The Road to Gretna (21 page)

“Oh, he doesn’t know about Angus. I scarcely know Angus myself.” She felt rather than heard his sudden intake of breath. “He is my aunt’s doctor and he always seemed kind, dedicated to relieving suffering. I had no one else to turn to when Uncle Vaughn said I must marry Bartholomew.”

He expelled his pent breath in a long, silent sigh. “I see. I wondered where Cousin Bartholomew came into the story.”

“He’s not really my cousin, he’s my aunt’s nephew, but he’s completely under my uncle’s thumb. If I were Bartholomew’s wife, Uncle Vaughn would control my fortune.”

“So that’s it! I’m surprised that he has waited so long, then. A year of mourning, perhaps, for the sake of observing the proprieties, though he doesn’t sound the sort to care about such things, but...”

“It’s because of my father’s will. Papa didn’t want me to marry young. You see, my mother was only seventeen when she married, and then she died in childbirth. I think Papa felt he had robbed her. In any case, he wanted me to wait until I’m better able to choose, and so he arranged that if I wed before my twenty-first birthday, my husband will never have more than the income from my inheritance. My trustees—his law firm—will continue to control the capital. That’s not good enough for Uncle Vaughn.”

“I begin to heartily dislike your uncle Vaughn.”

“Not as much as I do. He kept me from meeting anyone, first because of mourning, then using my aunt’s illness as an excuse for not entertaining. But I shall be twenty-one next Wednesday. If I am still unwed then, and he catches me, I’ll be tied to Bartholomew before you can snap your fingers.”

“Now I understand your haste. But he’ll not find it so easy to—”

“He has shown me the special license, and introduced me to his tame clergyman. Jason, he frightens me. Angus and I must leave at dawn tomorrow.”

In her urgency, she jumped to her feet, drawing yaps of protest from the dogs. Jason stood up, too. After a moment of heavy silence he said, “We ought to go in.” He took her arm and by starlight they made their way to the steep path.

Champion pushed past her. She stumbled. Jason caught her in his strong arms, as he had—was it four days ago? It seemed like weeks. He pulled her against his chest and she felt the rapid beating of his heart. For a minute they stood stock still.

“I have to marry her, you see that, don’t you?” His voice was rough with some emotion she couldn’t decipher. “Even though her father’s coming... We’ve been three nights on the road... She trusted herself to me... God knows I’m no saint, Penny, but I can’t cry off now.”

“I know.” She broke away from him. “I know. Why do you think I’ve been trying to make you see her good points?”

He laughed with genuine amusement. “It’s ludicrous, isn’t it? I should be on my knees thanking the Lord for my good fortune.”

How could he laugh? She wanted to weep, for him and for herself. She turned and hurried down the hill.

She had just reached the bottom when a black figure appeared out of the darkness.

“Penelope? Where the de’il hae ye been this lang while?”

“One of the dogs knocked against me and I stumbled.”

It was true, but she felt guilty for misleading Angus, guiltier when he replied. "Are you hurt, my dear? Take my arm.”

She clung to him as they walked together to the house, Jason striding in silence on her other side, a good yard between them. Followed by the dogs, they went to the drawing-room, whither the other ladies had long since repaired. Champion frisked up to Thea and Honey slumped at Lady Kilmore’s feet. Henrietta jumped up, her face stormy.

“Jason, you let the dogs in without even knowing whether Lily is here.”

“Is she?” He raised quizzical eyebrows.

“She might have been. And you have been gone this age."

Penny tried to soothe the irate girl. “The castle ruins are very interesting, and the view magnificent. Lord Kilmore will show you tomorrow.”

“I do not wish to see. You know I do not care for castles, or for moors.”

Lady Kilmore exchanged a glance with Thea. They each took a dog by the collar and with apologetic murmurs moved towards the door.

“Meg!” commanded her mother.

Reluctantly Megan followed, pausing just inside the door to look at Penny with a question in her eyes. Penny shook her head; she had no intention of abandoning Jason to Henrietta’s fury. Thea reached for Meg’s arm and tugged her out of the room. Angus stayed, looking uncomfortable. Jason strolled to the fireplace and leaned against the mantle, his face noncommittal.

“In fact,” said Henrietta ominously, “I hate castles and moors.”

