Harlequin Historical May 2014 - Bundle 2 of 2: Unwed and Unrepentant\Return of the Prodigal Gilvry\A Traitor's Touch (69 page)

Bile rose up in his throat, suffocating him, and he closed his eyes. She was so unselfish, so sweet. She had done that for him.

Matthew hadn't moved. In taut silence he watched Simon standing at the window, his eyes clenched shut. At length he relinquished his stance and turned and faced him.

Paralysed with a mixture of urgency and fear, he said, ‘Can I see her now?' His voice was rough with emotion.

‘Only if you promise me not to hurt her.'

‘I would kill myself before I would harm one hair on her head.'

Matthew could scarcely conceal his happy relief. His stern features softened. ‘I know that. Perhaps I should not be speaking to you like this, except that in you I seem to find a spirit kindred to mine. My life, you see, has been a somewhat solitary thing and I fear this makes me too bold. I have no right to interfere in Henrietta's life. I know that. She is in love with you. It broke her heart when she watched you ride away from her in Scotland. She tried to fight it, but it was hopeless.' He smiled, accompanying Simon to the door and opening it. ‘There are worse things than marrying a young woman who has the excellent judgement to fall in love with you—but I must warn you,' he said with humour. ‘There's a good chance she will tell you to go and jump in the river.'

Simon grinned. ‘I'm a strong swimmer.'

As he made his way to the salon where he knew he would find Henrietta, Simon's mind was preoccupied with the explanations he intended to make to her. She was angry. No doubt she wanted to get a little of her own back by pretending she didn't want him, but that was one thing that didn't concern him. They had wanted each other from the time she had thrown off her disguise and exposed herself as the beautiful woman she was. They had wanted each other every time they'd been together since then.

* * *

From the window Henrietta had seen Simon arrive and for what seemed an eternity she had existed in a state of jarring tension. Now, as she watched him enter the room and close the door behind him with an ominous thud, realising that for the first time in six months she was completely alone with him, she fought to appear completely calm, clinging to her composure as if it were a blanket she could use to insulate herself against him.

With that same natural grace that seemed so much a part of him, with a growing sense of unreality and with yards of Aubusson carpet stretching between them, she watched him start towards her with long, purposeful strides. With his clear eyes and energetic movements, he seemed to bring the whole wide world with him into the salon. He grew larger as he neared, his broad shoulders blocking her view of the room, his deep-blue eyes searching her face, his smile one of uncertainty.

‘You must have come to visit my uncle, otherwise I cannot see the purpose of your visit?'

Simon observed her pallor and the accusation and ire shooting from her lovely eyes. With one eyebrow raised and a saturnine grin, he said, ‘As a matter fact I am here to see you—although being able to reacquaint myself with Matthew is an added bonus. He's a wise man, your uncle.'

‘Yes, he is. However, I am very busy at this time—preparing to leave for Italy, you understand, so you will do me a great service if you leave.'

‘I will do anything but that.'

‘Nevertheless, considering your relationship with the woman you were with last night at the ball, to remain here with me for any given length of time would not be wise.'

Simon gave her a solemn smile. ‘Nothing we have ever done has been wise. Let's not spoil it now.'

Reluctantly she met his gaze. ‘Why?'

‘Because,' he said, smiling tenderly into her eyes, ‘I have no wish to hurt you further and I wish to apologise to you for my behaviour last night. It was unforgivably rude of me to treat you so appallingly.'

Still slightly mistrustful of his apparent change of heart, Henrietta eyed him warily. ‘Yes, it was.'

‘Am I forgiven?'

Already softening, she said, ‘It would be no less than you deserve if I don't.'

Laughing softly, Simon moved closer to her. ‘I praise God that your spirit is unharmed. Since last night I have been living with the fear that it might be.'

Tipping her head to one side, she regarded him quizzically. ‘Really? But why?'

‘Because,' he said seriously, ‘the woman I saw at the ball was not the woman I knew in Scotland, the girl I remember.'

