The Devilish Lord Will

by Jennifer Ashley

  Will nodded. “He’s a wily old goat, but fair-minded, as you know, and he’ll do anything for his daughter’s sake.”

  “Including give you information you can feed Sir Harmon and Macdonald? To get them arrested?”

  “Maybe.” Will continued to study the paper. He felt Josette’s eyes on him—she wondering what he was up to. “I’ll visit him, no matter what.”

  Josette watched him sharply, suspicion in her gaze. Before he could tell her not to worry—not that she’d believe him—a shout sounded outside the folly.

  A moment later, Henri hauled a small lad into the summerhouse, one with wiry red hair and equally wiry limbs.

  “Let me down, ye great lout!” the lad shouted. “I have t’ speak to Lord Will.”

  “And you need to keep your voice down,” Will said severely. “Let him go, Henri. Thank you for your vigilance.”

  Henri thumped the smaller boy onto his feet but watched him closely, ready to grab him if he made any wrong move.

  “He sent me t’ warn ye,” the lad said, out of breath. “Mr. Naughton did. The Macdonald has left his house, and he’s heading here, to pay a visit to Sir Harmon Bentley. At this very minute, m’lord. I came straight across the hills, while he’s meandering on the road, but he won’t be long behind me.” The boy’s legs buckled, and he fell to the floor before Will or Henri could catch him. He sat up and rubbed a hand over his sweat-soaked hair, making it stand up in spikes. “Lord, I could murder a pint.”

  Josette was amazed how well frightening news focused her mind. Instead of worrying about what they might have to do, she knew exactly what they needed to do. Immediately.

  So did Will. They exchanged a glance, which said everything.

  “Henri, run for Bhreac and tell him to bring the horses,” Will said. “Coach will be too slow. Ellis …”

  “You’ll need to come with us, Captain,” Josette finished for him.

  “Or hide myself,” Captain Ellis argued. “When Macdonald is gone, I’ll return to the house and tell Sir Harmon the pair of you begged me to escort you to the next town, afraid to travel the wilderness alone. He’ll believe that.”

  Will was already shaking his head. “If Macdonald and Sir Harmon compare notes too closely, they’ll start to wonder why you had to take on Sir Jacobs’ identity, and I do not want them to put you to the question. Better to let them think, at worst, that we’re a gang of confidence tricksters running off with a bit of gold.”

  “He’ll chase you for that,” Ellis said. “I can’t disappear. I am known by name to them.”

  “If they believe we’re robbers, yes, they’ll give chase, but not as enthusiastically as they will if they find out who I really am.”

  “And the longer we debate, gentlemen, the closer Macdonald comes,” Josette broke in. “We need to go now. You too, Captain Ellis.”

  Captain Ellis did not look happy at the abrupt end to his mission. “I was close to finding hard evidence that Harmon is up to no good,” he growled.

  “No worries about that,” Will said with confidence. “I’ll let you make the grand arrest when the time comes. You’ll have to leave your things behind.”

  Captain Ellis’s mouth pinched, but he nodded. “I have learned to travel light. They’ll find nothing but my shaving gear.”

  Not long later Bhreac appeared in the open land beyond the summerhouse, leading sturdy horses, one of them belonging to Captain Ellis.

  “Do ye know what it cost me to procure that carriage?” Bhreac growled to Will even as Will lifted Josette to a mount. “And all those clothes?”

  There was no saddle—no time for it. Will sprang up behind Josette, his body a warm bulk, arms coming around her to take the reins. Captain Ellis got himself onto his horse with the ease of long practice, but Henri stared up at the beast he was to ride with complete distrust.

  Naughton’s lad gave Henri a leg-up, and Henri, after sliding around a bit, found his seat, but remained uneasy.

  “I’ll pay ye for them,” Will said to Bhreac, letting the tones of Sir William depart forever. “I’m always good for it, aren’t I?”

  Bhreac sent him a dark look.

  Josette reached down and handed the Scottish boy a coin—not one of the French ones, but a silver crown. “Thank you, lad. You rest yourself, and enjoy your pint.”

