One Man's Love (23 page)

She reached out and gripped his arm. The top of her head only came to his shoulder, but she was strong enough to pull him to her. Standing on tiptoe, she fixed an irritated look on him.

“You’ll not get away again, dearest Thomas,” she said.

And to his utter and stunned delight proceeded to kiss him.

T
here was no reason to see Leitis. A warning that Alec gave himself during the next two weeks, his resolve weakening as each day passed.

He was, he thought with some amusement, no wiser than a young boy experiencing his first love, uncertain and delighted, terrified and joyous.

There wasn’t one remark she’d made or one laugh she’d uttered that he didn’t recall with perfect clarity. And every moment of those times they’d loved lingered in his mind in the moments before sleep, before waking, and the seconds between each task and each duty.

He had marked her, the memory of the discovery vivid and fresh in his mind. She’d sat wrapped in her cocoon of coverlet and he’d touched her with a deli
cate stroke of his finger. The look on her face, startled and reproving, was a caution to him as strong as words. It was all too evident that she might love the Raven, but she still hated the Butcher.

And it was just as clear that she was refusing to accept his identity. The clues were there, but his masquerade functioned only because she wished it to remain in place. The denial was a bulwark against a greater truth—that he was English and a soldier and a man rumored to be a monster.

For the most part, he was able to occupy himself with those mundane and necessary tasks that fell to the colonel of the regiment. He inspected Lieutenant Castleton’s alterations in the stores and approved the changes, sent Captains Wilmot and Monroe out on patrol if, for no other reason than to give them experience in command.

Today he’d had the task of a tribunal, adjudicating those offenses that required his attention.

“Have you anything to say for yourself?” he asked the two men who stood before the table.

“No, sir,” the first one said.

“I wouldn’t have struck him with the bottle, sir, if he’d not said something about my Sally,” the second one responded.

“It’s a good thing you chose not to demonstrate your irritation on duty,” Alec said sternly. “The punishment for such a lapse is flogging.”

Both men looked suitably chastised, even more so at the amount of the fine he levied on them.

A second miscreant had been discovered cheating at dice. Honor was important in a military institution. Even more important was the fact that a man’s companions needed to trust him. In battle, teamwork was not only necessary, it might mean survival.

“Is this accusation correct?” he asked the man. To his credit, the soldier did not deny it.

“You’ll surrender your next month’s wages to your companions in the game,” he said. “In addition, your ration of rum is forfeited for that time.”

A lesson the man was sure to remember the next time he was tempted to cheat. Military discipline was not an assumption; it was a requirement.

An irony, that the man who levied punishment on these men was guilty of more heinous crimes.

Harrison entered the room at that moment, his hands wrapped around a parcel. Alec listened with half an ear to other infractions, impatient to speak with his adjutant. The journey had been accomplished faster than he’d expected, but there was a look on Harrison’s face that concerned him.

Alec rendered judgment and stood, signaling an end to the tribunal. He strode through the officers and men to where Harrison stood.

“Walk with me,” he said.

Harrison nodded, followed him out of Fort William, around the courtyard, and into the open space between the fortress and the ruins of Gilmuir. A place where they were certain not to be overheard. Especially by Lieutenant Armstrong, whose endless toadying concealed too intrusive a nature.

Glancing toward the old building had become second nature to him these past days, especially his study of the abutment that housed the laird’s chamber. Did Leitis spend the time weaving? An occupation not dissimilar to his duties, in that it kept the hands occupied while the mind roamed free.

He wanted to be with her, either as Ian or the colonel. And if that were not enough a clue to his insanity, he wanted to confess all his sins to her. Have her look at him in that cool, measured way of hers. Even her disapproval was preferable to her absence.

“The ship is here, sir,” Harrison said in the silence.

Alec glanced at him, surprised. “So soon?”

“The bonus I promised the captain was an inducement to his haste,” Harrison said, his face somber. He handed him the parcel in his hands. “I hope you approve, sir. Alison had it made by her dressmaker.” Harrison had only been gone a week.

Alec smiled. “So you did see her?”

