Undone - Virginia Henley

by Virginia Henley

  Elizabeth's heart jumped into her mouth.

  John immediately cut his own finger. "Like this." He lifted the digit to his mouth and sucked off the blood. Jamie copied.

  _I don't need a husband, but perhaps Jamie needs a father_. As she watched them, making sure she stayed a short distance away, she began to review the advantages of the marriage he offered. Her glance lingered on the black hair, the strong jaw, and the broad shoulders of the man talking with her son. She knew one thing beyond a doubt: She would never love another man save him. Her mind moved on to the advantages to her son. They were myriad.

  _Surely it is my duty as a mother to put my child before myself? I am honor-bound to do what is best for Jamie. If I allow John to become his father, James George will be the undisputed Duke of Hamilton_. She shivered. John was a military man. The country was fighting a war with France. What if he was killed? And the amazing answer came back to her: _If Jamie were our only son, perhaps he'd be heir to the Dukedom of Argyll, as well as Duke of Hamilton_.

  Surely the small sacrifice of marrying the man she loved would be in Jamie's best interest? He would also have a mother and father who adored him. As Elizabeth closed the gap between them, her eyes softened, and the corners of her mouth lifted.

  John looked up expectantly, ready for her surrender.

  As she met his gaze she realized that he was using her child to control her. Exactly as Hamilton had done. She snatched Jamie away from him. "Go to hellfire, John Campbell! I'll be _double damned_ if I'll ever allow myself to become a _double duchess_!"

  She picked her son up and stalked back inside the castle, ignoring his protests. She found Emma mending a torn sleeve on one of Jamie's shirts. "Pack your things. We are leaving immediately." She opened a bureau drawer, pulled out her son's garments, and put them in his trunk. She left Emma to gather his toys and went to her bedchamber to do her own packing.

  When it was complete she sought out Mr. Burke. "Please tell my driver to ready our coach. We are packed and ready to leave."

  "His lordship sent your carriage to the coachmakers for repair."

  "It needed no repair. Where is my driver?" she demanded.

  "I would tell you his whereabouts if I knew, Your Grace."

  Furious and beside herself with frustration, Elizabeth herded Emma, Jamie, and Dandy into her chamber, turned the key in the lock, and propped her sword against the door frame. It was too late to do anything today, but if her coach and driver were not in evidence in the morning, she would go directly to the powerful Duke of Argyll.

  *Chapter Thirty-Six*

  John Campbell lay in bed, his arms folded behind his head. He cursed himself for the clumsy way he'd handled the situation. He sat up, thumped his pillow for the tenth time, then threw himself down in a futile attempt to make himself comfortable. He was a man who would not accept defeat, even when it stared him in the face.

  His blood was high, as it was in battle; his mood was fierce and dangerous. He flung off the covers and set his feet to the rug, determined to go down to Elizabeth's bedchamber and force her to his will. She was the most infuriating, stubborn female he'd ever encountered. She was deliberately taunting him to resort to violence and, by God, he'd make her yield to him if it was the last thing he did. He'd make love to her until she was writhing and frenzied and moaning in submission. He would demand her unconditional surrender.

  _Why do men always bring sex into it_? He heard her words clearly, as if she had just uttered them. He stood up and thrust his fingers through his black hair in utter frustration. He could easily seduce her physically so that she would willingly, eagerly yield her body to him, but John knew he wanted more than that. He wanted, nay, _needed_ her to surrender her heart and her soul to him.

  He paced his chamber like a caged lion. It made absolutely no sense to him that she refused to be his wife. They had ached to be together for years, and now that the impediment of her husband had been removed, nothing on earth stood in the way of their marriage. They already shared a son, and John wanted to be the father of her future children. The damnedest part was he knew she loved him.

  He poured a dram of whiskey and sat down on the bed to drink it. As he stared down into the amber liquor the fumes met his nose. The smell reminded him of the late Duke of Hamilton. He set the glass down untouched as realization dawned: _Elizabeth isn't rejecting me, she is rejecting marriage to a nobleman. The mere thought of becoming a duchess for the second time terrifies her_!

