Romancing the Scot (The Pennington Family)

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Romancing the Scot (The Pennington Family) Page 21

by May McGoldrick


  Hugh glanced back at the jail door, looking like he was ready to go back in there. “Did they tell you anything?”

  “The two had plenty to say, but Quint is a hard one.”

  “What reason did they give for the attack?” Hugh pressed. “Why come here and wait on a country lane? They’d be fools to call that a big job.”

  Grace could see he was growing angrier by the minute.

  “That’s the most interesting part,” Truscott continued. “They said Quint’s brother, a manservant, came to him with the offer of good money to snatch a particular woman and deliver her to a spot on the Jedburgh road just south of Melrose. They were paid a few shillings up front, and they were to get equal shares of fifteen pounds on delivery.”

  “A manservant to whom?” Hugh demanded.

  “They didn’t know, and Quint has yet to talk. The two described him, though. Said he was tall and had a cast in his right eye.”

  Grace knew that no manservant would be paying that much money for her abduction. He had to be acting on behalf of his master.

  “I’ll have the bailiff search out every estate from Berwick to Edinburgh,” Hugh said to her. “We’ll find out who was behind this. Until then . . .”

  A carriage drawn by four horses clattered into the village at high speed. As the chariot raced past them, Grace saw a round face peering from the window suddenly cry out to the driver to stop.

  No sooner had the driver reined in his team than a rotund gentleman leaped from the carriage and hurried back to where they were standing. Hugh’s face darkened as the man approached.

  “Lord Greysteil,” the man called. “I was just at Baronsford. Your sister told me I would find you here.”

  “Lord Nithsdale,” Hugh replied in an icy tone.

  Lady Nithsdale’s husband, Grace thought. The other half, for better or for worse.

  “I need a moment to speak with you, if you can spare—”

  “We’re busy,” Hugh growled threateningly. “This is not the time.”

  Nithsdale took an involuntary step back, then seemed to notice for the first time that the viscount was not alone. He nodded to Truscott and glanced at Grace. “Oh, is this . . . ? Would your lordship be so kind as to introduce your guest?”

  The lord justice’s hesitation was intimidating. In spite of the difference in rank, there was no question in Grace’s mind that the viscount was in charge here.

  Hugh introduced her as “Miss Grace Ware,” but his words were clipped, and his anger was palpable.

  “Now, if you’ll excuse us,” he snapped, turning away from the earl.

  “If you have just a moment to spare, my business is quite important. You see, my—”

  Hugh cut him off. “I’ve just told you this is not the time, Nithsdale. You think your business is always paramount in importance, but I am at present engaged in official business.”

  Grace marveled at Nithsdale’s change in attitude. He suddenly looked like an errant, groveling schoolboy asking the master for permission to relinquish his dunce cap and rejoin the class.

  “If you could spare just a moment?” he persisted meekly. “This pertains to Mrs. Douglas.”

  Hugh clenched and unclenched his fists, glaring at Nithsdale. “Say it.”

  The earl looked even less sure of himself, but she could see he was already in too deep.

  “Perhaps if Truscott and Miss Grace would excuse us for a moment?”

  Hugh steered Nithsdale a few steps away, but they were still near enough that she could hear their conversation.

  The earl fumbled with his words for a moment. “Pray, take no offence, but I need to ask you what you said to the woman.”

  “Bloody hell,” Hugh growled.

  “I apologize that I’ve caught you at a bad time.” Nithsdale glanced at the jail door. “But . . . well, my wife is all in a dither. Her friend returned from Baronsford yesterday in a bit of a huff, where I’m told she spoke with you, and then packed her bags and left!”

  “Left where?” Hugh asked sharply.

  “I don’t really know. London, I think. The woman made some excuse about being called to help with some fashion crisis or other. Some letter had arrived, she said. But no letter came for her, so the whole thing is a mystery to me. In any event, the woman went off, Lady Nithsdale is all at sixes and sevens. So here I am, chasing shadows while the best salmon run the Tweed has seen in years is happening without me. Again, I apologize for detaining you, m’lord, but please understand my position. My wife . . .”

