Chapter 25
A few hours later, with the money from the vault safely retrieved and stowed away in a large trunk that had already been loaded into the carriage, Victoria was helping Camdyn and Genevieve with the last few items from the study. With the aid of the staff, it had taken far less time than Victoria had imagined.
We may escape Mr. Spencer and Camdyn’s enemies, after all.
She had been so busy that there had been little time to worry about the alternative, but those thoughts were beginning to creep back in, now that they were so close to getting away from this manor. Still, she was determined to remain optimistic, until proven otherwise.
“Did you have any other belongings that you wish to take?” she asked Genevieve, as Camdyn walked off with two heavy trunks on each shoulder. The handsome, fierce warrior had barely broken a sweat.
I remember when you could not even sit up without perspiring, and when attempting to walk made you wince.
So much had happened between their first chance meeting, and the endeavor they were about to undertake. Sometimes, she forgot that there was a vulnerability to him, that only she and Genevieve had witnessed. A man such as him never liked to show weakness, but the hidden softness beneath his hardened exterior was one of her favorite parts about him.
“Are you even listening to me?” Genevieve barked, with a roll of her eyes. “Let me guess, you were thinking about the great ox of a man who’s just wandered off?”
Victoria grimaced. “Apologies, Genevieve.”
“What are you apologizing for? If I had a man like that to gawp at, I’d never pay attention to anything else,” she teased.
Victoria mustered a smile. “I thought you would be furious with me, for finding love with him. I was so afraid of telling you, though I thought about it often.”
“You should know by now, M’Lady, that there’s nothing you could say to me that would make me think any less of you. You’re like a daughter to me, and I’d follow you to the pits of Hell if you asked me to.” She smirked. “In truth, I’m not entirely sure that the Highlands are too far off Hell.”
Victoria nudged her confidante in the arm. “Genevieve! You have never been to the Highlands, so you cannot judge it. From what Camdyn tells me, it is exceptionally beautiful.”
“Hmm… we’ll see about that.” Genevieve stooped to pick up a lighter crate of garments. “As for your first question, there’s nothing else I need to take. I’ve already loaded what’s important.”
Victoria nodded. “Then we just have this last case, and we will be ready to depart.” She picked up the article in question and clutched it to her chest. “You know, I do believe I shall miss this place. I loathed it when I first arrived, but I have become fond of it over time. I shall certainly miss my patients. I hope they do not suffer too much without me.”
“If they do, they can blame the English soldiers who’ve been hounding Mr. McKay,” Genevieve remarked tersely. “And I hope they show that Mr. Spencer just what they think of him.”
Victoria stared through the open study door, toward the entrance hall. “Have you remembered where you might have seen him before?”
“It’s the most infuriating thing,” Genevieve replied. “It’s dancing on the tip of my tongue, but I can’t get it to tumble off. He’s just so familiar!”
“It is the eyes,” Victoria agreed. “I am certain I have seen them before.”
Genevieve turned to her. “You said he was the fourth son of a Baron, didn’t you?”
“That is what he said.”
Genevieve pursed her lips. “You see, that is what perturbs me the most. I can’t even think where we would have encountered someone with such low status before. It wouldn’t have been at any London gatherings, and your mother and father were always very particular about whom they invited to the house, so you could marry well.”
“Speaking of which, I do not know what I will tell Mama and my sister, nor do I know when it will be safe to correspond with them.” Victoria sighed wearily, thinking of the only family she had left. “What if my actions leave them destitute?”
Genevieve rested the crate upon her hip and rested a comforting hand on Victoria’s shoulder. “They won’t, M’Lady. Your mother should still have a substantial quantity of money from the funds you were sending, and your father’s coffers weren’t even close to empty when he died. And, in due course, your sister will marry, and the responsibility will fall to her instead of you. I think that’s only fair.”
“I suppose I can still send them money when we are established in the Highlands,” Victoria added.
“Exactly. You have nothing to worry about except your own happiness.” Genevieve smiled warmly. “After a decade of unhappiness, you have earned your right to joy.”
Victoria choked back tears and set down the last case, so she could enfold Genevieve in her arms. They did not often embrace, but this seemed like a moment to show her confidante just how much she adored her.
“Thank you, Genevieve.” Victoria wrapped her arms around the older woman and held her tight, despite the sharp corners of the crate getting in the way. “I do not know what I would have done, all these years, without you.”
Genevieve put her free arm around Victoria and squeezed back in response. “We’d both have been more miserable; I can say that for sure. Perhaps, once we’re settled, I’ll be able to have some leisure of me own. I might even find myself a wizened old Scot who’ll have me for a wife.”
“That would make me happier than I can put into words.” Victoria chuckled, wondering if such a thing might be possible. After all, if she deserved another chance at life, then Genevieve certainly did, too.
They had just broken apart, and Victoria had retrieved the last case, when a man that Victoria did not know came running across the entrance hall. He skidded to a halt in front of the study door, his shirt drenched with sweat, and a vivid red cut glaring upon his cheek.
