“Well, no, milady.”
“But I am curious that you are looking for Jacobites. To be honest, I didn’t know there are many of them left. Are there, Lieutenant?”
“I really cannot say, milady. But there are obviously none here.”
“Quite right, sir.”
“Begging your pardon, milady,” Huske said good-naturedly. “You said you are from Oxford? I’ve spent a great deal of time there, myself, when I was younger.”
“What a coincidence! Actually, I went to school there. Mrs. Stockdale’s Academy.”
“I know exactly where that is. My uncle had a small estate just on the outskirts. There was horse trader just up the lane from St—”
“Enough of this,” Turner cut in brusquely. “Lady Aytoun, we have reason to believe that the Young Pretender himself is here…now…as we speak.”
He crossed the room and leaned toward the woman to impress her with the seriousness of the visit.
“Hold there,” the steward growled, coming forward protectively.
“Wait, Mr. Campbell,” the countess said, growing pale. “I must know what he means.”
“To speak more plainly, milady, you will be convicted of high treason for sheltering and supporting the exiled traitor if you do not cooperate with us immediately. So enough of this meaningless banter. Take us to where you are hiding him.”
The woman stared up at him, a look of horror on her face. “Sir, how can you make such an accusation? What reason do you have to believe such a thing?”
“I must apologize for the captain, milady.” Huske said, stepping between them and encouraging her to sit down.
“High treason?” She turned to the young officer. “Lieutenant, I want you to know that my home is open to you and your men. Feel free to search every inch of this castle, as you see fit. I am shocked to find that such a rumor could circulate outside these walls. In fact, I insist on you start this moment and continue searching. We have nothing to hide. I want you to look until you are convinced that we house no Stewart princes.”
Turner looked on in disgust as the fool, rather than starting the search, pulled a chair close to the countess and continued to make apologies.
“Milady, I have no do that this rumor is false. I do not think that we need to—”
She shook her head. “No, I insist. I will not have you leave this place with any doubt in your mind.”
Turner offered to lead the search, but Huske immediately refused, ordering the two soldiers to divide the rest of the company into parties and to make a quick search of the castle.
As he stood in silence by the window, the two continued to talk like old friends.
Not even an hour later, the two soldiers returned. They had found nothing to report. Turner was appalled to find the lieutenant satisfied.
“Again, milady, my sincerest apologies to you and his lordship for any inconvenience. I will make certain that a complete report of this visit is made to my commander, Colonel Kilmaine. I must tell you that he believed from the first that information we received was far from reliable.”
With a deep bow, Huske motioned for the captain to follow him out.
Anger churned and rolled through Turner, threatening to explode. They had not even looked. They did not even search the grounds. The information he received could not be wrong. The letter had said the meeting was to take place today. Here. They just had to wait them out.
Outside, in front the foot soldiers, Huske laid into him.
“I warned Colonel Kilmaine of your unreliability, Captain. Anyone who betrays the confidence of his own superior as you did of Admiral Middleton is not a man to be trusted. Your conduct was ungentlemanly and callous to the countess. You, sir…”
Turner shut his ears to the man’s raving, for in the distance he spotted two women who were walking from the gardens across the fields toward the river. Even through the mist, however, he had no trouble recognizing the wild head of black hair falling in cascades over slim shoulders.
Someone would pay dearly for this, and he had just found the perfect someone.
*****
Portia walked arm in arm with her mother as they slowly crossed the field. Ahead of them, the thick hedge of brambles and pine told her that they were nearing the cliffs. The smell of wild flowers and cut grass was in the air, though she wished the sun would break through once before they went in to dinner. It didn’t matter, she thought, this was the most time the two of them had spent alone together in days. As they walked farther away from the castle, they eventually came to a path through the thick brambles and brush. The sound of the flowing water promised a view of the cliffs and the river, if the rising fog was not too thick yet.
“You never told me what you and Lady Primrose talked about.”
“The obvious,” Helena replied. “The one person we both dote on.”
“Bonnie Prince Charlie?”
“No, you goose.” Helena laughed softly. “I had a hundred questions about your growing up and your temperament and the things you did as a child. I wanted to hear all those stories that mothers savor in their memories.”
“Now, why should you want to know those things?”
“So I can remind you of them and tease you whenever your children do the same thing.” Helena smiled. “And you must promise to give me plenty of them. Grandchildren, I mean.”
Portia felt her stomach flip at the mere mention of it. She hadn’t thought about it much since Pierce had brought it up the first time. But it was very possible that she was with child right now. Her body was certainly acting differently than it ever had before. She was tender in places where she had never been. And there was the question of her monthly.
“Have you two decided on a date for your wedding?”
Portia felt herself grow warm. “He would like us to marry very soon. In fact, as soon as his mother arrives from Hertfordshire. That would be fine with me since, other than you, I cannot think of anyone else.”
“Lady Primrose told me she will be in Edinburgh for a month, and she was hoping to be asked.”
Portia was touched by that. “Of course. She has been a good friend to us.”
