Pretender's Game

by Louise Clark

  Grant shook his head. “Jamie! English she might be, but Theadora Tilton is a fine, spirited lass and as outspoken as any Scottish girl! She will not fall meekly into line, to please you or any man.”

  “She agreed to marry me.”

  Slowly Grant shook his head. He thumped his cane impatiently. “What has that to do with your mad idea of ordering her to leave Edinburgh for an estate deep in the mountains without so much as a warning, to say nothing of a discussion on the subject?”

  James couldn’t help the surprise in his voice. “Why would she think we would live in Edinburgh?”

  “Why would she not? I live in Edinburgh, or London. Most of the Scottish lords spend their time in either city, retreating to their estates only when the Season has ended, just as the English aristocracy does.”

  “Why would I return to Scotland so that I could waste my time attending parties? I had enough of that on the Continent.”

  Grant sighed. “You’re not listening, lad. What seems so clear to you and me is not necessarily evident to others, particularly your wife.”

  James mulled those comments over as they walked. Perhaps his father was right. Perhaps Thea would be upset about moving to Glenmuir. She would, after all, be leaving her family behind. But she was a soldier’s daughter. She must be used to separations. Then, too, he’d made no secret of his desire to return to Scotland, and to him Scotland meant Glenmuir, the MacLonan home deep in the Highlands.

  As they reached their destination he asked, “Do you truly think Thea will balk at the prospect of living at Glenmuir?”

  Grant’s mouth twisted into a rueful smile. “I can guarantee she will.” He shot a shrewd glance at his son. “So, what do you mean to do?”

  They went inside the sales pavilion, where James was able to forget his father’s question while he concentrated on the attributes of a lively gray mare with pretty black markings and a black mane and tail. After he put the mare through her paces in an indoor ring, he decided that the animal would do very well for Thea. His father suggested he should look at a fine chestnut stallion for himself. James also liked the horse, and decided to purchase it as well. Both animals had the breeding, strength, and spirit that he liked.

  When they were heading back Grant asked his question once again.

  “Jamie, how do you intend to tell Theadora that she will soon be traveling to Glenmuir?”

  James said reflectively, “It is all in the timing, I think. Thea has shown herself to be a woman who is too sensible to allow emotion to rule her for long. I will simply tell her at an appropriate moment, when she will be most receptive to the news.”

  Grant eyed his son consideringly, then his lips twitched. “You know the lady better than I do, Jamie, but I would think that you’ll have a devil of a fight on your hands! Take my advice, be very careful in the way you handle this, very careful indeed.”

  James looked uneasily at his father. Grant seemed to have a very different view of Theadora Tilton MacLonan than he did. “She will be fine. Sir, let me get you a chair,” he added as his father’s steps slowed.

  Grant thumped his cane irritably. “You’ll have to, Jamie. I do not think I can make it up these hills.” He shook his head gloomily. “To think that once I roamed Glenmuir’s mountains as lithe as a wild creature, and now I haven’t even the strength to walk up Edinburgh’s slopes.”

  “We’ve walked far, Papa. It was a longer outing than I expected.”

  The chairmen that James had hailed arrived and lowered the sedan chair for Grant to climb into. When he was settled he looked out at his son, his eyes twinkling. “Best think about getting back to your wife then, Jamie. I’ll see myself home from here.”

  *

  James was smiling as he entered the parlor at the Tilton residence.

  “Good afternoon, Sir Frederick, Lady Tilton,” he said automatically, as he crossed the room to Thea. He caught his wife’s hand and lifted it to his lips. “Mistress MacLonan, your servant.”

  She smiled up into his eyes with the same sweet, melting expression she’d used the night before. His loins tightened.

  “Mr. MacLonan,” she said, mimicking his formal usage, “it is my pleasure.”

  He trailed the kiss down to her fingertips, then deliberately took one into his mouth and nipped. Thea gasped, then blushed. James was as pleased as a schoolboy who had just done something naughty his parents wouldn’t approve of.