  He snatched up the coin and gave Josette an elegant bow. “Thank ye, ma’am. Best I be off. Don’t worry, lass, I can get back over the hills easy as pissing.”

  He waved at them and launched himself into the heather, his face bright with smiles.

  “Regrets, Lady Jacobs?” Will said in Josette’s ear as he followed Bhreac unerringly up the track into the boulder-strewn slopes.

  “For my wardrobe?” Josette touched her cheek to his. “All I need is a simple garment, Sir William, and I’m happy.”

  “A wisp of red to float over your bosom, perhaps?” His voice held warmth, comfort.

  Josette flushed, remembering his lazy smile the day he’d walked into Alec’s studio. A happy time, an innocent time, when the world was full of possibilities.

  “’Twould need to be a bit larger now,” she said. “I’ve grown stout.”

  Will laughed, the rumble pleasant. “Ye are the most beautiful woman I know, my Josie. That hasn’t changed.”

  “Flatterer,” Josette said but let herself enjoy his words.

  Josette closed her hand around the horse’s thick mane, leaned into Will, and used his warmth to cut the chill of the summer rain as they rode into the Highlands.

  Josette assumed Will would take them back to Strathy Castle where the ladies and Glenna waited, but he turned them south instead. This worried her more than a bit, but he declined to tell them where they were going. Bhreac didn’t seem to mind, and even Captain Ellis let Will lead them without argument.

  The horses were compact and strong, bred on the Highlands to navigate these hills. They rode straight up mountainsides and down into glens, avoiding any roads, Will finding paths Josette would never have known were there. Captain Ellis and Henri followed closely, as though fearing to stray a step Will didn’t take. Bhreac, on the other hand, rode easily, holding the reins negligently while he hummed lively tunes.

  Josette didn’t fancy camping out with no blankets in her now rain-splotched finery, but Will had provided for that as well. The point between day and night was confusing in the summer light, but as Josette’s body drooped in exhaustion, Will led them into a hollow that contained a black stone house with smoke trickling from a hole in its roof.

  The man who emerged to challenge them with a wicked-looking sword took one look at Will, lowered the weapon, and walked back into the house without a word.

  Unconcerned, Will slid from his horse, helped Josette down—her legs buckled until he steadied her—and strode into the house. A woman’s voice rose, speaking in Erse, the syllables gliding pleasantly through Josette’s tiredness.

  Worn hands closed around Josette, and an elderly woman led her into a place of warmth. The cottage was very small, but the rain stayed outdoors, and the wind almost did.

  The man spoke little, the woman volubly, but only in her own language. Josette didn’t mind her chattering as the woman took her behind a blanket that divided a bed from the rest of the house and helped Josette out of her clothes. She slid a nightdress made of scratchy homespun fabric over Josette’s head and wrapped her in a length of faded wool plaid.

  Josette wanted to ask questions, but sleep took her too quickly. She never remembered lying down, but the next thing she knew she woke to light trickling through stones. She lay on a hard mattress with no pillow, but she was warm wrapped in the plaid.

  As soon as she stirred the woman popped around the blanket. She had a drab brown gown over her arm that she fitted onto Josette with the skill of a lady’s maid. She spoke only Erse but managed to make her point clear—Josette was to keep this dress, the leather breeches that went under it, and the soft leather boots she tied on Josette’s feet. />
  The woman was tiny and wizened, and far too small for the clothes she gave Josette, but Josette didn’t argue or question. She thanked the woman in both French and English and hoped she understood.

  Will waited with their three companions and host out under the sky, all eating a makeshift breakfast with their fingers. Bannocks, Josette realized as the woman thrust a cloth at her containing the oat cakes. Josette had learned to make bannocks herself and sometimes served them at her boarding house dripping with butter and dollops of cream. These were plain and dry, and a bit gritty, but Josette ate them gratefully.

  Josette noted that the woman and her husband were accepting of Henri and only slightly wary of Captain Ellis—they seemed to not be overly worried that a British army officer stood among them. They were wariest of all, interestingly, of Bhreac.

