'Yes, Mother.' I countered Mother's assault by passive agreement. While my words said one thing, my mind was elsewhere, wondering how I could learn more about Captain Ferintosh.
'Six cases,' Father mumbled, making notes on a pad with pen-and-ink. 'Some thief is stealing quality foodstuffs and clothing. I'll have to watch that.'
'Once you meet him,' Mother ignored Father's semi-coherent muttering, 'you won't wish to meet anybody else.'
'Yes, Mother,' I agreed, thinking about Captain Ferintosh's most amazing eyes.
'Poaching and trespass,' Father trimmed the nib of his pen with a pen-knife. 'Some bold rascal has stolen a coach from Inveresk.'
'You have similar tastes to this gentleman.' Mother continued. 'You can't say that about many young men, Mary. You are the most awkward child.'
We had been through this conversation before. 'I am not a child, Mother,' I said.
'Drunkenness,' Father added to his notes.
'No, Mary, you are not a child,' Mother said. 'I am glad you finally realise that. You are a nearly of age to become a woman. It's high time you began to accept your responsibilities. You must take an interest in things outside your own immediate concern.'
'Yes, Mother,' I remembered the speed with which Captain Ferintosh had acted and the manner in which those two scoundrels accepted his authority. I liked Captain Ferintosh's term: scoundrels. It sounded just right. I repeated it: scoundrels.
'Scoundrels,' Father said.
'Scoundrels, Father?' I interrupted Father's work. 'Who are these scoundrels?'
'My word, Mary.' Father looked up. 'You must have been listening to your mother's advice after all. You are taking an interest in things outside your immediate concern.'
I hid my surprise. I had thought that Father was too deep in his pending court cases to listen to anything that Mother prattled and here he was, aware of all that had been said. 'Yes, Father.'
'I have half a dozen cases today,' Father explained. 'Four of them are small affairs of only local interest, simple trespass, poaching and drunkenness. The other two are for smuggling illicit whisky, a pair of scoundrels who were caught sneaking into Haddington with puncheons of raw peat reek.'
Peat reek, you may wish to know, was our name for illicitly distilled whisky. 'Whatever happened to innocent until proven guilty, father?' I wondered if the whisky smugglers were the same two scoundrels I had encountered on the muir.
Father looked up. 'These two were caught with the puncheons draped over the back of a pony. There is no doubt as to their guilt.'
'What will happen to them?'
For a moment, Father looked concerned. 'I can sentence them to jail, fine them or order them to a higher court. I won't decide until I hear all the evidence.'
That was better; Father had not decided on the gallows' noose just yet.
'These two are only petty criminals,' Father said. 'They might be young men led astray by the supposed glamour of smuggling, or family men who need some extra money to feed their families. If so I will be lenient. If I find they have a history of smuggling and law-breaking; if they are criminals by habit and reputation, then I will have to be stern.' He shook his head. 'I don't like sentencing men or women to long periods of imprisonment or worse.'
I could not see Father as a hanging judge. 'Worse?'
'I could sentence them to the stocks, the pillory, or even a whipping.' Father looked decidedly sorrowful. 'No, Mary, my position as a magistrate is one of terrible responsibility. I do not take my decisions lightly.' He looked away. 'If only I could catch the people at the top of the tree, the kings and queens rather than the pawns. Then I could end the whole thing.'
I thought of a king of crime, imagining a Jonathan Wilde, Johnny Armstrong or Rob Roy MacGregor. There was undoubtedly an aura of romance about such men, despite, or perhaps because of, their lawless activities. Men of spirit seemed so much more interesting than the dull-but-worthy farmers who tilled the soil and took no risks year after year. 'Is there such a person as a king of crime?'
Father put down his papers. 'Not as such,' he said. 'Perhaps in Edinburgh or London or some such place some people organise thieves to rob specific places, but out here the worst we have to contend with are the sorners, gypsies and whisky smugglers.' He sighed. 'They are bad enough in all conscience.'
