Alex met Reginald on the same road where they had met before.
As instructed by the Marquis of Braemoor, Alex sent Burke with a sealed letter for Reginald. Burke, who was a master of furtiveness, was to leave it at the front door of Lochaene. Alex wanted Reginald to believe the Black Knave could appear and disappear at will.
The note said that the Black Knave had accomplished his mission. Reginald was to meet him as he had before to receive proof and to conclude their business arrangement.
Alex did not think Reginald had the fortitude to refuse the meeting. Nor could the man set a trap without implicating himself.
So this would be the final piece to be put into place. Alex knew he had to convince Reginald to attend Braemoor’s ball. He should have received his invitation.
As an additional precaution, Alex met Reginald a mile closer to Lochaene than their previous meeting. And, as before, he appeared out of nowhere, mask back on his face and pistol leveled at Reginald.
“My dear Campbell,” he said. “You will ride towards those trees until we cannot be seen from the road.”
Reginald Campbell silently turned his mount into the woods, then stopped a distance from the rarely traveled road.
“Dismount,” Alex ordered. He noticed that this time Campbell rode an old horse and wore no jewelry. He grinned at that. The man would not have a weapon either, he thought, but he slid down from his own horse and checked Campbell’s saddle and his person. Nothing.
“You are learning, sir,” he said equably.
“You have news for me?” Reginald said.
Alex shrugged. “She is dead.” He tossed him Janet’s ring. There was dried blood on it.
Reginald studied it for a moment. “How did she die? I have heard nothing.”
“You would not. Braemoor is holding a ball in two days’ time. Cumberland is attending. I do not think Braemoor wants Cumberland to know of the lady’s death until he gets his hands on your estates.”
“How do you know that?”
“How do I know so much about you? I have spies everywhere, my dear Campbell.” Then he seemed to relent. “I have someone in Braemoor’s employ. I know that he had forbidden the lady to ride alone, but she paid scant attention. She had a very regrettable accident on the road and was thrown from her horse.”
Reginald nodded. “She often rode off without telling anyone. And I know she did not want to leave Lochaene. He forced her and left his man here to guard his interests. Probably to rob us blind.”
Alex continued as if Reginald had not spoken at all. “I waited to see whether anyone would find the body. From a distance, that is. He came after her and found the body. I saw him take it not far away through the woods and leave it there, apparently for the animals. He must be as greedy as you are. As was his cousin. I rather enjoyed skewering him,” Alex said.
His cold words apparently were convincing. Or mayhap Reginald saw himself in everyone else. Satisfaction swept his face. “There is a ball in three days’ time. I did not plan to go, but now I will. I will demand to see her.”
“I would not appear too early were I you,” Alex warned. “You do not want anyone to suspect you had anything to do with her disappearance.” He hesitated, then added in an ominous voice, “I expect my payment by this time next week. That will give you time to fetch the children and take over their guardianship,” he said, lifting his pistol again and rubbing the barrel against Reginald’s neck.
“It … it will take longer.”
“Sell some jewelry. Borrow money. I do not care how you do it, but do not disappoint me.”
Reginald believed it. Alex could feel his fear. And he felt no guilt at all for putting it there. Or for what he was about to do to Reginald. The man had been willing to pay an outlaw money to kill Janet, and he might well have killed his own brother.
Alex mounted. He eyed Reginald’s horse, wishing he could take it for the children. It would be a long journey to the sea from his cave. The older lads would have to walk.
Hell, why not? “Do not bother to mount, Campbell. Your horse will be part of the payment you owe me.”
“But …” Reginald blustered.
“You can say you were thrown,” Alex said, smiling under the mask. “No one would doubt that.”
He leaned down and took the reins from Reginald’s hands and galloped off without looking back. He thought he had baited the hook rather well.
Chapter Twenty-eight
The days before the ball were feverish. Janet planned the menu, saw to the purchase of food, hired additional staff and supervised the cleaning of the tower house.
Neil was often gone. After they had made love following the meeting with her brother, he had ridden to his most recently acquired property, a trip of three days. Before he left, he made sure she was well protected.
“I must see that they have food and feed for the winter,” he said, and she knew he worried that something might go wrong, and he might not be able to see to it later. It was that practical, caring part of him that she loved. She also knew that when he returned tonight, she would have to leave and stay in Mary’s cottage for several days. In the event that Reginald arrived early, she had to be missing. The servants would be told she had urgent business at Lochaene, and the trip would be too difficult for the children. She did not even want to think about being away from her son that long, but it was a small enough price to pay for safety for them all.
And Neil would visit. She knew now he would visit. He had not said anything about marriage, but she saw the love shine in his eyes. She still saw pain in his face, an anguish that pierced her heart every time she saw it. She prayed every day she would hear from the solicitor and she could soothe the worry from his brow.
Yet once he had broken through that reserve the other night, he had touched her whenever they were alone. He had done it with a gentleness and protectiveness that brought a flooding warmth to her heart. She only hoped that he would be here tonight before she left in the morning for Mary’s cottage.