“Everything will look better in the morning,” Penny assured her.

“No, it will not. This house is paltry, and everything in it is about to fall to pieces.” She turned to Jason. “And your sisters are dowdy and they do not like me.”

Penny expected Jason to flare up in defence of his family, but though his eyes narrowed he didn’t speak, so she said, “I’m sure Thea and Megan never said that they dislike you, Henrietta.”

“No, but you call them by their Christian names and they always call me Miss White, and they did look at me so when I told them I do not care for reading. And they never go to parties and there are no shops for miles and miles and miles and then they are the shabbiest in the world. I will not live here! Jason, I will not marry you.

With his sardonic smile he looked down at her angry face and said, “That is your choice, my dear.”

Feeling limp, Penny dropped onto a sofa.

“Look ye here noo, ma laird,” Angus expostulated, “ye canna cry off after journeying sae far wi’ the lassie, and wi’out a proper chaperon.”

“Jason didn’t cry off,” Penny corrected him. “Henrietta did.” She couldn’t understand why Jason was not fighting to retrieve his bride.

“It is a woman’s privilege to change her mind,” said Jason, sounding bored.

“She doesna ken the consequences.”

“Henrietta,” Penny said, leaning forward, “do you realize that if you return to London unwed you will be disgraced, your reputation in shreds?”

“I do not care. I will not marry him!"

“Penelope, we canna gang tae Gretna the morn’s morning. ‘Tis impossible tae leave the lass alone in an unfriendly hoose.”

“It’s not unfriendly, Angus. Lady Kilmore would never treat Henrietta coldly only because she’s not going to be one of the family after all. We
must
be married tomorrow.”

“You can proceed on your way with a clear conscience, Knox,” Jason said mockingly. “Henrietta’s father will join us here shortly.”

“Papa?” Henrietta’s mouth fell agape. “But how... But why...?”

Her mingled incredulity and outrage made Penny laugh, somewhat hysterically. Henrietta glowered at her.

“Ye are unkind, Penelope.” Angus was stiff with reproach. “‘Tis nae the moment for levity.”

“It’s not going to work," Penny blurted out. “I can’t marry you, Angus. We’ll never understand each other and I’ll only make you miserable. It’s impossible—but what am I to do?” In a rush of despair she bent her head, her hands pressed to her cheeks.

“Marry me,” said Jason in an unnatural voice. He cleared his throat as the others all stared at him. Then he stepped forward and knelt on one knee before Penny. “Do me the honour of becoming my wife.”

Her heart racing, Penny sought for words. Her mind was blank.

Jason took a ring from his inside coat pocket and looked at it. His lips quirked. “No, this won’t do. It will not fit, and besides, Mr. White paid for it. Here, Henrietta, give it back to your father.”

Henrietta shrieked and ran from the room.

“I maun hope ye willna regret this day, Penelope,” said Angus heavily. “I didna think, when I—”

“Dr. Knox?” Meg interrupted him, peeking into the room, her eyes bright with curiosity. “If you are not otherwise engaged, Mama wishes to ask your advice about an old woman she forgot to mention earlier.”

Penny felt the weight of Angus’s gaze. It was quite impossible to raise her head to look at him. He sighed.

“I shall be happy to advise her ladyship, Miss Megan.” He departed with a brisk, businesslike tread.

Jason stood up, dusted his knee, and sat down beside Penny. “You have not given me an answer,” he said gravely.

“You cannot wish to marry me.”

“I do. Allow me to know my own mind.”

“You see? I am much too argumentative, and besides, I have a shocking temper. I was forever being scolded at school for being too outspoken.”

"Most unfeminine."

His tone was teasing. She looked at him uncertainly. “And I have a managing disposition.”

“I will not deny it, though I should rather call it practical.”

She looked down at her hands again. “And I’m not pretty.”

“Now that I will deny.” He took her twisting hands in a warm clasp. “Or rather, Henrietta is pretty; you are beautiful. You have a grace and dignity she will never attain, and you have the most glorious hair in the world.” Gently he touched her face. “Have you forgotten Ferrybridge?”

Penny blushed. “No, but...but I’m much too tall.”