The path turned and suddenly they were standing on a bluff overlooking the river. The mists were drifting and swirling in thick clouds, though, only giving her brief glimpses of the river far below.
“Would you like to start back?” she asked. “This path along the cliff follows the river for some distance from the castle.”
“Let’s walk a ways further,” Helena replied. “I’m enjoying this.”
They walked in silence for a while, listening to the birds and the rush of the water below. Portia took the outside, for the path often passed right along the edge of the cliffs. She knew that these were the cliffs where Lyon’s first wife had fallen to her death…where Pierce had discovered both his brother and Emma.
The mist was growing thicker, obscuring sections of the path ahead. They had walked farther than she had intended.
“I think we should go back, Mother.”
“As you wish, dear.”
They turned around, and Portia decided they had made the right choice. She could not see two dozen paces ahead of them. Still, she didn’t want to worry her mother.
“It would be lovely to have the wedding in the summer, don’t you th—”
The word became a sharp cry as she felt herself jerked backwards by her hair, the blade of a knife pressing against her throat. She turned ever slightly and caught a glimpse of her assailant.
Turner.
****
Wrapped up in the safety of her husband’s arms, Millicent was still upset about the unexpected visit. Lyon and Pierce and Truscott, riding up the road from the village, had not seen the redcoated soldiers as they marched away from Baronsford.
“Now I understand why he mentions one day in his correspondence, but shows up the e day before,” Lyon said.
“These letters must be intercepted all the time,” Pierce agreed.
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“I’m very glad you knew, Lyon,” Millicent noted. “Otherwise, I would have been quite taken by surprise when the prince arrived.”
“That is why Lady Primrose preceded him, my love.”
“Lucky for all of us, though, these soldiers did not know,” Millicent asserted.
“Tell me everything that was said,” Lyon told her. “I want to hear every detail of my brave wife’s defense of the castle.”
Pierce, keen to hear all the details as well, became concerned when she related the part about the second officer, the one who was put in his place by the young lieutenant.
“Do you recall the other officer’s name?” he asked, breaking into her narrative.
“Indeed I do. Captain Turner.”
Pierce felt his heart stop beating.
“Where are Portia and Helena?”
****
The path became narrower as they moved away from Baronsford. Thick briars, boulders, and stunted pines formed an impassible hedge on one side, at times crowding them dangerously close to the edge of the cliff. Below them, the river sometimes became visible through the fog. Occasionally, Portia caught glimpses of jagged rocks protruding from the moving water and at the base of the cliff. At other times, all she could see was the swirling mist and the roots of trees reaching out like tentacles from the cliff face.
Even with Turner’s fist clutching her hair, Portia hugged Helena tightly to her side, keeping her away from the edge.
“Push her in front of you,” he said, jabbing the point of the knife into her back. “At this rate, we will still be on this ledge when the sun goes down.”
Turner jerked Portia’s head forward, causing her to slip on some loose gravel. She grabbed for a branch, though, regaining her footing.
“She cannot see to lead the way.” She held tight to her mother’s arm. “At least, let me go in front.”
“So you can run away? You think I don’t know you and your tricks?”
She winced as he jerked her hair again. He was a fool, though. He didn’t know her at all. If he did, then he would know that his most valuable weapon was Helena herself. Portia would not run anywhere so long as her mother was in his clutches.
“Do as I say. Push her ahead of you.”
Still holding on to her mother’s hand, Portia guided her to the front, trying to keep her away from the edge. If anything, they went slower now, as Helena had to feel with her hand along the branches and rock.
Portia didn’t know where this path led, but she assumed Turner must have left a horse in a clearing somewhere. At some point they had to come to an opening that would lead them to it. How he had found them out here, though, she had no idea. They were far from the castle now, and she doubted anyone knew they were in trouble. She wondered how much time would pass before anyone even realized they were missing.
Suddenly her mother stopped and turned back toward them. “And just who the blazes do you think you are, Captain, to steal us away like this?”
Portia was surprised to hear the fearlessness in her mother’s tone.
Turner shoved Portia hard into her mother, though, and the older woman grabbed for a branch as she stumbled backward.
“Keep moving, you Jacobite whore.”
“Shut your mouth, Turner,” Portia spat out, earning another vicious jerk of her head.
“Keep moving, both of you.”
“And just where do you think you are taking us?” Helena’s voice rose. “How far do you think you can go before they catch up to us?”
“Tell her to be quiet,” he said fiercely to Portia.
She stumbled over a branch and glanced over the edge. There was a stony beach below. They were still quite high. Just ahead, there was a bend in the river. They passed occasional breaks in the foliage now, though Portia could see no passage through. If there were even a small clearing, she thought, she would try to tear her hair free of his grip, push Helena into the clearing, and then face Turner herself, no matter what the consequences. That knife be damned, she’d drag him off the cliff with her if she had to.
The path took several more sharp turns, but Helena, still ahead of them, managed to keep moving.
“If you think there will be a prize for returning me to my father, then you are a greater fool than I thought.” Helena stopped and looked over her shoulder at him again. “But he said a number of times you had no more wit than a footman.”