Harrison nodded, then grinned. “I did. I need to talk to you about that. But first there’s a small difficulty, Colonel. The captain refuses to travel through the rocks without a pilot.”

“I’m the only one who’s made the journey, Harrison,” Alec said.

The other man nodded.

“We have time enough before dark,” Alec said, scanning the sky. “If Armstrong asks, make the story you tell him plausible. I agree with your assessment. The man is forever watching me.”

“He’s too loyal to Sedgewick,” Harrison said roughly.

Alec smiled. “However inconvenient that is, I cannot fault the man for it. Loyalty is what has kept me alive.”

Ardersier was a barren promontory that reminded Matthew Sedgewick of Gilmuir. The land jutted out into the Moray Firth, and was overshadowed by hills a short distance away. The lie of the land here provided for both sea and landward defenses, similar to the location on which he’d built Fort William.

The proposed new fort was in Sedgewick’s patrol area, almost an omen for this errand since he’d discovered that General Wescott was in attendance, overseeing the architect’s work.

He’d never visited Fort William before, but then that structure was dwarfed beneath the proposed fortification that would employ over nine hundred men in its construction. Sedgewick glanced down at the plans in front of him, amazed at the size of Fort George.

The general would be covered in glory for this task while his own efforts had never been remarked upon, nor rewarded. He had built Fort William in less than a year, using the talent of only one architect and a handful of men with building skills. In the main the fortress had been constructed with inexperienced troops. But not one person had commended him on his accomplishment. Instead, the army had turned Fort William over to Colonel Landers.

The general’s temporary quarters were not sumptuous, but neither were they ascetic. The room boasted two windows, one facing the firth and the other the landward side. The large bed pushed against the wall looked too substantial to be a campaigner’s. Sedgewick doubted if it disassembled quickly for ease of transport. Nor did the other furniture in the room have the look of having been carried in a wagon from post to post.

Stalks of heather were arranged in a tall blue vase on the bureau, and stretched across a chair was a length of plaid, one patterned in blocks of blue and green.

It appeared as if the general had gone native.

“I was informed that this visit was of an urgent nature, Major Sedgewick,” the general said, entering the room.

Sedgewick spun around, facing the general and standing at attention. Wescott was an older man, but
one with a robust physique. His hair had whitened, but only at the temples, the rest of it thickly brown and tied at the back of his neck. His face was cleanshaven, his hazel eyes deeply wrinkled at their corners.

“State your business, Major Sedgewick, but most importantly why you felt it necessary to jump the chain of command so summarily.” Wescott sat behind his desk frowning up at him.

“I have reason to believe, sir, that Colonel Landers might be harboring a traitor.”

“That is quite a charge you are leveling against your commanding officer, Sedgewick.” General Wescott sat back in his chair, steepled his fingers, and studied him intently. His expression was dispassionate, but his eyes held irritation. Moments passed, each one measured by the icy shivers down Sedgewick’s back.

“I understand that, sir,” he said finally. “But I feel very strongly that Colonel Landers’s actions should be investigated further.”

He bent forward and placed Armstrong’s journal on the general’s desk.

“I took the precaution, sir, of leaving a trusted man with the colonel and asking him to impart to me anything of a suspicious nature.”

“Why would you do that, Major?” Wescott asked.

“On the first day of his command, sir,” Sedgewick said stiffly, “Colonel Landers showed his partiality to the Scots. He interrupted my efforts to find a piper in the area, a man known for flaunting both the Dress and Disarming Acts.”

“Go on,” Wescott said slowly.

Sedgewick pushed the journal across the desk before resuming his stance. “I believe, sir, that Lieu
tenant Armstrong’s notations might be of interest to you.”

General Wescott motioned for him to continue.

“There are rumors throughout the glen, sir, of a man calling himself the Raven. He has stolen from our troops in order to supply the Scots and acted in a way that can only be called rebellious. Colonel Landers has made no attempt to capture this man.”

“Is this all your information?” Wescott asked sharply.

“No, sir,” Sedgewick said. “He’s taken a Scots woman as his whore and treats her very well, according to my sources.”

