Rose In Scotland (18 page)

In answer Hugh gave him a pitying look. “You know me, Captain,” he said, folding his arms across his chest and meeting the other man’s gaze. “Do you truly think I would allow my wife to be taken while there was breath in my body?”

“Ah.” Alex nodded in understanding. “Like that, is it? They mean to kill you as well.”

Hugh also nodded. “Aye, and it pains me to admit that ’Tis a possibility that never occurred to either the general or myself. We were so set on keeping Caroline safe, we never once considered I would be at risk along with her. The earl is as thorough as he is treacherous, ’Twould seem.”

“So he is,” Alex conceded, studying Hugh thoughtfully. “I don’t suppose you could lower that Scots pride of yours enough to put a bullet through him and have done with it? You must own it would solve everything if the bastard were out of the way.”

Hugh shifted uncomfortably. He’d already considered the expediency of taking just such an
action, but it wasn’t something he was willing to do as yet. Only when he was convinced there was no other way would he kill the earl. In the meanwhile, there was another matter he needed to discuss with Dupres.

“I am glad to hear you speak of my Scots pride,” he began, straightening his shoulders with grim determination, “for there is something I wish to say to you. I know of your efforts on my family’s behalf on the day my father and brother were arrested, and I would thank you for it. I am in your debt.”

The captain raised a black eyebrow. “Are you now?” he asked, his voice clipped with ice. “That was a fine, stiff-necked speech to be sure. I don’t suppose it occurred to you that I don’t want your thanks, or that I’ve no wish for you to be in my debt?” He gave a cold smile at Hugh’s stunned expression. “No? I thought not.”

“I do not understand,” Hugh said, genuinely hurt and perplexed by Dupres’s reaction. “My family could have been killed, my home burned had it not been for you.”

“And I might have died screaming my guts out while those Indian braves took their time torturing me, had you not raided their camp to rescue me!” Alex shot back, his eyes burning with the intensity of his memories. “Do you think I’ve forgotten that? Or how you carried me on your back all those miles to the post, and nursed my wounds afterward? Do you think when I returned to England that I thought no more of the Scottish sergeant who had risked everything to save me?” He shook his head.

“When I was transferred to the border and
given the mission to clear out the clans, I nearly resigned my commission. I saw your face in the face of every man I forced to sign that damned oath, and I hated myself for it. Then one day I rode into Loch Haven, and I realized I had been given the chance at last to repay you for what you’d done.”

“Alex,” Hugh said, feeling a painful lump forming in his throat. “I do not know what to say …”

“I begged your father.” Alex continued as if Hugh hadn’t spoken. “I pleaded with him, I damned near committed treason to get him to sign that oath, but he would have none of it. And then when that idiot brother of yours opened fire upon us …”

“My sister told me what happened,” Hugh interrupted, unable to listen another moment. “She told me what Andrew had done, and how you ordered your men not to return fire. Thank you, Alex. I know you may not want the words, but thank you.”

“He looked like you,” Alex said, his lips twisting in a smile. “And sounded like you as well, when he raged at us in words too filthy to repeat. I almost thought for a minute it was you, but when his shot went wide, I knew it was not.”

“Aye.” Hugh was amazed he could laugh at the foolish thing his brother had done. “Had it been me, you would have died where you stood. I was always a better shot than Andrew.”

“I am sorry I could not prevent them from being transported.” Alex laid a hand on Hugh’s shoulder. “It was all I could do to keep them
from hanging. And I’m sorry about your cousin as well. The press-gangs took him?”

“And several other men from the village with him,” Hugh said, accepting at last that nothing could have been done to prevent what had happened. Even had he been there, the result would likely have been the same, so great was his father’s hatred for the English. It was a stunning realization, and he felt a considerable lessening of the terrible guilt he had been carrying since learning of the fate of his family.

“The general writes he is hopeful of having their sentences commuted,” Alex remarked, studying Hugh. “I hope he succeeds.”

“As do I,” Hugh said, his eyes smarting at the thought of his family. “I’ve not seen them in over fourteen years, and my heart aches from missing them. I thank God for Mairi.”

“Mairi?” Alex looked puzzled. “I thought your wife’s name was Lady Caroline?”

“And so it is. Mairi is my sister.”

