'Langrigg, you say?' Ross said, after a moment.
'Aye, sir. D'ye ken it? Village t'other side o' the abbey. Was ye wanting t' gang there?'
'Er...no. No, thank you. If you would simply take us to Whitemoss House, by Newton Arlosh, we should be obliged to you. And I promise it will be worth your while.'
'Thank 'ee, sir.' The man touched his greasy cap and climbed up on to the front of the cart.
Ross lifted Cassie on to the back of the cart and made them both as comfortable as he could. 'The carter offered us seats beside him, but I refused,' he whispered. 'It's less than five miles, he says, and we still have to plan what to say to your godfather. I should have thought of that before.'
Cassie thought he sounded cross with himself. No doubt he was berating himself for being carried away by passion when he should have been planning their campaign.
The cart started forward at an easy pace. The carter was singing to himself, in time with the plodding hooves.
'Now, lean against me, Cassie, and keep your head down so that no one can see your face. If anyone speaks to us as we go by, you must not look at them, or say a word. Do you understand?'
She nodded. He was right, of course, but did he have to be quite so imperious? He sounded like a sergeant-major with a raw recruit.
'We must stick as closely as possible to the truth. And you will have to do much of the telling, I'm afraid. You can say that you were coming to see him, with Morag, of course, to...er...consult him about your future. You had to come in secret because your brother was totally opposed to any such visit. Sir Angus does know about James, I suppose?'
'Yes.' As soon as the word was spoken, Cassie realised, with a guilty pang, that she sounded like a mutinous child. And she was behaving like one, too. But Ross seemed not to have noticed. He was intent on concocting their story.
'I happened to be in Annan and offered to escort you both across. Unfortunately, on the day, the crossing proved too treacherous for the carriage. Morag refused to go on foot. But you.. .er.. .you—'
'I behaved like a spoilt child and insisted,' Cassie said, with renewed spirit. This was a part she could certainly play. And now was no time to let her doubts get in the way. She pushed them aside. 'Don't worry,' she said confidently. 'Sir Angus has not seen me for years. He has no reason not to believe that of me. I'll spin him a tale about taking Shona for a chaperon and only discovering, too late, that she would not stay with us.'
'Good. Very good. And then, of course, we had to struggle ashore and were soaked in the process. You also lost your boots.'
'Did I?'
'You did. You are like a tiresome child, Cassie. And frequently stupid and headstrong.'
'Oh. Undoubtedly. And then what happened, pray?'
'We were unable to hire any horses, but managed to persuade this good carter to bring us to the edge of Sir Angus's estate. Now, just a few hours later, here we are.'
'A few hours?'
'Oh, yes, Cassie. Mark that. We crossed on this morning's low tide. Last night, you were safely tucked up in bed at Langrigg. The Scottish Langrigg.'
She had to smile then. He seemed to have thought of almost everything. Except for one thing.
She put her lips to his ear and lowered her voice even more. 'Ross, you told the carter we were man and wife. Did you plan to say the same to my godfather?'
'No, of course not. He would know it was not true. I lied to the carter—' he looked over his shoulder, but the carter was still singing lustily and seemed to be paying no attention to his passengers '—because no lady would be travelling alone with a man unless she was married to him.'
'We might have been brother and sister.'
'Do we look like brother and sister?'
It was true that they did not. Their colouring could not have been more different. 'We must just hope, then,' Cassie whispered, ignoring his question, 'that the carter does not start telling the world about the dirty tramp and his wife he carried to Newton Arlosh.'
Ross nodded. And shrugged. The damage was done.
'So, as far as my godfather is concerned, Captain Graham and Miss Elliott are...the merest acquaintances?'
'Yes. No!' He shook his head vehemently. 'No, Cassie, I do not think we could convince him of that. Let us tell him that I am a good friend of Colonel Anstruther's and that you are much in the habit of visiting the colonel's wife. We have become well acquainted during your visits there. We share a mutual interest, in.. .in—'
'Plants and gardens?'
