by Hope Tarr
Staring into the flames dancing within the circle of stones, Jack said suddenly, “What think you of America?”
Until now Claudia had not thought much about the New World at all but glancing at Jack’s pensive profile, she saw that he’d been doing a great deal of thinking indeed. “America?” she said, testing the word on her tongue.
He nodded. “Aye, Virginia. ’Tis said the mountains there are as green and softly rolling as those of the Lowlands and in springtime the sky the same bonny blue. There’s opportunity, too, for a man who’s no afraid of hard work to make a good life for himself…and for his family.”
Once the thought of striking out on such a voyage would have daunted her but then what were a few hundred or so leagues of sea compared to all they’d been through together these last months? Smiling to herself, she could almost swear she saw the impish faces of their future children peaking out at her from the fire’s curtain. “I like the sound of it, Jack,” she said at length, lacing her fingers through his and giving his big, broad palm a squeeze. “I like it very much.”
Upon returning to the castle the next day, they learned that Lord Haversham had toddled back to England that very morning, proclaiming all Scots to be savages and himself to have made a fortunate escape from being bound in matrimony with one of them, even if she was half French. Lord Aberdaire was in his study, sitting before the fire, a rug tucked about his shrunken legs, when Jack and Claudia returned.
Turning to Jack, she whispered, “This I must do alone, chéri.” For her to be well and truly free of the past this final battle must be hers alone.
Any other man would have insisted on coming inside to give the earl his comeuppance but this was Jack, her Jack, and as always he understood her perfectly. He bent to brush his lips over hers. “I’ll await you below.”
“So you came back,” Aberdaire said when the door clicked closed behind her. He didn’t bother to turn his chair.
She drew a step closer. “I have come to bid you adieu.”
Still staring into the hearth, he nodded. “McBride?”
“He is dead.”
“So, it’s over, then?” Turning to her, he stared for a long moment and then shook his head. “Daughters are a great deal of trouble.”
Once such a statement would have brought her pain but now all she could feel was pity. She had come to Scotland in search of neither a title nor lands but a father’s affection, she now realized. That she would leave without it saddened her but, thinking of the rich, full life that lay ahead of her, the person she felt saddest for was the earl. With MacDuff dead, he was for all intents and purposes alone.
“I am to wed Jack Campbell. Although he does not expect it, I must insist you settle a dowry on me.”
Aberdaire beetled his brows. Sounding more curious than angry he asked, “And why would I do that?”
Claudia took a deep breath, girding herself. “I was there the night MacDuff came to deliver the satchel. Before Callum shot him, he admitted to having killed the courier. I suspect he did so on your behalf.”
“You’d have the devil of a time proving it.”
Holding her voice steady even as her hands shook, she answered, “Perhaps I would. But even if the connection could not be proved, I imagine that if even a whisper of such a thing were to get out, the scandal—”
“How much? How much will it take to make you disappear?”
“Hmm, let me think.” She tapped a finger to her cheek, pretending to consider, though in truth she had a nice round sum already tucked inside her head. “Callum seemed to think I was worth only one thousand pounds, but the sum I have in mind is rather closer to five thousand pounds sterling—British, of course.”
“Outrageous,” he said but she knew he would give it to her for what choice had he?
She shrugged. “Ah well, it is less than what you were prepared to grant Lord Haversham and surely Jack and I can use the money as well as he. Better, I should hope, for Jack means to establish a carpentry business.”
“A Drummond marrying into trade! What next?” Heaving a sigh, he sank back against his chair. Long fingers plucking at the coverlet, he conceded, “Verra well. I’ll contact my solicitor and have the amount of five thousand British pounds deposited into an account in Campbell’s name within the week.”
She shook her head. “That is most generous, my lord, but I am afraid I must insist upon cash.”
That got his attention. “Cash!” He stared at her.
She nodded. “Jack and I will be returning to Selkirk for the rest of this winter, but in the spring we will sail for America. Virginia.”
“I see,” he said. “Verra well, I will make the necessary arrangements.”