Once Lucy left, Janet went over to Colin’s bed. He had been active all day, exploring every nook and cranny. She and Clara really had to watch him now that he walked, or jolted from one object to another, gazing up at her with bright blue eyes that asked her to share his pride in his growing confidence.
He slept now, a thumb in his mouth. He looked more content than she had ever seen him. Mayhap, she thought, because there was no tension in this house. Everyone regarded him with love, even the servants. No one glared at him or looked on him with hatred or jealousy. She wanted him to have that security now. She wanted him and her daughters to feel nothing but love and safety.
After the ball …
She sat next to his bed as she had done so many times, thinking about the wonder that he was, that the lasses were. Then she went over to the window and looked outside. Fog made it all but impossible to see the road. It completely obscured the moon, which would be waning in a few days. Her brother would sail then.
But now she had her memories, good memories of his rueful smile and his love, and she had Neil. And the children. It was so much more than she had ever expected.
She waited, but no one came. Restless, she took the candle lamp and padded down to the library. She would need some books at Mary’s cottage. She looked among the volumes, then stretched upward to pick one from the shelves. Then she felt rather than heard him. The air was suddenly warmer, electric. Every one of her senses was aware, tingling. She turned and he was there, his lips curved into a smile although his eyes were weary. His dark cloak was wet and his hair damp and curling. He looked magnificent to her.
“I saw a light in here,” he said.
“I was getting a book to read at the cottage.”
His arms went around her, and she leaned against him. His lips touched her forehead. “I am sorry we have to go through this charade.”
“I know,” she said, “but as long as you are nearby …”
“Aye, and Kevin,” he said. “I
want him to stay out there with you when I cannot be.”
“You have told him?”
“Aye, and he has sworn not to tell another living soul, not even your Lucy,” he said.
“I will miss Colin.”
“Aye, I know. I will try to find a way to bring him to you.”
She looked up and their gazes met. “The tenants?”
“They are fine. There is one young lad who shows signs of leadership. I left some funds with him.”
“You are a good man, my lord.”
His face colored. “Nay. I did no’ do what a good man would. I did not see despair when it was before my eyes. I did not want to see it. I was too concerned with myself and what I felt were injustices against me to see those committed against others.”
“Most people never see them,” she said gently, her fingers going to his face. Her gaze rested on his eyes. Despite the lines of exhaustion, his eyes glittered with intensity and she felt his coiled, controlled strength. He was tense, just as she was tense, both of them unsure as to their next step. Did he regret the night they’d made love?
A muscle leaped along his tightened jaws, then his arms went around her. “I missed you,” he said in a hoarse whisper before his lips clamped on hers in a fiery clash. “God, I missed you.” His lips touched hers with a hungering need that slashed at her heart, then he deepened the kiss, his mouth fusing with hers passionately, even savagely. She responded with a frantic need of her own.
Her hands played with the back of his neck, with hair dampened by Highland fog, and she knew a want so deep and fierce she could scarcely bear it. Their lips melded, dueled, loved. Tenderness turned savage, hungry, then gentle again, like mist after a heavy storm. His lips lingered on hers for a moment, then he released them, his fingers threading through her hair. “I have never been so eager, nor fearful, of returning home,” he said with a wry smile.
“Do not ever be fearful,” she said. “Not of me.”
“Ah, but you are a fearful wench,” he said. “You possess a magic that has enveloped me.”
“Then I hope the spell will last forever.”
Anguish swept across his face, and she knew he still had not forgotten his vow, nor accepted that he had broken it.
“You are tired, my lord,” she said, taking his hand and starting toward the door.
“The books?”
“I will fetch them in the morning.”
His fingers tightened around hers. She took the candle in her other hand and led the way past her room and to his own. She could not stay here this night. Colin might wake and she did not want the household to know what had happened between them.
She had not been in his room before. It was spartan in comparison to other rooms, furnished with a wardrobe, a table, a chair and a narrow bed. It was a soldier’s room, she thought, and she reminded herself that he had been that.
She set the candle down and turned to him. He stood perfectly still, and she untied his cloak, then unbuttoned the jerkin he wore over his customary shirt with flowing sleeves. Then she went to the table that contained a tray with a bottle of spirits and glasses. She poured a sizeable portion into a glass and handed it to him.
He took one sip, then another.
His gaze met hers. “I will go,” she said. “You need rest.”
“You rest me,” he said. “You make me content.”
“Not always.”
“Nay, for truth. You are like fire in my blood as well as a cool resting place, lass. ’Tis a heady combination.”
“When this is over …”
“When this over,” he finished, “we will talk. Cumberland would like nothing more than a marriage between us. But the risks are great, lass, and you must be sure.” He put a finger to her lips as she started to speak. “No, lass. Not now. And now you had best return to your son. I will visit you at the cottage.”
She stood on tiptoes and kissed him slowly, a promise in every deliberately seductive touch.
