A Hint of Heather

by Rebecca Hagan Lee

  “He’s not there, sir.”

  “He has to be there,” Major Oliver insisted. “He’s chained to his cot.”

  “He was chained to his cot, sir, but now he’s gone.” The aide drew himself to his full height and stood stiffly at attention, preparing himself for the general’s reaction as he extended his hand and revealed several lengths of iron chain.

  “Bloody hell!” Oliver roared. “Fetch his guards. Find Marsden and Stanhope and have them report to me immediately.”

  “They’re gone, too, sir. I checked their cots and searched the barracks. No one has seen them. Neither Sergeant Marsden nor Corporal Stanhope was at his post when the morning watch arrived to relieve them.”

  “Damn him! Claremont’s escaped!” Oliver shouted, forgetting his hangover, forgetting everything except the fact that he’d been duped by Neil Claremont, the bloody rich, bloody know-it-all-son-of-a-bitch earl of Derrowford. “And Sergeant Marsden and Corporal Stanhope conspired to aid him. I should have known his argument against the celebration last evening was a ruse. It was a ruse to force me to confine him to quarters so he wouldn’t be obliged to attend the celebration, I’m sure of it. Claremont’s probably halfway to London by now! Find him! Find them! I want him hanged for his bloody insolence!”

  “H-hanged, sir?” The lieutenant sputtered, alarmed by his commanding officer’s rage.

  “Yes, hanged,” Oliver snapped. “H-A-N-G-E-D. It’s what the army does to deserters.”

  “We found several sets of pony tracks coming in single file through the gap in the wall and leading right up to Major Claremont’s quarters. I don’t think the major escaped,” the lieutenant ventured. “I think …”

  “I don’t care what you think!” Oliver snatched the length of chain out of the lieutenant’s hand and threw it on the hard-packed floor. “I’m the commander of Fort Augustus. I think. You follow orders. My orders.”

  “I understand, sir, but I feel it’s my duty to report my findings and—”

  “You found Major Claremont missing from his quarters,” Oliver pointed out. “After I expressly ordered him confined to his quarters until further notice. That is all I need to know.”

  “But, sir, I don’t thi—believe—Major Claremont left his quarters willingly or on his own. I believe he was kidnapped.”

  “Poppycock!” Oliver laughed. “Kidnapped? Don’t be absurd? Who would want to kidnap a mere major in His Majesty’s Royal Corps of Engineers when the commanding officer, a major general, is on the premises? And who would have the audacity to march into an armed British fortress in order to kidnap either one of us?”

  “This fortress is incomplete and undermanned and we are building it in extremely hostile territory, sir.”

  “We’re a conquering army, Lieutenant. We were victorious in our efforts. Have you seen any hostiles?” He paused before the open window and surveyed the fort and a group of Scottish whores milking cows.

  “No, sir.”

  “Of course, you haven’t.” Oliver turned from the window and faced the lieutenant. “That’s because there aren’t any hostiles. We’ve subdued them. Men, women and children. Right down to their ruddy highland cows. I find it absurd to think that a column of riders could get through the guards posted around our perimeter.”

  “There were no perimeter guards last night, sir. There weren’t any guards at all,” the lieutenant reminded him.

  “Why not?”

  “You ordered every man on the post to attend the celebration, sir.”

  “I ordered every man on the post except the men standing guard to attend the celebration,” Oliver corrected in a voice threaded with hauteur and steel.

  “No, sir, you didn’t. You issued the order that every man attend the celebration. Major Claremont objected to leaving the wall unguarded. That’s why—”

  “Major Claremont is absent from his quarters without permission. I ordered him confined to those quarters for insubordination to his superior. And at the moment, I consider Major Claremont a deserter. I want your report for General Wade, Lieutenant, and in that report I expect you to make note of the major’s current status. Do you understand?”

