by Jarecki, Amy
Reid set aside the ax he’d been using to chop wood and shot a wary glance to the cottage, where Audrey was preparing their noon meal. “An army?” he asked. “What’s afoot?”
The marquis inclined his chin northward. “Redcoats are headed to Brahan Castle.”
“Ballocks. I kent I shouldn’t have stayed here for so long. I hate hiding like a coward.” Not that he’d tell Tullibardine how much he’d enjoyed the past fortnight of solace.
“Aye?” The marquis dismounted. “By your color and that heap of firewood, I’d say the respite has been what you needed to mend your angry arse.”
“My arse was about the only thing on my backside that wasn’t angry.”
Tullibardine laughed. “Are you good to ride?”
“Bloody oath I am.” His heart sank. He wanted to ride no more than he wanted to walk naked through an ice storm. But one’s duty had a way of catching up to a man. He had naught but to stand and face it.
“My spies report the dragoons are taking the drovers’ pass through the glens like they always do. The Sassenachs have no idea how to cross the Highlands.”
“’Tis a good thing. That route will take them days longer—cuts miles west.”
“It does. So if we leave now, we’ll arrive at Brahan Castle before those bastards by a good two days.”
“Give me a moment to gather my things.”
As he strode for the cottage, all the reasons Reid had been fighting for the cause came flooding back. His care of his clan and the Highland chiefs. What the hell had he been thinking, spending lazy nights in Audrey’s arms? He needed to avenge her father’s death. He needed to settle his affairs with the Earl of Cromartie. And moreover, he needed to gather the Highland chieftains, insist on solidarity, and decide their next steps.
He stopped midstride. “The crossing is too treacherous for Miss Kennet.”
Tullibardine nodded. “My man-at-arms will take her back to Blair. She’ll be safe with Lady Magdalen until this is over.”
“It may never be over.” Reid’s lips thinned as the lass stepped outside.
Her eyes filled with alarm as she looked to Reid. “What is it?”
“Government troops are marching on Brahan. I need you to go to Blair Castle and wait.”
“Wait? Shouldn’t I stay with you, my lord? I can be of assistance.”
“I cannot allow you to put yourself in harm’s way again.”
“But—”
“No!” he bellowed forcefully while the hurt in her eyes stabbed his heart like a saber. But Reid had been thinking of himself for too long now—had put off the inevitable. He knew more than anyone his life wasn’t his own, no matter how much he cared for the lass. The cause had always been far more important than any one man. “You’ll return to Blair with the guard. Now go inside and collect your things.”
The look on her face smote him like taking the saber and twisting it. But she lifted her chin and turned on her heel, making no scene, just like a proper well-bred English rose.
Reid felt like a heel. Everything about their affair had been wrong. He’d gone against his own vow to stay away from his ward. He’d allowed himself to enjoy the comfort of a woman’s arms while too many unsolved problems troubled Scotland. Too many people relied on him and his good favor with Queen Anne.
Worse, he had his duty to the MacKenzie clan. The damned alliance forged by his father still hung around his neck like an anvil. Until and if he reached a settlement with his uncle, Earl of Cromartie, he had no business wooing any woman. He had no business pursuing happiness and his own desires. His duty was to clear his name and see to it James Francis was named the next successor to the throne, lest Britain fall into the hands of a Hanover. In fact, Audrey needed to find a man who could spend his days showering her with affection, not a Highland earl who was forever fighting government tyranny—running from bloodthirsty dragoons. Her marriage had been his goal from the day they’d first met, and yet he’d lost his way.
Tullibardine gave him a quizzical look. “Do you need a moment with the lass?”
“I’ll fetch my musket and sword and we’ll be off.” Clenching his fists, he slipped inside to face Audrey.
She followed and stood with her back to the door. “I’m as skilled a rider as anyone.”
“You kent this day would come.”
“You think I’m weak because I’m a woman.”
