Daring Lords and Ladies

by Emily Murdoch

  “You were willing to murder all these innocent people to get revenge?”

  “I’d have sold my soul to the devil. When the English spy offered to pay me to set the fire, it only sweetened the pot.” The man’s eyes held such intense fury, Gideon knew there was no hope for him.

  Colin yanked his head back. “Ye sent the note, ye sniveling snake.”

  “Just figuring that out, are ye?” Ross laughed, a mocking sound that grated on Gideon’s nerves. “My special thank ye to that whore of yers for shooting at her own kin.”

  Reform was impossible for such an addled mind. “Where are the authorities? I want this mongrel out of my sight.”

  “Weel, the constable and I have an understanding. He’ll be back in an hour. If Craigg’s still here, he’ll be jailed and put on trial.” Colin raised his voice. “What say ye? Do we leave him to the courts?”

  “My boyo was in there with me!” came a shout.

  “He could have taken out my entire family!” cried another.

  “We’ll take care of him!”

  “Hangin’ is too good for him.”

  Craigg struggled against his constraints. “I ken my rights. I’ll have a trial, ye cowardly devils.”

  “Ye’d murder innocent women and children and call us cowards?” A man near the front yelled and threw a rock, hitting Craigg in the chest.

  Gideon rubbed the back of his neck and looked back at the Scot, watching the vehemence. Fear had replaced the malicious satisfaction in his eyes.

  “No. Wait, no. Dinna let them have me. They’ll tear me to pieces.” Ross fell to his knees, his voice now a pitiful whine, his lips trembling. “Please, I’ll take my chances with a hanging.”

  “Ye seem to have plenty of courage when ye’re smacking around a woman or have a paid brigand to back ye up. Ye’re a sorry excuse for a Scot and a man.” Lachlan grabbed the hair on top of the traitor’s head and jerked the man to his feet. “Cousin, it’s time we check on the women. We’ll leave this pig to his fate.”

  Colin shrugged his shoulders. “I feel a mighty thirst coming on and dinna think I want to wait an hour for the constable.” He gripped Ross on the shoulder. “Stay here and wait for him like a good lad, eh?”

  Gideon steeled himself as the three left the dock. Ross’ shrieks were drowned out as the mob surged forward. He did not look back.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “I have drunken deep of joy, And I will taste no other wine tonight.”

  ― Percy Bysshe Shelley

  April 5, 1820

  Glasgow, Scotland

  Lissie nestled into the feather mattress and rested against Gideon’s hard chest, listening to his heart beat as he dozed. Her body was slowly mending, but the physician insisted a full two weeks before they attempted any travel. Her lungs would need time to heal. Exertion of any kind could cause shortness of breath so the trip to Stanfeld Manor would be much too taxing. Exercise would need to be introduced slowly into her daily routine, he had warned.

  Lissie wouldn’t argue. The first few days had been a haze of voices and prompts to swallow the liquids forced down her throat. A dark form, smelling of orange and spice, had murmured sweet words of comfort and love. Gideon. The earl, according to Maeve, had never left her side. The fatigue showed in the shadows beneath his deep blue eyes. Even now, he stretched out beside her on top of the counterpane, his boots gleaming in the candlelight. She snuggled deeper, the slick material of his waist coast cool against her cheek. He stirred, his lips brushing the top of her head.

  “Awake, my sweet?”

  His breath ruffled her hair, and she nodded, eyes closed, comfortable in the warmth of his embrace. When she’d tried to talk yesterday, she’d sounded like a bullfrog. Gideon had barked a laugh, which had made her giggle. That had caused such pain in her throat, tears sprung to her eyes. The poor man had looked as if she’d dealt him a physical blow. Nothing more than a whisper, Maeve had suggested, until she was able to speak without pain. Or Gideon was far enough away not to see or hear her distress.

  A soft knock at the door and the countess entered. “The maid is bringing up a broth for supper. Perhaps tomorrow, if ye’re feeling stronger, I could have a chess board set up.” She bent over her son and kissed Alisabeth on the cheek. “The color is returning to yer cheeks.”

  Lissie smiled and pushed herself up against the pillows. She should be embarrassed to have a man lying next to her, clad only in her nightdress. At least it was her favorite one, made of soft rose linen and gold scallops at the neck and sleeves. Maeve had scoffed at the physician’s mention of proprieties, so Lissie decided to enjoy his closeness.

