Rumors Among the Heather

by Amanda Balfour

  Julie felt the strain of anticipation. The hours dragged by until Ian finished his lessons early. After he left to go riding, she took out her mother’s wedding dress. She’d taken everything she owned when she left Wintersea, but never dreamed she would be standing here and pressing the gown for her own wedding.

  She permitted herself the luxury of a long, hot bath amid jasmine-scented bubbles. Julie even rinsed her hair in the scented water. Once finished, she wrapped herself in her robe and sat by the fire brushing her hair. Waiting for nightfall and for Matthew. The clock struck ten and with it came the knock on the secret entrance to her room.

  Julie went over to the panel. “I’m here. Is it time?”

  The panel moved, and Matthew stood just inside the opening. “We’ll leave after the staff is asleep. That should be shortly after midnight. Come down the secret passage to my room when you’re ready. We’ll leave by the back stairs, and Ribble will go with us to the mainland. One kiss, my love, and I must leave. If I held you in my arms, I would not be able to let go. I have much to do this night, and everything must be done quickly and discreetly.” With one last look, Matthew disappeared behind the panel.

  Julie quickly dressed in her mother’s wedding gown of hand-fingered ivory lace over satin with a slight train at the back. It was cut low in the front with the bodice decorated in seed pearls. She placed her mother’s pearls around her neck, piled her hair high on her head, and wove it into braids in the French fashion. Her mother’s pearl hairpins anchored it in place.

  She looked at herself in the mirror and felt satisfied with her hasty toilette. After donning a long cloak that completely covered her dress, she put her satin slippers in the bandbox. Her hand trembled as she fingered the catch to the panel. She took a deep breath, lit a candle, and started down the stairs. When she reached Matthew’s room, she listened to make sure he was alone, and then knocked on the panel. The door was immediately thrown open.

  Matthew helped Julie inside the room and marveled at her quiet calm. He had been nervous as a cat all day. She stopped by the lamp on his desk, and his breath caught at the beauty before him. The flush of excitement on her cheeks highlighted the brilliance of her emerald-green eyes. For a moment, he found himself lost in their depths. Still holding her hand, he heard the synchronized beating of two hearts.

  They came down to earth when Ribble entered the room. Matthew kept her hand enclosed in his and quickly drew her with him down the back stairs and the path to the cove where Ribble had readied a skiff to take them to the mainland.

  Their trip over was smooth with Ribble at the helm, and they landed on a deserted stretch of beach. Matthew whisked Julie from the boat and into a waiting carriage.

  Suddenly, Julie gasped, “I don’t have any flowers! I forgot. I picked a bouquet this morning, and I left them in my room.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I think they’ll still let us get married without them,” he teased.

  Julie looked so serious Matthew told Ribble to stop at the next vacant lot. He stepped out and returned a few minutes later with a handful of white heather dripping with dew.

  “Rumor has it a true lady of Scotland’s marriage would nae be legal without a sprig of white heather to bring her luck,” he said, bowing over her hand.

  They continued on through the dimly lit streets of Gairloch, until the carriage stopped in the shadows across from the pitch-black church. Its steeple, silhouetted against a stormy sky, took on an eerie aura. Matthew helped Julie from the carriage, and together they hurried across to the steps of the church.

  Suddenly, from out of the bushes stepped a specter clothed entirely in black. Julie gasped, and Matthew said reassuringly, “Don’t worry, it’s only the minister.”

  Matthew and Reverend Frederick Mackenzie shook hands. The minister was a tall, thin man of indeterminate age. He had the kind of face that would look the same from his early teens to old age. The man sported a waxed handlebar mustache he kept fingering nervously. His eyes darted from bush, to tree, to rock until they came back to settle on Julie and Matthew.

  “Quickly, let’s go inside. The night has eyes and ears sometimes. I have a small candle to read by, and I suspect that’s all the light we dare use.” When the minister spoke, his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down like a buoy in a rough sea. Fascinated, Julie could not take her eyes off him.

