The Heart Queen (42 page)

As he climbed up into the Highlands, he felt more alive than at any other time in his life. The grass was greener, the sun brighter, the air fresher. If he could not have Janet, at least she had given him something he had never had before. He had known love.

He had wanted to improve his properties, and the lot of people on those properties, but there had been a distance between them and him. He had eyed it as an intellectual problem. It was part of the wall he had built around himself.

But since he’d been with Janet, watched her gentle ways with her children and with servants, and watched them bloom under that care, he knew he would never see people as an intellectual problem again.

He slept briefly when clouds cloaked the moon and he could no longer ride safely. But it was a restless sleep, plagued by images, by the many things he must do, and do right unless lives were to be lost. It was a burden he had not wanted, and yet...

He was riding again at daybreak, and reached Alex’s lair by noon. He whistled as he drew near, then waited. He whistled again, and in minutes he heard an answer. He dismounted and led his weary mount.

Alex and one of the young lads met him.

“Braemoor?” Alex acknowledged.

“I have some news,” Neil said.

Alex turned to the boy, a gangly youth of approximately thirteen years. “Go inside and tell the others it is a friend.”

Friend
. The word sounded very good to Neil. Now that he thought about it, he had never had one. That was a sad admission for anyone.

When the lad disappeared through the trees, Alex turned to him, questions in his eyes.

Neil did not know how to be indirect or to soften the blow. “The Campbell family has gone to Cumberland with accusations that Janet murdered her husband. His Grace did not say whether he believed them or not but I suspect he is under pressure by the Campbell family.” He paused, then added, “Reginald is from one of the lesser branches of the family, but he can still call on them.”

Alex’s lips tightened in a grim line. “I will kill Campbell.”

“That would not help Janet. It would only convince Cumberland that Reginald was right.”

Fury clouded Alex’s eyes.

“There
is
something you can do.”

Alex raised an eyebrow in question.

“You can become the Black Knave.”

“
You
said he was dead.”

“I want to resurrect him.”

“Why?”

“I told Cumberland I was wounded by the Black Knave, that I was sure that there was a connection to Reginald. He will have patrols east of here. I told him that was where I was attacked.”

“Go on,” Alex said, an edge in his voice.

“The Black Knave must strike near Lochaene. He must steal. He must leave cards. He must somehow drop Reginald’s name.”

“I do not look anything like Reginald.”

“It doesna matter. The Black Knave takes many different forms. There have been so many differing descriptions, I am sure Cumberland believes he has associates. The goal is to throw so much suspicion on Reginald that any charges he might make would never be considered.”

“He’s a Campbell. No one would suspect him of being the Knave.”

Neil hesitated. This was not his secret to tell. Rory had staged his own death to protect Braemoor. But Neil expected Alex to trust him, so he would have to trust Alex in return. He’d never done that before. Just as he’d never had a friend. The knowledge felt like a damnation.

“Neither did anyone suspect Forbes of being the Knave,” Neil said.

Alex’s brows arched upward. “You said ...”

“I did not lie. I said I was not the Knave. My cousin was.”

Alex’s brows knitted together. “I heard of him, even met him once. He was a fool.”

“Was he?” Neil asked. “I thought so, too. I had nothing but contempt for him. I thought he had run from Culloden because he was a coward. He turned out to be the bravest man I’ve ever known.”

Alex’s gaze locked on his. “Where is he now?”

“Safe somewhere. I do not know where. I only know he went to great effort to make everyone believe he was killed by the Knave. He wanted to protect the people at Braemoor.” He hesitated, then added, “You are the only man in Scotland other than myself who now knows.”

Alex nodded his understanding.

“I also know a French ship is smuggling brandy to the coast. It should be there this week. I plan to meet the captain and try to make arrangements for your passage. You will have only three or four weeks to bring the Knave back to life.”

Alex shook his head. “You do not waste time.”

“I never saw a reason to do so,” Neil said. “Every moment you stay in Scotland you are a threat to Janet.”

“Why do you care so much?” Alex asked.

Neil drew in a deep breath. “I... admire her.”