“Ah, the Scottish goddess.” Alex gave a rueful laugh. “I was away from London when she stormed the post, but I heard the tale upon my return. Half the garrison was for marrying her on the spot, and the other half was ready to hang her. Quite the little termagant, from what I heard.”

“That’s Mairi.” Hugh smiled to hear his sister described as a goddess. “I almost swooned upon learning of it when I returned, but I cannot say I am surprised. Even as a child her temper was as fierce as her will.”

“I wish I might have had the pleasure of meeting her,” Alex said, chuckling softly. “Although
I doubt the sentiment would have been returned. From the tales I heard, she holds the English in as low esteem as do your father and brother.”

“You’re not her favorite people, that is certain,” Hugh agreed.

“Then one can only imagine her reaction when she heard you had taken an English bride,” Alex said, and then frowned at Hugh’s expression. “You
have
told your family you’ve married, haven’t you?” he demanded incredulously.

“Not precisely,” Hugh grumbled, feeling like a lowly private being dressed down at muster. “There was the business with Loch Haven to be seen to first, and this mess with Caroline’s uncle as well. I mean to write her and my aunt before leaving London, but there’s not been time for it as yet.”

“Then I suggest you make time for it, Sergeant Major, and at once.” Alex was staring over Hugh’s shoulder, his face setting in harsh lines. “You may be leaving London sooner than you think.”

“Why would I be doing that?” Hugh asked, turning to see whatever had caught the captain’s attention. Several men had entered the ballroom, and there was something about the tall, cadaverously thin man in the middle that looked unsettlingly familiar.

“Because the earl of Westhall just walked in, and he is heading directly toward us. Guard up, Sergeant MacColme. The enemy has been sighted.”

H
ugh had barely absorbed the shock of Alex’s pronouncement when the earl was upon them. “Good evening, gentlemen,” he said with an exaggerated bow. “Mr. MacColme, how delightful to see you again. I trust you are well?”

“Quite well, my lord,” Hugh replied, skills honed on the battlefield on full alert. He didn’t think the earl would attack him with half of society looking on, and more was the pity, as far as he was concerned. He would have derived a great deal of satisfaction in taking the limmer apart piece by bloody piece.

“But where is my dear niece?” the earl asked, glancing about him with every show of eagerness. “I am come to offer her, and you, of course, my felicitations on your marriage.”

Hugh was willing to wager his last groat the earl knew precisely where Caroline was, but before he could say as much Alex stepped in front of him.

“Lady Caroline is with the earl of Farringdale, my lord,” he said, inclining his head to Westhall respectfully. “I am sure she will be overjoyed to learn of your arrival.” He glanced next at Hugh,
his eyes sending out an urgent warning for caution. “With your permission, sir, I should be happy to fetch her.”

“That is good of you, Captain Dupres. Thank you,” Hugh said, grateful for Alex’s quickness. At least Caroline would now have some preparation, and he knew Alex would defend her with his life.

The moment Alex had gone the earl turned back to Hugh, his eyes alight with some secret delight. “It will be good to see Caroline again,” he told Hugh in languid accents. “She is such an innocent, I have been most concerned for her.”

What was this, now? Hugh wondered, hiding his trepidation behind a mask of cool control. Was the earl even now laying the groundwork to have Caroline declared mad? If so, then the situation was even more dangerous than he had feared—he would have to contact the general at once.

“Caroline is fine, my lord,” he informed the other man coldly. “You needn’t concern yourself with her.”

“But I do concern myself, you see.” The earl simpered. “What sort of uncle would I be if I did not? And this marriage of yours was held so precipitously; you cannot fault for me for wishing to assure myself all is well. If it is, then I shall say no more, and if ’Tis not …” He lifted his padded shoulders in an elegant shrug. “Then I shall have to do what must be done.”

Hugh straightened, his eyes narrowing with fury. “There is naught that is to be done,” he said, his hands clenching into fists. “We are legally wed, and that is the end of it.”

The earl cast him a look dripping with malice. “Is it?” he all but purred. “Marriages may be set aside for a variety of reasons, you know. ’Tis difficult, I grant you, but not impossible. Nothing is impossible if one is determined enough.”

Before Hugh could respond to this blatant threat, Alex returned with Caroline on his arm.

