Before Charlotte could reply, Liam arrived at the door again and said, “The men are preparing. The watchmen have seen their boats through the mist. They shall be here soon.”
Angus nodded tightly. “Remember lad, we shall avoid battle and bloodshed if we can help it. Nae sense in people dying over a simple matter.”
Liam left again, and Angus turned to Charlotte. He brushed a tear from her cheek. Charlotte could feel everything in her swell with happiness. Angus loved her. But her joy was quickly snuffed out. This should be a happy moment. Instead, it was fraught with fear, uncertainty, and the knowledge that they could never be. She replied, “I love you too, Angus, but—”
Angus kissed her, cutting off her words. His hands were on her face, and it was slow and gentle. Charlotte responded with fervor, wrapping her arms around him tightly, never wanting to let him go. He pulled away quickly and said, “Nae buts, lass. Nae yet.” Then he grabbed a shirt and threw it over his chest before taking his sword belt in hand. The buckles clanged as he worked to tie it around his waist.
“Come, we shall meet this Lord, and his men face tae face as Scotsmen do.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Mortimer sat at the front of the boat, staring off into the mist as it made its way to the shores of Mull, while one soldier rowed in the middle of the boat. He was glad that he had sent General Andrews away on duty. They might not need the other soldiers at all, but he could no longer bear the man’s weakness. He knew that he would have ruined Mortimer’s moment as he collected his brother’s murderer. Six soldiers sat in the boat next to them, and he felt confident that he would get what he wanted. What was one Scotsman against the British army?
Thanks to that silly, headstrong girl, he had an excuse to rush over to the Isle of Mull. What could be suspicious about this now? Not only was he rescuing a defenseless Englishwoman from the hands of these brutes, but he was also figuring out whether or not they had an inciter in their midst, ready to cut their British throats as they slept. He smiled grimly.
He tapped his fingertips together. How would Angus MacLean react to his aggressive presence on the island? Mortimer hoped that he would lose his temper, and then he’d have an excuse to kill him, right then and there. Mortimer wished this revenge business to be over and done with. He needed it done, for it had been too long that his brother’s death had been left behind as a mystery, and no one seemed to care about it anymore. It infuriated him, but he needed to stay calm in order to get what he wanted.
Even the King himself had tired of Mortimer’s attempts to question what had happened at Fort William those few months ago. But now, everything was at hand. Suddenly the castle appeared out of the afternoon mist, and Mortimer moved back slightly, surprised at its large ominous presence. He did not expect an island to have such a seat for a laird. It was a fine fortress and would do well in battle, but he hoped the brutes would be stupid enough to expose themselves before him and his soldiers’ muskets outside on the shore.
Once their boats slid onto the shore, he nearly expected a raid of tartan-clad warriors to jump out yelling, ready to plunge their blades into him. That’s why he’d warned the soldiers to keep their muskets at the ready the closer they got to the shore. Instead, he saw two men walking towards him, and Charlotte was among them, her head held down. The men were tall, lightly bearded, and both wore kilts, boots and had long blades at their sides.
So the little bitch is feeling shameful, as she should be. He stood tall and pushed his shoulders back. The English soldiers surrounded him as he made his way forward to meet the men. Once they were close enough to speak, Charlotte said, “Lord Darling, I was merely doing my duty to Julia, as my letter told you. I do not know why—"
Mortimer cut her off, ignoring the dark looks from the men beside her. “Be silent, woman. You have brought this mess upon us. You could be charged with treason if you intend to persist in this path. I would choose my steps very carefully if I were you.” He pointed at her sharply. “Why should you think that a Scottish clan seat is safer than a Fort under the protection of His Majesty?”
“Leave her be, Lord Darling. Yer quarrel is with me, is it nae?” An angry-looking Scotsman spoke to him from the side. Mortimer turned to see the man standing with his strong arms crossed across his chest.
He grinned, enjoying the sound of rough anger in the man’s voice. Oh, he shall be so easy to taunt. “’Tis true. Might I be right in assuming you are Angus MacLean, the laird in the interim until your brother returns from his trip to London?”
Angus nodded, and Charlotte looked pained. “Aye, ‘tis I. What is it ye want with me that ye’ve come all this way with soldiers at yer side?”
He motioned to the men who stood next to Mortimer, the barrels of their muskets pointed at him, but their eyes also watching the mist-filled area around the shore.
Mortimer grinned. “Excellent. Well, I, of course, want to return this woman to her father’s protection first. She could be accused of treason, always coming here as she does, an unmarried woman, seeming to have a soft spot for the Scots. But, I also have it on good authority that ye are the inciter of a battle, which I have heard about of late.”
Angus looked confused and then angry. “Ye accuse me of treason myself then? What have I done?”
Mortimer smiled, enjoying this all too much. Of course, the man would deny any involvement since the whispers of war did not truly exist. “The King has other reasons for wishing you to come into my custody. I have questions I must put to you. Privately, of course.” He eyed the man next to Angus. Mortimer reached forward to grab Angus by the arm, but the man next to him clutched his hand to his sword hilt, and the sound of other swords unsheathing echoed through the misty air.