Despite her resolution not to capitulate to his allure, a rush of warmth pervaded Henrietta's whole being, reawakening the nerve centres that had been numbed by despair. ‘Beneath the finery I am still the same woman. You will never know how I wanted you—to the last moment. And then, when I saw you with someone else at the ball, I realised it was too late.'

As quickly as Simon had come to her, he tore himself away, not looking at her, hating himself with a virulence for what he had put her through. ‘Vanessa is the daughter of a friend—she means nothing to me, Henrietta. You have to believe that. When I left you in Scotland I didn't know if I would survive—let alone see you again. I believed I had lost you for ever,' he said grimly. ‘Your heart was adamantly set against me and the cause.'

‘No, Simon—never you. The cause—yes.'

‘And I know why. I already knew about your father—but your mother? Your uncle told me about what happened to her. My God, Henrietta, why didn't you tell me?'

Henrietta paled. ‘Because I have never been able to speak of it. The tragedy was twofold and too much for me to take in—to bear. Perhaps now you can understand the depth of my abhorrence for the Jacobites. Had my father not been a Jacobite, prepared—honoured, even, to give his life for the cause, none of it would have happened. But when we parted, when I went to London, I could no longer go on running away from it—not if it meant losing you.'

‘You would do that—for me, Henrietta?'

‘I would die for you,' she whispered, her eyes holding his filled with all the love that was in her heart.

‘And I for you, my love. You knew damned well how much I loved you—and still do. If you don't believe anything else I've ever said to you, at least believe that.' He thought she might argue, but she didn't, and he realised that, despite her youth, she was very wise. ‘What of Whitegates—your home in London?'

She laughed, a light-hearted sound. ‘What of it?' She reached up and stroked his cheek. ‘Uncle Matthew will have told you that I sold it—along with every stick of furniture and carpet and useless vase. I realised that possessions are nothing more than that. When you left me my heart was broken. I had to see you again. You could not return to England, so I came to you. You—do still want me, do you not?' she whispered.

In answer he pulled her to him and held her tightly in his arms. ‘I have never stopped wanting you. I have missed you so much.'

‘I can't believe you are here,' she whispered. ‘A few hours ago everything seemed so...'

‘Empty?' he provided in his deep, compelling voice. ‘And meaningless?' he added.

She nodded. ‘And hopeless.'

‘Not any longer. I love you from the bottom of my heart. I have loved you from the beginning.'

She smiled up at him and a look showing she had never really doubted the constancy of his love glistened in her eyes. ‘And I love you—even when you berated my slovenliness as an unkempt youth. But what of Prince Charles? Will he rebel some more, do you think?'

He shook his head. ‘The rebellion failed miserably. Since then the Highland way of life—particularly the clan system—has been dismantled. Even the wearing of the tartan has been banned. The Crown policy to subdue the Highlands has been carried out regardless of the politics of individual clans—not all of whom were Jacobite sympathisers.'

‘And Barradine? Has your transfer of the title from you to your younger brother been successful?'

‘It caused some confusion in the English court, but they have accepted that the deed is legal. The fact that my uncle—whose loyalty to King George is absolute—is to administer the estate until my brother Edward comes of age, was in our favour.'

‘Is it likely that your brother is of the same persuasion as yourself?'

‘Edward is not like me. He is a serious boy who devotes himself to his studies. Unfortunately he does not possess the best of health—he has a weakness of his heart—the same weakness that our father died of shortly after Ewen was born. He will be happy to lead a quiet, orderly life back in Scotland, which will satisfy the English. Besides, it's difficult to prove a young boy to be a traitor. At ten years old, Ewen is from a different mould entirely. There is a wild impatience to my young brother's nature. With a mind and will of his own and his mind bent on a military career, it is perhaps as well he was the last born. I thank God Barradine remains in the family.'

His voice was grim. ‘I am a fugitive from the law, Henrietta, and in disgrace, with no name or land. What future could I possibly offer you? None at all. And yet anyone who says we can ever escape our destiny is a fool or a dreamer! We can never break free from the mistakes we have made. We must carry them with us for ever. Because we loved each other, we have done everything we could to bend fate to our will. We parted in Scotland and went our separate ways, but however far we've travelled fate has caught up with us. It is stronger than we are.'

