A Secret Scottish Christmas (Agents of the Crown Book 4)

by Regan Walker

  Hugh shook his head. “Parliament doesn’t see the need for reform.”

  Nash agreed, doubting reform would come anytime soon. The Six Acts, robbing men of freedoms they had long held, discouraged him beyond hope.

  Angus finished his haddies, wiping his mouth with his napkin. “A nod’s as guid as a wink tae a blind horse.”

  Eyebrows rose around the table, including Nash’s, but it was Muriel who spoke. “Whatever does that mean?”

  “It means,” said Ailie, entering the dining room, “if a horse is blind, it matters little if you nod your head or wink your eye, he still cannot see, just as the government is blind to what is happening in Scotland.”

  “Oh,” said Muriel. “Yes, I quite understand.”

  Ailie turned to the sideboard, adding small bits of food to her plate. Nash remembered she had not eaten much at dinner, so perhaps she was hungry. Since they’d been at odds, neither of them had much of an appetite.

  She took a seat across from Nash. Her expression disclosed nothing until she glance up at Robbie and a look of surprise crossed her face. “You wear spectacles?”

  Robbie peered over his spectacles to look at her. “I do. Nash and I are the only ones in our family unlucky enough to require them to read.”

  Why did she ask? Then he remembered the day he had gone to town and Robbie took his place in the library. Had Robbie been wearing spectacles when she found him? He wondered again what kind of a kiss his twin had given her.

  “Do you read horticulture books like Nash?” she asked.

  Robbie paused, flicking a glance at Nash before returning to Ailie. Nash was certain each read the other’s thoughts. Finally, Robbie said, “Rarely.”

  Ailie looked up from her plate and shook her head. “Robbie Powell, you are a rogue. Worse than I’d imagined.”

  “Likely so,” Robbie admitted.

  Nash believed the only one at the table who understood something had been left unsaid was Muriel, whose eyes bore into him and then moved to stare at Robbie.

  “As soon as you’ve finished your breakfast,” announced William, “we’ll be off to the castle. We’ve two large sledges to accommodate us. That’s a sleigh to you, Tara.”

  “I can hardly wait!” said Nick’s wife.

  A half-hour later, Nash had donned his hat, gloves and greatcoat and assisted Ailie into the sledge carrying Emily, Muriel and Angus. William took the seat next to the driver as he did the day they had gone in search of the Yule log.

  With a nod to Nash, Robbie climbed into the second sledge with their two older brothers, their wives, and the Ormonds.

  It was much like their earlier trip into the woods near Arbroath, the runners on the large vehicles easily traversing the road leading south to Dunnottar.

  The brisk air chilled their faces even though the sun was shining. Only a few white clouds drifted in the blue sky. The inn had supplied them with lap blankets and beneath the one Nash shared with Ailie, he took her hand. Their gloves did not allow him the warm touch of her skin, but he was encouraged she did not resist the gesture.

  In no time at all, they arrived at the approach to the castle and the sledges came to an abrupt halt, the horses snorting after their run. At this point, they were level with the top of the rocky snow-covered precipice on which the castle ruins stood, defying time. Behind the immense rock, the vast expanse of the blue sea stretched to the horizon.

  Nash tried to envision Dunnottar as the castle it might have been, its battlements bright with colorful banners, the walls bristling with cannon and weapons, its practice yard crowded with men-at-arms, not the unroofed and untenanted sepulcher it had become. “It must have been magnificent.”

  “Aye,” said Angus on a sigh. “She were a braw stronghold once.” Nash wondered if the old Scot longed for the former times when the castles of Scotland were the bastions of powerful lairds.

  “What happened to the roofs?” Nash asked.

  “When the castle was forfeited after the rising in 1715,” said Ailie, “the roofs were removed and sold. A travesty, as some might have survived to this day.”

  William shouted, “Hold on, everyone!”

  At the driver’s command, the horses plunged down the snow-covered slope. Nash gripped Ailie’s hand and braced himself against the side of the sledge as the horses, seemingly unafraid, lunged forward and then veered to the left bringing them to the bottom of a valley in front of the castle’s rocky foundation.

