“Aye, it is,” Aleck agreed, looking down at her. Already foreseeing her course of action, he decided to play along with her. “’Tis even more bonny outside these walls.” A heart stopping smile spread over his lips. “But never as lovely as you,” he finished as his finger traced the line of her cheek.
His sky blue eyes mesmerized her, and for a moment, Chandra felt lost. The sound of hooves snapped her from her trance. Her gaze tore itself from his, and she saw the boy returning from the stables. Reins gripped tightly in his hand, the lad led Aleck’s stallion toward them. Passing the leads over to his master, the boy scurried off toward what Chandra assumed was the door to the kitchen area. A frown crept across her forehead as she turned back to Aleck. He was already in the saddle.
“Am I expected to walk?” she asked.
“Not at all, milady.” He extended his hand, palm upward, to her. “You shall be riding with me.”
Surely he was jesting. But his hand remained fixed. Chandra studied his face. “And if I refuse?”
“Then we will simply have to postpone our outing.” His hand motioned for her own. “What say you, little one? Do we stay? Or do we go?”
One horse, she thought. Slim as it might be, there was still a chance she could escape. Knowing she had no other choice, she slipped her fingers over his slightly callused palm. His warm hand closed over hers, and he urged her closer to the stallion’s side, then leaned down, his arm surrounding her waist. With little effort, he lifted her from the ground to settle her in front of him on the saddle.
Dear God, grant me the occasion to flee him. The entreaty tumbled through her mind as her guardian, his arm firmly around her waist, spurred the large beast toward the gate. Out onto open land, the stallion was given full rein. It galloped across the lush green terrain, then up the hillside into the trees. At its master’s command, it slowed to a walk. All the while, Chandra remained very still, and Aleck wondered if she’d given up hope of escaping him. Soon they stopped beside the large stone building that was under construction.
“Down with you,” Aleck said, starting to swing Chandra from the saddle. Her hands grabbed his forearm, shoving it from her waist; her head whirled around, and she stared at him. Aleck chuckled. “I am not fool enough to allow you to stay astride while I dismount. Not this time, milady. One such error was enough.”
Before she could protest, Chandra landed on her feet. Silently she cursed her luck, then she cursed him. Afterward she cursed herself. She knew she should never have counted on his making the same mistake twice. She’d have to find another way to gain her freedom. As he slid from the saddle, Chandra noticed that the underside of his jaw retained a slight discoloration. She hoped the bruise pained him still. Glancing around, she saw no workers about. “Where is everyone?” she inquired.
“In the village, I imagine, with family and friends.” She seemed surprised. “Today is Sunday. I don’t ask anyone to work on this particular day.”
Somehow she’d lost track of the days. “Oh, I didn’t realize it was the Lord’s day.” She looked up at the building in front of her, then glimpsed the sky. There was yet hope. With no one to stop her but him, she might have a better chance to escape. “Shall we go inside?”
“In a bit.” He led the stallion toward the trees and tethered it to a low-lying branch, giving it enough lead to graze, then returned to Chandra’s side. “Now, we shall enter.”
Gaining what Chandra thought would eventually be the front doors, she was swept through the wide opening, under some archways, and on into the center of Montbourne Hall. Through another set of arches she spied a staircase of dark, rich wood, banded by a pierced-panel balustrade. It angled up an outer wall, leading to the floors above. Ornately sculpted plaster decorated the tall ceiling while the walls were crowned with carved moldings. The embellished pattern of plaster and molding, she soon discovered, continued throughout the huge house. Light flowed through the bank of windows that graced each outside room. His hand holding hers, Aleck pulled her through the entire downstairs, explaining the use of each area and what it would hold in the way of furnishings. Bright and airy, the place was none other than magnificent. By the time they’d come full circle, Chandra was breathless from their trip.
“Let’s see the upper level, shall we?”
Aleck drew her up the stairs. From room to room he took her, his long strides measuring one to her two. Many times he cautioned her about the obstacles that stood along the way, for he was concerned that she might injure herself. Exiting yet another room, Chandra finally pulled free of him.
“Stop!” she cried. “You’re making me dizzy.”
