The Master Of Strathburn

by Amy Rose Bennett

  Jessie had just started to count the Scottish thistle motifs in the moulded plaster ceiling to distract herself during the seemingly interminable wait, when the sudden click of a latch made her jump. Her mouth dry, her palms suddenly sweaty, she rose just as a portly gentleman attired in an elegantly coiffed wig and robes of office entered the room—it was undoubtedly the Lord Advocate himself, Robert Dundas, the fourth Lord Arniston.

  Although her legs shook, she swept into a curtsy. This man was King George’s representative in Scotland. And he held Robert’s life in his hands.

  ‘William Grant,’ Lord Arnsiton intoned in a resonating baritone as he strode towards them. ‘It’s been far too long since we’ve seen each other.’ He grasped Lord Strathburn’s hand firmly and pumped it in a hearty shake before turning his penetrating gaze to Jessie. ‘Ah, and if I’m not mistaken, you must be Lord Strathburn’s soon-to-be daughter-in-law, Miss Munroe.’

  ‘Aye … I am, milord.’ Astonished that Lord Arniston clearly knew who she was, and that she was betrothed to Robert, Jessie nevertheless managed to gather her composure and smiled when Lord Arniston bowed over her hand in greeting. But how on earth did the Lord Advocate know these things about her when they had never met or been introduced? Lord Strathburn had not mentioned her name to the Advocate’s secretary either.

  The earl looked equally confused by Lord Arniston’s uncanny intelligence. ‘Yes, this is indeed Miss Jessie Munroe. But if you don’t mind my asking, how did you know …?’

  The Advocate turned to look at his friend, keen amusement lighting his eyes. ‘Believe me, there is very little that occurs around here that escapes my attention, Strathburn.’

  Jessie’s heart leaped at the wily Lord Advocate’s next comment. ‘Now, my friend, I suppose we had better release your wayward son into your custody then, so he can settle down and wed this lass.’

  Lord Strathburn looked even more dumbfounded. ‘But I was expecting—’

  ‘To plead Robert’s case for his past transgressions against king and country?’ Lord Arniston patted his friend on the shoulder, continuing to smile, his manner jovial. ‘When I heard that Robert Grant, the Viscount Lochrose and the Master of Strathburn, the eldest son of one my oldest friends, had been installed in the Tolbooth, I arranged to have an interview with him. I’d already sighted your hand-written appeal for clemency and I must say, Lord Lochrose pled his own case very well. I was very impressed by his honesty when confessing his part in the Rebellion. It was obvious he deeply regrets his involvement and as he has now made a pledge to be a loyal subject to His Majesty the King, I see no reason to hold him to account for the rash misdeeds of a decade ago.’

  Jessie could hardly believe what the Lord Advocate was telling them. Robert was to be released. The decision had already been made to grant him clemency. His life was to be spared. A heady combination of relief and nervous excitement bubbled through her as swiftly as the swirling torrent of a Highland burn. This meant she and Robert were undoubtedly going to be married. Her gaze darted to Lord Strathburn, seeking his reaction to this astounding good news.

  There were tears in the earl’s dark blue eyes as he grasped Lord Arniston’s hand. ‘I cannot thank you enough for your tolerance and understanding, my friend. You have made an old man, who had given up hope of ever seeing his son again, so very happy.’

  Lord Arniston beamed his pleasure and summoned his secretary to bring the required custody documents for Lord Strathburn to sign immediately. They all sat in the leather chairs before the fire while the earl perused the papers.

  ‘Now Strathburn, you will see when you read this document that your son is being released into your custody, and is in fact on probation for the next year and a day,’ Lord Arniston pointed out, his tone all business. Despite his previously affable manner, Jessie could now see the authority that befit his former position of Solicitor General of Scotland and current position of Advocate.

  ‘You must ensure that Lord Lochrose remains a loyal subject to his Majesty King George and law-abiding at all times forthwith,’ he continued. ‘After the required probationary time has passed, he will be granted a full pardon by his Majesty. And I must say, the fact that Lord Lochrose will soon wed this delightful young lady goes a long way to helping his bid for freedom.’ Lord Arniston threw Jessie a benevolent smile. ‘There’s nothing like the love of a good woman to make a man settle down and reform his wild ways. I trust that you find the terms satisfactory, Strathburn.’