  Ailie laughed. “A much wilder ride than in the summer when we walk.”

  “Indeed,” said Muriel, hand over her heart. “But I quite enjoyed it.”

  Angus gave her a huge grin. “Ye’re a grand lady, Countess.”

  “Nonsense.”

  William turned to Emily. “Are you all right, Leannan?”

  “I am fine,” she said. “It’s the ghosts that have me worried.”

  Nash tilted his head back to look up at the formidable mound of rock looming hundreds of feet in the air. He could no longer see the ruins atop the massive rock. Looking behind him, he glimpsed the second sledge, smiles on everyone’s faces.

  “Your brother has a sense of the dramatic,” he said to Ailie.

  “He does. I suspect he wanted you to be surprised.”

  “When do we get to set our feet on the ground?” asked Muriel turning in her seat to look up at William who sat above her with the driver. “I’m anxious to see the castle.”

  “You can alight here,” he replied. “The path leading up to the castle’s entrance is too narrow to take the sledges farther. They will remain here until we are ready to return. If some of you want to go back early, just let the drivers know. They will take you to the inn and return for the rest of us.”

  They climbed down and trudged up the long steep path. At the top, stood a tall opening, carved into the rock, as if beckoning them to enter.

  Beside him, Ailie stared at the entrance.

  “You don’t fear the ghosts, do you?”

  She shook her head. “No, it’s just that I’ve not seen Dunnottar in winter. ’Tis different with all the snow, colder and more forbidding than in summer.”

  They entered an arched stone passage, musty with age. Nash had the sense the tunnel slanting upward was taking them to another time. At the end of the passage, they encountered another gate that opened to the castle area where a dozen stone buildings, or parts of them, still remained.

  At that point, the group broke apart, heading in different directions.

  Nash paused to take in the breathtaking sight. At his side, Ailie said, “’Tis as if we have been lifted into the air, suspended high above the sea.”

  He took her hand. “Come, let’s find a building to explore.” He had in mind more than exploration of an ancient ruin but, for his purposes, they needed to be alone and more protected from the wind.

  “The tower house?” she suggested, pointing to a multi-storied building, or at least the skeleton of one.

  “Fine, let’s go there.” As they set out toward the looming keep, above them storm petrels took to flight, the small birds’ shrill cry echoing off the stone walls.

  “Just think,” she said, as he tugged her along, “Mary Queen of Scots walked this same ground.”

  He gave her a lopsided grin. “Considering what happened to her and many of the castle’s ‘guests’, I am none too eager to follow in their steps.”

  They stepped inside the ancient tower house. Roofless, it provided no warmth, but its thick stone walls sheltered them from the wind. For the moment, they were alone and Nash planned to take full advantage. “Ailie, we must talk.” He’d rather kiss her but talking had to come first.

  “Aye.” She dropped the hood of her cloak to fall to her shoulders, giving Nash a splendid view of her glorious copper hair. Then, as if to delay what she knew was coming, she said, “Some of Dunnottar’s buildings are not yet two hundred years old while others, like this one built by the Keiths are from many centuries ago.”

  Nash dre
w her to the window, an open portal to the castle’s grounds. He could see no reason to delay. “Are you going to forgive me or not?”

  She bit her full lower lip. “Would you ever do it again?”

  “Do what?”

  Her sherry eyes flashed. “Spy… lie. All of it!”

  He stepped closer, placed his hands on her waist inside her cloak and gazed deeply into her eyes, wanting her to see the sincerity of his words. “My days of acting the spy are over, Ailie. As for lying, I did not lie to you. Well, not exactly. I just didn’t—couldn’t—tell you all I was about. The nature of the work required our silence and, at times, the assumption of a disguise.”

  A frown creased her forehead.

  He glanced out the window, seeing only the ruins, the snow-covered ground and the sea beyond. “Once I learned how unjust it would be to return Kinloch for trial, I thought to let him escape. And when you spoke of him as wanting only good for Scotland, I knew you would feel betrayed if I did not let him go.”