A playful grin crossed his face. “Sorry, but in my enthusiasm, I sometimes forget myself. Come, there’s one more place I want you to see, then we’ll leave.”
He motioned her ahead and Chandra drew a steadying breath, then preceded him along the corridor. She couldn’t help but smile to herself, for he seemed very much like a small boy on his first adventure. In fact, she hadn’t thought it possible, but she was actually enjoying herself. That was, until she stepped into the next room along their circuit.
Through the large windows, she spied the castle across the way. At first glance, it reminded her of home. For a short time, her sorrows had vanished, only to return. And she could not help wondering how she had so easily forgotten. He was responsible for the pain she felt, for the anguish in her heart. How could she possibly feel the smallest amount of pleasure with him? After all, she despised him, didn’t she?
“This will be my room,” Aleck said, his shoulder meeting the doorframe. Crossing his arms over his chest, he watched as his ward looked around her.
“’Tis grand,” she said, heading slowly toward the window. Below her, she saw the horse. She had to get away. Strangely, she knew that if she didn’t, she’d soon be lost. She glimpsed another door, much like the one that led from her room to his at the castle. Slowly, she strolled toward it. “I suppose this is meant for your countess?” she inquired, viewing the room beyond. “’Tis grand also.”
“The room is meant for the woman I marry, but when I take my vows again, I will insist she sleeps with me.”
Chandra’s head swung in his direction. “You were married?”
“Aye, I was. But only briefly.”
She frowned. “W-what happened to your bride?” she asked, wanting for some unexplained reason to know.
“My wife died a few months after we were wedded.”
No emotion showed in his voice, and Chandra wondered why. “You sound as though you don’t miss her.”
“In truth, I don’t.” He noted her stunned look. “The marriage had been arranged. I neither knew nor loved the fair Elinor. Perhaps in time I could have learned to care for her, but it was not to be.”
“Had she been ill?”
“No.” He drew a long breath and expelled it. “She died of fright.”
Chandra blinked. “Fright?”
“Aye.” His ward appeared more than a little confused. Aleck couldn’t rightly blame her. “To put it bluntly, she was frigid. She feared having me in her bed—having to perform her wifely duties. Elinor came to me a virgin and left me a virgin—not that I didn’t try to woo her. Each time I entered her room, she became emotionally distraught. I can only assume her panic is what killed her.”
Chandra could not imagine any woman rejecting him. Not unless he had murdered his late wife’s cousin, just as he had hers. “I hope your next bride will be more understanding of your needs,” she said, peeking back into the other chamber. Her guardian was across the room from her, the farthest he’d been all day. If only … “But whether she stays in your room or the extra one you’ve prepared,” Chandra said, casually venturing through the door, “I’m certain she’ll be most appreciative of your efforts to make her comfortable. The view is grand from here,” she called, moving deeper into the room. “The grass and trees are so very green.”
Aleck heard her walking about the adjoining room. On her l
ast words, he smiled. “It’s what’s known as an English green. I believe you know the term already.” He started to straighten from the doorframe, intending to follow her, when from the corner of his eye he saw a flash of red streaking down the hallway toward the stairs. Cursing vividly, he whirled; then, swift of foot, he chased his fleeing ward. Having strolled easily through one door, she’d dashed out the other. The vixen, he thought, gritting his teeth. She’d tricked him again. “Damn it, woman. Stop!”
His quick strides were fast approaching her. Panicking, Chandra hiked her skirt and ran for her life, brushing past a beam that supported a scaffold of sorts. The thing teetered, and she scurried from beneath the swaying platform, with canvas-covered containers of paint and plaster sitting atop the wood, just as it began to collapse.
Not far behind her, Aleck cursed anew. There was no time to stop, so he vaulted over the tangled mess that had come crashing to the floor. His feet landed on the other side of it, one plunging into a spinning bucket full of paint. Cursing again, he hopped around on one foot until he finally kicked the thing free. Spying his ward at the top of the steps, he took off after her. Blue fire blazed in his eyes.
