Rumors Among the Heather (10 page)

“Stop where you are,
Hamilton! I suggest you leave immediately. I don’t think you want
the whole town to know what deeds you have been about this
night.”

Geoffrey hesitated
before quickly turning and walking away, holding his jaw. Matthew
motioned to Ribble. ”Make sure he leaves the island.” He turned to
Julie and picked her up. He eased her down on a bench and left her
for a short time. He returned quickly with brandy.

“Here, drink this,” he
ordered. Julie shook her head. “Drink it on your own, or I’ll force
it down you,” he said roughly. His emotions were all tangled with
the thought she could have been hurt or violated.

She drank the brandy
without looking up. Once she drained the cup, Julie stood up so
quickly she lost her footing. Matthew scooped her up into his arms.
She leaned her head against his shoulder.

“Lord Bonnleigh,
Geoffrey Hamilton is a spy. He tried to get me to spy for him. He
knows about the prince. You must do something to stop him, or your
cause will be lost,” she whispered.

“I have known about
Dr. Hamilton for some time. That’s why I invited him. Let him make
his report. By the time it reaches London, the prince will be at
Glenfinnan, safe and with more supporters than ever,” he said with
a smile.

Matthew brought Julie
to her door and eased her down. He felt her warmth leave his arms
as she came to rest on the floor. He still held onto her fingers,
and somehow he could not will himself to let her hand drop. He
watched the candlelight dance in her thick auburn hair, and he felt
an overwhelming need to bury his face in its depths. Her beauty
almost took his breath away. She tilted her head to look up at him.
He pulled her against him again to calm the thunder in his loins
and to feel her heat. Julie started to jerk back, but Matthew
captured her lips with his. He tasted her rose-petal-soft mouth and
felt the shock throughout his body. Julie trembled as he tucked her
closer to him and wrapped his arms around her waist.

Matthew moaned, the
essence of this woman almost bringing him to his knees.

Finally he released
her lips, but they remained parted. His hands slowly slid up her
arms, over her shoulders, and into her hair. He kissed her
again—this time instead of a gentle sensation, he took what he
wanted. His need for her pressed, begged to be released. Finally he
pulled away, trying to recover but remaining a prisoner almost
powerless to resist.

His mouth dry, he
cleared his throat. “I beg your pardon, Miss Hastings. I never
meant to take advantage of you.” Without another word, he turned
and walked away.

Julie stood in the
hall unable to move. She could not ever recall feeling the strange
sensations he aroused in her this night. Her skin still tingled
from his touch. She could taste his kiss even now. His scent
lingered all around her. Slowly, she turned the handle of her door
and went inside. She changed into her night rail in a daze. She
tried to sleep, but sleep eluded her. His face flashed in front of
her every time she closed her eyes.

She listened to the
music die away, and the sounds of the party breaking up. She could
hear a snatch of laughter from some late revelers. Julie fought
with her sheets until she could stand it no longer. Her mind raced.
His kiss, his touch tormented her. They had both crossed a line
that never should have been crossed. She was determined to not let
this go any further. She must leave. There was nothing else to
do.

She lit a candle and
decided to read since sleep was impossible. She remembered last
seeing her book in the nursery sitting room. She pulled on her
wrapper and left her room for the nursery.

Holding her candle,
she began her search, but turned with a start when she caught sight
of a man’s form out of the corner of her eye. Matthew moved toward
her.

“What are you doing
up?”

“I couldn’t sleep. I’m
trying to find my book. I think I left it here this afternoon. What
are you doing here?”

“I needed to think.
This was my favorite room as a child. I always come here when I
need to sort something out,” he said simply.

“Ah, there’s my book.
I’ll just get it and leave,” Julie said, reaching for the book. She
turned to go, but his hand on her arm stopped her.

“Don’t go, Julie.”

“I must go, and I must
ask you to send for another governess. I’ve thought it over, and I
think this would be a solution to our mutual problem,” she said
with determination. A determination she did not feel, and an almost
terrifying wish he would persuade her to stay.