  The lieutenant clicked his heels together as he snapped to attention and saluted once again. As far as General Oliver was concerned the matter was settled. Major Claremont’s fate had been sealed. But as far as the lieutenant was concerned the matter was far from settled. He’d write the report the way General Oliver ordered it written and he would hand it over to the general as ordered, but he would also send copies of it and the complete version of his original report detailing his findings of kidnapping to General Wade. “Yes, sir.” He struggled to keep the frustration and contempt for his commanding officer out of his voice as he answered.

  “Good.” The general smiled. “Dismissed, Lieutenant.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Oh, and Lieutenant,” Oliver waited until the aide was halfway out the door before calling him back. “I expect you to submit your report to me and be ready to ride in one hour. I want Claremont found! One can never be quite certain of where Claremont’s passions lie, but I’ll wager he’s hightailed it back to the comforts of London or directly disobeyed my orders by leaving his quarters and the fort in order to secure the services of the Edinburgh stonemasons. Either way, I’ll be leading a column to find Major Claremont and the other two deserters and when they return to London it will be to face court-martial and hanging.”

  The lieutenant nodded. He had less than an hour to write his reports and locate the fastest courier on the post.

  “Before God and kin and by the laws of the Holy Church in Rome and the laws of Scotland, I declare you to be husband and wife.”

  Neil listened as Father Moray concluded the ceremony tying the nuptial knot between Sergeant Marsden and Flora MacInnes. He knew the words of the ceremony by heart and much of the Latin Mass as well after having attended three weddings in one day—including his own. An incredible feat for a man who prided himself on having never attended one in the course of his adult years. Indeed, up until today he had successfully avoided all of the social and societal obligations associated with the word and the institution of marriage. And somewhere on the betting books at White’s, his gentleman’s club in London, was a list of those of his friends and associates who had wagered on just how old the earl of Derrowford would be before he attended any wedding, much less his own. Eight and twenty. He would have to remember to inscribe the date and his age in the betting book once he returned to London. If he returned to London. If he remained alive long enough to do so. A conspiracy of old men had succeeded where everyone else had failed. They had succeeded in marching him to the altar where he’d tied himself to a stranger and sacrificed his grand dreams for the future.

  Neil felt a hand on his sleeve and glanced down to find it belonged to the MacInnes. He had been standing to the right of the grooms and she had been standing to the left of the brides, but now, he realized that the newly married couples had paired off and his bride had quietly appeared at his elbow.

  “It’s done,” she pronounced softly as Sergeant Marsden and Flora and Corporal Stanhope and Magda turned to face the clan before exiting the chapel. She seemed as resigned to the marriages as he was and about as happy, Neil thought as he followed the two couples and the priest, automatically tightening his hand on the MacInnes’s arm as she struggled to walk in his boots. “They’re married. It’s time to for me to bestow dowries on the brides,” she said.

  As they entered the old bailey, the MacInnes frowned at the coins still lying scattered on the wooden tables. Neil watched her lips moving as she stared at the money. “What are you doing?” he demanded. “Praying it won’t disappear?”

  “Counting,” she answered. “And praying. Praying it will be enough.”

  “How much more do you require?” he asked, the sharp cutting tone back in his voice. “Because that’s all the coin I had on me at the time of my abduction. Since I was crass enough to give yo
u coin in lieu of a wedding ring, why don’t you tell me exactly how much more your wedding ring and my stud services are going to cost me?”

  “I wish I knew,” she snapped. “Just as I wish I knew how much more it’s going to cost me. I didn’t purchase you and if I had any choice in the matter I wouldn’t touch a ha’penny of your generous wedding gift, but I have no other funds. In order to gift Magda and Flora with dowries, I have to use some of the Judas coin you gave me and I’m trying to decide on a fair, but generous, amount for the dowries. They must be equal amounts. I can’t risk favoring one sister over the other.” She wrinkled her brow and chewed at her bottom lip in a gesture Neil was beginning to recognize as one of uncertainty. “This would have been so much easier if you had simply presented me with a few coins instead of flaunting your excess of riches by drowning me in them. With all this coin lying around for everyone to see, how am I supposed to decide what’s fair and generous? If I give them too much I’ll be accused of flaunting your wealth and if I give them too little, I’ll be accused of being miserly and of not appreciating the sacrifice they’ve made for the good of the clan.” She kept her voice low, but Neil could hear the fury and the frustration in it.