  “Robbie was against it?”

  Nash turned to face her. “He was, but I do not fault him. We had agreed to do the job for Sidmouth. I thought to persuade Robbie to let Kinloch escape, but I was not successful. In the end, Robbie paid a terrible price for being more constant than I.” He touched his forehead to hers. “I’ve been miserable thinking you have rejected me, but last night you gave me hope. Forgive me, Ailie.”

  She brought her hands up and draped them around his neck.

  “I suppose I shall have to forgive you since I love you.”

  Their eyes met. “You do?” He felt a silly grin spreading on his face.

  She nodded. “Aye, for quite some time.”

  “Just as well,” he said, more casually that he felt, “because it so happens I love you, too. Might have done since the first time I saw you waiting to meet us on the dock. Or perhaps it was that first morning you taught me about haddies. Or when I followed you into the woods to gather greenery and kissed you. You have a mind of your own, Ailie Stephen, and are not afraid to stand up for what you believe. How could I not love you?”

  Nash bent his head to kiss her. “I love your freckles, Aileen Stephen, every one.” He kissed the sprinkling of freckles on the top of her cheeks and then he took her mouth in a kiss he had waited too long to bestow. At first, their lips were cool from the chilled air around them but, soon, the kiss became one of passion and the blood running through his veins heated as his body melted into hers.

  She welcomed his kiss and, when he slipped his tongue inside the sweet recesses of her mouth, she pulled him closer. He reached inside her cloak to fill his hand with a warm breast, drawing a moan from her throat.

  The sound of a man clearing his throat caused Nash to lift his head. Turning, he saw the Ormonds standing just inside the entrance, smiling.

  Peeling his body from Ailie’s, Nash said, “Time we saw another part of the castle.”

  She nodded and he took her hand and led her toward the door.

  “May I recommend the chapel?” offered Hugh. “I believe it’s one of the oldest buildings and, I daresay, has been host to many a wedding.”

  Ailie felt her face flush with heat despite the cold as Nash took her hand and led her across the castle grounds to the quadrangle where the palace and chapel were located. Even though the buildings themselves were free of snow, a thin carpet of white still covered the ground.

  Nash gave her a wide grin. “The chapel is the perfect place for what I have in mind.” Now that all had been forgiven and they had confessed their love, the whole world had come right for Ailie. “Wherever you like.”

  The chapel, at one end of the quadrangle, was not hard to spot with its arched doorway and window. Unlike the tower house, most of one side of the chapel was missing. She stepped into the ancient church and followed Nash to the far wall, away from the windows and doorway. Sweeping his greatcoat behind him, he took her hands and dropped to one knee. Her heart rose in her throat and tears welled in her eyes as she anticipated his words.

  “Aileen Stephen, I will never be the man I could be without you. You complete me. My heart is yours; I willingly lay it at your feet. Make me the happiest man in all of Britain and marry me.”

  She gave him an impudent smile. “Will you let me design ships?”

  He nodded. “Even better, we will design them together.”

  Her spirits soared yet one question remained. “Must we always live in London?” She had to know if she would be asked to leave her beloved Scotland forever. She loved him enough to do it but perhaps he wouldn’t mind a bit of negotiation.

  Nash grinned up at her. “I can see this is to be the first of many compromises, but hopefully not all will be made with me on bent knee in cold rocky soil. To answer your question, I expect we will live in London for part of the year, but not all. The Ossian will be built in Arbroath, yes? So, we’ll be there, too.”

  “Oh, Nash.” Tears spilled down her cheeks. He could not have pleased her more. “You have made me very happy. You’re the only man I ever desired for my husband. The only man I will ever love. Aye, I will marry you and gladly.”

  He got to his feet, dusted off his knees and took her into his arms. His kiss left her heart racing.

  “Now, my love, all we need is a minister.”

  He led her from the church into the cold wind blowing across the quadrangle’s inner yard, toward the well that was twenty feet across.

  “Nash, I am old enough to marry without my parents’ consent, but I would have Will approve of our marriage.”