She moved forward a little without waiting for an answer. The path widened slightly and then narrowed sharply. Just holding onto her hand, Portia could feel the confidence growing in her mother.
“I hope you know that in the Admiral’s estimation,” she started again, “you ranked even below his horses. Below his dogs even.”
Portia could hear the river moving over rocks below them, and the fog enshrouding the cliffs was heavier here. Briars and boulders formed a solid barrier now, and Portia could barely see ahead of her mother at all. Suddenly, her mother stopped dead beside a boulder. The path was so narrow here that Portia’s foot was only inches from the edge.
“But I think I know why my father kept you around, Captain.” Helena turned around. “And you say I’m the whore!”
Portia felt the knife again at her throat. Turner’s breath was in her ear.
“I have been waiting for an excuse to give your daughter what she has coming. One more word from you and I’ll cut her—”
“And a coward, too. Just as the Admiral used to say.” Helena squeezed Portia’s hand and took a step back. “But wouldn’t your master be upset if you went back empty-handed?”
Helena took another step back and then, to Portia’s astonishment, she turned and disappeared behind the boulder.
It took Turner less than a second to realize what had happened. He jerked Portia hard toward the cliff and pushed by her. She reached out, clutching at anything she could as she teetered on the edge.
By sheer luck, her fingers closed on his sword scabbard as he went by, and she held tight, stopping him abruptly. Then, with a snap, the cord holding the sword gave way and she was again falling, scratching and clawing at the crumbling face of the cliff. With dirt and rocks showering her, she caught hold of a thin root.
Above her, Turner fell backwards as if shot from a bow, careened off the boulder, and stumbled toward the edge. She only saw his flailing arms and legs as he fell, and his scream ended with a sickening thud somewhere below her.
The root snapped as Portia’s fingers reached for another. Each branch she caught held for only a moment and then broke, sending her sliding another few inches. Her strength was giving out, and her hands were slippery with blood.
And then he caught hold of her wrist.
****
Pierce pulled Portia up onto the ledge and sat back against the boulder, holding her tightly in his arms. He didn’t know which one of them was shuddering more violently.
The panic that had gripped him when he’d heard Turner was at Baronsford had nearly crushed him. Racing through the castle, he ran into Helena’s attendant Bess, who told him that she’d seen them heading toward the river path.
As Pierce ran out of the house, Lyon shouted to him from atop one of the towers. From there parts of the path along the cliffs were visible, and he thought he could see three people walking there.
Pierce sprinted across the fields with Truscott following. Threading their way through the groves of pine and briar, they headed for a point where they would be ahead of the two women and their abductor. At one point, they came close enough that Pierce could hear them. Turner had gone mad, he thought. From the voices, they knew that Helena was in the front and the captain was in the rear.
Even having Truscott with him, Pierce could not risk a face to face confrontation on the cliff. He would not take the chance of Portia going over the edge. The image of Lyon’s and Emma’s broken bodies on those rocks was still too vivid.
Finally, they reached a point where they knew a boulder shielded an entry onto the path. The fog
was thick, and Pierce decided that this would be his best opportunity to surprise Turner as they passed. The two men waited until Helena reached the opening. Truscott reached for the older woman, and everything happened too quickly from there.
Pierce held Portia in his arms and thanked God that she was safe.
“Where is my mother?” she cried out in panic.
“She is safe. Walter Truscott has her.”
“Turner went over.”
“I know. I saw him go. We’ll send someone down there, but I doubt he survived the fall.”
She held him again. “I don’t know what he thought he could accomplish by taking us. Helena, for one, would have fought every step of the journey back to Boston.”
“I think this was a final act of desperation to walk away with something,” Pierce said.
Helping her to her feet, he guided her toward the small opening beside the boulder. She stopped and looked over the edge of the cliff where Turner had fallen. There was only the mist, and the sound of water rushing over rocks.
A few moments later, Portia was holding Helena in her arms as the two men looked on. When they were feeling more composed, Pierce told them quickly about the attempt to apprehend Charles Edward.
“All this happened this afternoon?”
“While you and your mother must have been in the gardens. Turner must have seen you and then separated himself from the company. From what Millicent says, the lieutenant in charge probably wasn’t sorry to see him go.”
Pierce could see that Helena was looking a little pale. He turned to Truscott.
“Take them back, Walter. I need to go down to the river.”
His cousin shook his head. “Not you. I’ll take a couple of men and search the river’s edge.” Truscott clapped Pierce on the shoulder and motioned with his head toward Portia. “Forget about these cliffs and go to her. That’s where the future lies.”
CHAPTER 28
A bright August sun was shining in a pale, blue sky as the early crowds began to gather by the steps of the small stone kirk in the village. All were dressed in their finest clothes, and the sound of pipes filled the air. At Baronsford, the rooms had been decorated and the entire household seemed to be holding its breath in anticipation. For the wedding celebration that would follow the ceremony, a thousand daisies and roses had been gathered and arranged throughout the castle, and the smells of meat and cakes wafted from the kitchens.
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