“Who are you? What are you doing in my house?” Victoria’s heart clenched in panic. This stranger wore simple clothes and no military insignia, but that did not mean he had good intentions.
Genevieve wielded her wooden crate as though she meant to do real harm. “You’d better answer My Lady, before I bring this down on your head!”
A moment later, Camdyn came running up behind the man, the two of them blocking the doorway.
“This is Murdock. The pal that I told ye about,” Camdyn explained rapidly, while the friend stooped to get his breath back. “He’s just come from the town. I told him to wait a minute, but he ran off.”
Murdock offered Camdyn an apologetic look. “There was nae time for waitin’. They’re comin’ for the two of ye, M’Lady. I heard it from one of me wee spies. They’re on their way, as we speak,” he wheezed. “And they’re bein’ led by some lad by the name of Spencer.”
“Who are coming?” Genevieve shot back, lowering the crate. Meanwhile, Victoria clasped at her waist, struggling to breathe as her stays and throat joined forces to constrict her intake of air.
“I dinnae ken ‘em. They are nae Sassenach soldiers that I’ve seen afore,” Murdock panted. “Me spy said he saw coin change hands, so I’d say they’re mercenaries.”
Victoria looked to Camdyn. “Mercenaries?” she gasped through the restriction of her stays. “Why would Mr. Spencer have hired mercenaries to come here? Does he really mean to dispose of you, Camdyn?”
“Our lad’s got a hefty price on his heed,” Murdock replied. “I’d say yer man, Spencer, wants to get himself the honor of bringin’ in the ‘Devil of Culloden Moor.’ Sly lad. If he’d gone to the soldiers, he’d have had to fight for the reward. This way, he’s already paid for the right to claim victory.”
Victoria shook her head effusively. “No, that cannot be it. Mr. Spencer has no way of knowing that Camdyn is this man they believe to be Bonnie Prince Charlie’s right-hand. He has only just arrived in Inverness.”
“Word travels quick, M’Lady.” Murdock leaned against the do
orjamb, his breathing steady again. “And that Vickers lad has been shoutin’ his mouth off about Camdyn bein’ here. Swears blind to everyone who’ll listen that he’s Bonnie Prince Charlie’s accomplice. It wouldnae have been hard for Spencer to hear about it and put some pieces together.”
Thinking as fast as she could, despite her mind trying to stall, she walked right up to Murdock and gripped his hands tight. “I need you to do something for me.”
“Aye, M’Lady. I’m ready to fight for me pal.” Murdock squared his shoulders, but Victoria shook her head.
“No, I do not need you to fight. You say that word spreads quickly. If that is the case, I need you to inform your spies, and anyone who is loyal to you who has a particularly loud mouth, that the Countess of Desiglow is under threat.” Victoria did not know if her plan would work, but she had to try. If they escaped in the carriage now, they would only be pursued.
Murdock frowned. “If ye say so, I’ll do as ye ask.”
“You must be as swift as you can, and do not allow yourself to be seen by Mr. Spencer and his mercenaries,” Victoria insisted.
Murdock dipped his head in a nod. “I’ll be on me way, then.” He turned to Camdyn and clapped him hard on the shoulder. “Dinnae go dyin’ on me now, Camdyn. I am nae about to bury another loaf for ye.”
Camdyn smiled stiffly. “Ye will nae have to, Murdock. If I can get Spencer to scarper, the rest of ‘em will follow. They will nae fight for the coin they’ve already earned if they dinnae have to.”
“Aye, that’s mercenaries for ye.” Murdock snorted and sprinted away without another word.
“Victoria, Genevieve, ye should go to the kitchens.” Camdyn walked straight to his love and held her face in his hands. “Take the rest of the lasses on the staff and hide in the cellar ‘til I tell ye it’s safe to come out. If I dinnae come for ye, then… just stay there longer, or make a run for it across the gardens. And tell any of the lads who’re willin’, to get ready.”
Victoria covered her hands with his. “What are you going to do?”
“If it’s a fight that Spencer wants, then he’s goin’ to get one.” Camdyn pressed his lips to Victoria’s forehead, evidently conscious that Genevieve was watching. “Like I said to him, all I need to do is get Spencer to back off, and the mercenaries will go away on their own. They get their coin, either way.”
Victoria shook her head. “You should let me speak with Mr. Spencer first. I may be able to get him to listen to reason.”
“I am nae goin’ to take that chance.” Camdyn pulled away from her. “Get yerselves hidden. I’m goin’ to fetch me broadsword, and I’m goin’ to meet Spencer at the gates. Do ye ken if they’re locked or not?”
Victoria gulped. “They are always locked at this time of day, but I… will have someone make sure.” In truth, she intended to check for herself, but she did not want to say that to him. If he realized she did not plan to hide away, he might put her over his shoulder and carry her to the cellar himself.
“Aye, that’s a good idea.” He kissed her on the forehead once more and left the study. Above her, Victoria heard the sound of his boots pounding up the staircase, but she did not know where he had concealed the sword.
