“Will you show me?” he asked.
“Aye. Mama said she would let us ride this afternoon.”
“And so you will,” he said, still not quite sure how to talk to little lasses ranging in age from five to seven. But they did not seem to care. Annabella held out her hand, and he took it, wondering at its tiny size, and the trust that permitted her to put it there. He knew now that their father had terrified them.
Her complete trust was a gift, the finest he had ever known.
He felt infinitely humbled as he walked with her to the paddock. Her fingers seemed so small and fragile in his, like a bird’s wing; he feared his own long, rough fingers might hurt her. Yet it was something very, very fine, this small tender moment.
Rachel raced on ahead to see Kevin. Grace walked sedately with Janet, her eyes darting from Annabella to Rachel. Grace apparently was not quite as trusting as her sisters. She still viewed him with cautious eyes. She could accept him as long as he stayed in front of her and made no move to hurt her sisters.
Satan’s plague on Campbell. The joy had been drained from Janet, trust from the lasses. God only knew how he would have influenced his son.
He led Annabella, followed by Samson, into the stable. Jamie was there and the two of them saddled the ponies. Neil leaned down and set Annabella on the smallest pony. “Have you named her yet?”
“I liked Snow White, but Rachel said she was sweet as sugar,” she said, “so I decided on Sugar. And Rachel’s pony is Molasses.”
“Then I will have to get a honey-colored horse for Grace,” he said seriously.
Annabella thought about that a moment, then grinned. “That is a very good idea,” she said in a grown-up tone.
“Thank you,” he said, smothering his own grin. She always made him smile. Inside and out.
He led her pony outside, while Jamie led out Molasses. Neil watched as Jamie helped Rachel up, his wiry body stronger than it looked.
“You do not need to lead me,” Annabella said grumpily.
They were in a paddock, but still … He glanced at Janet and she nodded.
He handed the reins to Annabella and stepped back to stand next to Janet. They watched as the two little lasses walked their ponies around the paddock, showing off their newfound skills.
“You have been teaching them,” he said.
“Aye. They are natural riders.”
He had to agree as he watched the concentration on their faces. Pleasure coursed through him. Buying the ponies was such a small thing, and yet he could already see how it was giving the lasses both enjoyment and confidence. He also felt a pride he had never known before. Was it a tiny taste of the feelings a parent had for his or her children? He would never know the full joy of fatherhood.
He looked down at Grace. Her gaze followed every move of her sisters as they walked the ponies around. “I will bring you back a pony from Edinburgh,” he said.
She regarded him steadily, then said, “You do not have to do it. I really do not mind borrowing one.”
His heart went out to her. The lie was in her eyes. She ached for a pony. She could have even demanded one of the two he had bought since she was the oldest. Instead, she had allowed them to be claimed by the two younger girls. He had never heard her ask for anything for herself.
“I promise you the most perfect pony in Edinburgh,” he said.
She looked at him through big solemn blue eyes. They were several shades lighter than Janet’s, more a cornflower blue than the deep, dark blue of the sea. But they were just as expressive. It was obvious she was not quite sure she believed him. She always looked as if she expected a blow. He knew that feeling too well and it made him ache inside. He wanted to put a hand on her shoulder, but he feared it would startle her more than comfort.
His chest constricted. No child should ever know that kind of fear. Especially a lass.
He leaned down and picked up Samson who was rubbing against his legs. He held the pup a moment, enduring a sloppy swipe of the tongue, then handed him to Grace. “Here, lass, you want to keep him away from the ponies. He could startle them.”
Grace clutched the puppy to her chest.
He made himself turn away from her before he leaned down and hugged her. He had missed them all while he was gone, far more than he wanted to admit. He did not even want to think of the emptiness of Braemoor when they and their mother left.
His gaze went to Janet and found hers on him. He managed to smile. “Your lad?”
“Still sleeping. I dinna want to wake him. But now he will keep me awake all night.” She looked at him. “I have never been away from him. Can we not take him?”
“We would not be able to move as quickly. With just the two of us, we can go by horseback and be back within four days. If we take a coach and servants, it will take us six or eight, and it is a hard drive.”
She seemed to consider his words, then nodded. He saw the reluctance in her eyes, however. And yet they had no choice. He wanted to get to Cumberland before Reginald and his mother did any more damage. And he also had to get back to her brother.
He felt as if he were a jester, balancing any number of balls in the air.
“I will have some men stationed here at the tower house,” he said. “They will be safe.”
She nodded and looked back at the small figures on the horses. “I know,” she said reluctantly.
Janet visited the small chapel on the side of the tower. She had been there several times before but now she felt a compelling need. She dreaded leaving her son. And the lasses. It could be the last time she saw them.
If Cumberland believed Reginald and Marjorie, he might well order her held for trial. Her stomach bunched in knots. What would happen to the children then? Could she depend on Braemoor to look after them? She could not bear the thought of them under the control of Reginald and Louisa.
But she could not take them with her. Braemoor was right: a carriage would take far longer. It would be too difficult a journey for the children. Especially after the last one. And Neil had already spent so much time on her behalf, including the several journeys to Lochaene. Still, she could not quiet the sick feeling she had in the pit of her stomach. Nor the fear that was like a lead weight on her.