Angus put his hand up to stop them. “Aye, what kind of fool would I be if I didnae prepare against a surprise attack from the British?” Mortimer squinted his eyes at the mist as did the soldiers, and he spotted a large number of kilted men, their eyes angry and hands on their weapons. He chuckled, but inwardly, he began to trouble slightly. He knew they were brutes, but he hadn’t expected such a large group of them, nor did he expect them to look as menacing as they did.
“I see. Well, you are smarter than I’ve given you credit for.” He looked bored and attempted to speak casually and sarcastically. The man next to him moved forward again, appearing ready to cut the man in two, but Angus pushed him back.
Angus asked again, “And then what happens? Once you have questioned me, I will return tae the clan?”
Mortimer nodded. “If I feel that you have had nothing to do with what I wish to question you about.”
Charlotte stepped forward. “But Lord Darling, surely this is unnecessary. I will come with you without a fight. I will do what you ask. I will marry the man you and my father have selected for me. It is no trouble. But please, leave this clan in peace. It is me you want.”
Mortimer knew that if General Andrews were here, he would have faltered at the sweetness of his daughter’s plea. He thanked God once more he had sent him away. What a useless, useless man.
Mortimer replied roughly, “Of course you will come back with us. What other option can there be?” Mortimer watched as Charlotte looked slowly at Angus, and he watched her as well, his expression bereft. The whole man’s persona had changed, and now instead of standing tall, his shoulders sank down, and he paled.
Mortimer thought, Ah, just as I surmised. All the better to break you, Scotsman. Charlotte moved forward to stand with the English soldiers, and Mortimer continue to speak. “And there will be no chance of an agreement, Miss Andrews. The man must give me the answers I seek. So what say you, Angus MacLean? Come you with us to be questioned? Or watch as my soldiers put English bullets into your men’s guts? The choice is yours.”
Angus swallowed, and Mortimer knew that he had the man. He was a besotted idiot, weakened by love: love of a woman and love of a clan. It was worthless to love anything overly much, or else one would find themselves weakened by it.
His brother, George, knew this well. He did not avenge his brother’s death for love. He did it for honor and to see the beauty of a Scot’s blood upon his sword.
Angus nodded. “I will come. There will be nae violence here, nae on my account.” His face was grim, and Mortimer’s heart did a leap of satisfaction. Angus’ second tried to stop him with a strong hand on his arm. Angus pulled out of it. “Nae, Liam. I must do this.”
Mortimer replied, clapping his hands firmly together. “Excellent. Then to the Fort, we shall go.”
Mortimer, Charlotte, and Angus moved towards the boats, and the soldiers watched behind them, their muskets still pointed towards the misty shore, keeping Lord Darling safe as he settled into the boat, feeling as satisfied as could be.
The soldiers packed themselves away in their own boat, only two of them holding their muskets up as the boats faded away across the water to the Fort. Mortimer sighed contentedly to himself and watched behind him to see a dismayed Charlotte and Angus not speaking to each other in the hull. Once he had his revenge, and the woman was married off so he could get his profit, he would be satisfied, and he could return to London, leaving this idiot General to fend for himself.
* * *
Angus’ heart felt like it had shattered into a thousand pieces. Once the words about marriage fell from Charlotte’s lips, nothing mattered anymore. He didn’t care if this Englishman demanded to question him or was planning on accusing him of something he hadn’t done. Charlotte was engaged and had known so. Upstairs in his room, when he had held her to him, and they’d uttered the words of love to each other, his life path had become clear. He would marry her, and they would work and live together happily forever.
Charlotte Andrews had opened up his cold heart, and she had made her home there. She could not be removed, and he didn’t want her to be. She made him better, and he was more confident with her than he had ever been in his life. With her, he felt like he was actually worth something. But now she was leaving him forever. And she’d known it! How could she not tell him? How could she let their hearts become so intertwined? Unless it wasn’t real.
His disappointment and despair quickly turned to rage. As the two of them sat in the boat together, heading towards their unknown fates, Angus boiled inside. He couldn’t even bring himself to look at her. Did she knowingly put him and his clan in danger by coming to see him? Had she planned on coming and giving her body to him before leaving him behind and marrying another man? Why toy with him in this manner? It seemed like pointless cruelty and so unlike the Charlotte that he thought he knew.
His mind was occupied with these questions, even though he was heading towards a danger he did not yet understand. His very life could be in this man’s hands. No one said anything as they glided over the smooth water towards the Fort. Angus was impatient. He wanted it to all be over, one way or another. If he was found guilty, then he could be killed, and that would be the end of all of his pain. What good was he anyway? If he was found innocent, then he could return to his clan and fulfill the duty that had been thrust upon him and try to push Charlotte out of his mind. Once Calum returned, he would think of a plan for how to get on with the rest of his life.
He would no longer let a woman get in the way of what he was meant to do. Charlotte had filled his entire being, and he could barely think straight anymore. With her assistance, he had been able to make a bit of progress with the clan, but without her, he was nothing. He had made a shambles of everything.