  ‘Indeed I do,’ Lord Strathburn smiled warmly at his friend and signed the documents.

  And as easy as that, Robert’s release was secured.

  Jessie could hardly believe it. It had all been so quick, so simple. Whilst overwhelming relief and joy that Robert was to be set free still washed through her, an underlying current of uncertainty tugged at her like an undertow. Try as she might, she couldn’t suppress the doubts that Lady Strathburn had stirred up. And if she was truly honest with herself, the same doubts had been on her mind from the very start—that Robert did not really wish to be married and was being forced into this hand-fasting—by his father and now, even the Lord Advocate.

  If only she knew how Robert really felt about her. Were there any feelings beyond physical attraction and a degree of protectiveness? Did he love her as she loved him? How would it feel to have gained your liberty, only to be trapped in an unwanted marriage?

  She didn’t want Robert to feel that way. Trapped.

  After counter-signing the release papers and stamping them with his personal seal in red wax, Lord Arniston rose from his seat and rubbed his hands together in obvious anticipation of what was to come next. ‘Now at last, the part of the afternoon I have been looking forward to the most,’ he declared and nodded at his secretary who promptly disappeared into the adjoining chamber.

  And then the door swung open to reveal Robert.

  For a moment, he simply stood in the doorway, his deep blue eyes locked with hers and his face lit by such a heart-stopping grin, Jessie’s breath caught in her chest. She rose shakily from her seat, wanting with all her heart to rush over and throw her arms about him, but conscious of the presence of others, in this most formal of places, she restrained herself.

  Instead she smoothed her skirts with her damp palms and waited, trying in vein to prevent Lady Strathburn’s poisonous observations and her own insecurities from infecting her thoughts again.

  Even so, she couldn’t entirely push away the troubling question: did Robert really want her for his wife?

  And if he didn’t want her, as much as it would disappoint Lord Strathburn, and perhaps even her own father, as much as it would pain her, she would walk away. Rather that, than stay and watch him tire of her as Lady Strathburn had predicted.

  Jessie resolved that as soon as the opportunity arose for her and Robert to be alone, she would ask him how he really felt.

  * * *

  I’m free.

  A wave of pure elation hit Robert when he laid eyes on his father and Jessie. He had his family and the life he’d longed for, for more than a decade, back in his grasp. Swallowing back a surge of tears, he strode across the room toward his father and hugged him warmly before turning to Jessie.

  My betrothed. He raked his gaze over her, taking every beloved detail of her in. For a moment he considered throwing caution to the wind; his desire to take her in his arms and kiss her thoroughly was incredibly strong. But propriety won out—he had no desire to create a scene in front of the Lord Advocate and cause embarrassment for her—so he simply caught her hand and placed a soft kiss, on her fingertips. There would be plenty of time, indeed all the time in the world, to kiss and take pleasure with his soon-to-be wife.

  When he lifted his head and met Jessie’s eyes again, he noted a fleeting look—was it diffidence or apprehension?—cross her features, before she smiled uncertainly back at him. God, he hoped she wasn’t having second thoughts about their betrothal.

  Now that he was in love with her.
r />   Love.

  He was in love with Jessie Munroe. The realisation struck him like a lightning bolt from above. Grinning like an idiot, he shook hands with Lord Arniston and exchanged the required pleasantries with the Advocate’s secretary and his father, all the while revelling in the potent joy flowing through his veins, swelling his heart.

  Jessie may be a little subdued right now, perhaps even a little unsure of him, but it wouldn’t be long before they were alone. Then he would chase all her doubts away—he had to—because gaining Jessie’s love in return was one campaign he definitely wanted to win.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The short carriage ride back to Auldgate Square was exquisite torture for Jessie. Ensconced in the far corner of the leather bench seat, opposite Lord Strathburn, she was in equal measures thrilled and dismayed to find Robert sitting close beside her. His large muscular frame seemed to fill the confined space in a most disconcerting way. She found herself blushing when she felt his muscular thigh press against her leg when the carriage rounded a sharp corner onto the Royal Mile—the contact brought to mind other lean, hard parts of Robert’s naked body and she had to fight the urge to squirm against the tight ache between her own thighs. It seemed her wanton self was back.