“Your father entrusted me with your safety. You want to take to the Highlands, running from the likes of Wagner Tupps—or, worse, Captain Fry?” Reid snatched his sword from where he’d stowed it behind the door. “The Marquis of Tullibardine is right. You cannot go with us. Not this time. ’Tis too dangerous.”
“What if you’re killed? What then?”
No matter how much his heart told him to stay, told him to make promises he could never keep, he refused to obey. “I will not be killed.”
“Do you think you’re too tough to succumb to a musket ball?”
He grasped her shoulders firmly. “Audrey, you ken I am a man with a great many responsibilities. Clan and kin are relying on me. I’ll not die, and you will go to Blair Castle until I can make other arrangements for your care.”
“My care? And what, exactly, would that be?”
His lips thinned.
“What about us? W-what about all that we’ve shared?”
“I—” He reached around her and grabbed the latch. “There are things I must set to rights—things which have tied my hands from the outset.” He turned and regarded her over his shoulder. “You will always be in my heart, lass, but I have no choice but to go.”
His heart twisting into a knot, Reid pushed out the door. Dammit, he hated seeing her hurt, but the lass would be better off without him. Christ, he was the biggest arse in all of Britain. No, he couldn’t risk ever seeing her again, because if he did, he’d never be able to let her go. When this was over, he’d write to the queen and make a plea for Audrey to marry a courtier. A good man who wasn’t involved with wars and the cause, or a victim of an alliance forged by his father.
* * *
Through the entire journey down the mountains, Audrey didn’t say a word. She wanted to be sick. She wanted to rein her horse north and follow Reid and the Atholl army. It wasn’t that they were leaving her behind, but something written on Seaforth’s face told her he thought their affair was over. The marquis had ridden into the camp, and suddenly the fairy tale they’d been living in the Highlands had come to an end.
But nothing was over as far as Audrey was concerned. It had only just begun. Reid believed he was in too much trouble to think of marriage? Why could he not realize what an asset she could be to him and his cause? Did it matter so much that she was English? He trusted her father enough to sail to France with him on a dangerous mission, and yet he didn’t trust her.
So many times during their days at the cottage, she’d wanted to discuss their future, but she’d kept mum for fear of bursting their bubble of happiness. Instead of talking, she did everything in her power to show him that she would be the perfect wife for him. She’d kept the cottage clean, she’d cooked, she’d tended his wounds, which had been healing nicely. Worst of all, she’d lain with him. Not that their nights of passion weren’t fantastically enjoyable, but no one needed to tell her what happened when a maid gave a man her virtue.
She was ruined.
Now the only other man who might have her was Wagner Tupps, and if that ended up being the case, Audrey would rather sail a sinking ship to the Americas than submit to that blackguard. She shuddered. Where was Mr. Tupps now? Was he riding with the regiment led by the awful captain? And where were the multitude of Highlanders who’d sworn fealty to the Jacobite cause? Reid spoke as if he owed them his life. Why did they not reciprocate? He was their leader, was he not?
By the time Audrey reached Blair Castle, she was angry and hurt and completely ready to take matters into her own hands. She’d do whatever was needed, from sailing to London to plead with the qu
een, to closing down the mine and recruiting the laborers to join her army. She was a wealthy heiress. Perhaps it was time to spend a bit of her coin.
Lady Tullibardine met Audrey with outstretched hands and a warm smile. “How was your journey?”
“I must say it was frustrating to be traveling in the wrong direction.” She didn’t care if this woman was a marchioness, Audrey wasn’t about to sit idle and do nothing. She squared her shoulders, ready for rebuttal, but one didn’t come.
“I take it you wanted to continue on with the Lord of Seaforth?”
“Of course I did. But His Lordship thinks I’m incompetent and completely useless.”
The marchioness led her up the stairs. “I doubt that. Men can be blinded by their own importance, however.”
“I’ll say.”
“But do you not think Seaforth was acting in your best interests—trying to keep you from danger?”
