The Gathering Storm (The Jacobite Chronicles Book 3)

by Julia Brannan

  On the thirty-first of March 1745 Captain Richard Cunningham said goodbye to his wife and, together with sixteen thousand other British troops, made his way to the coast ready to sail to Flanders and join their mainly Dutch and Hanoverian allies, making a total of around forty-five thousand men. Although the French force which was being assembled against them numbered some eighty thousand, the British troops were, in the main, confident of victory, partly due to the fact that the majority of the soldiers had no idea of the numbers they were to face. Keeping your men in ignorance was one of the basic tenets of the army, and was generally a very effective strategy.

  Richard left behind a very confused Anne, who no longer knew what to think of the man she had married, whose behaviour towards her ranged from the deeply considerate, even affectionate when in public, to indifferent or deliberately cruel when in private. By nature submissive and adaptable, she had tried desperately to play the chameleon and become whatever he wanted her to be, to anticipate his every wish, and not to antagonise him by any word or gesture.

  When he left, riding out of the yard on his grey stallion without a backward glance, she cried, because she knew she had disappointed him in some way, in spite of all her efforts; she must have done, for why else would he be so cruel to her? She also cried because she felt guilty; guilty that she was secretly glad to see him leave, was looking forward to being alone, to not having to endure his vicious insults and brutal sexual assaults, and most of all guilty, because a tiny part of her, quickly stifled, hoped he would not come back.

  He had not hit her since the night at the club, but she was not stupid; she knew that was due to something that had happened while he was out rather than anything she had done right. After two months of marriage she still had no idea what her husband wanted. She knew only what he did not want; he did not want this baby to be male. She had anticipated the birth with joy; now she felt only a dull dread that when the time came, it would, in spite of all her prayers, be the wrong sex.

  If Richard left his wife feeling confused when he embarked for Europe, he also left his country vulnerable. On the fifteenth of April the Duke of Cumberland set off for Harwich amid much pomp and ceremony to take up his new position as Commander-in-Chief of the Army in Flanders. England now boasted fewer than twelve thousand troops with which she could defend herself against attack, with a further fourteen hundred situated in Scotland under General Cope.

  This fact was not lost on the MacGregors, who assembled in the library on the evening of the sixteenth to discuss the situation.

  “He should be coming now, while there isna anyone to stand in his way,” said Angus excitedly, sitting on the edge of his chair and downing a glass of wine as though it was water. “He’ll never get another opportunity like this.”

  “It wouldna do him any good if he did, I’ve already tellt ye that,” replied Alex. “The clans’ll no’ rise for him without the French helping him. And the French are otherwise occupied at the moment.” He was sitting next to Beth on the sofa, his arm resting along the back of it behind her. One long finger lazily stroked the side of her neck, sending delicious shivers through her body.

  “Aye, but that’s the whole point,” insisted Angus. “The French are helping him. They’re helping him by tying up nearly the whole army abroad.”

  “That’s no’ the point, man,” said Duncan. “The clans’ll no’ see it that way.”

  “Neither will the English,” said Beth. “You said they want a definite commitment from the French before they’ll agree to rise, didn’t you?”

  “Aye, I did,” said Alex. “It isna going to happen, Angus. Charles will do better to stay in France, or go back to Rome for the present. I hope to God that he’s taken heed of Broughton’s letter to him. He must have had it for a while now, it’s been three months since Murray gave it to Traquair. I just wish he’d write back and tell us what his intentions are. If he’ll wait a wee while and stop antagonising Louis, wi’ a bit of luck, when Louis has beaten the British, he’ll be more willing to help us, and put an end to the Elector for good.”

  “Do you really think they’ll beat the British?” said Beth.

  “Christ, they should do. They’ve got twice the force, and a good general, too, in Marshall Saxe.”

  “Louis could easily afford to give Charles ten thousand troops and still beat Cumberland,” grumbled Angus.

  “True, but he willna,” said Alex. “And I’m no’ going tae argue with ye on your birthday. We can blether about this another day.”

  “Twenty-one,” said Maggie proudly, as though she were his mother rather than only a few years older than the birthday boy. “Who’d hae thought it? A man at last! I never thought I’d see the day.”