  “Yes, I think you’re right. Let’s get this over with as quickly as possible,” Matthew said in a whisper.

  Julie looked on in a daze. The whole ceremony seemed surreal. She went through it without thinking. She guessed she must have answered the questions correctly, but she could not remember a thing after the minister started speaking.

  The next thing she knew, Matthew brushed a kiss across her lips as the words “I now pronounce you husband and wife” rang in her ears.

  The minister showed Ribble and the caretaker where to sign his book, and just as quickly as he’d appeared before them, he also disappeared, leaving them alone in the dark church.

  “I know this is not what you wanted, Julie, and I’m sorry, but this is the best I could arrange under the circumstances.”

  “Just tell me you love me and everything will be all right,” Julie said quietly.

  He took her in his arms and kissed away her fears or any other thoughts. The caretaker left as discreetly as the minister, and Ribble absented himself to check the area. He came back a few minutes later and motioned for them to follow. Quietly, they left the church, and their footsteps softly echoed off the silent walls as the door closed behind them. No one would ever know two lives were forged together in less than a quarter hour of time.

  The calm sea grew choppy on their homeward journey, and the wind threatened to overturn the small boat, but Ribble seemed to take it in stride. Rumor had it that his younger days were spent in the flourishing smuggling trade along the coast. He knew the waters between the mainland and the island as well as he knew his own name, and he knew the sea in all its different moods. The sun’s rays were peeping over the horizon when they finally arrived in the little sheltered cove. Matthew took Julie’s hand, and they hurried toward the castle. They must act quickly if they were to reenter without waking anyone.

  Matthew followed Julie up the secret passageway to her room. “It won’t always be like this. I promise. It would be impossible for me to stay with you. The servants will be up and about before long. We can’t have any rumors. We must be discreet. You do understand, don’t you?”

  “I do, but I don’t want you to leave. Please stay,” Julie pleaded hoarsely. Tears beckoned as she realized how their marriage would impact her life, and it frightened her.

  “Julie, my love, you know I can’t stay. We have to keep up appearances. You know why I can’t stay, and why we can’t tell anyone we’re married. I’ll come to you tonight. I promise.”

  He kissed her briefly and turned to go. Before he could go through the passage, Julie ran to him and claimed his lips again. She felt his touch, and his love, as his arms crushed her to him in one last embrace.

  Sleep evaded Julie after Matthew left her, so her day began early. Once Ian finished his lessons and went riding, she paced around the room. Too nervous to sit still, she could not eat her supper when it arrived hours later.

  Now, she stood by her window and watched the tide come in and leave. It seemed to her the earth stopped spinning and time stood still before the sun finally set, and night closed in around the castle. After attending to the fire she sat down in her rocker to wait. Waiting for the men in her life seemed to have become commonplace.

  Soon the castle settled into a quiet cocoon, until the clock in the schoolroom struck midnight. The tolling of the hour also brought a tapping at the secret panel in her room. The tension left her body.

  The panel moved, and Matthew stepped inside. She remembered the first time she’d seen him. His handsome face wore a mask of boredom giving him an aloof, untouchable presence. But this evening she could see a change in him. He loo
ked younger, and his eyes glowed. Those eyes so cold, so dangerous when she did not know the true Matthew were now soft and warm. She marveled at how much she loved him. Although eager to sample the bliss of being his wife, Julie stepped back. She wanted to feast on the man who would soon be her husband in all ways.

  Matthew did not see his new bride when he entered the room. His gaze scanned the fire-lit chamber and came to rest on Julie standing in the shadows. He crossed to her side, and took her in his arms. He held her there, marveling at how the firelight flickered across her face, bringing to bear the fragile beauty who now belonged to him. He never tired of looking into her eyes or memorizing every inch of her stunning countenance. No other’s charms had caused him to lose a minute’s sleep. He could not believe he had fallen in love for the first time in his life, and he felt for the first time this was enough to sustain him through anything.