“Uncle Charles! What a pleasant surprise,” Caroline said, a smile of polite welcome pinned on her lips. “I didn’t know you were back in town.”

At first glance Hugh thought her remarkably self-possessed; then he saw the strain darkening her blue eyes, and moved forward to take her hand. Even through her gloves he could feel how cold her fingers were, and he gave them a reassuring squeeze before turning back to face the earl.

“Caroline, your uncle has come to give us his blessing,” he said, addressing his wife although his gaze never left Westhall. “It is very good of him, do you not agree?”

“Very good,” Caroline echoed dutifully, dropping a demure curtsy. “Thank you, Uncle. I am pleased to think my marriage meets with your approval.”

Little minx
, Hugh thought, delighted at the adroit way she had helped maneuver Westhall. Now there was no way the earl could repudiate their marriage without risking public scandal.

“I might have approved of it even more had I been aware it was to take place.” The earl’s stilted response made it plain he was also aware of having been manipulated. “I was remarking to Mr. MacColme that the ceremony was held
with what some unkind souls might consider undue dispatch. The old adage about marrying in haste and repenting at leisure springs to mind. And I should so hate to see you repenting, my dear,” he added, directing a knife-edged smile at Caroline.

To Hugh’s amazement Caroline slipped her hand into the crook of his arm and gave him a melting smile. “You need not worry on that score, my lord,” she said, her blue eyes lambent as she gazed adoringly up at Hugh. “How could I ever regret marrying so noble a man?”

Hugh was aware of the amused murmurs from the crowd that had gathered around them, and decided it was time to beat a strategic withdrawal. He was abruptly tired of the ridiculous charade, and he wanted to get Caroline out of there as quickly as possible. He turned to her, lifting her hand to his lips for a gentle kiss.

“Are you ready to leave now,
leannan?”
he asked softly. “I hate to rush you, but we are promised elsewhere.”

This was a bald-faced lie, of course. They had no other plans for the night, but it was the only way he could let Caroline know of his desire to be gone. As he’d hoped, she was quick to seize upon the hint.

“Very well, Hugh,” she said, tilting back her head and sending him a smile of such sweetness that he was momentarily dazzled. He took her arm to leave, only to find the way blocked by the earl.

“A moment of your time, MacColme, if you please,” Lord Westhall said, his smile not reaching his icy eyes. “I was wondering if you’d be
so good as to have a word with that relic my grandfather employs as butler. The old fool has taken it into his head that I am denied admittance to your house. Naturally you will wish to disabuse him of this absurd notion.”

Now it was Hugh who realized he had been manipulated by a master, and the realization was not to his liking. But with half of society looking on and licking their lips in anticipation of a scandal, there was naught he could do but smile stiffly.

“I shall see to it, sir,” he said, and then, unable to resist a final dig at the earl, he added, “But in Begley’s defense, I must say I cannot fault him for his caution. There have been reports in the neighborhood of several undesirable men lurking about, and as butler, it is his duty to keep such men from gaining admittance to our house. Good night, my lord.” And he led Caroline from the ballroom, feeling much like a Daniel fleeing the lion’s den.

Several hours later Caroline lay in her bed staring at the ceiling, her mind too troubled for sleep. Seeing her uncle again had shaken her more than she cared to admit, but it was Hugh’s reaction which troubled her most. She’d expected the encounter to draw them closer together, but instead he had withdrawn into himself, his manner cold and distant on the short ride home.

No, she amended, shifting onto her side with a sigh. That wasn’t quite the truth. At first he had been kindness itself to her, gentle and reassuring as he sought to assuage her fears. But beneath
the soothing words and comforting touches she had sensed his remoteness, and it made her feel even that much more alone. When he’d taken his leave less than an hour after their return home, she wasn’t surprised. She’d expected as much, just as she expected his request that she not leave the house again that night. His protectiveness was something she was beginning to accept, even if there were times she couldn’t help but resent it.

What the devil was going on? she brooded, her mind returning again to the confrontation with Uncle Charles. Beneath his brittle civility her uncle’s fury had been all too apparent, just as Hugh’s cold determination had been obvious. They might have spoken in the most cordial of terms, but she sensed there was more to their seemingly idle conversation than might first be supposed. It was as if they were speaking in a code only they could understand, and it vexed her to be excluded.