Even the thought of being alone with Neil for those days did not help. In truth, they made the prospect even more daunting. She had watched his eyes before he had looked toward her. She had seen them soften. She had even seen the bleak look when he had turned back to her, as though something valuable had been taken from him.
Why did he always try so hard to conceal his feelings, any sign of emotion?
And why could she not control her own? Why did she continue to ache so for him?
She bent her head and prayed. Prayed for her children.
And for herself.
They left at daybreak. She had kept her son with her through the night and had shed a tear on bidding him farewell. She told him that she was doing it for him, that she would be back soon.
She kissed him, rocked him, sang him songs. Her only comfort at leaving him was knowing that Clara loved him nearly as much as she. And then there was Trilby. Lucy. And Grace. All of them would look after Colin.
She had already packed the extra gown that she intended to wear for her audience with Cumberland. It was a particularly plain one. She had no intention of trying to impress the Duke of Cumberland. For the ride, she had chosen a dark blue riding dress and a plain cap. She missed the plaids, but they were gone from Scotland these days. Part of her wanted to flaunt her Leslie heritage, but too much depended on her being cautious and obedient.
God in heaven, but she wished she were a man. She would have options she did not have as a woman. As a mother. Her first duty—her only duty—was to protect the bairns.
She heard a light knock on her door and opened it. Braemoor stood there in leather buckskin breeches, with a white linen shirt and fine tweed coat stretching across his wide shoulders.
She wished her heart would not thump so
wildly when she saw him.
“Lucy said you were awake,” he said.
“Aye,” she said, holding tightly to Colin.
He looked down at her son, and she saw regret in his eyes. He held out her finger and a drowsy Colin took it, holding onto it. “He is a handsome lad.”
“And he will be a good man,” she said.
“Aye.” He hesitated, then said, “We should go. Lucy is outside.”
Janet gave Colin one last kiss, then closed her eyes as Lucy took him to the nursery.
Braemoor helped her put her cloak on. “We will be back soon, Janet. I have five men who will stay within the tower house. They have sworn to protect your children with their lives.”
A chill ran through her. “You do not think …?”
“Nay. I think Reginald is confident he can work through the Campbells. But I do not want to take any chances.”
She nodded. She was becoming accustomed to his quiet efficiency.
He picked up her bundle. It contained her nightdress and robe, her extra dress, brush and comb and change of shift. No more. He put his arm at the crook of her elbow and guided her out the door. “I will have this wrapped in oilcloth,” he said.
She forced herself to go down the stairs. An adventure was awaiting her. Hopefully even independence. But dread was a heavy lead ball in her stomach. Cumberland had a reason for wanting to see her.
The day was not one to lift spirits. Fog shielded the hills and the mist was heavy. She began to wish for the jolting carriage. But Braemoor had instilled her with his own urgency. He took her into the stable. Kevin was holding two saddled horses. As she watched, Braemoor wrapped her belongings in oilcloth, then tied it to the back of her saddle. His own saddlebags were bulging.
“Kevin,” she said, “I do not think Rachel and Annabella should ride while I am gone.”
“Aye, my lady. But I will make sure they have some carrots to give them.”
“Thank you.”
“I will look after them,” he said.
“Aye,” Jamie said, appearing from the back. “I will, too.”
She had to smile at his earnest face. “Thank you both,” she said.
Braemoor helped her up into the saddle, then vaulted onto his own mount.
He started at a walk, then moved into a canter. She followed, looking back only once. She realized then that Braemoor somehow felt more like home than Lochaene.
Mayhap because it was where her heart now was.
It took them the best part of two days to reach Edinburgh. They’d stayed in an inn overnight; Janet took the only private room they had and Neil stayed in the common room. In truth, Neil often felt more comfortable that way than in a lone bed in a private chamber. He had trained as a soldier and was used to communal lodging.
He was like a fish out of water now, pretending to be a lord. A marquis. He had always wanted that because it represented power. Now he felt the full weight of having people dependent on him.
He was not doing a good job of it. Instead, he was riding around the country like some fool Don Quixote. With the likelihood of not much more success.
He had been moody and quiet along the way, uncertain as to what he was doing. He was almost sure that Cumberland would inquire about his intentions toward Janet. He had not told Janet that Cumberland desired a marriage between them because he did not want her to believe he had encouraged it, or wanted it. But if it was the only way to save her, God help him, what would he do?
And how was he going to get Alex, and his orphans, out of the country?
He’d noticed that she had darted glances at him during the journey. She was obviously trying to understand his mood, but he did not know how to explain all the secrets he carried. He’d never liked deviousness. Now he felt consumed by the lies and nontruths that had become a part of his life. He hated them. He hated keeping even the smallest secret from Janet. She deserved so much more.
At least, he had left enough money with Alex for Burke to buy blankets and food. If only they could avoid the authorities for the next month. It would take at least that long.
Beset by worries, he’d even been curt to Janet. But it had been necessary: A moment’s relaxation and he might reveal everything.
