Liam turned a scowl to her, and Brea cowered a little at the look in his eyes. “Leave me, Brea. Yer words are like a poison, and ye should be sucked out, removed from me life.” He stomped away towards the direction of the Fort, but he could still hear Brea huffing and rushing out of the woods. He was grateful to be rid of her.
Once she was gone, he could think again, but the anger and despair still remained. Did he believe Brea and believe in the inconstancy of Elizabeth? It didn’t seem possible, but why would Elizabeth kiss John unless she had feelings for him? She was not the type of woman to throw her favors around to just anyone. However, he had been surprised that she had initiated their lovemaking at the inn. It had been uncharacteristic of her, but he knew that she had been a maid.
Maybe that was her plan the whole time, and he had been made a fool by it all. He had gone and fallen in love with someone who didn’t really want him or want to be with him forever, only for a moment. He shook his head at his own foolishness as he approached the fort.
What am I going tae say tae her now?
He sighed, knowing that both Charlotte and Mrs. MacLean would be down his throat about it once they got wind of his and Brea’s kiss. He would have to tell them about John then and see what they thought about that.
But when he arrived at the Fort, he saw Julia and Charlotte outside, looking off into the distance and whispering to each other. He approached, his heart clenched with worry. “Charlotte, Julia, what is the matter?”
He looked between them, and their eyes were filled with confusion. Charlotte said, “She is gone. Elizabeth is gone. She has just left us.”
Liam wanted to scream his rage into the night sky. “Why? Why should she leave?” He was afraid to hear the answer.
Julia stammered, “What a mess everything seems to be. She said her father is on his death-bed, and she must go to him before he passes to deal with some matters.”
He felt a slight bit of relief. Perhaps it was not his fault that she rushed off as she did. Surely, she would not wish to stop and say goodbye to him, anyway.
She has kissed another man while making love to me! Why should I care anything for the lass anymore?
“I see.” His tone was somber, for even though his own heart was sore, he felt pity for the poor lass, each moment filled with more pain than the next.
Charlotte gripped onto his arm. “But it gets worse, Liam, much worse!”
“What is it?”
Julia continued. “She was barely making any sense as she drove away, calling herself a fool.”
“What has gotten worse, Charlotte? What is it?” His tone grew louder, for his impatience was becoming unbearable. What was so terrible that made lovely, cheery, strong Charlotte look as pale as a ghost?
Charlotte took a calming breath. “Before she left, Liam, she informed us of a new occurrence.”
Liam wanted to stamp his foot with impatience. Nothing could be worse than what he was already feeling at the moment after Brea’s meddling. He was ready.
She continued. “Elizabeth has agreed to marry John Campbell.”
Liam felt like the ground had disappeared from underneath him, and he was falling down, down, down, into darkness.
Chapter Twenty-Two
When Liam opened his eyes again, he realized he hadn’t disappeared, that the world hadn’t yet swallowed him up. “What? Why?” When he spoke, his voice sounded strangled, and it was a foreign sound to him.
“She did not say. I am just as surprised as you are, Liam. We thought,” Charlotte glanced at Julia, “we both thought that you might make an offer to her.”
Liam felt that strong headache returning even though he had only had one pint that evening. It was a headache borne of overwhelming pain and confusion. Rubbing his face with his hands, he paced away from the two women. Finally, he burst out, “Bloody Hell, I was going tae! That was what I wanted tae do this evening. But it appears that someone has gotten there before me!”
He could hear the way his angry voice echoed off the Fort’s walls, but he didn’t care. Julia said quietly, “Liam, she told us that John had asked her a day or so ago, and she told him that she needed time to think about it. Liam, she was waiting for you.”
“And I have ruined it with my stupidity, and with Brea’s constant meddling!”
“What are you talking about?”
Liam kept pacing, but he lowered his voice. “I was set to meet her in the woods. I received a letter from her telling me to meet her at six in the trees next tae the Fort. When I arrived, Brea was there. Ye ken her already. The woman…”
“At the house of ill-repute, yes we know,” Charlotte said, waving her hand in the air to show its insignificance.
“Aye. She came and told me that she sent the letter. That she had intended to meet with me in order tae give me some news.”
Charlotte and Julia waited patiently for him to continue. “She told me that John and Elizabeth were seen kissing in the woods the other day and that Elizabeth did not push him away. She told me that Elizabeth was lost to me.”
Charlotte and Julia glanced at each other, and Liam’s stomach twisted into knots. “God, ye knew? Ye knew about the kiss? Why did ye say naething? Ye could tell how I felt about the lass.”
Charlotte said in a low voice, “It was nothing to her, Liam. It was you she wanted. That kiss with John only solidified that fact.” Liam looked to Julia for confirmation, and she nodded as well. He stared out to the Sound, watching as the moonlight lit up the crests of the small waves coming to shore. Their constant rhythm was a mesmerizing sight, and it took him away for a moment, away from the pain of reality.