  “Neither did I,” said Alex. “I thought someone would hae done for him long since. Still, ye’ve made it, laddie. Congratulations. Maybe ye’ll start acting like a man now, and if ye’re lucky ye’ll make it to twenty-two.”

  “I intend to act like a man,” said Angus, leaning down to fasten the silver buckles on his shoes, “this very night. There,” he said, standing up and performing a little pirouette for the company. The skirts of his coat swirled out, then settled back into perfect folds as he faced his audience. “How do I look?”

  He looked very fine indeed, a true gentleman. The midnight blue velvet coat and breeches, a present from his eldest brother, were expertly cut and showed off his broad shoulders, slim waist and long muscular legs to devastating effect. His shirt was trimmed with lace at the collar and cuffs, his cream stockings were of the finest silk, his black leather shoes were polished to a high shine, and his hair, tied back with a blue ribbon, gleamed dark gold in the lamplight.

  “Ye’ll pass,” said Alex gruffly, but he was smiling.

  “You look wonderful, Angus, as you well know,” said Beth. “You don’t need us to tell you that.”

  He grinned, and winked at her.

  “Aye, but it’s nice to be reminded now and then. Right, are ye ready, then, Duncan?”

  Duncan slipped on his coat and stood.

  “Are ye sure ye’d no’ rather stay in, Angus?” said Maggie. “We dinna mind, truly.”

  Maggie and Iain’s baby had been due at this time, and before her miscarriage the family had regularly joked about the possibility of it being born on Angus’s birthday. Although the couple were slowly returning to normal, the three brothers had discussed the matter of the celebration between themselves, and Angus had decided it would be kinder to go out for the evening.

  “Are ye mad, woman?” said Iain. “Trying to keep Angus out of a whorehouse is like trying to keep a wasp frae sugar. It canna be done. Leave him be. He thinks it’s all there is to being a man. Let’s no’ disillusion him, eh?”

  “If that’s all there was to it,” replied Angus amiably, “then I’ve been a man since I was thirteen.”

  “Thirteen?” said Beth, turning to glare at Alex. “You let him…you know…at thirteen?”

  Alex shrugged.

  “Am I my brother’s keeper?” he asked philosophically.

  “No. Well, yes, you should have been, after your father died. Angus, how could you, at thirteen?”

  Angus grinned, and sat down again.

  “Well,” he said, “I did think that being married, Beth, ye’d have kent how it was done by now. But I see my brother’s no’ performing his duty, so I’ll tell ye. First of all ye…”

  “Out,” said Alex.

  Duncan gripped his younger brother by the shoulder.

  “Come on, man, I dinna want to have to throw water all over that bonny suit to split ye up.”

  Maggie leaned over and whispered something to Iain which made him recoil from her as though he’d been bitten.

  “Christ, woman,” he muttered fiercely back to her. “No. And dinna ye ever ask me such a thing again.”

  Maggie looked down shamefacedly at her lap, and after a moment Iain leaned over and took one of her hands in his.

  “I’m no angry wi’ ye, mo
chridhe,” he said. “I can wait, as long as I need to.”

  The rest of the company all remained determinedly unaware of this private moment, which was a considerable feat, as the room was not large.

  “I’ll see ye to the door,” said Alex to his brothers, rising from the couch.

  Once in the hall he turned to Angus.

  “Angus, be careful tonight,” he said.

  “I’m always careful,” said Angus. “Well, almost always,” he amended, seeing his brothers’ incredulous expressions. “And I’ll no’ get drunk. It doesna’ affect me anyway, ye ken that.”

  “Aye, I do, but ye usually dress like a servant or a labourer, and tonight ye look the proper gentleman. It’s different. Ye’ll attract more attention, because ye look rich. When I’m Sir Anthony I always take a lot more care. Ye have to be aware of everyone around ye, and what they’re doing, without seeming to be.”

  “Dinna fash yourself, Alex, I’ll be careful, I promise. I’m armed, and there’re two of us. Why are ye so worried?”

  Alex looked at his brother for a moment, then smiled and relaxed.

