Rumors Among the Heather (18 page)

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Authors: Amanda Balfour

Tags: #romance, #Historical, #Scotland, #scottish, #highlander, #Medieval, #terry spear, #amanda balfour

BOOK: Rumors Among the Heather
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She reached out her
hand and knocked on the door with a timid tap. She took a deep
breath and knocked a second time with force. A servant opened the
door and discreetly disappeared. Julie entered and looked around
for Geoffrey.

A heartbeat later he
stood across the room from her. At first he remained motionless
before swaggering toward her. He stopped behind Julie and put his
hands possessively on her shoulders, then he removed her cloak. The
hot touch of his doughy fingers made her cringe inwardly, but
outwardly she strived for calm. She managed to smile as his gaze
raked over her form.

Julie would have to be
blind to miss the look of lust in his eyes. For a moment, she
thought he would attack her where she stood.

She tried to take a
step backward. Geoffrey brought her hand to his lips. His hot, damp
kiss seemed to eat away at Julie’s skin before she could discreetly
wipe it clean.

“I always find you
hard to resist, but never have I seen you look as beautiful or more
desirable than tonight. You seem to glow. The flush on your face
makes the green in your eyes sparkle,” Geoffrey said as his gaze
left her eyes and traveled down to her breasts. “You seem more
alluring than ever.”

Watching Geoffrey
closely, Julie wondered at his lack of guile in his lust for her.
His undisguised desire did him no credit in her eyes. He made her
think of a spoiled child, and she wondered again how she had been
so blind to his true nature.

“Welcome to my
quarters. If this were London, I would have entertained you in the
finest suite available, but this is all I could glean from this
poor country.”

To emphasize his
point, he waved his hand around the room, which emphasized his fine
linen and lace and embroidered jacket to the best advantage. The
quality of his outfit could not be denied, but it had been designed
for a much trimmer figure than Geoffrey’s. His days of easy living
had thickened his once trim physique. He gave the impression of
trying to stuff ten pounds into a five-pound sack. It would have
been laughable if the situation were not so serious.

This peacock has
grown puffed with his own importance and magnificence. He needs his
wings cropped. Dear God, give me the courage and the shears!

Julie started to turn
and move toward the dining table when she felt Geoffrey’s hand on
her arm. He raised his other hand up to stroke her face, and he let
it trail down her neck and come to rest just above her breast.
Julie reached up, took his hand, and held it against her cheek. She
pretended to enjoy his touch. Her mind worked feverishly, trying to
think of the best way to avoid his advances and still keep him
interested.

He put his arm around
her waist and drew her to him. She felt his hot breath on her skin
while he held her tightly against him. His desire boldly pressed
against her thigh.

“All in good time,
Geoffrey. Please, let’s not move too fast. Patience is something I
do not lack. Some things should not be hurried. Some things are
much better…ah…slower, don’t you agree? We have the whole night,”
she said anxiously. She gave his hand a pat and stepped aside.

He pulled her to him
again and kissed her roughly on the mouth as he took liberties with
his hands. He finally released her with a laugh. Julie resisted the
strong urge to wipe her mouth. Instead, she merely stepped back,
took his hand in hers, and drew him over to the table. This
delaying tactic helped her fight her rising panic.

“It would be a shame
to let this delicious meal go to waste, and this bottle of wine
taken from Lord Bonnleigh’s own wine cellar.” She took the bottle
from her box and held it out to him. Geoffrey despised Matthew, and
Julie hoped he would jump quickly at the bait. “Besides, you might
need your strength for later,” she said with a knowing look at
Geoffrey.

Geoffrey threw back
his head and laughed greedily. “Upon my soul, Julie, you always
were a tease, but there’s something different about you. I like the
new you. You’re more to my style. A woman after my own heart, it
seems. By all means, let’s eat. I intend to sample all the
pleasures this night holds.”

Julie’s stomach roiled
looking at the first course of oysters on the half shell. Although
she lacked an appetite, Geoffrey ate each with slurping relish, and
as he did, he looked at Julie with unabashed lust. The more he
drank and ate, the more his bold gaze assaulted her. “Don Juan is
said to have used oysters as an aphrodisiac. Tonight won’t be much
of a test, eh?” he said with a wink. He reached under the table and
grabbed for her knee. He began to squeeze it with a pumping motion,
all the time leering at her. Julie called up all the inner strength
she possessed to smile back at him and pretend to enjoy his clumsy
advances.