When he returned to the present, his voice was soft. With his back turned, he told them, “Brea kissed me then in the woods. Elizabeth saw it.”
Charlotte gasped. “So that must be why she so hastily agreed to marry John.”
Liam’s rage built again, and his powerlessness was overwhelming him. He had to do something. He stomped past the women and into the Fort, even though they tried to call him back. His purpose was clear. Kill John Campbell, or at least maim him so that he would feel the same pain that was flooding Liam’s heart at that moment. He rushed inside, ignoring the light sound of music and merry-making, and he spotted John on the far side of the hall, in conversation with a few men, laughing.
He is bloody well pleased with himself, is he nae?
Liam felt like the hall of the Fort had turned into a dark tunnel, and all he could see at the end was John’s smiling face. Time slowed as he walked towards the man, his fists itching to take out his rage on something or someone. John was the perfect candidate.
As John turned his eyes to Liam’s approach, Liam tightened his fist and swung hard into the other man’s face, savoring the feel of his knuckles on bone. In a fit of surprise and pain, John fell to the ground in a heap. The man standing next to John pulled out his sword, and Liam laid his hand on his own.
John leaned up on an elbow and yelled, “Dinnae, Finlay! Leave it.” A silence had fallen over the crowd as they all watched the scene before them. Fergus had rushed to Liam’s side, but Liam stayed him with his hand.
John dabbed at his bloody nose. “What is it, lad? Ye wish tae take yer revenge for my success?”
“Ye are a thief. She doesnae want ye, Campbell.”
John laughed. “If she doesnae, then why have I been made the happiest man in the world? ‘Tis ye she doesnae want. Ye could never commit tae anyone, and ye have naething tae offer her.”
Liam wanted to punch him again, to pummel the man’s face into the ground until it became part of the flagstones, but his anger was only compounded by the fact that he feared John Campbell was right. Deep down, he had always known that he was not good enough for Elizabeth, but he had hoped that love could overcome that. That they could make a life together regardless that he had barely anything to offer her.
With another scowl in John’s direction, his breath heaving, Liam left the room, pushing through the ogling c
rowd, past Angus’ surprised face and Charlotte and Julia. He would go across the Sound. He would take a boat and leave and resolve to forget that any of it had ever happened.
* * *
Elizabeth found that she rather enjoyed traveling in darkness. The shroud of the night air was a comfort to her, as it matched the dark mood of her heart. After the heat of the moment of finding out about Liam and her father and engaging herself to John, her emotions had calmed. She was still left with a dull ache from the top of her head to the base of her belly. It made her feel heavy and limp, and she was glad that the ride to her father would still take a few hours. Somehow, in those few hours, she would remake herself.
She had promised herself to a man she did not love. What of it? Many women before her had done it, and so would many after. It was the way of the world, her father would say, and she hoped that he would be happy enough that her new husband was a laird, and in charge of the most powerful clan in Scotland and mostly sympathetic to English causes. It would be enough.
As for John, she could help him create the link between England and Scotland, and thus would be a useful wife to him. Usefulness was something. If there was not to be the deep abiding passion between them that made one change the course of their life, then at least there would be kindness, usefulness, and affection of sorts.
She knew that John loved her, and she thought that perhaps that would be enough. She toyed with her mother’s ring on her finger. Soon there would be another ring on her hand to solidify her connection to John forever. She was to be a wife. Even though she felt the import of the words, and repeating them in her head kept peeling back layer after layer of them, making them seem more real, she still couldn’t believe it.
Liam’s face kept coming into her mind, and she couldn’t push it away, no matter how hard she tried. She closed her eyes, for what difference did it make in darkness such as that? She soon fell asleep and awoke a few hours later, as the carriage slowed outside the prison.
Wiping the sleep from her eyes, Elizabeth jumped up to be led out of the carriage and into the prison. It appeared that all had been made aware of her arrival, for the men simply allowed her to pass. There were no questions, no outstretched hands to block her way, and she moved through the prison gates like a night breeze, softly, calmly. She wanted to rush, but she found her body could not move quickly. It was like she was walking her own death march, and soon, she met up with a tall, dark-clad man with keys in his hand.
“Lady Darling, I am Horatio. I am here to take you to your father.”
“Thank you, Sir,” she said softly. Her voice sounded not her own. She was fatigued as well as still in disbelief. She watched the back of his dark coat as he led her through the moistened stone hallways. In the gloom, she could see figures in their beds tossing and turning. She could hear the soft groans of nightly despair from nearly all corners of the prison, and at one point, needed to lift her handkerchief to her nose to keep out the smell.
Horatio saw this and said, “I am sorry, my Lady. We have taken you through the best route.”
“There are worse?” she asked with disbelief.
“I am afraid so. Your father is in an entirely different section, set aside especially for those prisoners the King has an affection for.”