  He had always known what Hamilton was. It was the reason he'd never dared allow himself to picture her with James. He forced himself to do it now. Beth had been such a delightful free spirit when they first met. He contrasted that with the serene _facade_ of the Duchess of Hamilton. She had been like a puppet, a perfect doll James kept at his side as if she were an ornament. _I knew she feared her mother. Why didn't I see that her fear of Hamilton almost paralyzed her?_

  John ground his teeth in anguish at the abject fear Beth must have felt when she learned that she was carrying his child. _For her own survival she had to pretend her baby was her husband's. She did a convincing job; James swaggered with pride over Jamie_. He went to the window and threw the casement wide. _Hamilton thrived on control. Once Beth had a child, James had the perfect means to control her every move_. He smashed his fist on the stone sill. _Christ Almighty, I tried to use Jamie to control her! To use a child as a pawn is unconscionable_. An inner voice mocked: _And she had the guts to defy you_. John laughed at his own folly.

  Elizabeth was awakened by a knock. When she slipped from the big bed where they'd all slept, Jamie and Emma also roused.

  "It's Mr. Burke. I've brought you breakfast."

  "Leave it outside the door," she instructed warily.

  "I also have a message, ma'am. Your coach and driver are ready at your convenience in the courtyard."

  She opened the door. "Mr. Burke, do I have your word that this is not a trick? That I am free to leave and take my son with me?"

  "You have my word, Your Grace."

  With hot food in their bellies and their warmest garments on their backs, the trio descended the turret stairs, followed by Dandy and servants carrying their trunks. Elizabeth felt relief when she saw her waiting coach but stiffened when she saw John Campbell.

  He walked toward them across the courtyard. "Beth, I humbly apologize." He handed her a letter.

  She took it then deliberately let it flutter to the flagstones before she stepped up into the carriage. She did not see Jamie scoop it up before Emma lifted him into her waiting arms, but she was aghast when her son waved and shouted, "Bye-bye, Daddy!"

  "He is _not_ --" Elizabeth pressed her lips together and set Jamie on the leather seat beside the dog, then she tucked the dark blue-and-green Campbell plaid about him. She cast Emma an accusing glance.

  "I never told him. He's just wishful thinking."

  As the driver released the brake, Elizabeth turned her head away from John Campbell and looked in the opposite direction. She held her breath, still half expecting him to prevent their leaving.

  At Strone the carriage stopped so they could enjoy the lunch that had been packed for them in a big basket. The coachman watered the horses and sat down on the grass to eat his food. Elizabeth allowed Jamie and Dandy to have a good run while she picked a purple sprig of Highland heather, then they piled back into the coach for the long journey ahead. As the carriage swayed, she absently lifted the heather to her nose. _This is too easy_!

  In the afternoon the sky became overcast. Though the wind kept the rain off, evening would close in early. She entertained Jamie with a game of animal-spotting. Sheep and cattle were too numerous to count but they saw many deer, a few foxes, and, when they neared water, saw playful otters. As if she had a warning premonition, Beth occasionally glanced back along the road. The third time she looked she saw something in the distance that could possibly be a rider. The hair on the nape of her neck began to prickle, but she told herself to stop being fanciful.
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  Emma dozed and finally Jamie's eyelids closed. When the road curved, Elizabeth again took the opportunity to look back. This time there was no mistaking the darkly cloaked rider mounted on a black horse. She cursed beneath her breath: _I knew it was too easy. Damn you to hellfire, John Campbell_! She glanced back at ten-minute intervals, glad that the rider did not seem to be gaining on them. Just before the afternoon light left the sky, a drizzling rain started to fall.

  The driver stopped to have a word with her. "The town of Arrochar lies about five miles ahead. There's a good inn, Your Grace. Would you like to stop for the night?"

  "No, no ... I'd rather go on. And could you pick up the pace a little? I don't expect to get all the way to Dunbarton tonight, but perhaps we could get to Luss on Loch Lomond?"