Genevieve’s hand shot out to grab Victoria’s. “You’re not going to listen to him, are you?”
“You know me too well, Genevieve.” She extricated her confidante’s fingers from hers. “If there is any way that I can prevent bloodshed, then I will. I will not sit idly by, trembling in a cellar while the man that I love clashes with this… usurper.”
Genevieve rolled her eyes. “Then I suppose I should get us some knives from the kitchen, so we aren’t empty-handed. The cook has a savage left-hook on her, too. I’ll see if she’s willing to stand with us.”
“Thank you, Genevieve.” Victoria paused just shy of the study’s threshold. “But please make sure the maids take refuge in the cellar. I do not like the thought of them being embroiled in this.”
“I will, M’Lady.”
Satisfied, Victoria darted across the entrance hall alone. At the front door, she glanced back over her shoulder to make sure that Camdyn was not on the landing to see what she was doing. Finding it vacant, she opened the door and slipped out, running across the front courtyard until she reached the gate.
There, as it was every day at this hour, she found that the key had been turned in the gate’s lock and the bolt had been drawn across. It was not much of a stronghold, but it would be enough to hold William and his men back for a while.
“Now, all I have to do is wait.” She drew in a nervous breath, as her gaze turned toward the carriage that rested beneath the shadow of the apple tree cluster. If they had only finished loading it an hour earlier, they might have made it without interruption. How many things had she insisted on bringing that she could have done without?
She cursed under her breath, feeling a strange fire swelling in her stomach. She knew she could never understand how it felt to stand on a battlefield, watching the enemy approach, armed to the teeth. But this felt like it might be similar.
If you want what does not belong to you, Mr. Spencer, then you must come and take it. But I promise you, you will not have it all.
No man, other than Camdyn, would ever lay claim to her again.
Chapter 26
With his trusty broadsword back where it belonged, in his hand, Camdyn charged out of the house. He halted just shy of the gate as he saw Victoria standing there, facing out, her demeanor strong and unafraid of what was coming.
“What are ye doin’, lass? Get inside!” he urged, adjusting his grip on the worn hilt.
Victoria flashed him a determined smile. “I will not, my love. I will stand with you until this usurper leaves. He may be brazen, but he will not hurt me, and he will not instruct his mercenaries to hurt me, either. After all, he wants me in one piece.”
“Lass, it is nae safe!” Camdyn bordered on pleading, as he put his hand to her neck, stroking her skin gently with his thumb. “For me, will ye just go inside and hide?”
Victoria moved closer and leaned into him. “I have already made my decision, Camdyn. You will not change my mind. I wish to speak with him first, in the hopes that I may get him to relent. If he does not, then I shall step back, but I will not leave you to do this alone.” She peered up at him. “It is my battle as much as it is yours, if not more so.”
“Och, ye’re stubborn as a donkey.” He growled in the back of his throat, but he knew there was nothing he could do. One of his love’s keenest habits was her stubbornness, and short of carrying her back to the house himself, he would have to let her try and talk to William.
Just then, he heard the scuffle of shoes behind him. Surprised, he turned in time to see the entire household coming out in force, to defend their mistress. Men and women both, clutching kitchen knives, rolling pins, and makeshift cudgels of splintering wood.
Genevieve led the pack, looking the most fearsome with a cleaver in her hand. Even Camdyn might have considered running from that sight.
This is the effect ye have on the people ye meet, and the people ye take care of. When ye’re in danger, they’ll rally to ye, as loyal as any army.
He had forgotten that Victoria’s generosity and kindness did not solely fall upon him. These people had known Victoria long before he arrived at this house, and even though they could have ratted Camdyn out at any time, they had kept their silence, for the sake of their mistress. The woman who treated them more like family than servants. Now, they were coming to her aid once again, in her time of need. Truly, it was a special image to witness.
“They are here,” Victoria whispered, her eyes fixed on the gate.
Camdyn returned his attention to the sight ahead, though he could not make out anyone approaching. Perhaps, she had heard something that he had not, or she had sensed William somehow. After all, the sun had just about set, casting impenetrable shadows on the road beyond. Until the enemy stepped into the pool of light that sh
one from the manor, he would not be able to see them.
Livin’ in this house and bein’ loved by this amazin’ lass has dulled me fightin’ senses.
And he would not have changed that the for the world, though he sorely wished he had been able to get her out of here before William had rallied his own troops.
“They are approaching,” Victoria murmured, balling her hands into nervous fists.
Sure enough, a minute later, the dense shadows bent and stretched like nightmarish beasts, and twenty men emerged from the darkness. William stood at the front of the regiment, a flintlock pistol gripped in his hand.
His eyelids flickered in confusion as he observed the scene on the other side of the gate. “Lady Desiglow, I have returned as I promised,” he announced, shaking the gate to gauge whether or not it was locked. “By law, I must insist that you open these gates and allow me inside my property.”
Highlander's Fallen Angel : A Steamy Scottish Historical Romance Novel Page 22