They approached Edinburgh at mid-afternoon. The sight of the castle looming above the city was always a bit daunting. Neil turned and looked at Janet. Her eyes were on the great stone edifice. “I have never been to Edinburgh,” she said.
That was not unusual for a woman from the Highlands, he knew. He had gathered that her husband had kept her secluded.
“We will not have much time here,” he said. “No more than a day, but mayhap you can visit some shops tomorrow afternoon.”
“I would like to get some material for dresses for the girls,” she said wistfully. “And warm cloaks for winter.”
Nothing for herself, he noted, even as he knew her wardrobe was small. He would tend to that another day. He really wanted to give her the moon.
He could not do that, but he might return a brother to her, or at least the knowledge that he lived.
He guided his horse into Edinburgh. He watched as she turned her face from the British soldiers that seemed to crowd the cobbled streets, but her eyes were also alive with interest as her gaze took in the many shops and markets.
“My cousin kept lodgings at an inn called the Fox and Hare. He used to stay there when he was in Edinburgh,” Neil said. He’d discovered that from billings received from the inn. Rory had apparently maintained an apartment there; mayhap he could follow some trail from the inn and discover how Rory had helped spirit Jacobites from Scotland. The odds of doing so were dismayingly small, but he had nowhere else to go unless he journeyed to France. That would be his last option.
He had noted the inn when last he was in Edinburgh and he guided them directly to it. Once settled, he would send a messenger to Cumberland at Holyroodhouse to see when they could obtain an audience.
They stopped at the Fox and Hare and they went inside. The proprietor looked at them curiously.
“I am the Marquis of Braemoor,” Neil said, still not comfortable with the title or the saying of it. “And this is the Countess of Lochaene. We would like two rooms.”
The man frowned, even as his eyes lit in recognition of Neil’s name. “I have no room, my lord.”
“Ah, but you do, landlord. I noticed in my cousin’s accounts that he had paid for a room here. It lasted, I believe, for a year.”
The landlord’s face paled. “But he is dead, my lord. I thought …”
“Aye?” Neil said quietly, but there was steel in his voice.
“I will see what I can do,” the landlord said.
Neil did not want to alienate the man completely. He might have information. “We will return after supper,” he said. “I expect the rooms to be ready.”
“But it was only one.”
“Aye, it was, but it seems you have been renting out a room already paid for.” Then he decided to relent. “I will pay handsomely to recompense someone for the inconvenience,” Neil said. “I will pay triple the cost for a second room for two nights.”
The man’s face cleared. “I think I can find something.”
Neil studied him. “I thought you might. The Braemoor custom could be quite valuable. I am sure you would not abuse it.”
“Nay,” the man said, bowing. “If I had but known …”
“Of course,” Neil said equably. “I would like the rooms to be ready when we return. In the meantime I would like a message delivered to His Grace, the Duke of Cumberland, our horses tended and our personal belongings taken to our rooms.”
The man bobbed up and down. “I will send someone immediately. Several of his officers stay here. Several were friends to the late … to your … cousin.”
“Friends, or gaming companions?”
The man’s expression told Neil it was the latter. Good. Mayhap he would do a bit of gaming himself tonight. But first he had to see that Janet
had something to eat.
Janet watched Neil over supper. The landlord had recommended a tavern nearby. His own, he said, was not suitable dining for a lady.
She realized that neither was the inn respectable for a woman staying alone.
The truth was she did not care about her reputation. She cared only about getting back to Lochaene and having the freedom to make it prosper. At least, she told herself that. She did not want to consider how much Braemoor felt like home, or how much she … still cared about its lord. He had made it only too clear on the journey from Braemoor that his concern was fulfilling an obligation he felt he owed her.
The tavern was large and noisy. Neil passed a few coins to the tavern keeper, who then led them to a private alcove. Braemoor ordered a large meal, starting with a platter of fruit and cheeses. A bottle of fine wine arrived. She gratefully sipped it, feeling herself relax. Course after course appeared. Roast mutton, crab and oysters appeared on the table. She watched him eat, noticing that he did so carefully, savoring every bite. He was quiet, but then he was always quiet. It was one of the things she liked about him, the companionable silences, but she wondered whether she would ever know what he was thinking.
She was not hungry, and simply nibbled. She could not stop thinking about what Cumberland wanted from her. And why.
“My lady?”
Her gaze returned to his. “You are not eating.”
“A little, mayhap,” she said.
“Ah, but not enough.” He picked up a sugar wafer from a plate and tempted her mouth open with it. Janet licked it, then took it into her mouth, realizing that little crumbs of pastry and sugar sprinkled her lips.
Neil leaned over the narrow table and his lips touched hers. She could taste the wine on his lips and the sugar so recently on her own. His breathing was erratic, and she felt her own body tense with warmth. She heard the crackling of a nearby fire, smelled the aromas of good food mixed with that of wood smoke.
She knew she looked … not her best. Her dress was damp and limp. She had tried to tuck her hair neatly into her cap but ringlets had escaped. And yet he made her feel as if she were the most desirable woman on earth.
The Heart Queen Page 30