She stepped back and
nearly tripped on the rug. He caught her and pulled her to him.
“Don’t pretend you don’t feel what I do. The same need inside of me
is in you. It’s written in your beautiful green eyes. Give me the
right to fulfill that need.”

“You’re mistaken. I
have no such need. What happened earlier should not have. I
shouldn’t have allowed it. I was upset, but it won’t—it
can’t
happen again,” Julie said desperately. She lowered her
eyes, unable to look at him lest he see a need there to match his
own.

“When I held you, you
were willing enough. Look me in the eye and tell me I’m wrong,” he
demanded.

When she would not
look at him, he pulled her closer. With his hand under her chin, he
tilted her head until he could see her eyes. Their lips were as
close as they could be without kissing. She felt her traitorous
body becoming weak, and she fought to overcome the lethargy. She
tried to pull away, but he held her fast. He kissed her again. This
time there was no urgency. He took his time and caressed her lips
with his own. He teased her softly and seductively, until Julie
felt the smoky fires of passion kindling inside her once again.

His hand expertly
untied her wrapper and slid smoothly inside to cup her breast. Her
breast swelled in his hand, and with his thumb he began to massage
her nipple, bringing it to a taut peak.

“This is madness. We
must stop,” she said huskily.

Before she could say
more, his mouth reclaimed hers, and she ceased to struggle against
him. She knew it was wrong, and she knew she should resist, but she
could not think when he brought her to the brink of insanity. She
wanted him to touch her and never stop, always to hold her, so she
could feel his warmth and take pleasure in his scent.

He slowly edged her
toward her bedroom door, until a shrill cry cut through the quiet
of the night. The cry came from Ian’s room. The spell now broken,
Julie did not know whether to be thankful or regretful.

“My God, what was
that?”

“It’s Ian. He must be
having another nightmare. I need to go to him,” Julie said and
stumbled to Ian’s door.

She stepped inside and
quickly closed the door behind her. She leaned against it until she
found the strength to stand on her own. Matthew left her empty and
aching. She walked over to Ian’s bed. The poor mite was in a cold
sweat, thrashing about with his arms. Julie held him to her and
rocked him until he was calm again. She stayed with him until it
was light. She could not trust herself to leave the safety of his
room.

In an
attempt to prevent another uprising by the Scots,
t
he clans were forbidden to bear or train with
arms. However, they continued to train for war. They replaced the
tools of war with the trappings of the Highland games. The Highland
games were held all over Scotland and at different times during the
summer. In Gairloch, they were held the first of August.

As the day of the
Highland games drew near, Ian’s excitement increased. He was
entered in a race for the boys of his age group. He would be
running over hills, swimming across a river, and racing back to
Gairloch. He had been training with Ribble all summer. All the
clans for miles around would be participating. There would be sheep
herding, piping and drumming, racing, wrestling, clan caber toss,
and the clan’s tug-of-war. From what little Julie had been exposed
to pertaining to the Scottish culture, she knew everyone would be
wearing tartans and someone would be playing the bagpipes. The
whole village participated in decorating and getting ready for the
events.

Julie had tried her
best to avoid Matthew since the night of the party. She felt torn
between avoiding him and wanting to be near him. However, the
decision was not hers to make. Between giving Ian his lessons and
helping Mrs. Highet with preparing for the games, every hour of her
day was taken. She worked almost feverishly. Her mind was in
constant turmoil. The more Matthew intruded on her thoughts, the
harder she worked. She knew herself to be in love with him, and she
hated this weakness in herself. She’d sworn she would not entangle
her life with another man—and certainly not this man.

She would be her own
person. She believed it a weakness from within that she would even
consider trusting her future to another man. Had she not learned
her lesson with Geoffrey? Her poor Papa, God rest his soul, also
left her without a penny to fly with. She wanted to run away and
never see Matthew again, and yet she felt bound to him with
invisible bonds stronger than any chain. He forged another link
each time she saw him.

On her way to the
kitchen to find Mrs. Highet, Julie overheard the voices of Ribble
and Jarvis coming from the stairwell.

“Ribble, is there sure
to be a war?" Jarvis asked.