  “Sacrifice? What sacrifice are your women making for the good of the clan?”

  “My women are marrying Englishmen.”

  “Englishmen your women kidnapped. Englishmen who, by virtue of their loyalty to me, weren’t given a choice in the matter. Nobody asked them if they wanted to become husbands to a couple of man-hungry highland wenches.”

  “You asked them,” she pointed out. “Not more than an hour ago. And they agreed.”

  “They agreed because I’m their commanding officer,” Neil told her. “They agreed because they had the misfortune to be standing guard outside my door when your clan came calling. They agreed because if they chose to return to Fort Augustus without me, they’d be facing certain punishment and a possible death sentence. They agreed because the only choice you gave them was marriage to your women or release on the moors.”

  “They had a choice!” Jessalyn insisted. “They could have chosen release.”

  “And how long do you think two unarmed English soldiers would survive? Surrounded by highland clans? On foot and wearing bright red uniforms?” he demanded, maneuvering the MacInnes ever closer to the tables so she could get a better count of her coin. He glanced down at it and realized there must be well over a hundred pounds in gold and sterling lying there. “When you reward your women, remember their husbands. They had less choice in the matter than either of us.”

  Jessalyn studied the coins for a long time. She hated to admit it, but the earl was right. She hesitated. She’d never seen so much money or had a better reason to share it. She allowed her hand to linger over the tabletop before she selected a sovereign, a crown and a guinea to give to each woman.

  “There’s no need to be stingy with your reward.” A rush of warm air brushed her neck, caressed her cheek and sent shivers down her spine as Neil leaned close and whispered in her ear. “Give them more.”

  “This money has to see the whole of the clan through the autumn and winter,” she said. “If the winter’s harsh, I’m afraid I won’t have enough.”

  “You’ll have enough,” he reminded her. “My name alone guarantees that.” Neil placed his hand over hers and steered her hand back to the table. “Remember these women are part of your clan.” He practically sneered the words. “They’re your friends and your family. They risked life and limb to help capture you a wealthy husband. Whether you like it or not, you’re a wealthy member of the English aristocracy. Share the wealth, Countess. Reward your women handsomely for their timely intervention in your life and for their sacrifices for the good of the clan. You can afford it.”

  Even his sneers were seductive. Jessalyn was shocked to discover that his voice and his touch had the power to affect her even when he wasn’t being particularly polite or fair or charming. He was as handsome as the devil, might in fact, be the devil tempting her. “Can I?”

  “Trust me,” he whispered once again. “I promise there’s more money where that came from. You’re a wealthy woman now.”

  Jessalyn quickly added two more sovereigns, crowns and guineas to each pile. She scooped up one pile of money and presented it to Magda, then turned and scooped up the other coins and handed them to Flora. The money they held in their hands was more money than either woman had ever seen until that day. Auld Tam’s daughters gasped at Jessalyn’s incredible generosity and willingness to share what had been her wedding gift from her husband. And tears shimmered in Tam’s eyes at the way in which his new laird had honored his daughters.

  “No man should start married life at a monetary disadvantage to his wife or his wife’s family,” Neil said as he reached out and selected the same amount Jessalyn had selected, and handed it to Marsden and to Stanhope. “This should even things up.” He shook hands with both men, then turned to face his new bride. While the MacInnes had bestowed a fine dowry on her kinswomen, he had made certain his men were taken care of. Technically, the coin belonged to the MacInnes, but Neil made certain that all the members of the clan understood from whence it came.

  He expected to see anger on the MacInnes’s face and was surprised to find a serious, thoughtful look there instead. “It doesna seem possible to become so rich in one day simply by exchanging vows with a man.”