  “Christ, I dinna ken myself,” he said. “It’s strange to see my wee baby brother a man, at last. I guess I havena looked at you properly in a long time, and tonight…well, I suddenly noticed ye’re grown, truly.”

  “Och, man, ye’re no’ gonna get sentimental on me, are ye?” said Angus.

  “No. You just make me feel old, that’s all.”

  Angus stepped forward and gave his brother a rib-cracking hug.

  “That’s no’ because I’m a man the day,” he whispered into Alex’s ear. “It’s because ye are old.”

  There was a flurry of light-hearted punches, then Angus smoothed down his coat and prepared to leave.

  “We’ll have a big party for ye next year, to make up for tonight,” Alex promised.

  “I’ll have a fine time tonight,” Angus said. “It’s better I go out than have Iain and Maggie reminded of the fact that we should have been greeting a new member of the clan. They’d have put a good face on it, but it would have hurt them. I’ll hold ye to that, though, next year. A big party, in Scotland, wi’ the whole clan.”

  “Aye, and James on the throne,” added Duncan.

  Alex held his hands up.

  “I’m no’ God,” he said. “I canna promise ye miracles. But I’ll do my best to give ye a big party, and I dinna see why it couldna be at home.”

  “If we dinna get going, I’ll have no party of any sort the night,” said Angus. “Are ye sure ye dinna want to come too?”

  “Me?” said Alex. “Beth’d flay me alive if I went to a brothel. Besides, one of the good things about being married is ye dinna have to pay for it. Away ye go, and celebrate your manhood in style.”

  Angus left, laughing, to enjoy a very pleasant evening, returning at six the following morning, dishevelled and exhausted, and smelling of brandy and cheap perfume.

  * * *

  “I wish you hadn’t shown Anthony these patches,” Beth said, idly sifting through the box of black silk shapes on Sarah’s table. “You can’t imagine how ridiculous he looked the other night at the theatre with a little bird stuck on his cheek. The stars and crescents he used to wear were bad enough, but at least everyone else wears those too.”

  They were ensconced in Sarah’s small sitting room eating a hot pie which she had had delivered from the pie shop round the corner. Sarah sighed blissfully and put both her feet in a basin of warm water.

  “Ahh, wonderful,” she said. “That’s the only problem with dressing hair for a living. You’re on your feet all day. I didn’t show Sir Anthony the patches, if you remember. He found them all by himself. What are you looking for?”

  “A cat,” said Beth. “He wants half a dozen of them. Apparently people have been positively fainting with ecstasy at the mere sight of them on his face.”

  “He’s certainly started a trend,” said Sarah. “I’ve sold them all. I’ve ordered more, though, they’ll be here tomorrow.”

  Beth abandoned her search.

  “You should put some peppermint in the water. It helps to soothe the aches, or so Anne tells me.”

  “How is Anne?” asked Sarah.

  “A lot better since Richard left, I would imagine, although she won’t talk about him to me. She just changes the subject, and I don’t want to press her. I’m not sure whether he’s warned her not to talk about him, or if she’s just being loyal to him. The baby’s due any day now, so she spends most of the time sitting sewing clothes for it. I’ve been teaching her some new embroidery stitches.”

  “I haven’t seen her since he went,” Sarah said, wiping a smear of gravy off her chin with a handkerchief.

  “Have you seen Maggie recently?” Beth asked suddenly, although she already knew the answer to her question.

  “Yes,” replied Sarah. “She calls in now and again. If I’m not busy we have a cup of coffee.”

  “Does she talk to you?”

  “Well, of course she does,” said Sarah. “It would be pretty boring if she just sat there silently.”

  Beth laughed.

  “I asked for that,” she said. “You know what I meant. I wondered if she confided in you at all. I’m worried about her, because even though her and Iain are making a good attempt to appear normal, there’s something not right, and the other night she said something really strange to him. It was Jim’s twenty-first, you know, and him and Murdo went to Mother Meredith’s for the evening. Maggie asked Iain if he wanted to go as well.”

  Sarah froze in the motion of taking another bite of pie and put it back down on the plate.

  “Did he?” she asked softly.

  “No,” answered Beth, unaware that Sarah was not referring to Iain. “He got angry with her at first, and then said that he could wait as long as he needs to, which made me think…what’s the matter?”