I have already spoken of the whisky smugglers, and we still have roving bands of gypsies, although not as many or as troublesome as they were back in my youth. Sorners are virtually unknown now. They were men and women outside the law who wandered from place to place causing trouble. Often moving in bands a dozen or a score strong they had been known to terrorise small villages or even take over lonely farm steadings. I had never seen a sorner and never wished to.
'If there were such a person as a king of crime,' I wondered, 'what would you do?'
'Your father would do whatever he thought best.' Mother could not stand listening to a conversation without putting in her tuppence worth. 'He would call out the army and hang the rogue.'
'After a fair trial,' I said.
'There would be no need for a trial for such a man,' Mother could be much bloodier than Father. If she were to be the local magistrate rather than Father, there would be no crime in the area, for the simple reason that she would have any culprit hanged even before he could plead guilty.
'Surely that would be very autocratic,' I said.
'This country needs a strong hand,' Mother said. 'We are far too lenient with the ragamuffins that infest the highways and byways.'
When I thought of the two distillers who had attacked me, I could not suppress my shudder. Thank goodness for Captain Ferintosh. 'Maybe you are right.'
Mother had not missed my reaction. That woman had eyes like a cat. 'That's not like you, Mary,' she said. 'You're normally more indulgent with law-breakers. What's changed?'
'Oh, nothing.' If I mentioned the scoundrels, I would also have to talk about the captain. I was not yet ready to do that. I wished to hug his memory to me for some time yet. Captain Ferintosh was mine and mine alone.
My attention wandered away from my mother's conversation. John Aitken indeed. I scoffed at the name. I had no need of a John Aitken, a name as plain as Mary Hepburn. I had Captain Ferintosh, a braw gallant, as the song goes, a man of style and authority, a man to whom excitement clung like mist to the heather. I imagined Captain Ferintosh on the quarterdeck of a fast smuggling lugger, or Captain Ferintosh in command of a King's ship, giving orders to defeat the French, or Captain Ferintosh in the brave scarlet of the Army, marching in front of a scarlet-coated company in some bloody European battlefield.
'You're not normally so bloody,' Mother caught my thoughts as she interrupted my dreaming.
'I've been listening to Father,' I said. 'He's quite right, you know, Mother. Some of these rogues are the most unpleasant of men.'
Mother nodded, slowly. 'I am glad that you finally realise what an important job your father does.' I knew that she was wondering why I had changed my mind. The memory of Simmy and Peter was fresh. Only Captain Ferintosh could chase away the horror of that brief encounter. I hugged his image to my breast, wishing I had time to pursue my dreams. I could not do it here, at the breakfast table.
'I will spend the morning within the walled garden,' I said.
I felt mother's gaze on me. 'Think about Mr John Aitken,' she said.
I had no intention of thinking of John Aitken. I had a far more interesting gentleman to occupy my thoughts.
Chapter Three
I did not see him until I had been working for quite some time. I looked up from the apple tree I had been pruning, and there he was.
'Captain Ferintosh!' I did not try to hide my pleasure. 'How did you get in?'
'Miss Hepburn.' Captain Ferintosh stepped clear of the shadows. 'I apologise for disturbing you in this manner.'
'Oh, no,' I brushed the hair clear of my eyes. My hair always had a tendency to flop across my eyes, especially at the most awkward moments. 'Th
ere is no need to apologise, Captain Ferintosh.' I waited to see what he wanted.
'I've been watching you all day,' Captain Ferintosh swept off his tricorne hat and made an elegant bow.
'Oh?' I curtseyed as best I could. 'Why is that, pray?'
'There is only one reason for a man to spend five hours watching a young lady,' Captain Ferintosh said.
'And what may that be?' I raised my eyebrows, wishing that I was more presentable for the good Captain. I wondered what he had seen of me. What had I been doing that morning? Nothing embarrassing I hoped. I had been helping Mr Mitchell; that was perhaps not ladylike, but it was harmless.
'To admire everything she does,' Captain Ferintosh said.
I gestured to the garden. 'I was not doing anything special,' I said.
'Everything you do is special to me.' My gallant Captain stepped closer, replacing his hat.
'Why, thank you, sir.' Once again I was enchanted by those dark eyes with the long lashes.