  “Julie, last night went so quickly, I had no time to tell you how much I love you or to show you what’s in my heart. You looked so beautiful I felt bewitched. You’re what I’ve been searching for all my life. I don’t know how you found your way so far north, but I’m glad you did. I know if I had missed you, I would have missed the best part of my life.”

  “I don’t know what fates threw us together either. I was alone in the world and lonesome, and then I found you. Oh, Matthew, I couldn’t love you any more if my life depended on it. Nothing could make me change how I feel.”

  The need for control had passed. His restraint crumbled, and passion overwhelmed him when Julie took his hand and led him to the bed. Her wrapper slid off her shoulders, and her gown puddled onto the floor at her feet—revealing a body made for love. Almost in a daze, his gaze roamed over her.

  She’d never looked more enchanting or more vulnerable. Matthew shrugged out of his coat with Julie’s help. Her hands were inexperienced, but this did not seem to matter; if anything, it aroused him more. At last he was free of his clothes. Her gaze skimmed his body, and he exulted in the slow exquisite torture as her fingers reached out to touch his skin.

  He trapped her hands and kissed her fingertips, sucking gently on each. Her hands stroked his back and his passion for her escalated.

  Matthew peppered gentle kisses against her eyelids, her brow, and the lobes of her ears, before trailing his lips down her neck. His hands cupped her breasts, and her body shivered where his hands touched. She moaned, and her back arched toward him as his mouth teased her taut nipples. He moved between her thighs. Julie’s eyes were wide open, he hoped with pleasure. She strained against him, and Matthew felt the same desire driving him. His hands explored every curve, every hidden valley. Again, he felt her shiver with desire, and his need to take her grew. He wanted to go slowly because of her inexperience, but at this moment, he savored the slow, wonderful torture for his own pleasure. He did not want this to end. The pleasure increased to the point of intoxication.

  Julie cried out softly in pleasure, arching her body still further toward him. She whispered huskily, “Matthew…I want you…I love you…take me now!”

  Matthew’s muscles quivered from the strain as he braced himself over her. He’d dreamed of taking her and making her his own, but somehow the dream paled in comparison.

  “Matthew!”

  He quickly followed her into a passion-filled void. Afterwards they lay together, tangled in the blankets of her bed. The passion they’d shared faded into contentment. Their warm bodies were entwined, welded together by the heat of their passion. Matthew had never felt so at peace with himself and his world. Moonlight caressed his bride’s face, and he saw the silver streaks of her tears. “Are you happy, Julie?”

  “Yes, Matthew.”

  “Then why are you crying, my dearest love?”

  “They’re tears of happiness. I’ve never been happier.” Once again, they came together as husband and wife, but with the wild abandon of new love. Gently, Matthew entered Julie again, and together they spiraled into a world of sensations and fathomless depths of pleasure. With their desires sated, they lay entangled, stunned by passion, and weak from love. Together they watched the dark night turn gray.

  Reluctantly, Matthew sat on the side of the bed. He began to put his clothing back on. With an effort of will, he looked at Julie. He groaned, passion stirring within his loins again. He could not get enough of her. His appetite was insatiable.

  Julie put on her wrapper and came with him to the secret panel. “Matthew, why did your grandfather have a secret passage to the governess’s room? Was this always her room?”

  “It seems he had a weakness for governesses. It must run in the family,” he said with a wink. One last look and he hurried away.

  Julie watched him go. She felt the hot rush of tears stinging her eyes. Alone and cold, she moved closer to the dying embers of the fire.

  Each night they followed the same pattern, coming together with the same ardor and wild abandonment. They could not seem to get enough of each other. In a dangerous mixture of love, lust, and tenderness, they quenched each other’s fever. All the fears and uncertainties Julie felt while they were apart were washed away with the flood of their passion, only to return once dawn frightened the night from the horizon.

  One day, Julie and Ribble were summoned to Matthew’s study.

  “I have been summoned to Prince Charles’s side. I’m sorry, Julie. Our time has been too short.” He reached out to take her hand in his. He looked from Julie to Ribble and said, “Ribble, I can’t take you with me this time.”

