Pretender's Game

by Louise Clark

  “He was unstable,” Thea said on a sigh. “I could see the malice in his eyes, in the way he acted.”

  “Thea, dear heart, doesn’t that tell you something? No one person can do more than they are able. If they do their best, then they should have no regrets. You did all you could to protect Maggie. Don’t torture yourself with what might have been, or what you should have done. Blame should only be laid on those who don’t bother to try.”

  She swallowed threatened tears and said thickly, “That is why you are going to Edinburgh.”

  “Maggie’s dead. But Williams must be punished for his crimes. He must be brought to justice.”

  She looked up into her husband’s hard, implacable eyes. “James, promise me something.”

  “If it is within my power, I will.”

  A hammering on the door interrupted them. There was the sound of stamping boots. Then a deep male voice spoke to Morag, who had answered the knock. Thea frowned. James moved away, his attention focused on the sounds from the hallway. Thea listened to the voices. Surely the accent of the man’s voice was not Scottish.

  The door to the parlor opened and Morag said in a hesitant manner, “Lord Staverton.”

  There was a moment of surprised silence. Then James strode forward to shake his old friend’s hand in greeting.

  “Staverton! This is a pleasure, but I thought you were in London.”

  “Indeed I was, MacLonan.” He bowed to Thea. “Good evening to you, Mrs. MacLonan. I trust I find you well?”

  Thea avoided the question. “You must have been traveling all day, Lord Staverton. Morag, tell Cook that we have company and to prepare Lord Staverton a supper. Once you have done that, make up the guest chamber.” Morag bobbed a curtsy and hurried off.

  While Thea issued her orders, James went over to a sturdy side table where several decanters rested, as well as a set of crystal wine goblets Thea had brought from Edinburgh. He poured brandy into a glass and handed it to Staverton. Thea turned back and for the first time Staverton was able to see her full face. In the act of accepting the glass from James, he froze. Then, without comment, he looked sharply at James, a question in his eyes.

  James said pleasantly, “Sit down, Staverton, and tell us what has driven you north at this time of year.”

  Flicking up his coattails, Staverton sat on a carved wooden chair with a wicker seat and back, then he sighed and stretched his long legs out before him. For a moment he stared at the dark wine, watching the shading shift in the flicker of the firelight. He looked up at James and said mockingly, “What would my cronies in London think of me if they could see me as I am now—dirty, disheveled, slouching! Crimes the fashionable man must never commit!”

  James laughed. “I am sure the fashionable man would never attempt a journey into our mountains if he did not have something more to him than the stuffing of his coat.”

  The viscount sipped his wine and seemed to consider this. “Perhaps. But does the fashionable man want to be anything more than that? An interesting question, don’t you think?”

  “Have you been traveling long?” Thea asked tensely. The pointlessness of this conversation was irritating her already raw nerves. Lord Staverton would not have traveled to Glenmuir without warning, when the summer weather was worsening into winter and the days were rapidly growing shorter, unless he had a very good reason to do so. A need to discuss the philosophy of the fashionable man simply was not it.

  Staverton tossed off the brandy in his glass. James poured him another. “Over a sennight, Mrs. MacLonan. I made good time from London to Stirling, but once I got into these endless mountains, I lost my way more times than I care to remember. There were moments when I thought I’d leave my bones among the crags and heather. Not,” he added thoughtfully, “a pleasant prospect.”

  “You did not stop in Edinburgh and engage a guide?” James asked, surprised.

  A grimace touched Staverton’s features. “No. I didn’t want to waste the time. That was a mistake, but I thought I remembered the way.”

  Thea frowned. “You’ve been here before?”

  Staverton nodded absently. “Yes. I stayed here for several weeks in ‘46 when James was injured…” He broke off, looking from James to Thea.

  Thea drew a sharp, annoyed breath. “I see.” She noticed Morag hovering at the door, and raised her brows in query.

  The young Scot announced that Lord Staverton’s supper was served and his room was ready for him at any time. Thea nodded. She returned to her place on the settee and picked up her embroidery once more. “James, are you going to join Lord Staverton? I think I will remain here. I pray you will excuse me, Lord Staverton.”