‘I love you with all my heart, Simon. You know that.'

‘And it does not concern you that I cannot return to Scotland or England now?'

‘That matters little to me. I will go where you go. As long as I am by your side that is all that matters.'

‘Will you become my wife and come with me to share unknown and unforeseen adventures—and hardships, I dare say?'

Henrietta smiled up at him, loving him. ‘The choice, I think, is quite obvious.'

‘Then it is a choice we have to make together. Barred from Scotland, we will have to find a place to make a future together, either in Europe or by emigrating to America.'

‘You have strong ties with France, Simon. Besides, your mother and brothers will want to visit.'

‘I would like you to meet them before they leave for Scotland. My mother is impatient to meet the woman who has captivated my heart at last. She was beginning to despair it would ever happen. Since my father died she spends most of her time in France.'

‘She—has never considered marrying again?'

He shook his head. ‘She has been alone for a long time. It is my dearest wish that she marries again, but she has never met anyone who could live up to my father.'

‘I look forward to meeting her and your brothers, which is why I really do think we should stay here. France is closer than America.'

‘It is also teeming with Jacobites, don't forget.'

She smiled. ‘How could I? I shall be married to one. So we will live in France, in the south, I think.'

‘I would like that.'

‘They say the south is a wonderful place to live,' she murmured placidly and a flicker of the old fire shone for a moment in her green eyes. ‘And I have heard it said that in those southern parts it is never cold. I think I should like that very well.'

He gazed down at her, searching her eyes for confirmation of the truth of what he already knew yet scarcely dared to believe. ‘With no regrets?'

‘With no regrets.'

* * *

Arriving at Simon's residence in Paris where he lived with his mother and two brothers, Henrietta stood for a long moment in the doorway to the salon and observed Simon with his family. His brothers, two dark-haired, handsome youths, were laughing heartily at something amusing their elder brother had said. Then this elder brother raised his gaze to her, and she saw all the love she had ever desired within those deep-blue eyes. He came to her and took her hand to lead her to his mother.

‘Mother, I would like you to meet Henrietta.'

Lady Mary, a small, slender woman with pale blonde hair, rose and clasped her future daughter-in-law's hands. Tears filled her eyes as she drew back and smiled with satisfaction. ‘God answered my prayers and sent a beautiful young woman for my son at last. Welcome to the family, my dear.'

Simon stepped to Henrietta's side and slipped his arm about her as she smiled into his warmly glowing eyes. ‘And I have reason to be grateful to him. I could not have wished for a more worthy protector on my journey to Scotland.'

‘I suppose I was, in truth,' Simon agreed, gazing lovingly down at his soon-to-be wife. ‘Once found, I couldn't bear to think of losing you.'

‘And you must love my son very much to have given up everything to be with him.'

‘Yes, I do, but it has always been rather hard for me to tell him that.'

‘Well, you needn't worry about it any more, Henrietta. You proved your love far better with your actions.'

Taking her uncle's arm, Henrietta drew him forward. ‘Lady Mary, I would like to present my uncle, Matthew Brody. It was at my uncle's house that Simon sought shelter after he was wounded at Culloden.'

Lady Mary flicked a quick, hesitant glance upwards, but upon meeting eyes that were calm and as clear as the sky on a summer's day, she searched his lean, still-handsome visage. Interest lit and softened her eyes and she smiled sublimely, holding out her hand to him. ‘I am indeed happy to make your acquaintance, Mr Brody.'

Matthew took her hand and raised it to his lips, a merry twinkle lighting his eyes. They roamed across her delicate, refined, still-youthful features and he smiled with the same cajoling charm his niece had mastered. ‘Enchanted,
madame
.'

Lady Mary inclined her elegant head ever so slightly, but the shine in her eyes was dazzling. ‘I must thank you for the hospitality you showed Simon after Culloden. You will never know how indebted I am to you. Come, sit by me. I think you and I have much to talk about.' She gave no time for replies and took her smiling admirer gently by the arm and led him to a sofa by the window.