  Sir Frederick cleared his throat. James grinned and straightened, his eyes still locked with Thea’s. Then he turned to listen to what the general was saying.

  “Care for a glass of sherry, MacLonan? Fine vintage this. I can recommend it.” Tilton waved a hand toward the decanter resting on a side table.

  “Did you have a pleasant day, James?” Thea asked, her voice flowing like silk along his skin.

  He turned to her and smiled. “I visited my father this morning, Thea. We went on an expedition to purchase horses.”

  Sir Frederick choked on his wine and coughed. “An enjoyable experience, I take it?”

  James glanced at Tilton. When he looked back at Thea, he saw that she was now seated ramrod straight.

  “Were you able to purchase the horses you wanted, James?” she asked.

  James suddenly realized that his father was right. He was in for a fight and he hadn’t been able to choose his time.

  Cautiously, he said, “I was.”

  Arabella’s voice broke into the spell that seemed to lock James and Thea together. “Frederick you promised me that you would look over the household accounts. The totals do not add up and I cannot find where I have gone wrong.”

  She smiled at her husband in a coaxing way that reminded James of the way Thea sometimes looked at him. His lips twitched as the general tossed off the last of his wine in a cavalier manner and lumbered to his feet.

  “An excellent idea, m’dear. I’m always ready to help in household matters.”

  James watched them go out, amusement in his expression. “I do hope I did not chase your parents away, Thea.”

  Pink flags of color flared on Thea’s cheeks. “I think my parents believed we should be alone for a time.”

  “Sensible people. Mistress MacLonan,” he said softly, his eyes scrutinizing her expression, “would you care to take my arm?”

  Thea didn’t move. “‘Why?”

  He raised his brows. “I wish you to come to the window. I have something I would like to show you.”

  She rose in one fluid, furious movement. “As you wish, sir.”

  Eyeing her warily, James took her arm and guided her to a window. “Look outside. What do you see?”

  “Pedestrians, horses pulling carriages. Oh, there is Olivia Ramsey and her husband. They must be going to a dinner party. Why else—”

  “Not the traffic, Thea. Your gift!”

  She frowned. “I can see nothing that resembles a gift. Perhaps it is too far away….”

  He caught her head between his hands and turned it so that she looked in the direction he wanted her to. “There,” he said softly. “Do you see it now?”

  “The horse?”

  Somewhat deflated by her reaction to his present, he snapped, “Yes!”

  Thea looked more closely. “Though we are three stories up, the horse does appear to be a fine animal.” She looked up at him, a smile on her lips, but not in her eyes.

  James saw the fury simmering in her eyes and knew he was indeed in trouble. He said coaxingly, “I had hoped you would be more pleased with the gift than this.”

  She cocked her head, still smiling that empty social smile. “Have you already made plans how I might best make use of the animal?”

  He sucked in his breath. She knew. He had no idea how she had learned that they would be living in Glenmuir, but as his father had predicted, she was very, very angry. “Why do you ask?”

  Thea looked out the window again. Her tone was musing. “Although I have ridden much in the past, I rarely do so in Edinburgh. The street
s are too narrow and there is no place for polite society to ride here, as there is in London. I did wonder if you had other plans.”

  Silently cursing whoever had forced his hand, James said coolly, “What do you think those plans might be?”

  Turning away from the window, Thea went toward the hearth. There she prodded the fire with an iron poker, almost as if she would prefer to be poking him instead, James thought ruefully. “Since you force the issue, sir, I will tell you what you should have told me in the first place. Your plans, I believe, include leaving Edinburgh for some benighted spot in the mountains.”

  James suppressed his annoyance over her description of his beloved Glenmuir. “You don’t approve of our removal to the Highlands.”

  Thea tossed down the poker, then swept him a graceful, mocking curtsy. “I go where my husband commands. It is not mine to approve or disapprove.”

  James said mildly, “You would do well to remember that, madam.”

