will we go?” Margarette asked.

  Great Aunt Saundra smiled. “Never fear, child. Henry insisted I have another home—a secret place—in case I ever needed to hide. It is not terribly far. A two days ride.”

  Elizbeth had a day to convince her Great Aunt Saundra—her great-grandmother—that Robert was not the man for her. “What about Aunt Davina and Margarette?” she asked. “They need husbands. Father plans to marry them off, as well.”

  Shame rolled over her when she realized she was condemning them to a state no better than her own by trying to distract her great aunt with their need to wed.

  “I have not forgotten them,” Great Aunt Saundra said. “I know a young man who may be perfect for Margarette.”

  Margarette’s eyes widened.

  “He is very handsome,” Great Aunt Saundra said. “And very kind.”

  Margarette’s cheeks pinked. “I have not thought at all about getting married.”

  “We will discuss it more on the trip,” Great Aunt Saundra replied. She turned to Aunt Davina. “Davina, my dear, I will give some thought to who might suit you.”

  “There is no need,” Aunt Davina said firmly. “I do not plan to marry.”

  Elizbeth noted the way Mister Haywood’s head snapped up, his gaze on her aunt. An idea struck. Uncle Graham had said Elizbeth could trust Mister Haywood, that even Aunt Davina would. That implied her aunt knew the man, before today.

  “Really?” Great Aunt Saundra said to Aunt Davina.

  Elizbeth’s aunt stiffened. “James will not have nearly so easy a time marrying me off.”

  Great Aunt Saundra’s expression gentled. “B
ut he will eventually succeed, my dear.”

  “I am not young, like my nieces. I am not so easily had.”

  “He need only have a man toss you into a carriage and your freedom will end.”

  “And I tell you, I will die before I allow James to send me to France,” Aunt Davina declared.

  Margarette gasped and Mister Haywood paled. Elizbeth glanced at her great aunt to find that the older woman’s gaze still lingered on Aunt Davina.

  Great Aunt Saundra’s eyes turned shrewd. “Is there a young man in your life, Davina?”

  “A man in Aunt Davina’s life?” Margarette blurted with a laugh. “Not hardly. Why, she’s an avowed old maid.”

  Humor appeared in Great Aunt Saundra’s eyes. “I see. Then I suppose ‘tis a good thing I am here to find her a husband.” Her amusement vanished. “But we must be quick about it.” She faced the men. “Gentlemen, perhaps you would see to the carriage. My stablemaster will help you. I suggest we bring a change of horses, as well.” She looked at Aunt Davina. “I will have refreshments sent in. Rest and eat. You will need your strength.” Without waiting for an answer, she stood and glided from the room, the men following.

  When the door clicked shut behind them, Elizbeth surged to her feet. She turned to her aunt. “You cannot expect me to marry Robert.” She drew back at the hard look on her aunt’s face.

  “Do you honestly believe Mister Matland is a traitor?” Aunt Davina asked.

  “I…I do not know, but he doesn’t want me.” Elizbeth struggled to keep tears from her voice. “How can I marry a man who hates me?”

  “Hates you? Elizbeth, you are being melodramatic. He does not hate you. He just lost his brother. You cannot expect him to be himself.”

  Elizbeth shook her head. “You do not understand.” In a rush, she told her aunt what happened the morning she’d gone to see Robert. “Even though he knew the truth, he accused me of using the situation to trap him into marriage,” she ended. “Then he sent me home.”

  Davina’s eyes hardened. “Is that not exactly what you did?”

  “Aunt,” Margarette cried. “Elizbeth would never do such a thing. She didn’t have to trap Mister Matland. He clearly loves her.”

  “I agree,” Aunt Davina said. “But Elizbeth was impetuous.”

  “I-I was afraid,” Elizbeth breathed.

  Her aunt surveyed her with a critical eye. “What, pray tell, did you think would become of your sister? Did you not wonder if we would be shipped off to France while you were safely whisked away by Mister Matland?”

  “I—” Elizbeth broke off. She hadn’t given a single thought to what would happen to her sister and aunt.

  Aunt Davina gave a sharp nod. “Just as I thought.” Her eyes glinted. “When we fled that Frenchman, we remained near Kaerndal Hall, waiting for you, instead of riding north with all haste, which is how your father captured us. We were worried ill over you.”

  Elizbeth’s knees weakened. “You and Margarette getting captured is my fault. Daniel’s death is my fault. Robert has every right to hate me.”

  Aunt Davina released a breath. She crossed to Elizbeth and wrapped an arm around her, then guided her back to the couch. She gestured Margarette to move over, then eased Elizbeth onto the cushion and sat beside her.

  “Elizbeth, look at me,” her aunt said.

  Elizbeth couldn’t move.

  “Elizbeth.” Aunt Davina gripped her chin and gently turned Elizbeth face so that she was forced to look at her. “His death is not your fault.”

  “But you just said—”

  “I know what I said.” Her hand dropped from Elizbeth’s chin. “Do you understand there is much more at stake here than just our freedom?”

  Elizbeth looked at her aunt, but the words held no meaning. How could they, when she’d killed Daniel and Robert hated her?

  “If Father gets France to give him money, then he will declare himself king of Scotland,” Margarette said.

  Elizbeth and Davina looked at her in surprise.

  She tossed her head. “I am not a complete ninny.”

  “You are not a ninny at all,” Aunt Davina said, then returned her attention to Elizbeth. “Many lives will be lost—on all sides—in the name of freedom. But it would be to—”

  “No avail,” Elizbeth finished. “Father can never win, and we would be married to Frenchmen, who would be forced to put us aside.”