  “Nothing,” said Sarah hurriedly. “Yes, she does confide in me, and she said that Iain confides in Murdo. I can’t tell you what she’s told me, because I don’t divulge confidences, you know that, but they’ll be all right. It just takes time. They love each other, that’ll get them through everything. Did Jim enjoy his birthday?” she finished with studied casualness.

  “Yes, judging by the state he was in when he got home, and by the fact that he didn’t get up until the following afternoon,” Beth answered. “Unlike Murdo,” she continued conversationally, watching Sarah carefully, “who was up bright and early. He didn’t indulge in the pleasures of the house. He just went to keep an eye on Jim, and make sure he was safe. Anthony bought Jim a new suit for his birthday, and he looked a real dandy, which made him more of a target for robbers. You don’t like him, do you?”

  “What? Yes, of course I do,” said Sarah automatically, then blushed.

  “Ha! Got you!” said Beth triumphantly. “I meant Jim. It’s pretty obvious you like Murdo.”

  “I do like him,” Sarah replied crossly, “but not in the way you’re thinking. He’s one of the few genuinely decent men I’ve met, Sir Anthony being another. And no, I don’t like Jim. I’ve only met him a couple of times, but he’s far too sure of himself, in my opinion, and only after one thing. I suppose he’s used to getting it easily. He is very handsome.”

  “Yes, but you’ve only seen one aspect of him, Sarah. He’s young and careless at times, but he has a good heart.” She refrained from commenting further, realising that it would seem strange if she defended her servant too vehemently. “Do you see Murdo a lot, then?” she asked.

  “From time to time,” said Sarah carefully. “He’s taking me to see the ostrich at Mr Gough’s menagerie on Saturday.”

  Beth smiled, thinking of what Angus would say when he found out that Duncan had stolen his idea for an outing. If he found out. Duncan was keeping this new friendship very close to his chest. And so was Sarah, who showed a distinct reluctance to converse any further on the subject.

  Beth moved the conversation on to another topic
. If Duncan and Sarah were becoming friends, that was good. If they wanted to keep it secret, that was up to them. She would pry no further.

  * * *

  Less than a week later Anne went into labour. As soon as they heard, Beth and Caroline dashed round to the house, where Isabella, Charlotte and Clarissa were already waiting excitedly for them in the salon.

  “The baby’s just been born!” Isabella cried as soon as they entered. “We distinctly heard it cry, just a few moments ago!” She was almost beside herself with excitement.

  “Why aren’t you upstairs with Anne?” asked Beth, who had expected them to be crowded round the bed. “Is she all right?”

  Isabella looked at her cousin in shock.

  “Oh, Elizabeth, that would never do,” said Isabella. “We are unmarried, you know. It would not do for an unmarried lady to enter a birthing chamber.”

  Clarissa and Charlotte nodded agreement.

  “Why not?” said Beth. This was the first she had heard of this social taboo.

  Isabella looked confused.

  “Well…Edward said that…” she faltered.

  “Ah. Edward,” said Beth. “Well if he said it, it must be right. Very well, you stay here. I’m married, so I assume I’m safe to enter the bedroom. Caroline?”

  The two women mounted the stairs.

  “You’re from an ancient aristocratic family, Caroline,” Beth said as they reached the landing. “Is it the norm for unmarried women not to enter the bedroom?”

  “Not as far as I know,” said Caroline. “Whenever any of us gave birth, the room was so full of chattering females that the midwife used to have to fight her way through to get to her patient. But you know Edward, he makes up rules at times just to show he can still wield authority.”

  “It’s pathetic, it really is,” said Beth crossly. “Those poor women know nothing about life, and they never will while they live with him.”

  A thin reedy wail came from behind the door to which the maid had led them, and Beth abandoned all thought of her downtrodden cousins and entered the room.

  In spite of the fact that it was broad daylight, the shutters were closed, the curtains drawn, and the room lit only by candles. Anne was lying in the bed, her face almost as pale as the pillows which propped her up. In the corner the midwife was busily swaddling the newborn infant. The room was stiflingly hot, and a sour smell of blood and stale air permeated it.