  “Thea, come with us.”

  Staverton looked sharply at James. The expression in his eyes said that he found his old friend’s behavior very strange.

  Thea shook her head. “I am sure you and Lord Staverton have much to discuss, James. When you are ready, you can rejoin me here. I will be waiting.”

  “I don’t want to leave you on your own.”

  “Then I will ask Morag to sit with me. But that is no more necessary than your staying is. James,” she said softly, “go.”

  After a moment he did. When they were alone in the dining room, Staverton dropped his pose of indolent society buck. “What the devil has been going on up here, MacLonan?”

  “It’s a long story. I’ll tell you later. First I want to know what has brought you here all the way from London.”

  Staverton helped himself to a slice of cold roasted venison. “The Pretender. The Pretender brought me north.”

  “Bonnie Prince Charlie? Why? When Thea’s family visited in August, General Tilton told me that he was dead.”

  A small, bitter smile quirked Staverton’s mouth, then was gone. “Ah, but is he?”

  A frown settled on James’s forehead, but he remained silent, waiting for Staverton to finish.

  The viscount watched the shimmering wine as he moved the crystal goblet delicately between his hands. Then he transferred his gaze to James and said very deliberately, “I too, heard that the Prince was dead. The rumor was all over town, as you say. But when I saw the Prince in London a month ago, he certainty looked very healthy for a dead man.”

  “The Prince was in London? Why? What was he doing?”

  “Going to parties, touring the city, terrifying his former adherents with his audacity, converting.”

  James raised a brow. “Changing his faith? He became a member of the Church of England?” When Staverton nodded, James said, “The man is mad.”

  “Quite possibly,” Staverton agreed.

  James thought for a minute. Staverton politely tucked into his dinner and let James mull over his thoughts in silence. Finally James slapped the table and said, “Staverton, Thea must join us before we discuss this further.”

  “Do you trust her, MacLonan?”

  “With my life,” James said as he stood up.

  “The way alliances mature never ceases to amaze me,” Staverton observed as James vanished through the doorway.

  Thea was still protesting when the couple returned. “Listen to Staverton,” James said firmly. “His news is the clue we need to understand what happened here.”

  She frowned. “How could that be?”

  “It is not completely clear to me, but… Staverton, tell us both what happened in London, all of the details this time.”

  “The Prince landed in England on September fourteenth. A few days later he was in London, meeting with his former supporters.”

  Thea’s eyes widened and her hand crept up to touch the spot where Williams had struck her. “Is another rebellion planned?”

  “Not amongst the Englishmen who once supported his cause,” the viscount said grimly. “May I explain more fully, ma’am?”

  Thea nodded.

  “I spoke to him one time and heard a great deal more from others. I saw him at a card party. My hostess was once a supporter of the Jacobite cause and I had debated w
hether or not I should attend that evening, but I decided to go. I’d been there for about an hour when there was a bit of a stir. I looked up. Charles Edward Stuart had just entered the room. He’d gained weight since I’d last seen him and he looked older, but it was he. I tried to avoid him, but eventually we were introduced. He called himself Chevalier Douglas and laughed when he used the name, as if all of this was some great joke.” Staverton’s mouth twisted. “My heart was pounding so hard that I thought I was going to be ill. I expected a detachment of soldiers to charge through the door at any moment to arrest us all. But nothing happened. The Prince played cards and enjoyed himself as if he hadn’t a care in the world. I can’t say that I was infected with the same heedless pleasure.”

  “Is that the worst of it?” James demanded as Staverton stared gloomily at his glass of wine.

  “No. There’s more.” Staverton sighed. “The Prince was observed at the Tower, apparently examining its defenses.” James made a rude sound in his throat, and Staverton grinned. “He was also seen in other parts of London. He was apparently taking in the sights.”

  “I fail to see how this could affect us,” Thea said a little stiffly.