  Rising to her full height, Thea’s angry brown eyes challenged him. “When we’ve reached Glenmuir, Mr. MacLonan, do you intend to tell others all of those unimportant little details that a husband usually tells his wife? Will I be the last to know if you decide to visit one of your other properties, only finding out when you don’t sit down to dinner with me?”

  “That is unfair, Thea.”

  She made a little sound that seethed with frustration. “Was it fair of you to tell my parents that we would be living in Glenmuir before you told me?”

  “So that is what this is all about,” James breathed softly. He suspected that his father had decided that the Tilton family deserved to know that their daughter would not be living in Edinburgh, and so he’d mentioned the issue to General Tilton—in confidence, most likely, James thought cynically—Tilton had then told his wife, who had told Thea. The result was the righteous fury that was driving Thea now.

  “I expected better of you, sir!”

  “Thea, have done! I did not deliberately set out to slight you.”

  “But it happened!”

  “Yes, it did.”

  Her eyes blazing, she hurried to the door in a rustle of silken skirts. There she paused, dramatically outlined in the opening. “We both know the reasons for our marriage, James MacLonan. I do not expect affection from you, but I do expect respect. Next time you have an order to give which concerns me, pray consider informing me before any other.”

  “That sounds remarkably like a threat.”

  Thea opened her eyes in a wide, guileless expression. “Would I threaten my husband? I merely ask to be accorded the civilities any married woman is owed by her mate.”

  She was giving him fair warning that she would not allow herself to be treated as anything other than his equal. Very well, he was willing to accept that, but there were some matters in which he refused to concede his power over his wife. A slow lazy smile touched James’s mouth as he caught Thea before she could fully enter the hallway. Gently he drew her back into the room. “I think,” he said softly, touching her cheek, “I begin to understand you.”

  Though she did not struggle, she turned her face away, refusing to meet his eyes. He bent and kissed her lightly along her elegant jawline. She shuddered. He took advantage of the moment to slip his arm around her waist and draw her to him. “I promise you, Thea, you have my respect and more.”

  “James… the servants.”

  He shut the door and turned her face so that he could kiss her on the lips. “The servants are an excuse. Kiss me, Thea.”

  He had the great satisfaction of feeling his fierce, willful wife surrender to the pleasure of his touch.

  *

  Although it was nearly May, there was a bite in the gusty wind that whipped through Edinburgh’s narrow streets. Sitting in the sedan chair carried by two stalwart bearers, wrapped up in a furlined cloak, Thea shivered. She thought about her husband, walking beside the chair, and wondered if he were as cold as she. Then she dismissed the idea with a certain amount of pouting disdain. James MacLonan could not be cold! After all, was he not the man demanding that they travel to his Highland estate as soon as possible, even though spring had hardly arrived?

  She shivered again, not from the cold, as her thoughts dwelt on the future. Although she did not know much about the Scottish Highlands, beyond the obvious—that the region was a vast tract of mountainous country and that it was home to the Jacobite sedition—she was not burdened with the prejudice against the area that many others in Edinburgh were.

  Moreover, although Thea had lived the past several years in cities, first London and now Edinburgh, she had been born on her father’s small estate in Kent and had spent most of her life there. Country life had no fears for her; indeed, in some ways she preferred it. Her concern now was not country life, but life amongst strangers.

  She had hoped, no, she had assumed, that she would have some time to become acquainted with James here in Edinburgh where her family would be nearby to champion her and give her comfort should she need it. At Glenmuir she would be alone, forced to cope with whatever James thrust at her as best she could, with little or no support. Deep in her soul, the prospect terrified her.

  Hence her defiance. Theadora Tilton was the daughter of an officer in the British Army. She had been raised not to show her fears no matter what the situation. Leadership, her father had said to her many times, begins with strength. Show contempt for danger and you will give yourself and your men heart. Show fear and you will find yourself alone. So Thea had learned not to cry when she was afraid. Instead, she laughed, taunting her fears rather than bowing down to them. Usually it worked, but there had been so many shifts and changes to face since she had met James MacLonan. She was weary in a way that went beyond physical fatigue.