He smiled at last. She saw the tension leave his clenched jaw. 'Aye, if you like, my dear. As long as you are sure that your godfather does not have the knowledge to test my claim. For I will soon be discovered as a fraud if he does.'
Once they had settled on their tactics, Cassie relaxed against Ross's shoulder and closed her eyes. Ross did not wonder at it. After all she had been through, her body must be exhausted.
Ross was glad of this chance to put his own thoughts in order, soothed by the rhythmic rumbling of the cart. This road, in contrast to others they had used, was remarkably free of bumps and holes. The gradual slowing of Cassie's breathing told him she was asleep. He hoped she would not wake before they reached Sir Angus's house. She needed her rest. He resisted the temptation to stroke her hair back from her forehead, lest he wake her, as he had done once before. No, let her be.
A muffled crack brought his senses to the alert. He looked cautiously all round, but could see nothing to account for the noise. Perhaps the horse had trodden on a twig? That had to be the most likely explanation. There were low hedges and dykes edging the fields, but the land was very flat, with hardly any trees to be seen. A man could hide behind the hedges, but there was not enough cover for a horse. If James Elliott was waiting hereabouts, he was on foot. That seemed highly improbable. More likely that he had given up and gone back across the Solway to join his gang of ruffians. And to think of another way of seizing Cassie.
Don't be too sure, too soon. That inner voice had saved him more than once, in Spain. He knew better than to ignore it. He continued to scan the fields carefully, looking for the slightest sign that the animals were restless or wary. A nervous sheep, or a startling bird might be the only warning he would have of an attack. Until he could deliver Cassie safely to Sir Angus at Whitemoss House, she would remain in real danger, for Ross had only his fists to defend her if it came to a fight with Elliott or his men. At Whitemoss House, he would be able to borrow a pistol. And he was sure he would be able to rely on Sir Angus's servants, too.
Provided he could rely on Sir Angus himself. What if he did not believe their cock-and-bull story? Might he refuse to offer Cassie shelter? No. Impossible. He was her godfather. And Cassie had assured Ross that her godfather knew all about James Elliott's wickedness. Sir Angus could not turn her away. The real danger was that he would see through their flimsy story and insist on knowing the truth. If that happened... Well, if that happened, Ross would simply admit that they had been together for a day and a night. And then he would formally ask for Cassie's hand. Sir Angus was sure to agree. A man of the world would bow to the inevitable.
But Cassie would be furious. With both of them.
Poor Cassie. She did not begin to understand the risks they were taking. If she knew how many times his heart had been in his mouth... He was almost sure he had managed to conceal how much he feared for her safety. She had probably concluded he was quite without feelings.
If only she knew!
The cart began to slow. 'Here y'are, sir,' said the driver over his shoulder. He nodded to a long driveway on their right, flanked by bushes and, further on, by fine trees. 'Whitemoss House. 'Bout half a mile up yonder.'
The tension in Ross's gut began to lessen. Almost there. He would soon have Cassie safe. Just another half mile along the drive to the house. Just another half mile of careful watching.
'Cassie. Cassie, my dear. We have arrived.'
She opened her eyes and blinked agai
nst the light. Then she looked round inquiringly. 'But where is the house?'
He smiled reassuringly and pointed. 'At the end of this drive. A few hundred yards more, and you will be able to rest, and have your hurts tended.' He jumped down and lifted her on to her feet. 'Wait by the bushes, my dear, while I settle our debts.' He began reaching into his pocket.
Cassie's feet had stiffened while she slept. It hurt to put one foot in front of the other. But if Ross saw that, he would insist on carrying her all the way along the drive. She could not allow that. She walked slowly across the road to the bushes by the entrance to Sir Angus's estate, forcing herself to ignore the pain as she moved. She must not allow it to show on her face. She must smile at him. After all, they had almost gained her freedom. And Ross had told her he needed her.
Yet there had been precious little sign of it since. She might have been a servant, considering the way he had been ordering her about.
The cart was moving off again. The driver was singing even louder than before. No doubt he was delighted with his unexpected windfall.
Ross came to stand beside her, watching the disappearing cart. 'Come now, Cassie,' he said with a smile. 'Just a little further and you will be safe.' He made to pick her up.