  Why the hasty departure, Grace thought, unless Mrs. Douglas was behind the attack.

  “Did she travel with servants?” Hugh asked.

  “Of course. Several.”

  “A manservant?”

  Nithsdale stared for a moment, then thought about the question. “Let me see. Yes, a driver and a manservant, along with her maid.”

  “What did the manservant look like?”

  “See here, I don’t know that I ever looked twice at the man.”

  “Think, Nithsdale.”

  “We should speak with my driver. He should . . .” The earl paused nervously. “Wait, now that I think of it, there was one thing I recall. The man had a cast in one eye. Couldn’t tell if he was looking at you or looking at something behind you. Bloody annoying, I should think.”

  Chapter 25

  Schemes. Abduction. Possibly even murder. All for a diamond.

  Night had fallen by the time they left the village to return to Baronsford. After Lord Nithsdale had scurried off to his chariot and departed, Hugh had excused himself and gone into the bailiff’s house. While they waited, Grace had accompanied Truscott to the inn where she nibbled at something while the estate manager dined and they had a chance to talk.

  Now, with Truscott and the rest of the Baronsford men following along in carts and on the horseback, Grace sat beside Hugh as the carriage rolled along the wooded lane, surrounded by darkness. Far ahead, she could see a lamp swinging in the hand of one of the grooms who’d accompanied Truscott to the mines.

  Grace had so many questions. She’d waited for an opportunity like this, where the others wouldn’t hear them, but Hugh was deep in thought.

  Mrs. Douglas’s involvement was difficult to understand. From all accounts, the woman lacked for nothing. As the recent widow of a highly placed minister, she traveled in the elite echelons of government leaders and the haute ton. She had a comfortable fortune that allowed her to live as she pleased. Perhaps when it came to greed, Grace thought, she had indeed led a sheltered life.

  Or maybe this attack was not about wealth, at all.

  Fears and speculations about her father were also nagging at her. She’d always been a dutiful daughter, believing that Daniel Ware was an honorable and self-sacrificing man, incapable of wrongdoing. But there was so much about this jewel that bothered her.

  “I don’t know what to think anymore.” The words were spoken aloud and drew Hugh from his reveries.

  “About my father,” Grace continued. “I cannot resolve in my mind if this diamond was intended as a gift to Queen Julie from her husband, or if it was meant to fund the emperor’s followers. And did my father know the danger surrounding it?”

  “Thinking of him not as a military commander, but as a loving father, I cannot imagine him knowingly exposing you to dangers he couldn’t protect you from. I prefer to believe he was as ignorant as you were of the diamond we found sewn into your dress.”

  “I want to believe that,” she agreed. “To be sure, Daniel Ware was no expert in women’s fashions. I know for sure that in all his years as an only parent, not once did he speak to a dressmaker. No. If he wanted to hide a jewel he was charged with delivering, there were a dozen other ways he would have considered. He wore a money belt; why not keep it there? Or the small chest we traveled with? It had a false bottom for documents and would easily have held the diamond. It may even have fit in the hollowed-out head of his cane. I believe you have hit on the answer. He simply c
ouldn’t have known.”

  He took her cold hand in his and brought it to his lips. She was so grateful he understood that, regardless of her own doubts, she was still her father’s daughter. And distrusting him wounded her. She would not believe, now that he was gone, that his love was all a lie. Her father wouldn’t knowingly put her in danger. But the question of who secreted the diamond in her dress remained unanswered.

  Grace’s mind returned to Mrs. Douglas and her hasty departure from the Borders.

  “But how did Mrs. Douglas know we were carrying the diamond? I’m certain she didn’t travel from America on the same ship, and she wasn’t in Philadelphia while we were there, to my knowledge.” But the woman did know about the jewel, and it angered Grace to think how close she’d come to being ensnared in her net.