  Both men sobered. Staverton said, “Because, ma’am, the Prince also arranged a meeting with many of his old adherents. Then afterwards he very publicly abandoned his Roman Catholic faith to join the Church of England.”

  Thea uttered a soft sound and touched her cheek. James said grimly, “Did you go to the meeting, Staverton?”

  “I was invited, but I did not go. I’ve been working hard, pretending to be a harmless fashionable fop who is of no danger to the government. My father is young and healthy and will live for many years yet, but when he dies I want to inherit his estates and his title in my turn. I finished with the Pretender after Culloden. My days as a rebel are over.”

  “So you do not know what was discussed.”

  Staverton shook his head.

  “Is the Prince still in London?”

  “That’s the worst of it. No one knows. He’s disappeared.”

  Aghast, James and Thea both stared at Staverton.

  “He’s disappeared? How can that be?” Thea whispered.

  “He has a habit of doing it,” Staverton said grimly. “Several years ago he was living in France, on the bounty of King Louis. Then the war between France and England ended and the Prince was asked to leave France. He refused. Louis sent a detachment of soldiers to escort him to the border, but the Prince went to ground and disappeared. He turned up in Avignon a short while later, but was asked to leave there. Once again he disappeared. He’s spent years popping up here or there, then disappearing again. No one in Europe knows where he will turn up next.”

  James said grimly, “And the last time he was seen was in London.”

  “He could be anywhere now,” Staverton said glumly.

  It was Thea who said what they were all thinking. “He could be here in the Highlands.”

  The viscount nodded. “That is why I came north, to warn James not to become involved if the Prince approaches him. The Stuart cause is finished in England. Another attempt at rebellion would destroy Scotland.”

  Suddenly things made sense to Thea. She looked at her husband. “James, the lieutenant. He knew whose land he was on. His violence was deliberate—a warning of how the army would respond to any future risings!”

  “What lieutenant?” Staverton demanded. “Was it he who put that bruise on your cheek, Mrs. MacLonan?”

  “‘Worse than that, my lord! He murdered a woman in front of me.” She looked from the viscount to her husband. “We could not understand why the patrol should seize a harmless woman to question her on activities she knew nothing about. Now you tell us the Pretender is loose somewhere in Britain! Lord Staverton, is it possible that the government knew the Prince was in England and while they were sure of his whereabouts they let him play out whatever game he planned?”

  Staverton’s eyes took on a distant look as he thought. Finally, he said grimly, “The Prince wandered around London making no effort to hide himself. Oh, he used a false name, as I said, but his face is easily recognizable. In fact, there have been plaster busts of him on sale for some time. Not a bad likeness either.”

  “The government must have allowed him his freedom for a reason. Why?” James asked.

  “I’ve been a fool.” Staverton stiffened. “It wasn’t the Prince they wanted, but his supporters! Damn, I’ve probably been watched for weeks and not known it. By seeking you out, MacLonan, I’ve done the very thing they hoped.”

  James shook his head. “No. No, Staverton, I think you’re wrong. The murder happened before you reached Glenmuir. I was only pardoned a year ago—I am as well known to be a Jacobite supporter as you are. No, I think the dragoons were sent to observe the Highlands, to watch for any signs of disturbance.”

  “Then the murder was an accident?” Thea saw again the sneering face of the lieutenant, felt her horse pirouette beneath her, knew the subtle menace of massed, armed men. “Could it be? Was Williams supposed to do nothing unless it was necessary?”

  James watched her through narrowed eyes. “You said you identified yourself to him.”

  “I did. He called me a traitor… But that fits! He was ordered to watch, not interfere, but he did interfere and he overstepped his bounds! That was why he rushed away without making any attempt to help an injured woman!”

  “Yes,” James said, “it is possible. If Williams has acted in the same way in other parts as he did here at Glenmuir, that could be enough to inflame the Highlands and provide the Prince with the spark he needs to raise the clans again.”

  There was silence when James finished.

  “Williams is a damned menace,” Staverton said finally.