  “It’s possible,” he answered. “And in my world, it’s the method most preferred by fortune hunters, but it only works if you exchange vows with the right man.”

  She tilted her head to one side and looked at him from beneath her veil of lashes in a move that would have seemed transparently coy on another woman, but was completely natural for her. “Are you the right man?”

  “That depends on what you’re looking for,” he answered, the sharp edge of bitterness and betrayal evident in his voice. “If you’re in the market for an alliance with England, access to a fortune, a title and a distinguished name as sire for your children …”

  “I’d like children,” she murmured, dreamily. “At least three or four.”

  “Then I’m the right man for you, at least temporarily. At least your father and my grandfather thought so. But you should know that I had a life in London before I took up my commission in the army. I have obligations there and plans of my own.”

  Plans that didn’t include her—or her children. He didn’t say it, but she heard it in his voice. Well, what of it? She had plans of her own, too. Plans that didn’t include a Sassenach husband. “Agreed.”

  “What?” He looked at her, not trusting what he heard.

  She smiled brightly. Too brightly. “An alliance with England, access to a fortune, a title and a distinguished name as sire for her children. An absent husband. What more could any woman want? Especially a bare-legged, barefooted wild highland miss?”

  He would have to be deaf, dumb and blind to miss the fury in her voice and in her manner as she flung his insulting words back at him.

  “I was trying to determine your needs,” he told her. “Because if you’re looking for more than what I was purchased to provide, marriage to me is sure to be a disappointment for you.”

  “That’s rich coming from you! Tell me, my lord Derrowford, what hasn’t been a disappointment for me? My father’s betrayal? My secret betrothal? My wedding? The weddings of my kinswomen? Before the Uprising, when we were a well-to-do clan, there would have been a real feast following the weddings and wine and ale and whisky and toasts to our health. After the toasting, there would have been music and dancing and speeches. We would have worn gowns sewn with silver favors from head to toe so the clan members could tear off tiny keepsakes of our weddings and our highland husbands would have carried boxes of matching favors to give as well. We would have examined our wedding gifts for the benefit of the guests, then led the way to our new homes where the women would present us with salt and housekeeping gifts. Our husbands would carry us over the
thresholds then wait impatiently while the women undressed us and put us to bed, carefully untying all the knotted ribbons on our nightgowns in preparation …” Her words seemed to die in her throat as an embarrassed blush spread across her face. She cleared her throat and recovered her power of speech. “But that kind of wedding wasn’t possible for me, so I’ll just have to suffer more disappointment, won’t I?”

  “Suppose we find out.”

  Caught off-guard, Jessalyn wasn’t sure she’d heard him correctly. Her breath caught in her throat and her heart beat a rapid tattoo against her rib cage. “What?”

  “It’s time we retired.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “Marriage to me may prove to be a disappointment in every other way,” he said, “but I’ve never been a disappointment in the bedchamber.” He swung her up in his arms without warning. “It’s time we retire to our bedchamber in the castle and begin that quaint Scottish custom you call a honeymoon.”

  Chapter Nine

  “Now?” It was all she could think to say as her breath quickened and her heartbeat increased in response to the promise, the mastery in his voice. The man who had swept her up into his arms was clearly a man to be reckoned with, a man beyond her control and outside her realm of experience. Although she hadn’t had any intimate experiences with men, she wasn’t completely ignorant of the things that took place behind closed bedchamber doors. She had grown up listening to her kinswomen gossiping amongst themselves, praising or bemoaning their husbands’ performances in bed and she had had six brothers and a father who bred and raised highland cattle. She knew men were made differently from women and she had some idea of how they were different. But until this morning, she’d never tasted a man’s lips upon her own. And while she understood the necessity of her marriage as a means for saving her clan, Jessalyn was uneasy with the idea that the stranger she’d married now had the right to use her body as he pleased. The loss of control over the one thing that belonged solely to her frightened her. What would he do to her? What could he do? If he chose to beat her, would any of her clansmen come to her rescue? Would they dare to interfere? To come between a man and his legal wife?