“Merci. Thank you,” she said and, knowing it was time, that there was nothing more to be said or done, she turned to leave.
The earl’s voice called her back. “Claudia?”
One hand on the doorknob, she turned about. “Yes, my lord?”
“Safe journey and…good luck to you.”
“Thank you…Father.”
Epilogue
The Firth of Clyde, Saltcoats, Spring 1795
Claudia and Jack bided the rest of that winter with the MacGregors, both of whom steadfastly refused to hear tell of them taking up residence in the inn. For Jack, knowing that he would, in all likelihood, never again set eyes on his birthplace or the beloved souls that dwelt there lent a bittersweet poignancy to those final weeks. At the same time he was gripped by a restless eagerness to begin carving out his and Claudia’s future. And so even though she assured him that she would gladly call Scotland home if he changed his mind about leaving it, in his heart he knew that he was right to go. Scotland was the past. Claudia—and America—were his future.
The day of their departure dawned sunny and clear, the air balmy and pregnant with the scents of the new springtime. By collective consent, Milread and Luicas and Duncan and Dorcas all had accompanied Jack and Claudia to Saltcoats where they would meet the packet boat that would carry the couple to Cork, Ireland. From there, they would set sail on one of the larger passenger ships bound for Virginia.
But now, as they congregated on the pier, Duncan’s well-rehearsed speech seemed to stick in his throat, Luicas had been stricken with the sniffles, and the women’s eyes grew dewy at the prospect of bidding a final farewell to these two dear friends.
“Och, but I’m going tae miss ye, the lot o’ ye,” exclaimed a misty-eyed Milread, looking from Jack to Claudia. “Why, I’m even going to miss these mangy beasties.” Sniffling, she patted Elf’s head, then held out the wicker basket in which One Eye and Heather nestled in perfect harmony.
Taking the basket from her, Claudia said, “Come with us, then. You might like America. Alexandria, Virginia, is a port city.” Grinning, she added, “There are certain to be sailors there.”
Dorcas wagged a reproachful finger, but her eyes were merry. “For shame, now there’s a fine thing tae say tae an affianced woman.”
Claudia and Jack looked to each other and then to Milread. Jack was the first to find his voice. “Milread, lass, can this be true?”
“Aye, it is.” Milread chuckled but her gaze softened as she admitted, “Alistair has decided tae make an honest woman of me and I’ve accepted him. Och, I ken it’s by way o’ being a surprise,” she said, taking in their stunned faces, “but the truth is I’m a wee bit fonder of the auld devil than I let on.”
“Then we wish you every happiness,” Claudia said, and reached out to embrace the woman who, like so many from the little hamlet outside Selkirk, had become her dear friend.
Jack turned to Luicas and, noting that the lad’s eyes looked suspiciously bright, clapped a hand to his shoulder. “If you’re ever minded to journey to Virginia, you’ve a home with us and the chance to learn an honest trade if you want it.”
Luicas made a face. “I thank ye, Master Jack, truly I do, but I dinna see myself as a carpenter’s apprentice.”
Duncan smiled. “Dinna
be too hasty, Luicas. Carpentry’s a fine trade and, as I’ve always said, there’s no finer hand with a knife and a bit o’ wood than Jack Campbell.”
“And not only will he make furniture but also mantelpieces, magnificent ones suitable for the finest of the plantation houses,” Claudia couldn’t resist adding, her heart swelling with love and pride.
The ship’s horn signaled that the time had come for final good-byes—and new beginnings. The journey that lay ahead would be both long and arduous but, glancing up at her beloved, Claudia knew that together they could weather any storm.
Fast losing the battle not to cry, a red-faced Luicas launched himself into Jack’s arms. “Thank you, Master Jack…for everything. I’ll ne’er forget you.”
Pressing a kiss to the tousled head, Jack set the boy from him. Hugs and final farewells made the rounds and then the little party turned and made their way back up the pier.
Their friends gone, Jack turned to Claudia and asked, “Och, lass, are you sure about this? I’m but a step above a pauper with naything to offer you but my name and the promise that I’ll work hard to make you proud of me.”