“Aye, he has the
support. It won’t be long now,” Ribble replied.

“What about Lord
Bonnleigh?”

“Ye know he’ll be
there. It won’t be long before Prince Charles declares his
intentions. He’s just waiting for the right time. He won’t kick his
heels in Inverness for too long before he raises the royal
standard,” Ribble said.

“Aye, it’ll be
official then. Seems everybody’s on edge just waiting for the axe
to fall. It’s no secret he come here to fight.”

“Lord Bonnleigh has
pledged his support. When Prince Charles casts the die, you can bet
his lordship and every able-bodied MacDonald will be there
surrounding him. MacDonalds don’t do half measures. They’ll fight
to the last drop of blood,” Ribble said proudly.

“I reckon you’re
right. I just wish we wasn’t going into another war,” Jarvis
responded.

Julie heard the men
move away and a door close. She sat down on the stairs, too weak to
move. She knew young men always went to war. If not for their own
country, then for another country and someone else’s cause. So many
marched off to battle; so few returned. The ones who did were
usually scarred or maimed. War was so primitive and uncivilized,
and yet each new generation felt compelled to fight with yet more
modern weapons of destruction. Perhaps it would always be the same
until the end of time.

Tears stung her eyes
at the thought of never seeing Matthew again. If he were not
killed, then possibly he would come back to her, but not to seek
marriage. She was not so naive as to believe wealthy gentlemen of
the world married penniless women. They took them as mistresses.
Love was never a prerequisite for marriage. The only reasons to
marry were for heirs, for a better social position, or for money.
Since Matthew lacked none of these things, he would probably never
marry, or if he did, it would be much later in life when men made a
last attempt to reach immortality or to prove their manhood.

Either way Julie knew
she would lose. The war would take him, or she would lose him to
some blue-blooded young girl with a fresh face and her social duty
to fulfill. In this gloomy frame of mind, she rose to her feet and
continued down the stairs to see what chores Mrs. Highet had for
her.

Shortly after noon,
Julie left Ian in the care of his riding instructor and walked a
distance down the beach to a secluded spot where she sat soaking up
the sun. Almost to the point of dozing off, she felt a shadow fall
across her. She opened her eyes to gaze at the last person she
wanted to see.

“Enjoying your break?” Matthew asked.

Julie sat up quickly. “I was,” she said
ungraciously.

Matthew sat down, and Julie immediately stood up.

“Are you afraid of me?”

“Of course not. I have something I have to do,” Julie
hedged.

“I would like to talk. Please sit down,” Matthew
requested.

“I really can’t talk
now. Please excuse me. I must hurry back to see what else Mrs.
Highet has for me to do. I didn’t realize getting ready for the
games involved so much work.”

“I think you can find
a moment to talk. We have much to discuss. There is Ian, of course,
and the weather, or we could talk about the night of the
party.”

“Ian is doing quite
well in all his studies and his riding.” Julie sat down and
remained motionless with her hands clasped in her lap.

In the awkward
silence, Matthew watched her. “Oh, it’s my turn, is it? Lovely
weather we’re having for the first of August, wouldn’t you
say?”

“Yes, very.”

“My turn again? We are
being awfully civilized about this thing, aren’t we?”

“I’m sure I don’t know
what you mean.”

“Miss Hastings, are
you going to force me to spell it out?”

“My lord, I really
must go, if you will excuse me–”

“No, I will not excuse
you until we have talked about that night.”

“Nothing happened and
nothing is going to happen. I am not a light o’ love, nor am I
easy. I have been gently born and reared. I have no wish to sit
here and discuss whatever vulgar subject you have in mind.” Julie
started to get up again, but he held her fast with his hand
securely around her wrist.

“You are a prudish
piece of work. There is nothing vulgar about wants and needs
between a man and a woman.”

Julie felt his stare
raking over her skin like coals from a furnace. He continued to
hold her fast, her spine stiffened, and she tried to make her mind
a blank. She did not want to feel his touch, to be reminded of how
his hands had caressed her skin that night. Her angst caused Julie
to speak sharply.