Harlequin Historical September 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: The Lone SheriffThe Gentleman RogueNever Trust a Rebel

by Lynna Banning

  ‘No.’ She caught his good arm. ‘It is not late and it will do you good to step outside for a little while. Do come with me, we can watch the sunset from the gardens.’

  She thought at first he would refuse, but with a shrug he went outside with her. The shrubbery was so overgrown that it was impossible to walk there, but Elyse followed the route she had taken earlier in the day, descending the terrace steps to a series of wide gravel walks that were not yet impassable. They strolled together, not touching, but Elyse was very conscious of the man at her side. She could almost feel the tension in him, his anger ready to boil over.

  ‘This would be so pretty, with a little management,’ she remarked, in an effort to distract him. ‘I believe there is only the one gardener now, and he spends all his time looking after the orchards and the kitchen garden.’

  ‘Yes.’

  She glanced up. His face was set, the eyes shuttered.

  ‘Do you take the blame for that, too?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Why should you do that?’

  ‘My actions led to most of my father’s estate being seized by the Crown. There would have been fines to pay, too, as well as the ignominy of having a rebel in the family. My father paid dear for my treachery. It would have been necessary to retrench.’

  Elyse tucked her hand into his arm and gave it a little squeeze.

  She said gently, ‘Will you not tell me what happened?’

  ‘There is nothing to tell. I allied myself with the Pretender in ’forty-five. He was defeated and thus all his supporters are traitors. The family was fortunate not to lose everything because of me.’

  ‘But you were no more than a boy.’

  ‘I was deemed old enough to know my own mind. To join forces with the rebels in an effort to force King George from the English throne. It is treason.’

  They descended a flight of shallow steps to another weed-strewn gravel path. Elyse looked back, they were well away from the house now.

  ‘I would like to hear your story.’ When he hesitated she added with a smile, ‘My father must have thought there was some good in you, to make you my guardian.’

  ‘He was the only one to think so.’

  They walked on and Elyse maintained her silence. After a while she was rewarded when he began to speak.

  ‘I had just reached my fifteenth birthday and went north to stay with my uncle, my mother’s brother, in Strathmore. It was meant to be a short visit, a month at the most, then I would return to my schooling, but while I was there news came that the Prince had landed in Scotland. My uncle had always been a Jacobite, the family had been involved in the uprising in ’fifteen when they had lost all their titles and only narrowly escaped with their lives.

  ‘That was a hard time for Mama’s family. She was sent to live with friends in York, where it was hoped she might avoid the taint of belonging to a family of traitors. That is where she met my father and they fell in love. He married her and brought her here to Hartcombe, his family home. Despite my father’s disapproval Mama kept in touch with her family, and even persuaded him to allow Simon and me to visit them occasionally. She thought there could be no harm, she had no Jacobite leanings herself and did not think we were in any danger that we would be persuaded by her brother’s fanatical ravings for what she considered a lost cause. She was only half-right. Simon was the studious one, sensible and home-loving. I was always more restless, seeking adventure and impatient of books and learning.’ He stopped, momentarily diverted. ‘How could he have been so cork-brained as to take out a half-trained horse?’

  ‘Sir Edward said he did not have your way with animals.’

  ‘But all the same—he was meant to be the clever one.’

  ‘Were you very close?’

  ‘Close enough, until I went to Scotland that last time. After that I never heard from him again.’ His lip curled. ‘After I was declared a traitor my father sent a message to say he had forbidden any contact with me. I was cast off, no longer considered a member of his family. I never quite believed it. I was constantly on the move but I wrote to Hartcombe when I could, to let the family know where I could be reached. I only ever received one letter. That was from my father, four years ago, informing me that my mother had died. That I had killed her.’

  She stopped. ‘Oh, Drew.’

  ‘Do not waste your pity on me, madam, remember that I am a traitor.’

  He had thrown off her hand and was standing stiff and rigid as stone. His face was a cold mask Elyse shivered, not knowing how to reach him. After a few moments she spoke, saying gently,

  ‘We should walk on if we are not to become chilled.’

  ‘Yes, of course.’

  They walked on, the shadows lengthening around them as the sun dropped towards the horizon.

  ‘How did she die?’ asked Elyse.

  ‘I broke her heart.’

  ‘I do not believe that.’

  He shrugged.

  ‘My father told me she was struck down when the news arrived that there was a price on my head. She never recovered.’

  Not knowing the words to comfort him, Elyse took his arm again.

  ‘I would like to know what happened to you in the ’forty-five, Drew, if you can bear to tell me.’

  He waved his hand dismissively.

  ‘You cannot really wish to hear such an unedifying tale.’

  ‘I do,’ she assured him. ‘And sometimes talking about things helps to heal old wounds.’

  ‘Not mine.’

  ‘I would still like to hear your story.’