She nodded but thought how silly the king should have an affection for her father when his own daughter wondered at her lack of feeling at the prospect of his looming death. She kept silent while making it through the first stone corridor, out over a flat dark expanse, and then into a new corridor, with wooden doors.
Horatio paused in front of one of them and pushed the key inside. “Your father may be resting, but your aunt is here as well to comfort him. The prison chaplain is also inside to be with him.”
“Thank you,” she said again, for lack of anything better to say. Inside, there was only one candle lit, but it was shining on the pale, moist face of her father. To her surprise, shock and sadness struck her in the heart, and she clutched at a nearby chair to keep herself steady.
Aunt Mildred stood up and rushed to her niece’s side. Elizabeth could tell she’d been crying. “Elizabeth! Your father will be so glad to have you here! Come and sit.” Reluctantly, Elizabeth allowed herself to be pushed forward and sat in front of her father’s sleeping form.
Gently, Mildred tapped her brother, and he stirred, his same cold eyes looking at Elizabeth with recognition. “Daughter, you have heeded my letter. Good. That is good.” His voice was rough and dry, and between words, Elizabeth could hear the rasping in his chest. It would not be long now.
“Yes, Father, I have come.”
“And what have you to say for yourself?” Even on the brink of death, Lord Mortimer Darling was still poised, still traditional, and still unfeeling.
Elizabeth sighed, feeling strange that her future had now been decided, and explained it all. “I have engaged myself, father, to the laird of the strongest clan in Scotland.” She watched him close his eyes and nod with satisfaction. “You do not need to find me a husband; I have done so on my own. We shall be married when all is settled here.”
“Good,” he breathed. “Would this be John Campbell?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Strange that you should select him, or that he should select you after the death of his brother, but ah well. It will have to do. You will be helpful to England, will you not, Elizabeth? Help them create strongholds in Scotland with your power as the new Lady Campbell.”
Elizabeth nodded. “I will, Father.”
“Good.” He tapped her lightly on the fingertips. She looked down in surprise. It was not usual for her father to make any sort of affection embrace, and she knew that he must be sick, indeed, if he was finding ways to approve of her actions. “Your mother will be proud. I shall alert the solicitor.”
“But Father,” Elizabeth began, but he cut her off.
“I have already written the letter.” Pointing to the side, he motioned to Horatio, who grabbed the letter in hand and left wordlessly. “I am sending the information to him tonight. You will go to visit him in Church Street tomorrow and collect what is yours.”
Elizabeth was angry that tears were budding at the corners of her eyes. Everything was now so final. She could hear the soft sobs of his sister behind her, and he glanced at her with a faint flash of his old annoyance. “Do well, Elizabeth. Be a lady, and do not forget the proper things you have been taught. I feared that Scotland would ruin you, but you have caught yourself a laird. Very promising, indeed.”
He began to struggle more and more with words, and Elizabeth could see his chest tremble as it fought for breath. She clenched her hands together in her lap. It had been difficult enough to watch her mother die, but also to see her last parent die before her? What a sad fate for an only child.
She didn’t know what to say to him in parting. There were no words left to her. He had done her wrong time and time again, and many others. There was no comfort she felt she could give; however, she endeavored to think of something. While she struggled, her father turned his eye once more to her and said, “You are a good girl, Elizabeth,” before breathing out his final breath and then laying still.
Elizabeth blinked in shock at the limp, bony figure of her father. She turned to her aunt, who burst into a fresh bout of tears. Elizabeth found herself cooing and comforting the older woman while keeping her one eye on her father’s deceased form.
It was over now. Her father was gone, and she was now mostly alone in the world, set to do her duty even after his death. As she kept her arm on her aunt’s shoulder, she said, “We shall sort everything together, Aunt. We shall begin preparations tomorrow, but we must go to the solicitor tomorrow.” Tomorrow. The prospect seemed strange, with a dead man lying before her. She wiped a tear from her eye and said softly to herself, “Tomorrow.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Once John had been helped up by Finlay and cleaned his nose with a damp handkerchief, he couldn’t have been prouder. Norm
ally, he would have felt ashamed to be bested by a MacLean in a fisticuff, but he had been ambushed, and it was for the reason that gave John no end of happiness.
Finlay frowned at his laird. “What is this about, Laird? Why would ye nae let me slice the man in two?”
“I told ye before, Finlay, we are aligned with the MacLeans now, especially in business matters. That, however, was a very personal matter, and although it may nae look it, it gave me great personal pleasure.”
“Will ye explain?”
John looked around. The crowd had returned to their merrymaking, if not a little subdued. He lowered his voice. “I know I am nae tae tell anyone, and neither should ye, but the lass has agreed tae marry me.”
Seduction in the Highlands: By choosing him she loses her inheritance, by leaving him she brakes her heart... Page 21