  Thank God, both Robert and Lord Strathburn were deeply engaged in conversation about plans for a celebratory dinner that very evening at Strathburn House, and did not seem to notice her flustered state. Heavens, she needed to grasp some semblance of control around Robert. They weren’t in an isolated cave or an inn anymore—they were in polite society. She needed to behave with decorum, especially since she was suddenly unsure of his commitment to her.

  She willed herself not to dwell on the countess’s pronouncements about Robert—the woman clearly had her own agenda and would like nothing more than to see them part ways.

  But truth to tell, Robert’s actions when he had entered the Lord Advocate’s antechamber had confused her. He had looked happy to see her, and at first she had the impression that he was going to embrace her as he had his father. But in the end, all he’d done was simply kiss her hand as any gentleman of passing acquaintance would. Whilst she could hardly have expected him to greet her with a kiss in the Lord Advocate’s office, she wondered why he hadn’t displayed a little more affection than that cool perfunctory gesture.

  Perhaps she was correct after all and he was having second thoughts. Perfectly understandable and better to know now, she told herself, trying to ignore the heavy feeling in her heart and the sudden prick of tears. She looked out the carriage window and tried to think about something, anything else.

  But that was proving to be very difficult when Jessie was acutely aware of Robert’s every movement and every glance her way. She risked her own glance at him. If only he wasn’t so handsome. That was part of the problem. Even in a crumpled shirt and mud splattered buckskin breeks, with a three-day growth of whiskers, he looked darkly attractive. Her eyes lingered on his jawline and she recalled how his bristles had felt beneath her fingers and against her cheek when he had kissed her this very morning—when he had called her ‘my love’.

  And that was the other problem—her memories of being in his arms, his caresses were all too vivid. Her eyes strayed to his lips, wide and firm, curved now in that crooked grin of his that never failed to make her breath catch.

  Dear Lord, she must speak with him. She needed to know if she really was his love, or had he just uttered the endearment in a moment of desperate passion when he believed he was going to be executed. It was too difficult to be this close to him, feeling the way she did and to not know if he really, truly felt the same way.

  ‘Jessie, we’re at Strathburn House.’ Robert’s voice broke through her musings and she started. She noticed with some surprise that Lord Strathburn had already started to climb out of the carriage with the assistance of one of the footmen.

  ‘I … ah yes … thank you,’ she murmured, finding it difficult to meet Robert’s gaze. Instead she busied herself with gathering her skirts in preparation for alighting from the carriage, hoping he wouldn’t notice how desperately edgy and self-conscious she suddenly felt.

  The sooner they spoke in private the better.

  * * *

  Robert frowned. Jessie seemed unusually quiet and distracted. Again he wondered if she was having doubts about their betrothal. Was it too confronting a reality for her now that he had been released?

  Perhaps his desire to wed her—and take her to his bed—was greater than what she felt for him. He resolved to be more careful with her, to court her as a gentleman should rather than continue to chase her like a rutting stag.

  Mindful of his new resolve, Robert gently curled his hand around Jessie’s elbow and helped her negotiate the carriage steps. He noted that she was still limping slightly but he resisted the impulse to sweep her into his arms and carry her inside. However, once they gained the entrance hall, he paused and caught one of Jessie’s hands between his. He couldn’t bear this awkward silence. Why, she wouldn’t even look at him. ‘Jessie lass,’ he prompted softly. ‘Is everything all right?’

  She lifted her chin and met his gaze with what seemed to be some effort. There were purple shadows, like bruises beneath her eyes and her smile seemed brittle. ‘Aye, milord,’ she replied, her tone too formal for his liking. ‘I am verra tired, that is all.’

  ‘I see.’ Perhaps everything that had transpired over the last few days was just catching up with her—her injuries, the long journey, the constant threat of danger. She must be exhausted. Nevertheless, Robert was still torn between the urge to kiss away her reserve and the need to take care with her. ‘I am aware that I must appear quite the ruffian at present,’ he said in a low voice meant only for her. ‘Perhaps we can agree to meet later, after you have rested and I have had a chance to tidy myself up. I think we should discuss how we are both to … proceed with this situation we find ourselves in. Do you agree?’