'No! It is too far. And besides, you will need your hands free. What if James should be lying in wait for us?'
He nodded, looking serious once more. 'You are right. And the sooner we are knocking on your godfather's door, the happier I shall be. Let us make a start.'
Cassie refused to let herself limp. What were a few blisters, after all? She could do this. She could.
It took longer than she expected—Ross had not told her the truth about how far it was—but at last they could see the house, a low, ivy-covered building with gleaming windows and a wide front door at the top of a flight of white steps. From where they stood, the avenue approaching the house cut through sweeping lawns bordered by magnificent lime trees.
Ross heaved a sigh of relief. "We are safe now.'
'What do you mean?'
'There is no more cover between here and the house. Your brother cannot be here.'
It was only then that Cassie understood the fears that had been driving him. Was that why he had been so sharp, so uncaring? She smiled tentatively up at him.
'And now, my dear Miss Elliott, we had better try what we can do to make you a little more presentable. If Sir Angus sees this dishevelled little hedge-bird on his doorstep, he may send for the constable.' He helped her to straighten her clothes a little. There was nothing to be done about the clumsy cloth boots. She could only hope that her skirts would hide them.
'Let me tie back your hair.' He combed it back with his fingers and plaited it roughly. Then he secured the end with yet another piece of string.
'Where did you learn to plait hair?'
'Ah, my dear, a soldier learns many skills in the course of his travels. But a lady would not wish to know how I acquired that one.' He grinned wickedly at her.
She smiled back. She could not help it. Ross—her Ross?—was now being light-hearted and teasing once more. And caring? Perhaps.
'And finally, your dirty face, m'dear. You daren't meet your godfather like that.' He took a damp handkerchief from his pocket, explaining that he had dipped it in the river for just this purpose, and proceeded to wipe the grime from her face. 'There,' he said. 'Much better. No, wait. There's a little smudge on the end of your nose.' He bent to drop a kiss on the tip of it and then stepped back, eyes dancing. 'Now you'll do.'
He offered her his arm, for all the world as if they were in a ballroom. 'Madam, will you walk?'
She dropped him a tiny curtsy and took his arm. She could not stop smiling. Not just at his teasing—though that was wonderful, and heartwarming—but at his gentle consideration for her. He must love her. Why else would he behave so?
He would say the words soon. He must do, surely?
Just as they reached the end of the drive and the grand entrance to Whitemoss House, a tiny shaft of sunlight broke through the heavy clouds. It caught the front of the house close by the door, making the white steps gleam and the window panes sparkle like gems. Ross put a hand under Cassie's elbow and ushered her up to the door. 'Look! The house is smiling a welcome to us. You will be safe now.'
Cassie felt more than a little nervous, none the less. Even with Ross's reassuring bulk at her back. She straightened her spine and glanced over her shoulder at him. He did not look totally confident either. But they had no choice now. They must go forward. She reached up for the huge brass knocker, lifted it and let it fall. The noise echoed as if the whole house behind the door were one vast hollow. And the echo went on and on.
'Chin up, Cassie,' Ross whispered.
At that very moment, the great door was opened by a very superior butler. He looked at Cassie, down a very long nose, as if she were something dropped on the doorstep by a marauding cat. 'We feed beggars at the kitchen door,' he sneered. 'The scullery maid will see to you.' He made to close the door in Cassie's face.
Cassie's nerves were drowned by a flood of indignation. She would not permit any servant to treat her so. 'We are here to see Sir Angus Fergusson,' she snapped. 'Pray tell him that Miss Cassandra Elliott, his goddaughter, has arrived, with Captain Ross Graham.'
The butler goggled. Her educated speech did not match her appearance. Not at all.
Cassie swept past him into the cool hallway. The butler was still rooted to the spot by the open door. 'Perhaps you would show us into a saloon where we may wait? I am not in the habit of being left in the hall, like a tradesman.'
That last sally did the trick. The butler bowed Ross into the house and quickly closed the door. Then he showed both of them into a book-lined library that opened off the hall. 'I will inform Sir Angus of your arrival, miss.' With a tiny bow, he scuttled out.