As they exited on the second floor, Audrey groaned. “But I’ve proved myself useful over and over again.” She cringed. There had been the one instance when she’d been recognized by Mr. Tupps, in Durham—but experience was a great teacher, and that would never happen again.
“And you cannot bear to be separated from him for a minute.”
“Exactly.”
Her ladyship stopped with her hand grasping a doorknob. “That’s because you’re in love with him.”
“I—” Audrey froze with her mouth open, quite certain she was blushing right down to her toes.
“You may as well admit it, my dear. We all succumb to our hearts sooner or later.” Opening the door, Lady Magdalen gave her a knowing smile. “However, men oft and incorrectly think they’re the only ones who can take matters into their own hands.” She beckoned Audrey into the drawing room and gestured to a chair. “Now, as you most likely are aware, my husband supports the cause.”
“I gathered.”
“And my father is the Earl Marischal of Scotland.”
“Oh?” It was common knowledge that the Marischal had spent time in the Tower accused of treason, and was only released because he insisted the men he’d taken to Edinburgh to meet James, Queen Anne’s half brother, were a welcoming party and nothing more. Ultimately, the queen granted a pardon, most likely to avoid a civil war. Audrey still crossed her arms. “Then you know why the Earl of Seaforth was captured and beaten.”
“I do.”
“And you have something up your sleeve, my lady?”
“Please, call me Maddie. My closest friends do.”
“Very well. But my insides are bursting with anticipation.”
The marchioness let out a long sigh. “Truly, ’tis but an idea, though you should be aware that I spent a great deal of time in London when Reid MacKenzie was still a ward of Queen Anne.”
“That’s right, he was.”
“Aye, his mother died of childbed fever, and his father passed when he was still a lad. Queen Anne had him brought to court as a ward of the crown because she feared Seaforth had Jacobite leanings, and also believed she could sway him to her side.”
“But she didn’t.”
Maddie waggled her eyebrows. “Well, Reid led her to believe she had. If you haven’t noticed, the Earl of Seaforth can win hearts with a wee grin.”
Audrey nodded, wondering how many other women with whom he’d spent a fortnight in the midst of the wilderness.
“Of all the Scottish nobles, I’d say he’s Anne’s favorite. In her eyes, Seaforth can do no wrong.”
“So are you saying we should appeal directly to the queen?”
“I am.” Maddie held up a finger. “However, I mightn’t be the one to do so. Though I was eventually cleared of all suspicion, Her Highness threw me out of court after a chandelier fell on her meeting table.”
“You? Why did she believe you were responsible?”
“I was the queen’s harpist, and a very unpleasant countess blamed me for the accident in front of her ministers and her ladies. As a matter of fact, if it weren’t for the Earl of Seaforth, I could have very well been led to the gallows before my father had a chance to clear my name.”
A hundred thoughts whirled through Audrey’s mind. This woman was a fellow musician, and had experienced grave danger. They had far more in common that she’d ever imagined, but she couldn’t yammer on about any of that now. Not when Reid was headed north to face certain battle. Besides, who knew if the queen would forgive him for taking up arms against government troops?
Audrey shook her head. “Then we should make an immediate appeal to the queen?”
“I—”
“M’lady.” A valet stepped inside and bowed. “Pardon the intrusion, but a messenger has arrived. A royal messenger. Says he must speak to you immediately.”
Lady Magdalen waved her hand through the air. “Send him in.”
The valet looked to Audrey and twisted his mouth disapprovingly. “Now, m’lady?”
Snorting, Maddie’s expression grew emphatic. “Miss Kennet is my trusted guest. Now send him in.”
Audrey looked between servant and lady, all too aware that she was a foreigner in a land suspicious of English subjects.
“Unfortunately, Highlanders have always been wary of the English, and now even more so. Not to worry. Once they come to know you, they’ll learn to be more trusting.”
“My lady,” he said in a Londoner’s accent. “I have a missive from Her Majesty, Queen Anne, for the Earl of Seaforth.”