“Have you ever seen combat on a foreign shore, Major Sedgewick?” Wescott asked. He tapped his fingers on the surface of his desk, his gaze fixed purposely on him.

“I have not had that privilege, sir,” he answered.

“Then you will understand when you do…if you do…that soldiers take comfort where they can find it. I cannot fault the colonel for that sin.” A moment later, he continued, “Cumberland himself has taken an interest in Colonel Landers, Major. You’ve not chosen your target wisely. Did you know that Landers is the heir to an earldom?”

Sedgewick shook his head. “No, sir, I didn’t.”

“I suggest, Major,” General Wescott said sternly, “that you investigate a little further before you are so quick to accuse. You have an exemplary record, and I would hate to see it tarnished because of your envy.”

Wescott stood. “However, because there are certain aspects to your report that I find troubling, my men and I will accompany you back to Fort William. But only to investigate your claims.”

Major Sedgewick nodded, pleased. It was exactly what he’d wanted.

Alec dismounted, studied the left rear hoof of his horse and swore softly. The stallion was one of his favorites, even though he’d vowed not to become attached to the horses that served him. He’d lost too many animals in battle to deliberately establish a bond, which is why he never named his mounts.

It was all too clear, however, that this animal was lame. Alec stared ahead, knowing from his previous patrols that the lake was not far.

“A foolish idea to delay. Don’t you think?” he asked his horse.

The stallion tossed his head as if amused.

“You’ll have to take him back to the fort,” Alec said, turning to Harrison.

“Why not take my horse, sir?”

“Because it would hardly be fair to make you walk all the way back to Fort William, Harrison. And I cannot postpone moving the ship into the cove until tomorrow.”

“Are you certain, sir?” Harrison asked, his face creased with worry.

Alec nodded, smiling. “Emphatically so, Harrison.” Once the ship was in the cove he would simply use the secret staircase to return to Fort William.

Harrison said nothing further as Alec turned and began walking toward Loch Euliss.

When her shoulders began to ache, Leitis halted her work on the tartan, stood, and stretched.

She straightened the room, although it had not been mussed, and settled the chairs around the table differently. She trimmed the wicks of the candles, then counted the floorboards, amusing herself with the silliness of that occupation.

The MacRae plaid, as difficult as it was, had cap
tured her attention these last few days. She’d vowed not to think of the colonel or Ian, or the impending departure from Gilmuir. But when she wasn’t working, her mind flooded with thoughts and questions.

Was she as guilty as Cumberland of undiscerning hatred? She wished to be nothing like the duke, but to accomplish that, she would have to show compassion, pity, and kindness. She had grudgingly become fond of Donald, but had no other contact with the soldiers. Except the colonel.

Had she wronged him? It felt, somehow, as if she had. That look he’d given her the last time she’d seen him reflected a strange disappointment, as if he’d expected more of her.

He’d killed her countrymen.

And saved a village.

He’d promised he would not seek out Hamish.

And kept that vow.

The knock of the door was a welcome reprieve from her thoughts. She opened it to find Donald standing there, his arms filled with a package wrapped in paper and string.

“I’ve a present for you, miss,” he said, smiling. “From the colonel. He thought as how you might like another dress to wear.”

She could only stare at Donald, taking the package from him in a daze. He walked away, whistling.

The colonel had given her a dress.

Placing the parcel on the table, she untied the string carefully, parted the paper. Inside was a soft blue garment, the bodice adorned with embroidered flowers in shades of yellow.

She’d never seen anything so lovely.

Closing the door, she removed her dress and replaced it with the colonel’s gift. It fit almost perfectly,
being only a little loose in the waist. She twirled, watching as the skirt billowed up around her.

A few weeks ago she would have returned the gift. Today, however, she was more practical than prideful.

He’d given her a dress. Smiling, she shook her head. Once again he had confused her.

Leaving the door open behind her, she walked into the courtyard, staring up at the sky. The afternoon was waning, the blue sky darkening in slow degrees.

She wrapped her arms around her waist, staring out at the land encircling Gilmuir. A faint blue mist hung over the landscape, darkening the green grass of the glen and making the mountain crags appear veiled.