Then she broke away and walked out the door and to her room.
The sound of strings tuning up filled the great hall as carriage after carriage arrived and gaily dressed and masked passengers descended and entered.
Neil tried to hide his anxiety. Where in the hell was Reginald Campbell? All the planning, all the preparations would be for naught if he did not appear.
At least one of his prayers had been answered. Cumberland had arrived earlier in the day with several of his officers. He had asked about Janet and Neil had told him what he had told everyone, that she had to go to Lochaene but was expected back at any time.
They’d shared a drink together and Neil had presented him with a keg of the brandy he had bought from the smugglers. Cumberland took a sip, then nodded his head. “I should arrest you just as I should have arrested your cousin,” he said as he licked his lips. “But no one else has been able to find me its like in this godforsaken country.”
“And I would not risk arrest for anyone but you, Your Grace,” Neil retorted. “I was but following your suggestion.”
Cumberland chuckled. “You have your cousin’s wit.”
Cumberland had retired then until the ball. Neil noticed he took the brandy with him.
The guests who were staying overnight arrived during the afternoon. Each time a carriage—or a horseman—approached, Neil went out to meet them, trying to feign a welcome jocularity he did not feel. He only wanted this night over.
In between greeting guests, he agonized over whether Reginald had taken the bait. He had not heard from Alex; they had agreed Alex should start for the coast. It was essential that he and the children be there for the meeting, and they would be dodging English patrols. But Neil felt sure that either Alex or Burke would have communicated with him if they thought Reginald would not be coming.
The carriages became a steady stream at nine o’clock, and slowed by ten. Neil went inside the hall. Guests in colorful costumes, including jesters and harlequins, filled the great hall and the corridors. Laughter spilled out as guests tried to guess the identity of one another. Some, like him, merely wore formal clothing along with elegant masks. He had donned a dark blue velvet waistcoat trimmed with silver, an overcoat of the same material, a ruffled shirt, stock with a diamond solitaire, white silk stocking and shoes with silver buckles. He wore a plain powdered wig tied back in a queue. He felt a fraud in the finery, some of which once belonged to his cousin, some of which he had ordered in Edinburgh.
But it was important that he look prosperous and settled for his neighbors. He knew many regarded him as a bastard upstart, just as they had his cousin. He did not give a rat’s ass for their opinion, except he wanted no interference with what many would believe were his almost revolutionary plans for his estates.
The costume ball had been an especially attractive draw to those he wanted to attend. It was more an English entertainment than a dour Presbyterian Scottish one.
He bent his ear and listened to conversation, trying to look interested even as he kept an eye on the door. He also fended off advances from any number of young lasses. Bastard or not, he was now a wealthy and unattached marquis, and a valuable catch.
He had almost given up when a doorman opened the great door. “The honorable Reginald Campbell,” he announced.
Lucy gave Janet’s hair one last look. She had drawn it back into a French knot in back of her head, from which a few long curls fell over her right shoulder.
The maid was beside herself with excitement. “I am so pleased ye arrived in time for the ball,” she said. “Ye must have ridden day and night.”
“Aye,” said Janet who had slipped in the servants’ entrance and up the servants’ stairs just an hour earlier and made her way to her room shielded by a long cloak and hood. She then went by the nursery. Clara and Trilby were looking after the children, but both had on their best dresses, and she knew they hoped to sneak down and watch from the stairs.
Grace and Rachel jumped up with large grins on their faces. Annabe
lla was playing on the floor with Colin, and she waited until Janet leaned down and hugged them. “I missed you all.”
“Are you going to the ball, mama?” Grace asked.
“Aye, but it is to be a surprise, and you are not to tell anyone. ’Tis a secret between you and me.” She gave each of her daughters a hug. “I missed you,” she said again, then she went to Colin and picked him up. She had been away from him for three days, except for a short visit when Neil had brought him to the cottage.
She turned to Clara. “I want someone with the children all evening,” she said.
“Aye, my lady,” Clara said. “Can we take turns and peek out?”
“Aye,” she said, “but I do not want you to tell anyone but the marquis that I have returned.” Then she gave them an impish grin. “I am in mourning and I do not want anyone to know my identity. If anyone asks, I have not returned.”
Both Clara and Trilby nodded their heads.
She had seen Neil for several moments. Everything was ready, he said. Kevin would be watching for Reginald and replace whatever was in his saddlebags with a few of the Black Knave’s belongings.
She wished she could feel a moment’s sympathy for Reginald, but she could not. He had endangered the lives of her children as well as her own.
She only hoped she could play her part well enough. She had to unmask in front of Cumberland and Reginald. And wait for his reaction. Had Neil judged him well? So much depended on it. She would never feel safe as long as Reginald plotted. Nor, she feared even more, would her son ever be safe.
She donned the black dress, and Lucy helped her with the gauze overdress that gave the illusion that she floated in the air.
“Lucy?” she said.
The Heart Queen Page 39