“Your list of reasons why you cannot marry me is as long as Henrietta’s,” he said with a flash of amusement, then turned serious once more. “If the idea is distasteful to you, tell me and I shall not bother you again. But I love you, Penny, and I want you beside me, in my bed and in my life.”

She ached to believe him. Yet all her protests so far had evaded the most important point. “You can’t have understood what I told you: if I marry before I’m twenty-one, my husband will never touch my fortune.”

“I understand, but—”

“I don’t know precisely how much the income is,” she rushed on, not wanting to hear that he had forgotten. “I have an allowance for clothes, but the rest is paid directly to my uncle for household expenses. I daresay it is not enough—”

His finger on her lips silenced her. “It will be enough. We shall manage. It’s not for your money I want you, my dearest love.” He pulled her into his arms and the passionate fire of his kiss drove away her last doubts and fears.

It was Jason who broke their long embrace. He sat back, smoothed his hair, and said ruefully, “I cannot trust myself.”

“I trust you.” Penny laid her hand on his arm. “Jason, we can wait until after my birthday to be married. It seems nonsensical to—”

“No! Not that I think myself incapable of protecting you from your wicked uncle. He would be legally within his rights to remove you, though, and he could create an appalling scandal.”

“I don’t care if there is a scandal.”

“You may not, but he might claim that I held you against your will. Consider my reputation if you have no thought for your own. No, love, if we wait you will spend the next several days trembling with fear and the rest of your life wondering whether it’s really your fortune I want. Tomorrow at dawn we leave for Gretna Green.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

The road to Gretna from Newkirk started out rough, narrow, and hilly. Jason drove a pair of piebald horses, sturdy if far from handsome, hitched to the family gig. He had sent a boy to take the hired team back to the inn in Penrith.

“It would scarce be seemly to take Mr. White’s carriage,” he observed, grinning.

Altogether, he was remarkably cheerful for a man who had lost a fortune the night before. Penny thought he looked almost smug, which was encouraging. Overnight, her doubts that he could possibly really love her had grown again like weeds.

She was feeling decidedly unsettled. Last night Henrietta had come to her chamber, not, as she had expected, to reproach her, but to complain that it had never been a proper elopement if her father approved. Angus had played least in sight. The Kilmore ladies had expressed delight that she was to join the family, and she was grateful for their kindness. Yet she was sure they must be shocked by the disgraceful impropriety of her betrothal, if it could be called a betrothal.

And now, this fine morning, she was rattling along the stony track towards Gretna with a gentleman she had met a mere four days since. She loved him with all her heart, though she didn’t dare tell him so. There was no denying the awkwardness of the situation.

To cover her discomfort, she asked, “Why do people elope to Gretna Green, rather than anywhere else?”

“You mean you set off from London without knowing?”

“Well, it just seemed the proper thing to do.”

Jason laughed. “I doubt ‘proper’ is quite the right word.”

“You know what I mean.”

“As a matter of fact, anywhere in Scotland would do as well. Until 1754 it was possible to be married without either banns or license in the Fleet prison in London. When that was outlawed, an enterprising fellow in Gretna Green learned the Anglican marriage service and printed up certificates of marriage to add a formal touch to the ceremony. You see, in Scotland a lawful marriage consists merely of a declaration before witnesses of intent to wed, followed by living together as man and wife.”

His meaningful tone sent a hot flush racing from the roots of her hair all the way down to the tips of her toes. She was glad that he had to negotiate a narrow humpback bridge over a stream, giving her time to regain her composure.

“We are going to drive through Brampton?” she asked. “I am ready for my history lesson.”

“Yet another castle, of course, a mile or two outside the town, with the remains of Lanercost Priory not far off. And there are several stretches of Hadrian’s Wall nearby.”

“Was the Roman wall any more successful at keeping out the Picts than the medieval castles were at keeping out the Scots?”

Her embarrassment was forgotten in a lively historical discussion as they drove down from the moors through the low green hills around Brampton.

Beyond Brampton the road crossed the flat plain surrounding the estuaries of the Esk and Eden rivers. Everywhere Penny looked there were signs of flooding. She shuddered as she realized that only the floods had saved her from the disastrous mistake of marrying Angus yesterday.

She stole a glance at Jason. His face was intent as he guided the piebalds across a washed-out section of the road, the gig bumping and rattling in a way that reminded her of the chariot in which she had begun the journey.