“Ye recognized Scepter,” he said, pulling her back against his body.
His strength bolstered her trembling legs as she turned to face him. “Aye. And I remember ye, bonnie mon.”
He frowned. “I expect ye do. I’m the one who left ye to enter a house full of murderers alone.”
She rested her head on his chest and surrendered all her weight to his support. “I dinna blame ye. We thought Axton and Balford were in prison.”
He scooped her up into his arms. “I hope ye dinna mind the reek, but I’m taking ye inside.”
She clung to his neck. “I think the smell of horses jolted my memory.”
He chuckled. “So ye willna object to marrying a farmer?”
The lass who’d set out from Kilmer would have blushed coyly and babbled some inane quip in response. Now, Jewel Pendray was a woman reborn who recognized the strength of her feelings for the loving man who held her. “Put me down,” she said.
The smile fled from his face as he complied. “I ken that was no way to…”
She touched a finger to his lips and looked into his blue eyes. “The answer is aye, Garnet Barclay.”
* * *
Garnet was struck dumb. He’d dreamed of this moment, rehearsed what he would say when he proposed, what he’d do if she said no. He’d never imagined the happiest moment of his life would come about in a stable. He didn’t know what to do first—shout out his immense joy, strut about crowing like a rooster, or kiss Jewel silly.
“She said aye, ye fool,” Alastair shouted from a nearby stall. “Kiss her.”
Sparkling green eyes told him she agreed. Legs braced, he gathered her to his body and kissed her hungrily, his tongue mating with hers, breathing his love into her when she melted against him. He delighted in exploring textures, tastes, warm lips and the scent of her skin. “Ye’ve made me a happy mon,” he said when they broke apart, hoping the uncertainty he felt wasn’t visible in his eyes. He’d asked her to be his wife, but she was the daughter of an earl, and he had naught to offer but the hard, unpredictable life of tending cattle and sheep on a Highland farm. Furthermore, at heart he was no farmer—the reason he’d left Blairgowrie in the first place.
“We must clear yer name of the charges in Amsterdam,” she said. “My father can…”
He shook his head. She’d sensed his uncertainty and guessed wrongly at the reasons. “I forgot ye dinna ken. The ambassador told me my situation came to the attention of Prince William of Orange. The truth was uncovered and I was declared innocent. My escape was pre-arranged, though I didna ken it at the time.”
“The Prince of Orange?”
“He more or less rules Holland. He’s the nephew of the late king and married to our current king’s niece. He wants good relations with Scotland.”
“But Donald?”
“Nay the trusted friend I thought.”
The matter of the emeralds was too complicated to explain at this moment. He decided to surprise her later. A betrothal gift. “I want to tell my whole family the good news,” he said, putting an arm around her waist.
“First, I must tell Gray and Murtagh.”
“I’ll send Ian to fetch them.”
Mixed Feelings
Every head swiveled to the doorway when Garnet burst into the house. “Jewel’s memory has returned, and she’s agreed to be my wife.”
There was an unmistakable moment of silence before Mrs. Barclay and her daughters came to embrace them, offering effusive congratulations.
The glance the women had exchanged during that brief silence bothered Jewel. They were holding something back, but the excited bairns were clamoring for their turn at hugs and kisses, so she dismissed her misgivings.
Ian sulked when Garnet dispatched him to the Highlanders’ camp.
“Ye’ve recalled what happened to ye?” Mrs. Barclay asked, ushering her to a chair.
“Aye,” Jewel replied. “All of it, except I dinna ken what happened to Axton and Balford.”
“The dragoons went in pursuit,” Garnet told her. “They may have been recaptured by now.”
“Let’s hope so,” Sissy said. “Can ye tell us the tale?”
Jewel retold events as best she could, sometimes going back to mention things she’d forgotten about the places they’d hidden, the people who’d helped the fugitives. Garnet watched her intently. At first, she basked in his rapt attention, but became nervous when he began asking questions about her captors.
“Ye shared a horse with Axton?”
“I sat behind him most of the time, when he didna force me to walk.”