Somehow she managed to
get through the rest of the dinner. Each time she offered him the
bottle she had brought, he set it aside and drank deeply from his
own personal bottle. He finished off two bottles and did not seem
anywhere near to becoming drunk or wanting to open her offering.
Julie watched him in awe and growing dread.

He must have the
constitution of an ox. Surely he’ll pass out before long, and I
won’t even have to give him my bottle.
Geoffrey held his glass
up to the candlelight and watched as the light played through the
crimson liquid. “You know, I’ve found I like the taste of wine. I
never used to. Now, I find it strange to think of dining without a
superb glass of the fruit of the vine. Mother never permitted a
bottle of any kind of spirits in the house. She was so afraid we’d
all become drunkards,” he said. He downed the last drop of wine and
reached for the only remaining bottle.

His grip was none too
steady as he tried to open the wine, and his words were beginning
to slur. She finally took the bottle from him and opened it
herself. He took one drink and then another until he finished the
first glass and poured himself a second. Julie could not believe
her eyes. The laudanum was not working. The man had drunk enough to
float a frigate, but he was not passing out. She had no idea what
she could do short of hitting him over the head. She looked around
for a blunt instrument just in case.

He reached out his
hand and took Julie’s in his sweaty palm. He motioned with his head
toward the bed, while beads of perspiration trickled down his face.
He stood up, forcing Julie to her feet. Reluctantly, she started to
walk with him. Her mind raced, but she had no idea what she should
do next. They were no more than a foot from the bed when Geoffrey
obligingly pitched forward onto the bed and passed out.

Julie turned him over
on his side and searched through his pockets and around his neck,
but she could not find the key. In a panic, she ripped the buttons
from his shirt as she stripped him, but he was not wearing the
key.

Her breath erupted in
short gasps and her palms grew wet. She scanned the room, trying to
find a logical hiding place. Her eyes came to rest on the small
music box she had given him the last Christmas before he married.
She rushed over to the box and lifted the lid with trembling hands.
Strains of music broke the tense silence when she looked inside.
She heaved a sigh of relief when her fingers closed around a key.
She prayed it would lead to Matthew’s freedom, but with no other
key to be found, Julie rushed to the window and tossed the key and
the drugged bottle of wine to Ribble, who waited two stories below
in a clump of bushes. She watched him move agilely away from the
building and back onto the walkway. He adopted the manner of a
drunken fisherman and staggered past the two guards on his way to
the beach.

The moon disappeared
behind the cloud cover. Ribble and Ian would have to climb in
almost complete darkness. The climb was hard enough to make in
daylight, but without light…

Julie paced the floor.
Trying to keep her head, she reached into her bandbox and replaced
the bottle she’d tossed to Ribble with another half-empty bottle of
wine. If Geoffrey checked, he could not prove the wine had been
drugged.

She finished
undressing him and put him under the covers. Carefully, she
disturbed the covers to give the appearance she had been in the bed
with him. She knew as soon as Matthew’s escape became known she
would be in danger if Geoffrey connected her as part of the plan.
Even if he suspected her, she hoped he would be reluctant to admit
he had been duped. If she could convince him her being there and
Matthew’s escape were coincidental, he might just forget her
presence when he sounded the alarm.

She tore a piece of
her chemise and unclenched Geoffrey’s fist long enough to leave it
in his hand. As his hand closed around the piece of cloth, he began
to snore. Julie pricked her finger and left some blood on his
sheets. She left one of her hairpins in between the folds of the
sheet. The little telltale things must be discreet, and not look
like they were planted. She only prayed he would not remember much
of anything except leading her to the bed, and then his inflated
ego would take over from there.

* * *

“Uncle Matthew, wake
up. Uncle Matthew.”

Matthew did not stir.
He thought he heard Ian’s voice, but he knew it could not possibly
be him. He had to be dreaming.

The door of the cell
squeaked open.