  Dusk fell, making it impossible for Elizabeth to see if the rider still followed, but she felt his presence in her bones. She hoped the rain would make him take shelter at Arrochar or at least slow him down. After two hours Jamie awoke. "Have to pee."

  "Can't you hold it a little while longer?"

  "No!"

  She opened the picnic basket and took out a cup. Emma opened her eyes and shifted about to get more comfortable.

  "I peed in the cup, Emma!" Jamie informed her.

  "I hope your mother doesn't expect me to do the same."

  "I'm sorry. We're going to stop at the town of Luss--it can't be much farther." She bit her lip. "I think he's following us."

  When they arrived at the inn, someone came out for their luggage while their driver saw to his horses. Elizabeth paid for three rooms, hoping they were the last ones available. When she went upstairs she made sure that the keys actually locked the doors.

  Elizabeth ordered supper for Emma and Jamie, then she washed her face and brushed her hair. After their food came, she handed Emma the room key. "Lock the door after me and don't open it to anyone while I'm gone." She went down to the common room and ordered some mulled wine, then she waited for him. _I know him too well_ -- _cold rain and darkness won't deter him_. By the time she had finished the wine, her blood was warm and her temper hot. She was ready, nay, she was _eager_ for the coming confrontation!

  It took only a half hour for the traveler to arrive. As the innkeeper went out to the yard to welcome the man and direct his hostler to tend his stallion, Elizabeth went rigid with tension.

  The tall, dark Scot stepped through the inn door and swept off his rain-soaked cape. As his hand brushed back the wet black hair from his face, Elizabeth stood transfixed, _It isn't him_!

  The man gave her a long, appreciative look then nodded.

  She was at a complete loss. The disappointment she felt was staggering. _What the devil is the matter with me? I should be immensely relieved_! She told herself she was disappointed because she'd been deprived of a fight, but her innate honesty asserted itself. _Admit the truth: You were secretly flattered at the thought of Campbell following you to beg you to change your mind_. Elizabeth sat for awhile, as if she were still waiting. The rain stopped, and some of the townspeople arrived for their weekly get-together. She was lost in thought and didn't notice the curious stares she received. When a piper began a lively skirl and people began to laugh, she came out of her reverie and retreated upstairs.

  Emma unlocked the door. "Well?" she asked expectantly.

  "It... it wasn't him." Elizabeth sounded forlorn.

  "Then your worries are over." Emma sounded sardonic.

  "Oh, Jamie, you mustn't let Dandy have paper--he'll chew it up and choke." She bent down and took away the envelope that the pair were using to play tug-of-war. She saw her name, _Beth_, written on it. She opened it and saw that it was from John. Her legs felt weak as she sat down to read the letter.

  Elizabeth:

  When I asked you to be my wife, I did not wish to marry the Duchess of Hamilton. I wanted Elizabeth Gunning, the Titania who first stole my heart. Rather than a beautiful ornament, I wanted a woman who would be an equal partner in my life. The quality I most admire is courage. I am happy you have acquired it in abundance.

  I am confident you also have the intelligence and integrity to look after your son's interests, so I relinquish any claim to him. You have earned the right to direct your own life and make your own decisions. Though disconsolate that I am not included in your future, I understand and will respect your decision. I am returning the love token you gave me, so you will believe that I set you free.

  John Campbell

  Beth quickly tore open the envelope and the bright curl he had cut from her hair fell into her hand. As she looked down at it, a lump came into her throat. The letter had a postscript:

  P.S. If you or your son ever need my help in any way, send me the brass button from my uniform.

  The curl reminded her of the one she had cut from Charlotte's hair to give to William. Beth realized that she was still wearing the jade-green habit that had once belonged to her dear friend. Her eyes flooded with tears. "Oh, Charlie, you and Will were so much in love, and your time together was so short." Beth was completely undone. She glanced up at Emma and realized she had spoken aloud.

  Emma searched Elizabeth's face and saw the teardrops sparkling on her eyelashes. When she smiled, Emma's heart filled with joy.

  "I shall leave you alone with your thoughts. The piping and laughter below are irresistible. I think I'll join the revelers."