  ‘Very well.’ He paused, as if deciding where to begin. ‘The summer of ’forty-five, Simon was preparing to go to Oxford so I went to Strathmore alone. I should explain; the Jacobite leanings of my mother’s family were never mentioned at Hartcombe. She had quite given up the cause, and my father was a staunch Hanoverian. It says something for the strength of his love for Mama that he allowed us to visit Strathmore. Whenever we went there my uncle was more than willing to entertain us with stories of the daring escapades of his ancestors, and of their loyalty to the Stuarts. They were tales of honour and the fight for a noble cause, just the sort of thing to catch the imagination of a boy longing for adventure. When the Prince landed in Scotland and my uncle rode off to join him, I went with him.’

  A tiny cloud passed across the setting sun and there was a momentary dimming of the light. Elyse pulled her shawl a little closer and patiently waited for Drew to continue.

  ‘The reality of the uprising was very different from the noble enterprise I had dreamed of. Oh, there was plenty of bravery and displays of courage, especially in those early days when success came easily, but I also saw crass mismanagement and self-serving advancement amongst the Prince’s followers. Things went from bad to worse once the army turned back at Derby. There were minor skirmishes on the way north, and the odd victory, but the men were disheartened and demoralised. I was wounded at Falkirk Muir and didn’t follow the Prince back to Culloden, which is where my uncle died, along with so many others. It was a bloody, bitter defeat and the government determined to crush the rebels completely.

  ‘I had acquitted myself well in previous battles, but that worked against me and I found myself with a price on my head. I went into hiding and eventually my mother’s family smuggled me across to the Continent.’ When he paused she glanced up and saw that his lips had thinned to a bloodless line. ‘Charles and his supporters had returned to France by then, but any thoughts I had of being welcomed into their ranks were quickly dashed. I was a poor wretch, disowned by my father: the last word I had from him before I fled Scotland was that my actions had laid my mother so low she was not expected to live. So I arrived in France without connections or money—just another burden. I was not yet sixteen, alone and far from home. I changed my name and did wh
at I could to survive.’

  He stopped. Elyse could only guess at the black days that followed. She thought of the scars and wheals she had seen on his body and shuddered.

  ‘You became a mercenary.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You were lucky to escape with your life.’ She added quickly, ‘You may not agree, but I am very thankful for it. You were a true friend to my father; you have proved as much by your behaviour towards me.’

  ‘Do not make a hero of me, Elyse, I am nothing of the sort.’

  She returned his troubled gaze frankly and with a warm smile.

  ‘I know that, silly, but I also know I can trust you to keep me safe.’

  ‘Only until Michaelmas, my dear. After that...’

  Something flared in his eyes, causing the breath to catch in her throat.

  She stopped and prompted him. ‘After that?’

  Elyse watched as the fire died from his gaze. He gave a bitter laugh, patted her hand and obliged her to walk on beside him.

  ‘After that,’ he said lightly, ‘you are no longer my concern.’

  Elyse accompanied him in silence. That is not what he had meant, she was sure of it. That look in his eyes hinted at something quite different. She had found it unsettling and even a little frightening. Surely the sudden heat that flooded her body, the way she wanted to cling to him, such were the feelings one should have for one’s husband. One’s lover.

  She gave herself a little inward shake. Such thoughts had only occurred because she was lonely and missing William, but that would not be for much longer. They would be together soon. At Michaelmas. A few more days and then she would never see Drew again. But she had always known that, had she not? And not so long ago she had thought the day could not come soon enough. She had changed and suddenly Elyse was afraid to consider just how much.

  ‘Well, naturally,’ she said, forcing herself to speak calmly. ‘After that you will not need to look after me, will you? I shall have William to do that.’

  There was the briefest of pauses before he replied.

  ‘Of course.’ They resumed their walk. ‘I propose that we journey to Bath tomorrow.’

  ‘Dr Hall said you must rest for a few more days.’

  ‘We have been here long enough.’

  ‘But you have not left your room until today. You are not strong enough for another journey yet.’

  ‘I thought you would be eager to reach your new family,’ he challenged her.

  ‘I am.’ The words came quickly and she refused to think deeply about the matter. She was only concerned for his well-being, wasn’t she? ‘But surely we can spare one more day for your recovery?’

  ‘My father would not think so. He would not spare me one hour, if he had his way.’

  Her heart went out to him when she heard the bitterness in his voice.

  ‘That is not true,’ she told him. ‘Sir Edward insisted that Dr Hall should be called to attend you as often as was necessary.’

  ‘Only because he does not want the embarrassment of my dying here.’

  ‘Drew!’

  ‘Do not sound so outraged, my dear, I expected nothing else. If it were not for you he would have thrown me out already.’

  ‘I do not believe that. Whatever you have done you are still his son.’

  ‘Has he said so?’

  ‘Well, no, but—’

  He stopped her with a wave of his hand, saying impatiently, ‘You cannot mend everything, Elyse. Do not forget there is a price on my head. I should not even be in England.’

  ‘Then I should go on to Bath alone, as we discussed.’

  ‘No, we discussed it when I thought I would be too ill to come with you. That is no longer the case. I promised your father I would see you safely delivered to the viscount. Besides, I want to assure myself that the marriage settlements are in order.’

  ‘But after Michaelmas you will no longer be my guardian. I could do that myself.’