Calum would be returning soon, no doubt, and he would find just what he thought he would find: a useless brother who needed help from a Sassenach woman, one who didn’t even wish to stay.
The small party finally debarked onto the shore, and the soldiers grabbed Angus roughly once he stepped out of the boat. Charlotte walked slowly as if she would fall if she didn’t. But once they arrived at the Fort’s walls, Lord Darling led the way inside, Charlotte and Angus behind him. As they moved into the Hall and Charlotte was turning to go, Angus whispered to her through gritted teeth, “Why did my brother ask ye tae stay? He didnae think I could handle it myself, did he? And he was right. I am a broken man, now, nae least of all crushed by a woman whose sole purpose was tae turn me in tae the British.”
At his words, Charlotte looked like she might faint. His heart panged slightly with regret as he watched her pained expression, but he turned away, his fury masking that feeling instantly. He would not feel sorry for her after all that she’d done. Angus left, following Lord Darling into a side parlor. The soldier who had been holding onto Angus pushed him inside and stationed himself outside the room.
Angus sat down opposite Lord Darling, who gracefully and slowly lowered himself into the chair behind his desk. “Now, Angus MacLean, I am here on the King’s behalf to question you about the death of General George Whiteman.”
Angus’ heart fell.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Charlotte rushed to her room and burst into tears as soon as she was safely inside. She threw herself down on the bed. Now she had truly lost everything, for she had seen the anger flashing in Angus’ eyes as he spoke those words to her. It was as if fire was spitting forth out of his mouth. She had ruined everything. Not only had she brought trouble upon the clan by her selfish desire to spend just one more night with him, but she had also lost the admiration and respect of the man she loved with all her heart.
Even though they could never be together, Charlotte wanted him to think of her fondly, just as she would think of him as she went into her next marriage. But now, they would part in anger and resentment. She sat up in her bed as a thought came to her. If he survived long enough to part with.
She had no idea what Lord Darling had in mind for Angus, but she knew it could not be good. There was an evident pleasure in his eyes as he escorted them from the shores of Mull as if he were truly relishing putting a laird’s brother in danger and potentially leaving his clan to ruin. He had also enjoyed attempting to put her in her place. She felt humbled now, and she clasped her arms around herself as she sat up in bed, unsure of what to do next.
A soft knock sounded at the door, and Charlotte trembled out, “Come in.” Elizabeth swept inside, and when Charlotte saw her, she jumped up and brought her into an embrace. “Oh, Elizabeth! All is ruined, and ‘tis I who am to blame!”
Elizabeth wrapped her arms around her friend tightly and tried to calm her. “Dear Charlotte, I am so sorry.” They parted, and Elizabeth sat down in the chair next to the bed. “I had no idea what my father was up to. He bade me leave the room when he and the General were talking.”
Elizabeth paused, and she looked down, ashamed. “I am sorry, Charlotte. I showed them the letter you sent. I know that it was what you wanted, but you do not understand how angry my father became at the sight of it. He was enraged! I tried to defend you, but it was to no avail. It only angered him further. Once I was banished from the room, I stayed behind to listen to them.”
Charlotte’s eyes widened. “So, you know more of what this could all be about?”
“I don’t know. It was a little unclear, but my father seems to think that Angus is guilty of starting plans for a battle between the clans and the British soldiers. I’m assuming my father thinks that he means for them to band together and attack at some unknown time.”
Charlotte nodded, “Yes, Liam mentioned something about that. But that’s ridiculous! Angus has been busy trying to bring his clan back to its former glory, and then he was gravely ill!” Charlotte stood and began to pace, her despair slowly hardening into resolve.
Elizabeth continued, “I know, but he does not know that. And he wouldn’t believe it if he did know. It almost seems like he has a vendetta against the clan for some reason.”
“Oh, if only Calum and Julia would return!” Charlotte bemoaned their loss. “I know that having the true laird present would hold a little more sway against Lord Darling.”
Elizabeth nodded. “Once I heard, I rushed to see if Liam was still by the boats
. I assumed ‘twas he who brought me the letter. I was lucky enough to find him, and then I warned him. I hoped it might help somewhat.”
Charlotte turned to see a distressed Elizabeth. She rushed to her side and clasped her hands. “It did, my friend! It was good that we knew so that Angus was not surprised from his bed and seen to be so vulnerable. He had time to assemble the men. You were wise. Now, if only we could think of a plan to free Angus from your father. I had hoped that my full agreement to the marriage would be enough to let him go, but he seems determined.”
Elizabeth frowned. “Yes, my father does seem determined for you to marry. I tried to talk him out of it, but I can say that I’ve never seen my father so angry.” Charlotte looked at Elizabeth with wide eyes before bursting into laughter. It felt good, at least for a moment, to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. Elizabeth joined in.
“Elizabeth! You are changing every day. I never expected you to fight against your father for me! That means you are a true friend and growing into a rather feisty woman!”
Mending a Highland Heart: Healing him was more scandalous than she ever imagined… Page 20