“Is that all?”

“That is all there ever can be,” he said with as much finality as he could put into his voice.

Alex studied him for a long moment.

“There is something else,” Neil said. “Janet knows you are alive.”

Dark blue eyes so like Janet’s glared at him. “You gave me your promise.”

Neil nodded. “Aye, I did. And I meant to keep it. But I told her I knew someone who needed to flee Scotland and might be able to imitate the Knave. She asked your name. I could not lie about something that important to her.” He hesitated, then continued. “She has children. She would do nothing to endanger them, not even to see you. But she told me to tell you she loves you. You canna know the joy the news gave her.”

Alex’s hard face softened. “I have missed her. It was hell realizing she did not know. But I truly thought it better for her not to know until I escaped Scotland.”

Neil did not reply. Alex had not seen his sister in several years, had not seen his sister since she’d become a mother. She had a mother lion’s protectiveness of her children.

“I am going to do my best to see that you meet before you leave,” he said.

Alex’s lips bent into a half smile. Because of the scar it would always be a half smile. “I knew there was a reason I did not let Burke kill you. I had this strange feeling that I should not. If I was Irish, I would say it was the faeries.”

“Then you will be the Knave?”

“With pleasure, my lord.”

“Where is Burke?”

“Getting supplies, thanks to you.”

“I asked you before whether or no‘ you could trust him.”

“Aye, and my answer is the same. But I will not tell him about your cousin.”

“Send him to Braemoor. There are some items there that you might be able to use. Janet can show him where they are. And you might well use a mask.”

“I would like to go myself.”

“ ‘Tis too dangerous for both of you,” Neil replied. “If you were caught anywhere around Braemoor she would be the one to pay. And the children. Reginald would most certainly have her tried.”

A visible shudder ran through Alex’s body. “That bastard.”

“He will pay,” Neil said. “In a way he will not expect.”

Alex stared at him for a moment. “You fought at Culloden?”

“Aye. With Cumberland,” Neil said evenly.

“And you saw the error of your ways?”

“I ran into the Leslies,” Neil said simply.

Alex held out his hand. “I thank you for everything you are doing.”

Neil extended his hand while discomfort roiled around inside him. He did not want thanks. He did not even want to be here. He was a fraud. One that was stumbling around with little idea of whether anything was going to succeed. He might well be readying the hangman’s noose for them all.

But Alex’s grip was strong and he found himself returning it, their eyes meeting.

Neil released it. “Do you have some food for both myself and the horse? And I need a few hours’ sleep. Then I am bound for the coast.”

“Aye,” Alex said and led Neil inside the cave. It was dark and damp, but a small smoky fire burned toward the back. Although Neil had been in the cave briefly on his last visit, the children had melted into its back recesses, and he had really seen very little of them. Now they seemed assured that he was, indeed, a friend.

Still, too-large eyes in too-small faces regarded him warily. Only God knew what had happened to them in the year since Culloden. He remembered the young lass who had washed his face on his first visit here. And the oldest lad. He must be the one wanted by Cumberland. The others ranged in age from eight to about thirteen.

He was given a bowl of oatmeal, several hard biscuits and a cup of bad ale.

“We have no meat,” Alex said.

“I do not need it,” Neil said.

The wee lass who had tried so solemnly to nurse him weeks ago came over to him. “Alex said you were going to help us.” Her lips quivered.

“I hope so,” he said. “What is your name, lass?”

“Sophie McSparren,” she said.

He wanted to ask what had happened to her family, but that was not a question one asked these days. Not of a child.

The child sat next to him but she said nothing else. She just watched him as if judging. He wanted to reach out and hug her. He had no right. He might well have killed her father. Damn it all to hell.

He finished as quickly as he could. Alex showed him a corner in the back where he could sleep, and he led the girl away. Neil watched the outlaw get down on one knee and talk to her. There was a gentleness in the gesture. Gentleness in a man who had cold-bloodedly intended to kill him.

Neil closed his eyes. Damn, but he was tired, and he had a long ride ahead of him tonight.