  “Because I’m from the Borderlands,” Bhreac explained to Josette. “The devil in breeches. Will vouched for the captain and Henri, so they’ll trust them—or at least they trust Will. He won’t vouch for me.”

  “Why not?” Josette asked in surprise. “I thought you were friends.”

  Bhreac winked at her. “Don’t mean he trusts me. We go a long way back, me and Will. He knows better. I don’t trust him either.”

  “You two lead very complicated lives,” Josette said, licking crumbs from her fingers.

  “Not really. Will knows everyone in the Highlands. I know everyone in the Lowlands and the Border country. Sometimes we pool our knowledge; sometimes we’re at odds. We know which is which.”

  Josette let it go and finished her bannocks.

  They mounted up soon after breakfast and rode off, Will slipping the woman coins on his way.

  “Friends of yours?” Josette asked lightly as they headed southward, she doubling with Will once more. Bhreac had brought an extra horse, which they used to carry their meager belongings, including the casket of gold. Will kept hold of the packhorse’s lead rein.

  “Aye. They have a daughter, who married a man in Edinburgh. I helped get her there safely during the Uprising. They’re grateful.”

  “I’m certain.” Josette’s gown and boots must have belonged to their daughter. Will had given up their finery in exchange—the man and wife would sell the clothes to a secondhand shop the next time they ventured to a city.

  The breeches under the skirt ensured Josette could sit astride the horse, giving her more stability, though she didn’t mind Will encircling her with his arms.

  Their journey progressed much the same in the following days, Will taking them across difficult hills and down into steep-walled glens, around lochs and over rivers, arriving at a tucked-away farmhouse as night fell, to be welcomed as friends.

  They met no one on the tracks—saw no other person outside the stone houses where they spent the nights. The occasional clump of shaggy Highland cows turned their heads to watch them pass, as though wondering why humans had wandered this far into the wilderness. As Will and party journeyed south, the cows gave way to sheep, who gave them the same stare through similarly long forelocks.

  If Sir Harmon or Macdonald pursued them, there was no sign of it.

  Will moved easily, leading them up the steepest hills and fording chilly rivers without concern. He wore shirt, breeches, woolen coat, and a length of plaid that had once been dark green, obtained from the same couple who’d given Josette her gown. The clothes fit him suspiciously well—the man had been as tiny as his wife. Josette guessed the clothes were Will’s, left there in case he needed them.

  He’d left things for himself at all the houses in their path, Josette learned as they went. Will was always greeted as a friend, the surly expressions on the crofters’ faces lightening as soon as they recognized him.

  Will shrugged when Josette asked him about it while they lay together one night.

  “You do good for people, they don’t forget,” Will said. “Whether Highlander or Lowlander. Not much difference between us but old prejudices. Well, that and wars. Battles. Bad blood. But even so, we’re all struggling to get through life the same, aren’t we?”

  Because they were in a bed together, Will and his plaid wrapped around her, Josette had no impetus to argue.

  After five days of hard travel, Josette discovered Will’s destiny. The city of Edinburgh lay before them, gray and beautiful in the sun-dappled mist.

  “Will,” Josette said in trepidation as they gazed down the last hill toward the city walls. “We can’t go to Edinburgh. That is, you can’t. Especially not you.”

  “Mmm?” Will brushed his lips to her cheek. “Why not? You’ll sleep in a softer bed tonight.”

  Josette glanced to make certain Captain Ellis, Bhreac, and Henri, who was riding better now, were out of earshot. “Because Colonel Chadwick is in Edinburgh,” she said softly to Will. “This is where he told me to bring you to him.”

  Chapter 20

  Will, to Josette’s annoyance, did not jump, exclaim, gasp, or do anything else that betrayed shock and concern. He nuzzled her neck instead.

  “I must speak to a man there,” he murmured after an exasperating pause. “I don’t have time to deal with Chadwick at the moment, so we’ll just be careful he doesn’t see us.”

  Josette turned so she could glare at him. “This is no jest. He is serious about wanting to get his hands on you.”