  ‘You could, of course, but I wish to look them over carefully.’

  ‘Do you not trust Lord Whittlewood?’

  ‘I am acting on your father’s behalf. He would want me to make sure everything was arranged to your advantage. After all, you will now be taking to your new husband a considerable fortune.’

  His remarks barely registered with her. She said, ‘But will it not be dangerous for you, to be in Bath?’

  ‘Not really, unless you disclose my real name.’

  She squeezed his arm.

  ‘I would never betray you, Drew.’

  He covered her fingers, where they rested on the sleeve of his borrowed shirt.

  ‘No, I do not think you would, but you must see that the sooner I get you to Bath the better.’

  She did see it, but the thought of the momentous change that was about to take place in her life was also a little daunting.

  ‘I still believe you should rest as long as possible, and we can spare another twenty-four hours. If we leave early on Michaelmas morning we can still be in Bath before noon. Pray, sir, humour me in this.’

  He sighed. ‘Very well, one more day, but we dare not leave it any longer.’

  ‘Dare not?’ She cast a glance at him. ‘Do you truly believe that if I am not delivered to the viscount by Michaelmas he will call off the wedding?’

  ‘I do.’

  ‘And...do you think that the viscount might be so opposed to the match that he would deliberately try to stop my getting to Bath?’

  ‘What makes you say that?’

  She did not answer immediately.

  ‘I have been thinking,’ she said at last. ‘About the wording of Lord Whittlewood’s letter, and the fact that the family had left London before we arrived. Also, there are the circumstances of the attack upon our carriage.’

  ‘We were travelling a road that is notorious for its footpads and brigands.’

  His reply was guarded and she guessed that he, too, was suspicious. She continued thoughtfully, ‘Does it not seem odd to you that Mr Settle should be taken ill and leave us to travel on alone?’

  ‘Yes, that was a little odd, but it proves nothing.’

  ‘But there is more, Drew. “Pops” is a slang word for firearms, is it not? I thought I heard the coachman cry out “No pops!” after you had fired at the robbers.’

  ‘I daresay he did. It is a common enough expression.’

  ‘But you do not understand. He then said,’ she wrinkled her brow trying to recall the sequence of events. ‘He shouted out, “You said there’d be no shooting.” Or something of that sort. Did you not hear him?’

  ‘No, you imagined it.’

  ‘I did not, I promise you. I have been thinking and thinking about it. At first it made no sense, but then I remembered that the coachman and his guard had been sent out from Bath to meet us, and when you told me the viscount had given you an ultimatum, I thought, perhaps, he had arranged for the coach to be held up.’

  ‘That is merely fanciful nonsense.’

  ‘If that is so, then why was the coachman allowed to drive off unmolested?’

  Drew frowned. ‘Did he do so? I had taken the bullet in my arm by then and confess I did not notice much at all.’

  Elyse nodded. ‘Yes, he did. And the robbers seemed quite startled by your shooting at them.’

  ‘Not too startled to shoot back.’

  ‘I realise that but what if,’ she moistened her lips. ‘What if Mr Settle was a party to the deed? What if, when you decided to accompany me to Bath, Mr Settle panicked and feigned illness rather than be found out?’ She saw Drew’s black frown and added quickly, ‘Oh, I do not think they intended to murder me. Perhaps they merely wanted to frighten me into returning to Scarborough.’

  ‘It sounds very far-fetche
d, Elyse.’

  ‘I know, but we are agreed the viscount does not want me to marry his son.’

  ‘Perhaps not, but—’

  ‘It is possible, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes, it’s possible. ‘

  ‘Oh, how can he be so cruel, when it is what William wants, as much as I?’

  ‘Are you sure it is what Reverson wants, Elyse?’

  ‘Of course.’ She turned her dark eyes up to meet his. ‘I have his letters, telling me so.’

  * * *

  Drew did not answer immediately. If Elyse had heard the coachman correctly then there was some mystery here, but he was not as convinced as Elyse that William Reverson was completely innocent. And if not, then what harm might come of forcing the marriage?

  Quickly Drew put aside such thoughts. Harry was no fool; he must have been assured of his daughter’s happiness when he arranged this union. And it was a chance in a lifetime for her, she would marry into the nobility and never want for anything again.

  Still, he determined to meet the viscount and make up his own mind before he abandoned Elyse to her fate.

  * * *

  The light was fading fast when they returned to the house and Elyse needed her bedroom candle to light her way to her room. She did not go to bed immediately but took out the letters William had written to her. Thank goodness she had put them in the large pockets beneath her travelling gown when she had set out, rather than packing them in her trunk, which had been stolen along with the carriage and all her other belongings.

  She untied the green ribbon that she had fastened around the bundle. There were barely a dozen letters, far less than she had written to him, but William had told her he was no letter-writer. She read through them all again now. They were not fulsome, but neither was there anything in them to make her think that he had changed his mind about marrying her. With a sigh she closed her eyes and clutched the letters against her heart. The viscount might be doing his best to keep them apart, but she was convinced that William was sincere.