“Saints preserve us,” Sissy exclaimed, shooing the bairns out of the house.
Margaret folded her arms across her chest.
“Where did ye sleep in Castle Gloom?” Garnet asked.
“Did I nay tell ye? On the floor.”
“And in the cottage in Strathmiglo?”
“I told ye, I fell asleep with my head on the table.”
“Did they hurt ye?”
“Only when I fell into…” It suddenly dawned on her what he thirsted to hear. “Ye should understand that while I gradually lost some of my fear of David Axton, Balford was another matter. He wanted to kill me, but David wouldna allow it.”
She took a deep breath. “At the end, Axton intended to lower me into the dungeon and leave me there. Balford attacked me.” She felt the heat rise in her face. “Axton defended my honor. They fought and Balford wounded his comrade. He tore my gown, then became incensed when he saw the amulet Garnet had given me. He pushed me into the hole and that’s the last I remember, until my rescue.”
Mrs. Barclay made the Sign of the Cross. “Ye were saved by the blessed saint.”
“Twice,” Garnet said, putting his hands on her shoulders. “Aristotle sniffed out the medal in the corner where Balford had tossed it. That’s how we knew ye were there.”
His words were illuminating, but it was the reassuring warmth in his gentle grip that calmed her anxious heart. He believed her.
“Oh, one other thing,” she exclaimed. “They talked about emeralds.”
* * *
Garnet’s precious Jewel had survived her ordeal intact. He was immensely grateful for her sake, and selfishly elated for himself, but discussing intimate matters would have to wait for a more private time and place.
Gray and Murtagh’s arrival with Ian resulted in a tearful reunion. Neither man hid his relief at Jewel’s recovery and the news of their betrothal.
“I’m happy for ye,” Gray told them. “Ye belong together.”
“Did I nay say so from the start?” Murtagh added.
Margaret brought the backslapping, hugging and congratulations to an abrupt end. “Emeralds, ye said?”
Garnet would have to tell the whole story and it was fortunate the younger bairns had been relegated to the outdoors. Ian stayed and Beathan and Alastair came in from the stables.
Garnet kept his grip on Jewel’s shoulders while he told the tale, drawing strength when she crossed her arms and covered his hands with her own. His family members hadn’t understood his departure for the Netherlands, and now they would be only too happy to point out their misgivings had been justified.
Sissy covered Ian’s ears when Garnet alluded to his persecutor’s deviant tendencies.
His mother wept softly when he told of his torment in Amsterdam. “This Johannes will burn in hell for what he did, mark my words,” she predicted.
Margaret’s eyes widened when he mentioned the Prince of Orange. “Familiar with royalty now, are ye?”
“I never met him, but they say he’ll be the next King of England.”
“Protestant,” his mother hissed loudly.
Jewel continued the story. “Garnet was afraid the new Dutch ambassador would have him arrested in Edinburgh, but it seems the man brought news of the truth of the matter.”
“Aye,” Garnet confirmed. “And that’s how I found out Donald had received the emeralds as payment for helping w
ith my so-called escape.”
“Judas,” Sissy murmured.
“Axton and Balford had emeralds,” Jewel said. “I’m sure of it.”
“So did Donald,” Garnet replied. “But I have them now.”
* * *
A shiver of excitement thrummed through Jewel. Many of the ladies at King Charles’ court had worn emerald necklaces, ear-drops and tiaras. At least, Munro had said they were emeralds. Their mother had expressed doubts about the authenticity.
She refrained from expressing her delight when it became obvious the reactions of the others were mixed.
“Naught but trouble,” his mother declared.
“Can I see them?” Ian asked.
Margaret licked her lips in anticipation.
Sissy gaped.
Murtagh slapped Garnet on the back. “Ye’ll be rich.”
An awkward silence fell when Beathan stepped forward. “So, ye’ll settle here. Take over the estate?”
A hint of resentment in his voice worried Jewel.