Chandra heard the loud crash, but she dared not look back. However, when she reached the stairs, she glimpsed her guardian, a bucket flying free of his foot, a trail of paint sailing after it. Like a raging bull, his nostrils flaring, he charged her way. Mother of God, she thought, he meant to kill her. On a shriek, she scurried down the stairs and out the wide opening, then on toward the trees.
As Aleck’s feet hit the first level of his new residence—the one his ward had obviously meant to ruin—he didn’t remember touching even one of the steps. In fact, he could almost swear he’d surpassed all sixty of them in one giant leap. Had he looked back, he’d have noted a bright white footprint on every sixth tread, but his eyes remained fixed on his ward. Out the door he sped; then, a dozen yards from her, he saw she’d finally gained the stallion’s back. “You’ll not escape,” he yelled as she urged the horse through the trees. “Give it up, Chandra.” He chased after her through the wood. “You can’t get away.” She refused to listen, and while she weaved through the growth, Aleck cut straight down the hill. She kept just ahead of him, and he knew he had to act now, before she broke from the trees, before she urged the stallion into a gallop. “Chandra, stop!”
She heard the warning in his voice, but chose to ignore it. Home, she thought, exiting the wood. She pointed the large steed north, excitement filling her breast. As her heels struck the beast’s flanks, attempting to spur it from a trot into a gallop, a shrill whistle filled the air. The stallion skidded to a halt; Chandra did not. Flying forward, she nearly somersaulted over the horse’s head. But for grabbing its neck, she would have. With a thud, she landed on her bottom. Tears stung her eyes, then clouded them completely. Through the haze, she saw her guardian loping toward her.
“I warned you,” Aleck said, slowing to a walk.
He’d won. She remained his prisoner. “No!” Chandra screamed. Anger and fear pushing her, she sprang to her feet. At a full run, she continued north. Her tears blinding her, she tripped, but caught herself. Ladybird, ladybird, flee… “No!” she cried again, somehow knowing he was after her. “You’ll not keep me here.” Footsteps thundered in her ears. Were they hers or his? “I want to go home. I have to—I must. Please, let me go home.”
Aleck trailed just behind her, ready to catch her should she fall, Chandra’s sobs tearing at his heart. His anger had fled. Through compassion-filled eyes, he watched her. She’d bounded to her feet, and he’d thought the chase was again on, but she’d only gone a few yards when she stumbled. Righting herself, she appeared dazed, wandering aimlessly. Confused by her actions, her words, he soon realized that her spirit was nearly broken. She could take no more, and Aleck cursed himself for having caused her so much misery.
“Please,” she implored again, then Chandra’s knees buckled.
Aleck caught her. “Hush, little one,” he crooned, turning her toward him. He held her fast in his arms. “Everything will be all right.”
Her face nestled against his chest, Chandra sobbed out her despair, her tears soaking through his shirt. A gentle hand stroked her hair as soothing words were whispered in her ear. She could not say what the tender utterances were, but nonetheless they eased her. She felt safe, cared for, and comforted in the arms surrounding her. For a moment, she truly believed she was home. Soon she quieted, and her strength slowly renewed itself. Her senses returned, and she realized who held her. Drawing a ragged breath, she pulled away from him. Embarrassment riffled through her, but somehow she managed to hold his gaze. “I cannot stay here,” she said, her misty eyes beseeching him to understand.
“I know,” Aleck responded, his voice deep and husky. “It won’t be long, little one, and you’ll be on your way back to the Highlands.”
“When?”
“Soon. I need to make arrangements for an escort. You’ll not leave until I am assured your journey will be safe and that you’ll be protected.”
“Tomorrow?” she asked, the glow of excitement rising on her cheeks.
Knowing that she wanted so desperately to leave him, Aleck felt strangely unsettled. Was he truly that much of a fiend? “Possibly, but I cannot promise,” he said in answer to her question. “It may be the day after, or even the one after that. Just bear with me, and by week’s end you’ll be on your way.”
Chandra felt like spinning around in circles, shouting her joy to the heavens. However, she managed to restrain herself. “Thank you,” she said simply.