  “William is not ignorant of my intentions toward you, Ailie. The night of the avalanche, I requested his permission to court you.”

  “You wanted me for your wife even then?”

  “I did, but I wanted to be sure my suit would be welcomed before I confessed my conversation with your brother. He gave his approval once I convinced him I would always protect and love you, yet never seek to change the woman you are.”

  “Another secret, I see. But I heartily forgive you this one. Did Will question you most thoroughly?”

  “Oh yes, and quite directly. Your brother loves you very much, Ailie. He would never approve of a man who did not desire your happiness above all.”

  “Are there any more secrets that I should know about?”

  He gave her a puzzling look. “None that I can think of.”

  “Will you say nothing of that day in the library when I mistook Robbie for you? I almost died of embarrassment when I realized ’twas not you I had kissed but your brother!”

  Nash had a sinking feeling Robbie had not disclosed all. “Robbie told me there was nothing to be concerned about. I assumed the kiss a mere peck on the cheek.”

  Her sherry-colored eyes shot daggers. “It was not a peck on the cheek, I assure you.”

  “He lied! If he wasn’t already wounded, I would beat him about the head.” Nash thought of how Robbie had behaved when he’d learned of Nash’s feelings for Ailie. He had changed. “I am sorry, Ailie. You see, at the beginning, Robbie thought to win you. Not until he witnessed my anger that day for what I believed was a simple stolen kiss did he realize how much I cared for you. He promised to act circumspectly thereafter.”

  “Really, the two of you make a fine pair when you set out to deceive someone. I just wish it hadn’t been me. At least now I can tell you apart. And, while we are at it, I have another question. What caused that scar beneath your hair? I felt the ridge when my fingers were in your thick curls that night when you kissed me under the stars.”

  “A souvenir from the yeomanry in Manchester. If Robbie had not come to my rescue, I would have been killed that day on St Peter’s Field.”

  She reached her gloved hand to his cheek. “Then I owe him much.” Had they not been in the courtyard where others might see them, she would have kissed him. “That day in Arbroath when it was Robbie whose head dripped blood, I felt guilty for my joy at discovering the man who lay wounded was not you.”

 
“’Tis the first time I’ve rescued Robbie. With your help, of course.”

  “Come,” she urged, “let us get out of the wind and see the palace.” As they crossed the quadrangle, she wondered if she were bold enough to act upon her thoughts concerning their marriage. “You know,” she began, “in Scotland, there is more than one way to wed.”

  “You mean we have a choice between an Anglican church and a Presbyterian kirk? It matters not to me where we are wed as long as our marriage is blessed by God.”

  “Actually, I was thinking of something else. In Scotland, we need not post banns or even summon a minister. We can marry by exchanging vows before witnesses as long as we live thereafter as man and wife.”

  He stopped and turned to face her. “As I am eager to begin living as man and wife, the idea appeals.” The seductive gleam in his eyes brought heat to her cheeks. “But what of your family and mine?”

  She looked down at the snow beneath her feet. “We could always be wed again in London.”

  Just then, Muriel and Angus emerged from one of the buildings on the right side of the quadrangle and hurried toward Ailie and Nash. “A ghost! We have seen a ghost!” shouted Muriel.

  “Which one? Ailie asked.

  “We was in the vault ’neath that one,” said her grandfather, gesturing. “Where the puir Covenanters were left tae die. It were a woman I ne’er heard tell about afore.”

  “She wailed most pitifully,” added Muriel, hand over her chest.

  “Are you all right?” Nash asked the countess, who looked terribly pale.

  “Oh yes. Just winded. I never thought to encounter one, you see. It was as if I had stepped into the past. How horrible it must have been for them, trapped beneath the stones and left to die.”

  “’Twas in winter tae,” said Ailie’s grandfather, “more ’an a hundred years ago.”

  “She disappeared before my very eyes,” said Muriel, “her white Covenanters’ cap and dark cloak suddenly vanishing. It quite took my breath away. The shock was almost as frightening as when she appeared.”

  Ailie shivered, both from the cold and from Muriel’s tale.