Maddie’s lips formed an O as if such news was a surprise. “Whyever would you bring it here?”
“The earl gave Her Highness an address in Coxhoe, but the butler advised the earl is unreachable and the letter should be left with the Marquis of Tullibardine.”
Audrey covered her mouth with her hand, forcing herself not to jump up and snatch the parchment from his fingertips. God bless Gerald.
“And you’re aware His Lordship is not here,” said Maddie.
“Indeed.” He took a step nearer. “Do you know where I can find him?”
“Not precisely. However, you can leave the letter with me. My army will take word to him.” She emphasized the word army.
The man shook his head. “But I must see this into the hands of the earl with haste. If the marquis were here, I could have entrusted the missive to him…”
Audrey scooted to the edge of her seat. “But—”
Lady Magdalen held up her palm, demanding silence. “You are an English messenger, are you not?” she asked with a very thick brogue.
“I am, my lady.”
“I can assure you there is no chance in all of Christendom that you will find the Earl of Seaforth or the Marquis of Tullibardine unless they want to be found. You could very well spend months and months scouring the Highlands to no avail. You have no option but to entrust the letter into my care. After all, I am a marchioness, and a vassal of the queen.”
Still on the edge of her seat, her hands tightly folded, her knuckles white, Audrey nodded in eager agreement.
The man chewed his bottom lip, as if considering. “Would you be willing to sign a writ stating that you take full responsibility for the delivery of such a document? ’Tis a royal missive, after all. Signed by the queen herself.”
“Indeed I will. And I give you my word that it will reach His Lordship with haste.”
Crossing her arms to allay the jittering of her insides, Audrey waited patiently while Maddie moved to the writing desk and took up parchment and quill. In minutes, the marchioness handed the messenger her pledge to deliver the letter to Reid, and the exchange was complete.
As soon as the man left the drawing room, Audrey hopped to her feet.
Maddie pulled a small knife from her sleeve. “Do you want to do the honors?”
Guilt coiled around her stomach and she swallowed against it. “’Tis from the queen?”
“You heard the messenger.” Her ladyship turned the missive over and pointed. “It bears a royal seal.”
Audrey took the letter
and the knife with trembling fingers. No matter how much her conscience berated her, she must know what the letter contained. It was a matter of life and death, and if she saw something untoward, Reid would simply have to forgive her. Taking a steadying breath, she set it on the table and carefully ran the blade under the wax so as not to fracture the glob—just in case they needed to reseal it.
She read aloud.
My Lord Seaforth,
It was with great joy that I received your letter, until I read its contents. I should summon you to London forthwith and demand an explanation as to why you visited my half brother in France without advising me first. After consideration, I do, however, believe your motives were carried out in good faith. As you are aware, the succession concerns me greatly. But hear me, Seaforth, I have made it my life’s mission to ensure there will never be another Catholic king on the throne of Britain. Popery has been extricated from the kingdom, and shall never return. It is with a sad and heavy heart that I learn Prince James obstinately refuses to convert to Protestantism as I am well aware the days of my reign are numbered.
I commend you in your efforts to plead with James to come to the true faith, but I also must caution you. The Occasional Conformity Act must pass. Parliament will not accept a monarch who only poses as a Protestant. The next ruler of Britain will accept our faith in mind, body, and soul and condemn popery with his every breath.
On the subject of your sea galley, the lord high admiral will conduct an investigation into your claim and issue appropriate discipline to the captain and officers of the Royal Buckingham should it be warranted.
Please carry this letter for presentation to any Government officers who may misunderstand the purpose of your peacekeeping visit to James, for you have my pardon and my blessing.
I require you to make supplication to me in person before undertaking any future visit to the prince.
Most sincerely and reverently,
Anne, by the Grace of God, Queen of Great Britain, France, and Ireland, Defender of the Faith
Maddie threw up her hands. “Good Lord, if only this had arrived before the dragoons befell Coxhoe House, all Seaforth’s misery would have been avoided.”