Garnet’s grip on her shoulders tightened. “Barclay Grange is my home,” he replied. “But I ken ye and Alastair have made it prosper. I dinna intend to take over, as ye put it. As ye’re aware, I’m nay a farmer.”
His last words, spoken with a trace of a chuckle, troubled her even more. Garnet was an educated man who’d aspired to something beyond tending cattle and sheep in an often bleak environment. She wondered how happy he would be in Blairgowrie. She would gladly stay with him if it was what he wanted, but she knew nothing about farming.
“What do ye intend to do here?” Alastair asked. “Ye’re a mon of letters and yer wife-to-be’s the daughter of an earl.”
Jewel shifted her weight in the chair when Garnet’s fingers dug into her collarbone.
“’The house is crowded now with our four bairns, and two more on the way,” Margaret pointed out.
“I get the feeling ye dinna want me here,” Garnet retorted.
His mother got to her feet with some difficulty. “Nobody thinks that, son. Ye’ve every right to live here. We’ll find a way to all get along.”
It didn’t sound very promising to Jewel, and none of the others looked convinced.
Murtagh broke the uncomfortable silence. “This discussion is upsetting Mrs. Barclay. ’Tis time for celebrating, nay bickering.”
“Aye,” Garnet’s mother declared. “Welcome to our family, Jewel. Ye see what ye’ve let yerself in for. Beathan, fetch the whisky. Sissy, get the tumblers.”
Unsettled
As Jewel’s head wound began to heal, she and Garnet took to walking hand in hand across the meadows, laughing as they dodged piles of sheep dung and deep puddles. It was the only way to enjoy time alone together.
They found a shepherd’s bothy that afforded shelter from the persistent wind sweeping down from the Grampians and spent many an afternoon sitting on an old bench talking and sharing kisses.
Garnet had hoped he would gradually feel at home again in Blairgowrie, but the house was too crowded. Though his brothers-by-marriage were outwardly friendly, it was obvious his arrival had unsettled them. “I suppose they expected to inherit,” he told Jewel. “They see me as a threat.”
“And me,” she agreed.
“I’ve offered to help with the animals, but they’re right—I’d just be in the way.”
“Yer sisters willna let me do anything in the house, either.”
“We’ve upset the routine of their lives,” he admitted sadly.
“Yer mother’s coping,” she replied. “But, to be honest, I think ’tis Murtagh brings a smile to her face, nay ye and me.”
He’d noticed the growing attraction between his mother and the Highlander. “Aye. I feared she’d recognize and denounce him as one of the marauders. Instead, she seems infatuated with the mon.”
“She’s lonely.”
“Frankly, I think she was lonely even when Da was alive. He had no sense of humor, unlike Murtagh.”
“He’s taken with her, too. He never remarried after his first wife was killed during the Rebellion. I only recently found out about that. To me, Murtagh was a life-long bachelor, the loyal retainer who’d saved my father’s life.”
“I suppose the Barclays weren’t the only family to suffer during the Rebellion—but do ye seriously think they’ll marry?”
“I dinna ken. How would ye feel about that?”
He shrugged. “I want my mother to be happy.”
“I would wish the same for Murtagh. He’s a good mon.”
“Speaking of getting wed,” he said, removing his arm from around her shoulders, “we need to make plans.” He took hold of her hands and looked into green eyes. “I canna keep lingering in yer chamber until Mam coughs herself hoarse with indignation.” He gently placed her hand on his seemingly perpetual arousal. “I want ye in my bed.”
He cupped a breast when her cheeks reddened. “I’ll warrant yer blush has spread across these lovely tits ye let me kiss yesterday.”
* * *
Jewel inhaled sharply when Garnet brushed a thumb across her sensitive nipple. “They are warm,” she admitted, though she was too shy to tell him other intimate parts of her body heated whenever he so much as looked at her. When his mouth worked its magic on her nipples, she longed to touch his manhood without the wool of his trouzes in the way. “I want to wed with ye, but my parents are far away, and…”
“Ye want to go back to Ayrshire to marry?” he asked, looking apprehensive.