'I crave two favours of you,' Captain Ferintosh said. 'I know I have no right to ask.'
'Ask anything,' I said, recklessly.
'The first is the opportunity to see you again.'
'That I will grant, gladly,' I said with a smile, as my heart beat faster. I was sure that Captain Ferintosh could see my agitation. 'If it can be arranged.'
'I am aware of the rules of decorum,' Captain Ferintosh said. 'I will not compromise your respectability by having you being seen with me unchaperoned in a public place.'
'It would be more scandalous to be caught in a private place with a strange man.' I said, wishing I had a fan to open and hide behind. Captain Ferintosh must have seen the flaming blush that crossed my face.
'Am I so strange?' Captain Ferintosh asked.
'That, sir, I will have to judge for myself,' I fenced with words. 'I certainly hope so, Captain. I have no desire to waste my time with a man who is as mundane as everybody else.'
My captain bowed from the waist while still managing to hold my gaze. I could swear that he was laughing at me.
'You said you had two favours,' I reminded. 'May I inquire about the nature of the second?'
'I crave a kiss.' My bold captain told me.
I had hoped for no less. 'A kiss, sir?' I widened my eyes in pretended shock. 'La! I am a lady. I do not part with my kisses lightly.'
'I am glad to hear it,' Captain Ferintosh did not advance one single iota. I had hoped he would rush forward and sweep me off my feet, carry me into the shelter of the cabbage plants and…
'One kiss only,' I ended my fantasy.
'One kiss only.' Captain Ferintosh stepped forward. Placing a hand behind my head, he bent over me. His lips were softer than I had imagined as they touched mine, so lightly that they might have been the feathers of a bird. I responded, pressing back. I had never kissed a man before, except my father and sundry uncles and men who pretended to be uncles. I could feel the hammering of my heart and the harshness of my breathing, yet Captain Ferintosh was so gentle that I need not have been concerned.
'There.' He stepped back, smiling.
'There.' I stepped back with one hand to my throat. I stared at him, not sure what to say or do. It had been a kiss, but not the kiss I had expected. In my mind, kisses were full of passion, with a man's hands holding me tight and his lips pressed firmly against mine. Captain Ferintosh's kiss had not been like that. I wanted more.
'Captain Ferintosh,' I said.
'Yes?' His eyebrows rose. Again, I could have sworn that he was mocking me.
'One kiss is not sufficient,' I said.
'Are you asking for another?'
'I am.'
Captain Ferintosh stepped forward again. This time I knew what to expect and met his lips with my own. I pressed harder than before and slipped my hands around him. You would be right to think me shameless for I felt no shame at all. That man utterly captivated me in ways I still cannot describe. Even now I can feel his hard, lean body as I pulled it closer to me. Even now I can relive the rich aroma of his tobacco.
His hands crept around my shoulders and my waist. Suddenly I was not quite so sure of myself. Captain Ferintosh was now very much in control. His second kiss was as different from his first as a hawk is from a sparrow. His strength was immense, his hands hard as they supported me. I felt lost within his grasp.
When he released me, I was gasping for breath. I did not wish his hands to leave me. I did not wish him to be anywhere but with me.
'Captain Ferintosh!' I could say no more. My throat had closed up. I was trembling. My breathing was ragged. In short, I was a physical and emotional wreck.
'And now, my Lady Mary,' Captain Ferintosh gave a great sweeping bow. 'I must leave you. If you could make your way to Haddington for ten forenoon this next market day, I shall meet you there.'
'People will see us,' I said the first words to come into my head.
'Is that so bad?' Captain Ferintosh asked. 'I would be proud to be seen with you. Would you be ashamed to be seen in my company?'
'No, no,' I struggled to make myself understood. 'I do not mean that at all, Captain. I mean…' I was not sure what I meant. 'My father and mother would come to hear of it. People talk.'
'People do talk,' Captain Ferintosh agreed. 'We will not do anything indecorous.'
I took a deep breath. 'My parents have a man in mind for me. A Mr John Aitken. They would not be pleased to hear of me in the company of another, particularly such a gallant and handsome fellow as you.' There: it was said.