  “Once we’re home, I have no doubt Sanders will see to every detail of her recuperation.” He stretched and untangled his arm from around her body. “Did Lachlan bring any news?”

  “He said he’ll bring us up to date at breakfast tomorrow. Most of the strikes have been quelled, and the newspaper didna report any new disturbances. According to the butler, more English regiments arrived this morning.” She sat down in a chair beside the bed. “It’s surprising there havena been more fatalities.”

  “Once the leaders are rounded up, the trials will begin.” Gideon shook his head. “I wonder if it would have come to this if those blasted spies had not stirred up the skilled artisans and factory workers.”

  “We’ll never ken for sure,” Maeve’s voice was heavy with regret. “Perhaps something good shall come of it. It isna only the Scots merchants unhappy with Parliament.”

  Lissie sipped her broth and dozed. When she woke, Gideon was slumped in the chair next to her bed. A glass of brandy sat precariously in his hand. She leaned over to remove it from his grasp, but his other hand shot up and held her wrist. He leaned down, brushed his lips against the soft skin of her forearm, and made a trail of fiery kisses to her palm.

  “You’ve already stolen my heart. Will you take my nightcap as well?”

  “I prefer yer heart,” she whispered.

  “You have it.” He stood and swirled the golden liquid. “The question is, do I have yours?”

  With a smile, she nodded and held out her arms. He set down the brandy, slid onto the bed, and pulled her close. His breath was hot and tickled the sensitive skin below her ear, sending goosebumps down her arms. His lips brushed each eyelid, her nose, the corners of her mouth. His tongue traced the line between her bottom and top lip. She sighed and opened them, letting him explore her mouth and tasting him in return. The brandy was sweet with a hint of citrus. Or was that him? Her mind was muddled with passion. It didn’t matter. She whimpered when he ended the kiss, burning her tender throat.

  “Sweetheart, I had planned to wait until our trip to MacNaughton Castle but with the events of the last few days...” He brushed a stray tendril behind her ear and traced the curve of her neck with his finger. She shivered. “Will you marry me?”

  Maeve’s words echoed in her head. Can ye imagine yer life without him? She pushed a glossy black lock off his forehead and cupped his cheek. “Yes,” she whispered.

  ***

  July 1820

  Stanfeld Manor

  “If Mama packs anything else, we’ll need to add another wagon.” He lowered his voice. “I’m surprised she’s not taking Sanders along.”

  “He refused. Be patient with her. She’s arranged the perfect wedding and doesna want to forget anything. There are the gifts for the villagers that she promised on the last visit. And the wooden horse for Nessie and Hamish’s bairn, bolts of cloth for Peige and Glynis.” Alisabeth counted the items on her fingers. “The train on my wedding dress is long enough to take up an entire trunk.”

  They walked in the garden, enjoying their last night before leaving for Scotland. Gideon had suggested, much to the delight of his betrothed, being married at MacNaughton Castle. His sisters would arrive by the end of the month, and the wedding would be held in early August. Lachlan and Fenella would attend, along with Colin and his betrothed, and they would meet once more in Glas
gow on their way back.

  The Lowland city had quieted. Trials had been held in Glasgow and Stirling for the radicals and several had been sentenced to hang, while more would be transferred to penal colonies in South Wales and Tasmania. Eventually the lords would have to listen to the merchants and allow them a voice in Parliament. And the merchants, in turn, needed to improve working conditions and increase wages. But for now, there would only be a single hanging in Glasgow, not a double.

  He stopped and pulled Lissie against him, her soft curves fitting against his hard length. A few more weeks and she would be his wife. The image of her on their wedding night made him rigid with desire. He dipped his head and pressed his lips to hers, breathing in her scent, feeling her long lashes brush against his skin.

  “When I think of how close I came to losing you,” he murmured in her ear. “It’s like a knife to my heart.”

  “Maeve said something the other day about the attraction of opposites. She and Charles were so different, as we are, yet we fit together perfectly.” She leaned into him, and nipped his bottom lip. “It made me think of our time in Glasgow. The unrest helped us realize how much we meant to each other. Two contrary passions brought us together.”