'Remind me never to try to get the better of you when you are acting the great lady, Cassie. Very impressive.'
Now that the initial skirmish was over, Cassie's nerves were returning, and worse than before. 'I.. .I...' she stammered. 'I suppose I have spent too long as mistress of a household. Servants have to know their place.'
'Quite. And that butler now knows his—under Miss Cassie's foot. Do you think that I, too, shall soon be under the cat's foot?'
He was trying to tease her out of her nervousness. Cassie felt a warm glow starting somewhere around her heart. He was such a thoughtful, considerate man. As a husband, would he be—?
The door was thrown open to admit a man of middle height and remarkable girth. 'Cassie? Is it really you?' He stopped in his tracks, frowning at the sight of the extraordinary pair who had invaded his library. 'Cassie?' he said again, in a voice filled with uncertainty.
Cassie ran to him and seized both his hands. 'Oh, Godfather. I am so glad to be here at last. I did not know where to turn. You were—you are my last hope.'
Sir Angus's frown cleared. 'Cassie. My dear child. What on earth has happened to you? You look like— Well, never mind that. Where is your maid? And who is this gentleman with you?'
'Godfather, may I present Captain Ross Graham, late of his Majesty's Fifty-second Regiment?' Ross bowed politely. 'Captain Graham was kind enough to escort me to you when I...' She pulled Sir Angus towards the sofa and almost pushed him into it, settling herself close by his side and tucking her hand into his. 'Oh, Godfather, I fear you will think that J have been very foolish.'
Sir Angus began to look concerned. He threw a very stern look towards Ross, as if trying to assess his part in whatever folly Cassie was guilty of.
'Please let me explain,' she gushed, allowing neither man a moment to intervene before she launched into the tale that she and Ross had prepared. 'I had to come to you, sir. James is determined to sell me to the first man who will offer enough to pay his debts. He says it is my duty to agree. And he will lock me in the asylum if I do not.'
'Good God!' Sir Angus was outraged. He had turned almost purple.
'Sell you? Impossible! You are gently born. A lady leaves her home only when she marries.'
'Oh, it is marriage he has in mind, sir. Not...er...not anything else. But he does not care who the man may be, provided he is willing to pay.'
Sir Angus's outrage was visibly lessening, if your brother is proposing an honourable alliance, with a gentleman, I do not see that you need concern yourself with the details of the marriage contract, Cassie.'
Oh, dear. Cassie quickly changed tack—and allowed herself an untruth. What choice did she have? 'My brother does not intend me to marry a gentleman. And I am sure that no gentleman would agree to James's demands. A gentleman would expect a dowry, surely, not an account for merchandise delivered? James has mentioned several possibilities, all of them in trade. One of them is rumoured to have smothered his father in order to gain control of the family shop. Oh, Godfather, I should rather go to the asylum than marry such a man!'
'You shall do neither, my dear. Marry a shopkeeper? Certainly not. The very idea! Outrageous! I would not have thought even James Elliott capable of anything so base.'
Cassie reached up to kiss his cheek. 'Thank you, dear Godfather. I was sure you would understand. But now I am here, I don't know what to do next. I am much in need of your advice. I know it will be sound, for you have always had my best interests at heart.'
Sir Angus nodded and patted her hand. 'Quite so. Quite so.'
'I'm sure you will agree that I cannot return to my brother now, not after what he has threatened to do. But, you see, I have no money of my own. And nowhere to go. What should I do, Godfather? He will he here soon, demanding that I return to Langrigg immediately.'
'No need for any hasty decisions on that score, m'dear,' Sir Angus said gruffly. 'All in good time. All in good time. You are safe here lor I he present. More to the point, though, how is it that you are travelling, unchaperoned, with a gentleman who is not related to you? It is no! at all the thing, you know, for a young lady such as yourself to—'
'Oh, that!' said Cassie dismissively. 'That was such a chapter of accidents, Godfather. I swear you will never believe what happened. It was just like a romance.'
Bride of the Solway Page 18