  “I find it hard to believe she was working alone. She may have had correspondents in America. But as far as her motive for any of this . . .” He shook his head. “The more I think about it, the more inconceivable it becomes that she would expose herself to ruin the way she has simply to steal a diamond.”

  Light from the rising moon filtered through the trees and passed over his face. He was again immersed in his thoughts.

  When Hugh joined them at the inn, he’d told her and Truscott that he’d issued orders by express to the constables and the military commanders at Newcastle, Carlisle, and York to take Mrs. Douglas into custody when she traveled through going south. Truscott had predicted that, as lord justice, he would see to it that she was pursued all the way to London. He’d also hinted that Hugh considered the attack on Grace to be a personal attack on himself, and “God help the woman when he finds her.”

  Grace’s mind returned to his proposal. Even now, she wondered if, at some forgotten moment in her history, she’d done something exceptionally good for someone. Or if, without knowing it, she’d been blessed by some kind person who’d wished her well in life. It had to be the latter, she thought, for she certainly didn’t deserve this happiness. To fall in love with this magnificent man and have him reciprocate her affection and even ask for her hand in marriage . . . ? It was too much. Her heart yearned for him, and yet ached at the same time.

  She could lose him. Hugh’s request might be denied, and Grace would not ruin his life for the sake of her own happiness. But for today and tomorrow and for every day until an answer from his Prince Regent arrived, she would allow herself to bask in the glow of happy thoughts of a future.

  Grace stole another glance at Hugh. The tension in his face and his shoulders had not eased. A pang of guilt stabbed at her. Here she was, daydreaming about a life that she might never have while he fretted over her present circumstances.

  “Mrs. Douglas has a day’s head start. Do you think they’ll find her?”

  “Not between here and London,” he said, turning his attention to her. “She lied to Nithsdale about her destination to throw off any pursuers. But I couldn’t take the chance. If Mrs. Douglas’s involvement ties her to Antwerp or America, she won’t stay in England. Regardless of her connections, she was frightened enough to run. I would wager she fled toward either Edinburgh or Glasgow yesterday.”

  “Where she can board a ship,” Grace concluded. Of course, this made sense. At least two men were in shackles who would gladly testify against the woman’s manservant. If her man in turn informed on Mrs. Douglas, she’d have nowhere to hide in England or Scotland, in spite of her wealth and position.

  “Before we left, I also sent orders to the Master of Police in Glasgow, and to the Chief Constable in Edinburgh to have their men watch for her and to check every outgoing ship’s passenger list,” he explained. “But again, she’s too smart to travel under her own name.”

  And it would be easy to disappear once she set sail. Grace’s family had mastered the art decades ago. There were many who gladly offered shelter to anyone at odds with England.

  “What will happen if she does get away?” she asked.

  Moonlight shone full on his face when he looked at her, and she could read the concern there.

  “Whether she’s captured or not, I don’t believe you are out of danger. Others must be involved. We’re not done with this.”

  “But I wish to be done with it,” she said, speaking from her heart. “I know nothing of this diamond or its value. I want to be rid of it.”

  His arm slipped around her, and he drew her closer to his side. “I am sorry. I wish I could make it go away.”

  An old thought lingered at the edge of her mind. “I’d like to send a letter to Queen Julie.”

  “Let’s not begin that again,” he said pleadingly. “I am not letting you go to Brussels.”

  She leaned her head against his shoulder, knowing that after the words they’d spoken today, after his proposal, she couldn’t go. That is, she wouldn’t go unless she was forced to.

  “I need only to send a letter and explain what happened in Antwerp and tell her that I’m here. I’ll make no mention of the diamond,” she told him. “This way, if the jewel was intended to go to the queen—if my father was indeed doing a favor for Joseph—then she’ll tell me.”

  His lips brushed against her brow. “Very well, do it. Write the letter. But I’m telling you now that if she writes back and asks where the diamond is, she’ll need to send her own courier to retrieve it. You will not be risking your life to deliver it.”

  “That sounds fair,” she agreed. Grace stole a kiss from his lips when he smiled down at her.