  “Rhapsody and rebellion,” he murmured and kissed her again, with all the hunger of a man who had found what he wanted and would never let it go.

  ###

  Reviews are the life blood of an author. If you enjoyed this story, please consider leaving a review at your favorite retailer.

  https://aubreywynne.com/book/rhapsody-and-rebellion/

  Sign up for my newsletter and don’t miss any new releases. https://www.subscribepage.com/k3f1z

  Historical Note

  There were multiple riots in England and Scotland from the late 18th century through the time of our hero, Gideon, Earl of Stanfeld. This story includes three of them. The main characters and their actions are fiction. The backdrop of the rebellions is not. Below is a brief summary of the rebellions featured in this book.

  The King’s Birthday Riots were protests against the 1791 Corn Laws. (The Corn Laws were tariffs on imported food and grains. Meant to keep grain prices high and benefit British mercantilism, they instead magnified the already poor economic situation due to bad harvests and war.) The riots lasted for three days in Edinburgh and coincided with the birthday of King George III. One person was killed, many injured, and an effigy of the Lord Advocate, Dundas, was hung and burned.

  The Peterloo Massacre occurred on August 16, 1819. Sixty to eighty thousand people gathered to hear the radical orator, Henry Hunt, speak at St. Peter’s Field in Manchester. His message advocated for political reform and repeal of the Corn Laws.

  The local magistrate was nervous about such a large gathering and sent the yeomanry to arrest Henry Hunt. They charged into the crowd and trampled a woman and her child. Disorder erupted and the 15th Hussars were sent in to disperse the crowd. In the end, 15 died and 400-700 injured. The name Peterloo Massacre derived from the earlier Battle of Waterloo.

  The Radical War, or the Scottish Insurrection of 1820, occurred in central Scotland. A week of strikes and conflicts, aimed at Parliamentary reform, was organized by factory workers and skilled artisans, a majority of them weavers. It was later discovered that government agents (English and Scottish) infiltrated the close-knit organization of weavers. Deaths, injuries, and arrests of the organizers were the final result.

  The English government feared a revolution similar to France, so the agents purposefully agitated unrest to expose the radical leaders. Across Scotland, 88 men were eventually charged with treason. In Glasgow, James Wilson was accused of "compassing to levy war against the King in order to compel him to change his measures.” He was hung and then beheaded on July 20, 1820. It is said that he climbed the scaffold, looked out at the crowd, and said to his executioner, “Did ye ever see sic a crowd, Thomas?”

  Andrew Hardie and John Baird were hanged and beheaded in Stirling in August. Almost twenty men were sentenced to transport to New South Wales or Tasmania.

  Maeve was correct, however, and something did come from the tragedy. Electoral reform did not end with the rebellion. The Scottish Reform Act of 1832 significantly changed voting in Scotland. The Scottish electorate increased from 5,000 to 65,000, adding the voices of the general population to the few elite.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Bestselling and award-winning author Aubrey Wynne resides in the Midwest with her husband, dogs, horses, mule and barn cats. She is an elementary teacher by trade, champion of children and animals by conscience, and author by night. Obsessions include history, travel, trail riding and all things Christmas.

  Her short stories, Merry Christmas, Henry and Pete's Mighty Purty Privies have won Readers Choice Awards. Dante's Gift and Paper Love received the 2016 Golden Quill, Aspen Gold, Heart of Excellence and the Gayle Wilson Award of Excellence.

  In addition to her Chicago Christmas novellas, Aubrey will launch a new Regency series, Once Upon a Widow, in 2019. The Wicked Earls’ Club will release again in 2019. Wynne’s Scottish Regency series, A MacNaughton Castle Romance, will also release in 2020.

  Follow Aubrey:

  Website: http://aubreywynne.com/

  Facebook: http://facebook.com/magnificentvalor

  Twitter: http://twitter.com/aubreywynne51

  Instagram: http://instagram.com/Aubreywynne51

  Subscribe to Aubrey’s newsletter for new releases and exclusive excerpts and free stories: http://www.subscribepage.com/k3f1z5

  Facebook Reading Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/AubreyWynnesEverAfters/

  Join Scarsdale Publishing’s Newsletter to keep up on our great authors and their books.