  Jessie nodded and, to his relief, smiled back at him. There was little chance to say more because all at once there seemed to be a swarm of people gathering in the entrance hall to greet them—his father and stepmother and a line of the Strathburn House staff.

  All, besides Lady Strathburn, were beaming with undisguised pleasure at him and Jessie. ‘My lady, it has been too long,’ Robert greeted his stepmother smoothly, briefly bowing over her extended hand. ‘You are looking well.’

  ‘As charming as ever I see,’ she replied archly, her gaze flicking past him to settle on Jessie. It was a narrow, menacing look. An intimidating look.

  Wariness pinpricked its way along Robert’s spine. What the devil was his stepmother playing at? He tried to catch Jessie’s eye, but she had cast her gaze downwards to the floor. Her hands twisted at her waist. Something was going on between the two of them, he was certain of it. And he suspected that it might have something to do with Jessie’s sudden reticence.

  He returned his attention to Lady Strathburn. ‘I trust that I may be installed in my old chambers, my lady?’

  ‘As you wish,’ she replied coolly. ‘I shall send Gordon up to make it ready for you. Although I’m afraid most of your possessions and all of your clothes were removed long ago.’ She ran her eyes over his dishevelled state of dress, her distaste openly apparent.

  ‘No matter.’ Robert turned to his father. The sight of him standing so tall, his eyes alight with pride and joy, brought a lump to Robert’s throat. ‘Father, perhaps I could presume on your generosity and borrow MacGowan and your carriage for a short while to rectify the sorry state of my appearance,’ he said in a voice thick with emotion. Although he was reluctant to leave both Jessie and his father, he had a number of matters that he needed to attend to, including visiting Leith Docks where The Phoenix was moored. Whilst there, he would be able to collect several trunks of his possessions as well as invite Drummond to tonight’s dinner.

  His father patted him on the shoulder. ‘Of course, my son. Whatever you require, it will be made s
o. I shall see you when you return.’

  Once his father and stepmother had quit the vestibule—in opposite directions to each other—and the servants had begun to disperse to attend to their various duties, Robert turned to find that Jessie had started to climb the stairs, making good on her escape—from him.

  ‘Jessie,’ he called, striding toward her. Unease twisted in his belly. He couldn’t let her go, not when there was this strange undercurrent of tension vibrating between them. He did not like this subdued version of Jessie—something was definitely wrong. The conversation he had intended to have with her later, he needed to have right now. And despite his previous resolution to play the gentleman, he was determined to take whatever measures necessary to see the spark in her eyes again. The warm spark that flared just for him.

  She halted on the bottom step and turned, one elegant hand on the newel post. He approached her slowly as he might a frightened deer, stopped before her, close, but not touching. Instead, he trapped her gaze. He could have sworn she was holding her breath.

  He began without preamble. ‘I wouldn’t believe a word that my spiteful witch of a stepmother says about anything, especially if it’s to do with us.’

  Jessie’s eyes widened and she visibly exhaled. ‘I … how did you know?’ she breathed.

  Robert’s mouth quirked slightly. ‘My stepmother is renowned for her self-serving ways, mo ghaoil. I suspect she would go to great lengths to maintain her influence, and Simon’s, in this family. And that may include trying to sabotage our union. She views us both as threats—I have returned and replaced Simon as the heir apparent and you, you will soon be Lady Lochrose and in time, the next Countess of Strathburn. I imagine she has intimated that my interest in you is passing?’

  Jessie nodded, flushing slightly. At last a reaction from her. He had been right.

  ‘Aye.’ Uncertainty clouded her usually clear brown eyes as she continued. ‘But truth be told, I couldna blame you if that was the case, Robert. It is no’ like you have been given much choice in the matter of our hand-fasting. It was, as I recall, verra much a fait accompli. Now that you have gained yer freedom and I … I am no longer in any danger—I would understand if you needed to take some time to reconsider …’