  “I want Williams stopped.” James touched Thea’s cheek gently, tenderly. “I want him punished for what he did to my wife and I want him hanged for the murder of my clanswoman. I must go to Edinburgh, now, before his actions can be brushed away as part of a necessary action to control the Highlands.”

  “I’ll go with you, MacLonan,” the viscount said promptly. “You have my help in any way you need.”

  “And I will go too.”

  James cupped her cheek in his palm. “No, Thea. The journey is too long and the weather may well turn nasty. You must stay here.”

  Thea faced him defiantly. “You married me for my family connections, James MacLonan. Though my father no longer commands in Edinburgh, I am still his daughter and I have many friends there. My family has long supported the Hanovers and the Whig party. If there is any gossip that you are involved in another attempt at rebellion, then my presence by your side will go a long way to correcting that misconception. Now, James, if we are agreed, I have much to do before we leave.”

  Chapter 15

  Edinburgh was bleak and windy when the party from Glenmuir arrived less than a sennight later. The weather had been kind to them in the mountains, but rain began to fall once they reached the more traveled road, soaking them all, for James had not had an opportunity to arrange to have a coach meet them. They rode quickly, rapidly outdistancing the cart that carried their servants and baggage. When Edinburgh finally came into sight, Thea was wet and very tired, though the morning sickness that had plagued her before the incident with Lieutenant Williams had disappeared. That in itself led her thoughts into dark concern. What if her ordeal had caused her to lose the baby? Her exhausted mind fretted over that, building a question into a fact, even though she had no evidence to justify it. Now it was impossible for her to tell James about her pregnancy, another grim reminder of the insidious power Lieutenant Williams wielded.

  Grant MacLonan was out when they arrived, but the butler welcomed James warmly and invited them all in with the promise of a hot meal and a place to change their clothes immediately. Thea had included a gown in the baggage that was carried by a packhorse, and so she had warm, dry clothing to change into.

  She was sitting by
the fire with James, sipping a much-needed cup of tea, when a fuss was heard in the hallway. Grant MacLonan, leaning heavily on his cane, limped into the room. He frowned at the sight of his son and daughter-in-law.

  “Jamie! Theadora! So it is true, you are here!”

  James stood up and nodded as he went over to take his father’s hand and help him over to one of the wing chairs placed before the fire.

  “Pray do not misunderstand, Jamie, but why have you come? I did not expect to see you until next spring, if then. Your last letter made no mention of returning to Edinburgh for the winter.”

  “‘We are not here for the winter, sir.”

  “I see.” Grant lowered himself carefully into the chair. When he was comfortable, he tapped his cane on the floor, then put it aside. “Would you care to tell me why you are here?”

  “Perhaps we should wait until Lord Staverton joins us.”

  Grant shot James a sharp look. “Staverton’s here, is he? Very well. I’ll hold on to my curiosity, even though I don’t like it.’” He looked past James to Thea and smiled. “My dear, I have not had the opportunity to greet you properly. Welcome to my home. I hope you did not find the journey too tiring?”

  Thea smiled in return, but as she spoke she carefully kept her face in profile. “It was exhausting, sir. I was glad to reach Edinburgh and even more grateful for the warm welcome your staff gave us upon our arrival.”

  “Good,” Grant said, responding to Thea’s comment about his servants. He turned to James. “Was it necessary to bring Theadora on so urgent a journey, Jamie? Could she not have remained at Glenmuir?”

  “No!” The word burst from Thea with far more emphasis than she intended. “No,” she added more quietly. “No, Mr. MacLonan, I came despite James’s reservations. In this instance, my place is beside him, whether or not the journey was a hard one.”

  His brows raised, Grant looked at his son. “My curiosity is definitely piqued. I do hope Lord Staverton will not be much longer.”

  “Do I hear my name spoken?” Staverton sauntered into the room. His coat was a golden damask, his breeches a rich royal blue. Nestled in the luxuriant fall of lace at his throat was a glittering sapphire pin in a gold setting, and on his gleaming black shoes were diamond buckles. He had even applied a patch to his cheek. He look the very picture of a London fop.