  “My lord, I have always been there in every campaign. Have I not served you well?” Ribble asked. Disappointment was written across his face.

  “There is no one I trust more than you, my friend. This time, however, I need you here to look after my family. Nothing must happen to them. I trust you to do what is best for their safety.”

  Ribble nodded his head in understanding.

  “Matthew, how will I know if you are all right?” Julie asked.

  “Isaac Potter floats like a ghost between France and Scotland. I will send word through him. The rendezvous point will be at the abandoned Grant farm south of Gairloch. Ribble can check when he goes into the village. Potter will leave messages in a loose brick inside the old smokehouse chimney. Julie, please don’t look so worried. I leave tonight, but I’ll be back as soon as I can,” Matthew said as he pressed her hand to his lips.

  Too soon he was gone.

  * * *

  Julie went about tutoring Ian in a daze. She kept listening for news of the war. She watched for a sign from Ribble, but he only shook his head. Several days later, while Ian was having a riding lesson, she went for a walk along the beach and met Ribble there.

  “I was coming to see you.” He motioned for her to come down to where he repaired the sails for the small boats.

  “You have news?” Julie asked, wringing her hands.

  “Aye. The war goes well. King George sent Sir John Cope, hoping to rout Prince Charles. His lordship fought beside the prince at Edinburgh, and with this victory, they were ready to meet Sir John Cope at Prestonpans. It was in the gray of the early morning four days later that Lord George Murray attacked and surprised Sir John and his army. Within minutes they left the king’s army defeated and made a hasty retreat, along with their leaders. Prince Charles lost a few men, but the defeat cost the king’s army in pride and men.”

  “I heard when the battle was over, and the first drink of victory was on his breath, a chieftain said proudly, ‘My prince, your enemies have fled and their dead are at your feet.’ “Sadly, the prince said, ‘Alas, they are my father’s subjects and good Englishmen.’” Ribble recited the news from the message he found at Grant’s farm. “I think he will make a fine king.”

  “What of Lord Bonnleigh? Is he unharmed?” Julie watched Ribble’s face as he spoke to her.

  “Aye, he was in the first battle at Edinburgh. He came through unscathed. He’s a good one in a scrape. Ye have nae cause to worry.”

  �
�Where will they go now?”

  “Once the battle was over at Prestonpans, they returned to Holyrood. We’ve started out without much backing. France did not come through on their promise. With this victory under our belts, my guess would be that Prince Charles will spend a few days enlisting more men and gathering more money for the battles to come. The fund raising will grow easier with each triumph. With a decisive victory like this one and the king’s army on the run, his popularity couldn’t help but continue to grow.”

  “I’m so worried, Ribble.”

  “I know, Lady…er…Miss Hastings, but you must pray he’ll be returned safely. I mean no disrespect, but you do understand why I cannae use your title. We must be forever on our guard. Tell no one, trust no one.”

  “I understand the need for secrecy. Please don’t worry about niceties.”

  The next news they had was all good. The prince hosted grand balls and parties where he danced with many Highland ladies. He won their hearts and prayers. They sold their jewels for him, and every able-bodied man laid down his sword at the prince’s feet.

  Reflecting back on what had happened, Julie heard a tapping at her door. When she opened the door, she found Ribble standing there. Julie put a trembling hand to her mouth.

  “Nay, ’tis not bad.”

  Ribble’s words soothed the unrest in Julie’s heart.

  “The last I heard, Prince Charles decided to march into England. The chieftains are balking at leaving their homeland. They wanted to fight for Scotland and Scotland alone, but Prince Charles’s dream is to conquer England for his father. The chieftains finally gave way, and they marched into England with little resistance. However, the English Jacobites dinnae even come out to meet the prince. He has been forced by the chieftains to return to Scotland.

  “News from the front said they did not press their advantage, and they have returned to Glasgow. The prince felt let down. Who can blame him? His dream is all but dead now. I did hear they have taken Stirling Castle, and the war effort has been revived. Once again the men are rallying around him. That’s all I know for now.”