With mixed emotions, Janet approached Braemoor. The escorts Neil had hired in Edinburgh had been respectful and polite. She had stopped at the same inn where she and Neil had stayed a few day earlier. She kept remembering the companionship of that ride, even at the pace Neil had set.

She missed him with every step her mount took. She missed stealing glances at him. She missed his hands, which reached out to catch her as she dismounted. And his face, as he had told her about his mother, haunted her.

She also missed, almost beyond belief, holding her son and singing a lullaby to the lasses. She missed their hands in hers, and seeing the happiness on their faces as they rode the ponies.

And then she longed to see Alex before he left Scotland, and her life, forever.

Her heart felt torn in three different directions. The simple truth was that her greatest duty was to those who could not protect themselves.

They reached Braemoor in the late afternoon. She did not wait for her escorts to help her dismount. She slid off the horse herself and nearly ran to the door, opening it herself.

Torquil appeared seemingly out of nowhere. His grave face broke into a hint of a smile when he saw her.

“The children?” she asked.

“Fine as the day,” he said, then hesitated. “Some horsemen came by, saying they represented your brother-in-law. They tried to take the young lord.” He straightened, pride radiating from him. “I took my musket to them, as did young Kevin and the men the marquis had asked to stay here.”

Her heart pounded wildly. She should have suspected. At least Neil had. “Thank you,” she said, reaching out her hand to take his. Then she turned to the two soldiers standing behind her. “These men escorted me. The marquis promised them twenty pounds, good wine and a fine meal.”

Torquil nodded. “Your lasses will be pleased to see you. I will take care of these gentlemen.”

Janet turned to the two men. “Thank you for taking such good care of me.”

The face of one of the men flushed with pleasure. “It was our honor, my lady.”

She stayed no longer, but mounted the steps with unladylike haste. She headed first for the nursery. All four children were there. Colin was on the floor playing with Samson. Grace had obviously been reading and the other two were painting pictures, with more paint on them than on the canvases. All three jumped up when she walked in.

Colin reached the table, and using one of its legs, stood up, wobbling slightly. He let go to hold out his two arms to her and took an unsteady step toward her. She reached him before he fell and picked him up, holding him close to her. “Ah, my wee love,” she said, her heart skipping a beat. His first faltering step.
The first she had seen
. Had he taken a step without her? She did not want to miss even one of those milestones in his life.

Still holding him tight, she stooped and received the hugs of her daughters. Annabella’s kiss was especially moist and enthusiastic. When Janet had become their stepmother, she had been the first to embrace her unhesitatingly. It had taken Grace the longest time, but now even her eyes filled with pleasure at seeing her stepmother.

Janet’s heart swelled with emotion. She was back with them. Thanks to Neil. She rested a hand on Grace’s shoulder. “I think there is something special for you outside.”

Grace’s eyes had widened. “A pony.”

“Aye. From the marquis.”

Grace stood silently for a moment, as if she could not believe it. Janet could not ever remember Grace receiving a gift from her father. Her own Christmas gifts to Grace had been made-over dresses and homemade dolls. Alasdair had always said there was no money for fripperies.

“Can we ride our ponies?” Annabella asked.

“I think Grace’s new pony will be tired, but you may all go look at her.”

Clara, who was behind them, shook her head. It was so rare that the nursemaid ever refused the lasses anything, Janet hesitated, then spoke to Grace. “Will you find Lucy first and tell her I am back? Then I will go with you.”

Obviously disappointed, Grace looked at her for a moment.

“I will be there in a moment,” Janet assured her.

Grace nodded reluctantly, then took Annabella’s hand, Rachel following behind.

When the three were gone, Clara closed the door behind them. “Someone came tae take Colin,” she said. “Said his uncle had sent for ‘im. Torquil would no let him do it, but Jamie has seen them skulking about when he rode tae the village. We ’ave not been letting them go out alone.”

Janet clutched Colin closer to her. The lasses were of no value to Reginald except for purposes of bargaining, a way to get her back to Lochaene. He knew she loved the lasses as much as she did Colin. Or mayhap they still had hoped to take Colin.