  They were hidden from the others by the night and the gloom of the woods, but still there was a chance that those who rode behind had espied what she’d just done. She didn’t care. An impenetrable veil obscured the future, but for today and tomorrow and however many days belonged to them, there was no weight on her heart. She loved Hugh and he loved her. These were the only essential truths she needed right now.

  The woods parted ahead and Baronsford came into view. Torches flared, illuminating the front courtyard even at this distance. Candles flickered in a dozen windows. Jo was making certain that the warm light of welcome shone into the darkness. Grace thought of her and the pleasing possibility of having Jo as a sister. She imagined the moment when she would hear the news.

  Grace pulled away from Hugh’s side and straightened her skirt. But that couldn’t happen. Not yet. His gaze searched her face.

  “If you please, we need to keep any word of . . . of our attachment private.”

  “You’re saying I shouldn’t tell Jo.”

  “I believe it would be easier. If the Prince Regent’s decision is not what you want, the less we need to explain, the better for everyone.” Grace knew her friend hoped she and Hugh would form this attachment. Jo would be very disappointed if she thought there had been a chance that didn’t work out.

  “Believe what you will, but my head will be delivered on a platter if Jo hasn’t been informed of our news before my parents arrive.”

  Grace’s heart sank. “When are your parents arriving?”

  “Let me see. They left London when Jo did. They’ve been touring the Lake Country and visiting friends there. The letter I sent should reach them by tomorrow latest.” He flashed her a smile. “They should be here by Tuesday.”

  “You told them?”

  “Of course. They are my parents. I couldn’t very well announce to the Prince Regent our intention to marry and not tell them.”

  Grace drew a deep breath. She’d have done the same thing in his position. She’d never have kept such news from her father.

  “What if I’d refused?”

  He leaned toward her. His lips were a whisper away. “After last night, there was no chance of that.”

  She loved this man. He already knew her too well.

  “But nothing is definite. No planning. No hoping,” she reminded him. “Perhaps you can write to your parents again and explain the logic behind my thinking.”

  “I’m afraid there’s very little chance of that.”

  “But . . .�
�� As she started to argue, he kissed her lips, silencing her.

  “And Jo has to be told,” he continued. “I’m quite certain that within moments of reading that letter, my mother will have written to the rest of the family.”

  Grace covered her face with her hands. But there were still too many things that could go wrong. The Prince Regent’s decision was crucial, but she worried about Hugh’s family’s reaction. Lord and Lady Aytoun might not want a penniless, Scots-Irish rebel as a daughter-in-law. Talk about scandal.

  Hugh reined in the horses and peeled her hands off her face. They’d arrived at Baronsford.

  “Don’t worry, my love. I’ll find the right moment and soften Jo up before I give her our news. But you should know that she’ll be the most difficult one to win over.”

  * * *

  Hugh and Jo went off in the morning to attend the Sunday service, but Grace decided to stay at Baronsford. She was a stranger here, and she could only guess at the rumors circulating about her. Still, if she could help it, she didn’t want to bring any extra attention to herself or the Penningtons. She had no desire to meet the local gentry at church right now, for it would surely mean subsequent social calls, and she preferred to remain in the shadows.

  Escaping to Hugh’s study, she buried her head in the law books. She had more to do in her research for the Campbell case. When she looked up several hours later, the sun was streaming in the windows.

  Grace had no doubt she’d face plenty of scrutiny once Hugh’s parents arrived. She’d only been at Baronsford for less than a month. She wouldn’t fault Lord and Lady Aytoun if they worried whether their son had formed a connection too hastily. Any good parent would worry about her motive. Hugh was a prize for any woman, but they might not find her to be good enough for their heir.

  Grace loved him. And she knew his matching words were the absolute truth. But that wasn’t enough. Her background, her parentage, her family’s affiliation with the French emperor and his brother and Queen Julie. The list went on endlessly, and their objections could as well. Grace would be terribly naïve if she thought they would be pleased to have their son marry someone like her.

 

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