His heart heavy, Aleck viewed her for a long moment. “Chandra, I know you fault me for causing Devin’s death,” he said, and noticed the light fade from her eyes. “In some ways I fault myself as well. I never meant for it to happen. It was not intentional. Were I able to change it, I would. Know I speak the truth.”
Did he? Chandra wondered, searching his face. His expression was open and unwavering. She had no chance to discern the truth, for a shout rose in the distance. Both she and Aleck turned to see Marlowe coming toward them. The old gelding that he rode lumbered up to them. “This just came, sir,” the steward said, handing Aleck a letter.
Turning it over in his hand, Aleck viewed the seal. A knot formed in his stomach as he ripped through it. Unfolding the missive, he read it twice; then, on a heavy sigh, he handed it to Chandra. “It seems our plans have changed,” he said, and watched as she read the letter herself.
Stunned by the words that met her eyes, Chandra frowned up at him. “This cannot be. I don’t understand.”
“It is simple. Our king has ordered us to London.”
Chapter
9
Dressed in their finest, the courtiers were gathered in the Presence Room at the royal residence for an evening banquet. Patiently the colorful array waited for their sovereign and his queen to make their entries. A celebration was at hand, but no one seemed to know why. Some said it stemmed from another of Anne’s whims; the woman always enjoyed a good round of pleasure—all at the treasury’s expense.
Feeling exceptionally nervous, Chandra turned her attention from the lingering crowd, who preened and strutted much like a covey of peafowl, and looked at the man beside her. Swathed in black, save for the gold, jewelled embroidery embellishing his clothing, her guardian was resplendent in a satin doublet, trunk hose, and leather shoes, a cape draping across his broad shoulders. He was possibly the most handsome male there. A leopard, she decided, again perusing him from his ebony hair to the tips of his polished shoes, that was what he resembled.
Like the regal cat itself, he appeared composed, self-assured, and Chandra wondered how he could possibly remain so calm in the midst of all this pomp. Just the thought of meeting their king struck fear into her. Did Aleck not realize that their sovereign held supreme power? In his own eyes, James was second only to God. Recognizing such, Chandra had a strange feeling that judgment would soon be passed on them both; hen
ce her trepidation.
“Relax, little one,” Aleck said, offering her a reassuring smile. “Our sovereign is quite amicable.” Beautiful, he thought, thirstily drinking in the sight of her for at least the hundredth time. And for the hundredth time, he fought to keep his desire in check. “You have no reason to fear him. If anyone is subject to his wrath, ’twill be me.”
“’Tis easy for you to say,” she snapped, fiddling with the lace collar rising from her shoulders and spreading behind her head.
A collet monte was what Winnie—who, at Aleck’s request, had come with them to act as both chaperon and lady’s maid—had called the decoration while attaching it to the gown. Chandra called it a nuisance—constantly snagging her upswept hair, the shiny mass perfectly coiffed and adorned with a white feather—as she did the rest of the clothing she wore, especially the French farthingale hidden beneath her skirt.
The thing resembled a wheeled cage and was every bit as cumbersome. Once it had been draped with the colorfully embroidered white satin gown—which she suspected had belonged to the late Countess of Montbourne, but had been quickly altered brief hours ago to accommodate the Lady Lochlaigh’s measurements—Chandra had fallen into the giggles. She looked as though she’d plunged through the center of a round, cloth-covered table and, unable to free herself, now sported the thing as she traveled about the palace.
More embarrassingly, her neckline sank far too low, exposing the top halves of her youthful breasts, which were painfully compressed against her chest. She was tempted to pull her bodice higher, but wisely resisted the urge. Her stocking-clad feet ached unbearably from the stiff shoes she wore, and she thought several times to kick the torturous things free.
Fashion, the scourge of womanhood, she berated silently, sullenly, wishing she’d donned her own clothing instead. But, eyeing the other women in the room, all dressed as ridiculously as she, Chandra knew she’d have felt very much out of place. Besides, at the moment, she desperately wanted to blend with the rest, else her king would readily single her out. As would they all, she decided of those at court. In Highland dress she’d be the object of ridicule and laughter, the whole barely deigning to acknowledge that she also was a peer.
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