  Will’s absent-minded mien vanished, and he focused on her, golden eyes sharp. “I know, love. He’ll never have me, or Glenna. For now, we will slide into and out of Edinburgh like the mists that continuously coat it. What I need to do is too important to let him drive us away.”

  “You are very confident.”

  Will’s arms around her tightened. “No, lass. I’m desperate and determined. Besides, I’m cold and tired of riding around in the rain. He’ll never notice us.”

  Josette didn’t answer. Will could indeed be unrecognizable if he chose, and Colonel Chadwick had never met him that she knew of. Bhreac and Henri would most likely be strangers to him, and Captain Ellis was cavalry, not infantry, so their paths probably hadn’t crossed. But Chadwick would know her.

  “You’ll have to disguise me well.”

  “Never fear.” Will laughed softly. “I enjoy disguises.”

  “That is not something to boast of,” Josette said.

  “You enjoy them too—do not tell me you don’t.” Will kissed her hair. “Never worry. We’ll conclude our business quickly. But I will see to your colonel, love.” Steel entered his voice. “I promise you that.”

  Josette believed him. But she eyed the city in worry—she wouldn’t feel safe until the Channel and a good amount of land was between Colonel Chadwick and the ones she loved.

  It was Captain Ellis who led them into Edinburgh. Will packed away his plaid and then shrank down into a hooded cloak and muttered like an old man with a toothache.

  Will had bundled Josette into a thick shawl, pulling a battered straw hat low over her eyes and tying a threadbare cloth around it and under her chin. Josette walked with the pack horse, head down, like a servant woman following the respectable-looking British officer.

  No one challenged them, the soldiers at the old arched gate not much interested in the band of peasants with Captain Ellis. The Uprising had been put down a year ago, the unruly Scots rounded up or killed off, and business rolled on in the great city.

  Josette had been to Edinburgh only once, but had admired its tall houses and narrow streets, and the long boulevard from castle to palace, packed with people, horses, carts, and carriages. Holyrood no longer held Prince Charles Edward Stuart, the charming young man come to reclaim the throne for his father. Most of the people here, Josette noted, hurried about their business, pretending no interest in Charles, Jacobites, battles, or plaid.

  “Gone underground,” Will said into her ear. “The yearning for freedom still exists, but from back rooms and cellars.”

  Josette glanced about to get her bearings. The house Colonel Chadwick had told her to bring Will to was on th
e west end of town, near the castle and new houses built near it. Captain Ellis, following directions Will had given him, took them toward lavish abodes on the other side of the city, closer to the palace.

  They arrived at a house off a main thoroughfare, a tall and neat affair with black-painted shutters and a well-swept front step. This was not the very tall and thin house Will’s family hired for their stays in the city—Will had taken Josette there when he’d brought her to Edinburgh, when only Malcolm and Alec had been in residence. Josette remembered what a fine time they’d had, how Alec and Mal had made her feel so welcome. As she thought of that house, not many streets from here, tears touched her eyes.

  Captain Ellis rapped on the front door. A pale, dark-haired young footman, very English, answered the knock and gazed down his haughty nose at them. He showed a bit more respect at seeing Captain Ellis in his uniform, but didn’t waver.

  “I regret to say his lordship is not at home, sir.”

  His lordship, if the aristocratic-looking person were he, peered down at them from a first-floor window. When he caught Josette’s eye on him, he stepped back and vanished.

  There was a flurry behind the footman, and a retainer with white hair and more seniority pushed past him and wrenched the door wide open.

  “Forgive me, Captain. We did not recognize you. His lordship would be pleased to speak to you.”

  The footman, abashed, stood back to admit the captain. He tried to close the door on the rest of them—servants either used the staff entrance or should wait in the street—but Will ducked inside and gently moved the footman out of the way.

  “They stay with me,” Captain Ellis said.

  The butler raised white brows in disapproval, but Will ignored him. Bhreac strode in without worry, and only Henri hesitated, uneasy.

  Josette gave Henri a reassuring look and spoke quietly to the footman. “Perhaps you could take Henri below stairs and give him an ale. It’s been a thirsty journey.”