  Aunt Davina nodded.

  “We must marry to save Scotland,” Elizbeth said.

  Aunt Davina nodded slowly. “Aye. We must sacrifice ourselves for all who would die in your father’s war, and you know as well as I that Scotland would bear the brunt of his quest for power.”

  “Even if we wed, that may not be enough,” Elizbeth murmur.

  Her aunt’s mouth thinned. “Your father will, no doubt, try another tack, but alliances will be harder won without us to use as tangible leverage, and we simply cannot be a party to treason.”

  Elizbeth’s heart cried out against that truth. Two days ago, she could think of nothing save becoming Robert’s wife. Now, that dream had turned into a nightmare that stretched out before her in one long dark night. But what was her life against the thousands of lives that would be lost should her father’s claim to the Crown ever become known?

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Elizbeth pushed food around on the plate Aunt Davina had prepared for her. At her aunt’s urging, Elizbeth had tried a small bite of buttered bread, but the bread tasted like ash and the butter turned to a cloying, sweet glob that lodged in the back of her throat. At last, Aunt Davina had allowed them to leave the small dining room and they waited in the parlor.

  Time ticked slowly by. Over and over, Elizbeth replayed her actions of the past few days in her mind. Actions that led to an estrangement from the man she’d loved, and resulted in his brother’s death. Anger seared away some of her sorrow, but none of her bitterness. While her heart ached for her father’s grief, that grief didn’t excuse his willingness to sacrifice others in order to name himself King of Scotland. Heavens, he probably thought he should rule all of Britain. When Elizbeth had fled to Robert, she hadn’t realized the stakes were so high. She hadn’t yet fathomed that her actions truly had become a matter of life and death. Other peoples’ lives. People like Daniel. Her father, on the other hand, understood the consequences all too well.

  The parlor door opened, causing her to start. Great Aunt Saundra… nae, Great-grandmother Saundra, entered. Elizbeth must accustom herself to the change. She couldn’t afford to live in a dream world anymore. Others couldn’t afford for her to, either.

  Mister Haywood and Robert followed her great-grandmother into the room. Elizbeth snapped her spine straight.

  “All is in readiness,” Great-grandmother said. “Come. Bishop Leeds is little more than a two-hour carriage ride away.”

  Two hours? That was all the time Elizbeth had left? Two hours and she would be Missus McFarlan. Nae, Missus Matland. The name felt as foreign as did the man. She had sacrificed little in her life. Perhaps that was why she now must sacrifice her dearest dream: love. Worse, Robert had to waste his life shackled to a woman he despised above all others. She understood why he couldn’t forgive her. She couldn’t forgive herself.

  Limbs stiff, Elizbeth followed her sister and aunt from the parlor where Robert and Mister Haywood jointed them. They walked through the opulent halls of Sealladh Locha, Robert beside her. Resentment seemed to roil off him in waves. She felt as if her legs might give way. When they reached the front of the keep and the steps there, she feared her legs would give way and she wished mightily that he would offer his arm. He didn’t however, and once they reached the carriage, he dropped back and let Mister Haywood assist them into the carriage. Her aunt and great-grandmother were situated in the forward facing seat and Elizbeth took her place beside Margarette. Robert closed the carriage door, then two dull thuds reverberated as he pounded the side, signaling the driver to move.

  “The gentlemen sha
ll ride,” Great-grandmother said as they rumbled forward.

  The carriage ride was interminable, time passing both too quickly and too slowly for Elizbeth’s sanity. When they arrived at the bishop’s house, Mister Haywood handed her out while Robert repeated helped Aunt Davina and Margarette from the carriage. Tears blurred her vision as they were shown into a large parsonage, then to the bishop’s library.

  “Bishop Leeds,” Great-grandmother Saundra addressed a tall, overly-thin man in a white cassock. “This is my niece, Miss Elizbeth McKinley.”

  “Your Excellency,” Elizbeth choked out, and tried to ignore the half dozen strangers arrayed about the room.

  Bishop Leeds took her hand, smile gentle. “You are a brave young lady.”

  Elizbeth blinked. Brave?

  His Excellency lifted his other hand to pat the one he held. “The groom is very fortunate.”

  But he isn’t, Elizbeth wanted to shout. He isn’t fortunate, at all.

  Then his words penetrated deeper and she realized the bishop spoke as if he knew why she and Robert were marrying. Did he know? She cast a quick glance around at the strangers, who watched with somber but gentle expressions. Did they all know? She longed to ask, but if they didn’t…

  Great-grandmother introduced Margarette and Aunt Davina. After issuing her greeting, Aunt Davina put an arm about Elizbeth’s shoulder and led her to a nearby divan. Margarette trailed behind. Great-grandmother urged Elizbeth onto the divan. Margarette sat to her left and Great-grandmother to her right. Each of them captured one of her hands. Elizbeth tried to gain reassurance through their warmth but, in truth, she felt trapped.

  “Richard,” Great-grandmother Saundra addressed the bishop, “may I introduce Robert Matland, the groom.”

  Butterflies skittered through Elizbeth’s stomach at the word groom.

  “Mister Matland, I am pleased to introduce you to His Most Reverend Excellency, Richard Leeds,” Aunt Saundra finished.

  The bishop clasped Robert’s hand and grasped his shoulder. “We expect much from you, lad,” he said, and Elizbeth experienced a strange rush of wonder at the certainty that he did know the truth.