Smiling up at him, she shook her head. “You are my future, my life. And I have no doubt but we shall be quite comfortable.” At his raised brows, she patted her cloak, well padded with her dowry money. “A wedding gift from the earl,” she explained around a smile.
“I thought you looked a wee bit…broad.” Jack shook his head, a lock of red-gold hair catching on the breeze. “So you’ve kept this a secret from me all these many months?”
She hesitated. “I was not certain if you would accept it otherwise. And this way you need not wait to set up your own shop.” Watching his face, she added, “You are not angry with me?”
Jack shook his head. “Nay, I’m no angry, only wondering what other secrets you might have tucked up your sleeve.”
Claudia swallowed hard. Could it be that he’d guessed? “It may be that I have one more,” she admitted.
“You’re an amazing woman, Claudia Valemont, and proud I am to call you my own. But only think, had you stayed in Scotland, you might have been a countess.”
In answer, she rose up on her toes and wound her arms about his neck. “Mistress Jack Hamish Campbell is the only title I wish to claim…provided I may do so before we put into port at Alexandria.”
A fat tear rolled down the side of his face, slipping over the ledge of chin and jaw to disappear into his neck cloth. “I love you, my Claudia, with all my heart, all my mind, all my body, all that I am and may yet become. I’ll marry you this verra moment if that is what you wish, though ’twas you, stubborn as a stone, who said you wanted to wait for a proper wedding in our new homeland.”
“Well, that was before…”
“Before?”
She nodded and, schooling her features to innocence, answered in the Scots brogue she’d been mentally practicing all that morning. “Och, laddie, I maun ask ye tae make an honest woman o’ me before our wee lad or lassie begins tae show.”
“Claudia?” Eyes popping, he reached out and laid a light hand on her still flat belly. “Are you certain?”
Dropping the burr, she answered, “I cannot be completely so for another week or so but yes, in my heart I know it to be true.” She searched his stunned face. “You…you are pleased?”
“Pleased? Pleased!”
His sudden whoop dispelled her last niggling doubt and more. Heedless of his mending ribs, Jack swept her off her feet and into his arms.
“‘Pleased’ doesna begin to account for all that I feel. Humbled to be sure, but also so verra grateful, no to mention happier than I’ve any right to be.” Looking up into her face, he promised, “I’ll go and seek out the ship’s captain the verra moment we take up anchor. If I have my way, and I mean to, we’ll be wed before the day’s out, and then never shall we be parted again, mo chride. Bide we in Scotland, America or France even, while I’ve yet breath in my lungs you shall be at my side and I at yours.”
A second call to board and Claudia’s plea that she needed to breathe finally persuaded him to set her down. He brushed a kiss over her brow and then stepped back to offer her his arm. “Shall we, mo chride?”
Dizzy with love, heart too full for further speech, Claudia laid her hand atop his. “Lead the way, my love.”
Arms linked, souls intertwined, they joined the stream of their fellow passengers starting up the gangplank, eager to put the shadows of the past behind them and embark on a new life together in the New World.
About the Author
Hope Tarr is the award-winning author of more than a dozen contemporary and historical romance novels, including The Tutor (Harlequin Blaze Historical, July 2010). Her first novella, “Tomorrow’s Destiny,” appears in A Harlequin Christmas Carol with Betina Krahn and Jacquie D’Alessandro (December 2010).
Hope is also one of four founders of Lady Jane’s Salon, New York City’s first—and so far only—monthly romance fiction reading series. Since its launch in February 2009, the Salon and Hope have been featured in the New York Post, Time Out New York, and RT Book Reviews.
You can find Hope online at www.HopeTarr.com, where she runs an author blog and regular monthly contest, as well as on social networking sites such as Twitter and Facebook.
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ISBN: 978-1-4268-9041-3
This is the revised text of a work first published by Berkley in 2002.
Copyright © 2002 by Hope Tarr
Copyright © 2010 by Hope Tarr
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