She wanted to surrender then and there to the cravings he caused, but in the long run they’d both be disappointed they hadn’t waited for their wedding night. “Like every lass, I dreamed of a big wedding in a church with all my family present, but I canna go back home until I’ve seen what I set out to see. Gray’s getting restless too. He’s anxious to make it to Kinneff.”
“Ye still hanker to visit Dunnottar?”
“I’ll always regret it if I dinna see for myself where my parents met. How far is it from here?”
He shrugged. “A day and a half, perhaps two.”
“Ye’ve only just come home.”
“True, but ye ken I dinna feel at home here and my family doesna need me. We could go to Dunnottar then return to Edinburgh. I’ll be able to sell the emeralds there, and perhaps seek a position with the Privy Council.”
“I’m certain Quinn would put in a good word for ye,” she agreed, relieved he’d come to the realization there was no future for either of them in Blairgowrie.
“Would ye be content to live in Edinburgh?” he asked, smiling broadly.
“I’d be content to live with ye anywhere,” she fibbed, her heart doing somersaults when he wiggled his eyebrows.
“What do ye say to a hand-fasting? Just until we can arrange something more grand. After all, we canna travel hither and yon as Mr. Barclay and Miss Pendray.”
An intriguing thought occurred. “What about the little church at Kinneff?”
* * *
In her excitement over the notion of hand-fasting in Kinneff, Jewel didn’t realize she’d increased the pressure of her fingers on Garnet’s shaft. The sweet torture urged him to stake his claim right then, but a shepherd’s bothy was no place for his elegant bride to surrender her maidenhead.
He pulled her up from the bench and gathered her in his arms. “We’ll break the news to my family, then to yer Highlanders.”
She swayed into him and traced a finger along his lip. “When do ye think we can leave?”
“Minx,” he scolded, licking the tempting finger. “Ye’re making it difficult to keep my hands off ye. The sooner the better.”
“And I’ve just remembered. My father was billeted at an inn in Stonehyve after the castle fell. If it still exists, it must be near Dunnottar.”
He arched a brow. “As I recall, it is.”
She linked arms with him as they set off for the manor house. “My parents both have fond memories of the inn. Between ye and me, I think they kissed and cudd
led there.”
Garnet stifled the urge to laugh. Jewel was sophisticated and physically demonstrative, yet so innocent. “Aye. Kissing and cuddling. Just like us. ’Twill be perfect.”
Forever Changed
Mounted once more atop her beloved horse, Jewel mused that leave-takings were probably always bittersweet. The departure from Kilmer had been filled with excitement, trepidation and apprehension, but she’d never for one moment thought she wouldn’t eventually return to the place she’d been born.
She contemplated the Grampians in the distance while Garnet bade his family a last farewell, and knew in her heart she would never see Blairgowrie again.
The ride deeper into the Highlands would be more comfortable, thanks to Gray. He’d surprised her the previous evening by producing the male trouzes, boots and doublet with which she’d begun the journey. She couldn’t believe he’d carried her satchel with him all the way from Edinburgh. Garnet related how Aristotle had followed the scent of the apprentice cap.
Sissy and Margaret’s hugs and well wishes were genuine, yet there was unmistakable relief in their eyes. Beathan and Alastair were clearly happy their brother-by-marriage had decided to seek his fortune elsewhere, though the jovial warnings about the pitfalls of married life seemed sincere.
The sulking bairns were bereft their favorite uncle was leaving.
Mrs. Barclay appeared resigned to her son’s decision, assuring him she felt it was for the best and expressing delight he’d found the right woman. She’d worked tirelessly to repair and clean Jewel’s gown and shoes so she’d have a decent frock to wear for the hand-fasting. “Actually, ’twill be something borrowed since it belongs to Beatris,” she revealed. “The shoes too.”
Murtagh’s imminent departure preoccupied Mrs. Barclay equally. Jewel half expected her and the Highlander to kiss as they stood inches apart at the door of the manor house, staring at each other. She was disappointed when he settled his bonnet on his head and walked purposefully to his horse.
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