He turned with a jerk
and opened his eyes as far as the swelling would allow. He came off
the floor with his fists clenched.

“What the—”

“Shh, Uncle Matthew.
It’s me, Ian. We’ve come to get you.”

Matthew could not
believe his eyes and ears. He thought he must be hallucinating. He
walked over and put his hand on the boy. Then they both stepped
into the hallway, where he peered through the small window in the
door and looked out at the guards.

“This is foolhardy!
Have you thought this through? How are we going to get past the
guards?”

“Ribble said to wait
here until he can get back down the cliff. Don’t move and I’ll be
right back,” Ian said over his shoulder.

He went over to the
window and crawled half way through it. He tiptoed back over to
where Matthew kept watch by the door. “Ribble and Miss Ha…er…a
friend planned everything. His friend took the key from Dr.
Hamilton to give to Ribble. He brought me up the cliff on his back,
and now he’s taking the key back. When we hear a lot of noise, and
the guards are distracted, we’re supposed to go down the stairs and
over the side on the last landing. If we can make it to the beach,
there’s a boat waiting. Ribble said to go to the old smugglers cave
on the windward side of our island, and he would join us as soon as
he can,” Ian finished, out of breath.

* * *

Julie took the key
from Ribble and replaced it in the music box and rewound it.
Gathering up her bandbox, she slipped noiselessly out the door. The
cool night air seemed to revive her. She hurried down the steps and
out onto the walkway. She took only a few steps before Ribble came
up behind her.

He grabbed her from
behind and held on. Julie screamed, but no one came. She screamed
again but still no one came. She looked at Ribble, but he only
shrugged.

Julie whispered, “Tell
Ian I’m sorry.”

She opened her cloak
and tied it loosely, and reluctantly she tore her dress to reveal
more of her breast. She rubbed dirt on her cheek and ran over to
where the guards stood.

Julie fell onto one of
the men and cried out in anguish, “Help me! Lord, help me! Somebody
do something! He tried to kill me,” she cried convincingly and
pointed in Ribble’s direction.

The first guard
motioned for the second one to investigate. She kept her head down
and covered by her hood. Carefully, she also kept out of the light
of the fire so neither guard could get a good look at her face. Her
efforts were not really necessary as neither guard’s eyes rose
higher than her breasts.

Julie clung to the
first guard desperately. Momentarily distracted, he did not notice
Matthew and Ian moving quietly down the steps and slipping
away.

The second guard
returned with Ribble in tow. “Here’s the bloody bugger. I chased
him halfway through the town afore I caught his worthless carcass.
What’ll we do with him?”

Before the first guard
could reply, Julie rushed over to where Ribble stood and put her
arms around him. “They dinnae hurt thee, luv? Gawd, ye’ve skinned
yer nib!”

She put her hands on
her hips and turned to face the guards but still kept her face
hidden by her hood. Her lips formed a pout. “I just wanted ye to
scare him, not run him ta ground. Ye see, when he’s in his cups, he
tries to beat me, but by morning he’s always sorry, ain’t ye, luv?
Come along, dearie, I’ll put ye ta bed and ye’ll feel so much
better on the morrow,” Julie said.

She took Ribble by the
arm and led him away. They left the two guards shaking their heads
with their mouths open.

“Did you see that old
bugger, and did you see what he had on his arm? How can an old man
like that have the likes of her to warm his bed when we’ve been out
all night freezing? I tell you, lad, it’s just not fair. What an
unlikely pair. Wonder what they was doing out at this time of the
night. Oh well, some has it all, eh?” Both guards laughed.

Out of sight of the
guards, Julie and Ribble ran until they were out of breath. They
stopped in an alley on the far side of town.

“We did it, Ribble!
We’re alive and Matthew’s free. However, we must part, my friend,”
Julie said. Her voice cracked, and her eyes misted. She reached up
to give him a hug. “I shall miss you.”

“Aye, we did it fer
sure, but let me get ye back over to the island. I can hide ye as
long as need be. Those guards never will recognize a scruffy drunk
with a patch over his eye. I look nothing like a well-kept
gentleman’s valet. I can come and go. Let me look out for you.”

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