  A short time later, when Emma had struck up a conversation with the Scots in the common room and enjoyed a few glasses of wine, she decided to satisfy their avid curiosity about her mistress. It seemed that everyone wanted to know who she was, and where she was going. "She is Elizabeth, Duchess of Hamilton, on her way to marry the future Duke of Argyll," Emma confided importantly.

  Early the next morning, the inn yard was filled with curious spectators. As Elizabeth climbed into her carriage and turned to take Jamie from Emma's arms, the people cheered. As the coach drove north, the townspeople of Luss stood on the road, waving as she passed. "Emma, why are all these people here?"

  "One thing's certain: Your mother hasn't paid this lot!"

  "But who are they, and why are they cheering me?"

  "They are your audience, of course, and they are applauding your brilliant decision to marry a Highland Scot."

  It was long after dark when the coach pulled into Inveraray Castle's courtyard. Emma was weary from travel, and Jamie was sound asleep on the seat. Elizabeth, however, was breathless with nervous anticipation as the carriage pulled to a stop. She opened the door hesitantly and tentatively set her foot down on the iron step.

  Suddenly, powerful arms enfolded her and lifted her high. John had been waiting for hours and had given up hope. "Sweetheart, I swear I'll never take you for granted again!"

  "Oh, John, hold me close."

  He set her feet to the ground and held her captive against his heart. He bent his head and brushed his lips against her hair. "Beth, thank God you came ... I couldn't live without you."

  She heard the steady thud of his heart beneath her ear and knew she had at last come home, where she had always belonged.

  Emma closed her eyes, happy, relieved, but too tired to move.

  Elizabeth lifted her head from his chest. "Help me with Jamie."

  John moved into the carriage and, wrapping the Campbell plaid closely about his son, picked up the child with tender, loving hands, revealing how much he cherished the bairn. "Would you like me to come back and carry you, Emma?" he murmured.

  "I can manage, my lord. Though I wouldn't say no to Mr. Burke!"

  With Elizabeth at his side, John carried Jamie into his own turret where the child had slept before. He watched Beth undress their son and tuck him into bed, bemused that he never even opened his eyes. He turned the lamp low and held out his hand.

  Elizabeth placed her hand in his, and they ascended the stairs to John's chambers. He led her to the leather couch before the fire and removed her cloak. Then he knelt down to take off her boots.

  "I
took Jamie, knowing you would follow. I never meant to keep him ... that doesn't make it right, though. I thought I was showing you my strength, but instead I was revealing my weakness."

  "I want us always to be your weakness," Elizabeth said honestly.

  "While I'm down here I'm going to ask you again to marry me, but I want you to know what you're getting yourself into. Tomorrow, on the afternoon tide I have to set sail for Kintyre to recruit sailors, after that I sail to Mull, Morven, and Tyrie. I'll be gone a month, and I'm asking you to come with me. The fishing villages are barren, windswept places even in summer. Now that it's late in the season the weather may get fierce and bitter. The villagers' homes are humble, their lives often bleak. I want you to come with me, Beth, because you know what it's like to go hungry. You know what it's like to have only a smock to wear. They will feel your empathy and know you are not looking down your nose at them."

  "Of course I will come with you."

  He held up a warning hand to show he wasn't finished. "As well as being a professional soldier, I am also heir to Argyll. As sure as night follows day, you will become a double duchess, and there will be many times when you will have to attend Court in silks and jewels. You will have to divide your time between London and Scotland. There are times when we will have to entertain lavishly, but there also will be precious, private times we can share to laugh and love and make more babies. Will you marry me? Tonight?"

  "Yes. Yes, I will!"

  He kissed her fingers. "Come, I'd like to inform my parents."

  Elizabeth gasped. "Oh, must I? Can't you do it alone?"

  His voice softened. "You sound afraid."

  "I am," she whispered.

  He pulled her to her feet and slipped a possessive arm about her. "I love to watch you display your courage."

  She took a deep breath and accompanied him to the master turret. It felt like the longest walk she'd ever taken.