  Glenmuir. A pretty name. She considered it as she tried to imagine what the estate was like. Grant MacLonan was a wealthy man, so his home must be a very fine property indeed. She envisioned a large house, old-fashioned, for the MacLonan had lived on the estate for generations, but well kept, as befitted the principal residence of an aristocrat. Around it was a green park, with gently rolling acreage, including a small stream that lead into a picturesque lake. A romantic ruin, in the Classical style, was situated between the house and the lake. In her mental image, Glenmuir was a gentleman’s property, well kept, well loved, and very safe. It was also remarkably like her father’s estate in Kent.

  Reassured, Thea sighed and laid her head back against the cushions. Her eyes closed.

  On this evening, the party was a poetry reading at the home of one of Edinburgh’s leading citizens. The reading was in full swing when Thea and James arrived. The hostess greeted them effusively and dragged Thea into the salon. James was given into the care of his host, and borne away to converse with the gentlemen or join a game of cards in progress.

  In the salon, Thea stood quietly, listening without much attention to the young man spouting endless lines of uninspired poetry about the noble past of the great Scottish nation. Fanning herself idly, she scrutinized the crowd. The party was well attended. She noticed Olivia Ramsey in one corner, her daughters nowhere in sight. Olivia was glancing around as Thea was, clearly bored by the recital.

  She caught sight of Thea and her gaze brightened. With a polite word here and a nod there, she made her way over to Thea’s side. “My dear, how good to see you!”

  Thea chuckled. “Is poetry not to your fancy, Mrs. Ramsey?”

  “Of course I dote upon poetry, when it is done properly! But really! How is one expected to enjoy a full evening listening to men who should have better ways to occupy their time than writing and reading maudlin verses about the history of Scotland?”

  Thea chuckled. “You may be listening to the birth pains of a great genius, Mrs. Ramsey.”

  “Stuff,” retorted Olivia roundly.

  “I fear that you are too practical to enjoy the artistic flights of fancy of your Scottish poets.”

  “I am also loyal to the Crown! So
me of the poets tonight have verged on seditious in their writings!”

  Sedition was a word loaded with meanings that went beyond what was happening in this room tonight. “Better that they verge on sedition than that they carry through,” Thea murmured.

  Olivia eyed her shrewdly. “Your husband has mellowed you, my dear. Perhaps you will have the same effect on him.”

  Surprised, Thea shot her a questioning glance.

  “I simply meant that Mr. MacLonan, being a pardoned Jacobite, will always need the strength of your Whiggish views, Miss Til—Mrs. MacLonan!”

  “My husband has left his Jacobite leanings behind him, ma’am,” Thea said stiffly.

  Olivia patted her on the arm. “Of course he has, my dear. And after a few seasons here in Edinburgh he will have forgotten all of those silly Highland ideas of his.”

  Thea turned her face away.

  Olivia drew a quick breath. “Thea? He is remaining in Edinburgh, is he not?”

  Thea waved her fan. With a great effort of will, she assumed that bright, bold expression that hid the fears that tormented her. Strength! How she needed some right now. “We repair to Glenmuir as soon as the roads are clear.”

  Frowning, Olivia scrutinized Thea’s expression. “You will have much to prepare for between now and then.”

  Thea smiled and said with an enthusiasm she didn’t feel, “Yes, I will have to begin immediately. The house has not been lived in since the Rising, so I intend to purchase linens, draperies, and some furnishings at the very least.”

  “At the very least,” Olivia repeated.

  It was Thea’s turn to frown. “Mrs. Ramsey, you sound… oh, I don’t know, ominous, perhaps. Is there something about Glenmuir that I should know?”

  “Travel in this weather is bound to be uncomfortable.”

  Thea nodded, her brows raised. Olivia was stating the obvious.

  “By the time you reach Glenmuir you will be exhausted.”

  By this time Thea knew that Olivia Ramsey had more to impart than a few self-evident observations.