Captain Ferintosh took a single step backwards into the shadow of the trees. 'I thank you for your high opinion of me, Lady Mary, and for your honesty.'
I waited for his words of condemnation, for his rejection of such an undutiful daughter as I was proving myself. They did not come.
'Do you have strong feelings for Mr John Aitken?'
I had not expected that question. 'I have never met the gentleman,' I admitted.
'Do you wish to?'
I pondered that. 'Having met Captain Ferintosh, I have no real desire to meet any other gentleman, who would be inferior, I am sure.'
Captain Ferintosh smiled. 'You are a very forthright woman, my Lady Mary.'
'I speak only the truth, sir. I was brought up never to tell a lie, and I am resolved never to do so.' If only I had known then how soon it would be before I came the most accomplished of liars, in deeds if not in words.
'I presume that your parents are hoping for an advantageous marriage with this Mr John Aitken fellow?'
'I presume that is the case,' I said.
'Your father, Mr Andrew Hepburn, is the local JP is he not?'
'That is correct,' I said.
'He is a most respectable man.' Captain Ferintosh glanced toward the house. The walled garden was so situated that it caught the best of the sun, while the walls retained the heat and bounced it back to the plants. With the house being some distance away, we were as safe from observation within the garden as we would be anywhere on my father's lands, unless the gardener appeared.
'My father is the best of men,' I agreed.
'Do you still think him the best of men despite his attempting you into matrimony with an unknown John Aitken?'
'That is one of his little foibles,' I said. 'I am sure he has the best of intentions.' I was not happy with Father, but I would not be disloyal to him.
'It is a very strange foible,' Captain Ferintosh shook his head. 'I do not approve of such things. I think every woman and every man should be free to choose their own path to love, whether that path is conventional or not. Don't you agree, Miss Hepburn?'
'I do agree,' I said. Caught up in the magic of his smile, I would have agreed to virtually anything Captain Ferintosh said.
'Freedom is a noble thing,' Captain Ferintosh repeated my earlier words. 'The freedom to choose, the freedom to live one's life without petty restrictions, the freedom to say what one wants and live with whomever one pleases.' I swear that the captain's eyes were glowing
as he spoke.
He certainly convinced me. 'I am a great believer in freedom.'
'Strike off your bonds,' Captain Ferintosh said. 'Meet me at the Mercat Cross in Haddington at ten forenoon.' Bending forward, he kissed me a third time, as if to seal the bargain. 'I promise I will do nothing untoward, Miss Hepburn, and nobody of consequence will even glimpse us together.'
Before I could answer, Captain Ferintosh had stepped back. I did not see him leave the walled garden yet when Mr Mitchell wandered in, pushing a squeaking wheelbarrow, the place was deserted.
Chapter Four
It is never easy for a young woman to travel alone. There are so many restrictions, whether or not she intends to meet a man of whom her parents would be unlikely to approve. In such situations, one must resort to subterfuge, if not downright lies. Now, I am no great believer in falsehoods of any kind, but I was so enamoured with Captain Ferintosh that I spun a web of fabrication purely to see him again. I wonder how many young women, or young men, have not done similar when courting?
I was fortunate that I had a most particular friend in Catherine Brown. Catherine was the daughter of Archibald Brown of Laverockhill, a most respectable farmer who Father knew well. Catherine was a brown-haired, brown-eyed woman of my own age and the most amiable disposition it was possible to imagine. That very afternoon, I sent a servant with a note to Catherine; she returned the favour before evening, and after a flurry of note-exchanging that must have exhausted the servants, I had the arrangements in place.
'I would like to visit Haddington Market,' I said, quite truthfully, to Father as we sat to our evening meal.
'Why?' Mother was instantly suspicious.
'I have a particular friend who asked me to go there.' I said, still truthfully.
'Archie Brown told me that Catherine expressed a similar interest,' Father smiled over his legal papers. 'I wonder if she could be your particular friend.'
I felt Mother's relief.
'She has been my particular friend for many years,' I agreed. So you see, I did not tell a single lie but acted a complete falsehood.
The Name Of Love (Lowland Romance Book 4) Page 3
