Love Saves A Highland Spy: Ladies of Dunmore Series (A Medieval Scottish Romance Story)

by Freya, Bridget

  “Aye, it sounds like a great time,” Francis said, agreeing to go on the ride.

  It had been ten years since Donal and Francis had seen one another. When they were young their faithers had been friends, but time had caused them to drift apart until now, in a time when all Scots had to band together in the midst of oppression.

  “Great, we leave in an hour. Will ye be ready by then?” Donal asked.

  Francis nodded. “Aye, I can do that. I’ll meet ye at the stables,” he confirmed.

  Glad to have plans and relieved that he was able to interact with some of the young men, Francis returned to his room to change his clothes. He wanted to be ready quickly and then spend some time grooming his horse before the ride started.

  Francis had never gone out riding in Edinburgh. It would be an entirely new experience to go with these men along the outskirts of the city.

  Perhaps it wasn’t the wisest idea. They were clearly a band of Scotsmen riding near lands that the English had overrun. However, they would be far enough out that they probably wouldn’t have to worry too much.

  Francis made himself ready and returned to the stables, where he brushed his horse. The brown beast with a black mane had been with him for years. He was Francis’ favorite, the only horse he would ride if he had the opportunity.

  On rare occasions, he had had to ride another, but Francis was never quite so satisfied as when he had his own steed to take him from one place to another.

  Slowly, one by one, men arrived, ready for the hunt. Francis quickly noticed that they had all been having the same concerns about riding around a Hanoverian occupied city and were wearing their garments in the English fashion, just as he had done.

  He laughed to himself, relieved that they had all considered this and no one would be so easily inclined to question them as if they were all going about in highland dress.

  That would have been especially dangerous for Francis. Enough men had seen him at the castle, and he had spoken with enough men while in the city, that it would have been terribly imprudent of him to now show himself for a spy.

  Once all the men had arrived and readied their horses, they set out for the hunt.

  Francis was relieved to feel the breeze against his face again. It had been such a long time since he had enjoyed a ride. Now here they were, ready to find a beast for dinner. Something to hold them over for a few days, knowing they had caught it themselves.

  Francis had not tasted venison in a good long while.

  “Keep quiet as ye can, lad,” called one of the men, rather loudly, defeating his own purpose. Francis didn’t mind. It wasn’t only about catching the meat; it was about the freedom of tracking it, on horseback, with other men.

  Francis had not seen Arabella since the night of the dinner. The previous day he had not seen her for even a moment, nor heard of her day and all of her comings and goings. Had she seen his grandmother as was planned?

  Francis missed her, and desired her company. Hunts were not the place for women, but it didn’t matter to him. She was unlike other women. She was an enigma completely unto herself, and Francis thought she would be just the sort of lass who would join men in their hunt if she had only been given the opportunity.

  It was painfully unfair that women didn’t have such opportunities. There was little Francis could do to change the minds of all these men here when his own thoughts had only recently begun pondering about it.

  Perhaps Arabella would have no interest at all in a hunt. Perhaps he was only considering it because he wished she were with him now.

  Francis followed, right in the middle of the gentry, where they had gone deep into the woods. In that moment, one of the men in the front stopped his horse suddenly.

  Francis looked ahead. He could see it through the trees--a garrison of Hanoverian soldiers. This had been his fear. He hoped with all his might that none of the men would give them away.

  The Jacobite warriors looked at one another, each nodding his own confirmation that he would not draw attention to their small group. If they were discovered, they would give nothing away.

  They were mere Englishmen, Hanoverians themselves. That was the story they all knew to tell while they were here in the city. It was no secret. Nevertheless, it was best they not be discovered at all.

  Praying that not a horse would snort, Francis was relieved to see that the Hanoverian garrison was departing the forest in the opposite direction. So long as they kept moving, there was no reason for them to come back to check on their group.

  Soon afterward, they had vanished. The Hanoverians were gone and the land, once again, belonged to the Scotsmen.

  At the same time, the men all breathed a sigh of relief. They could continue their hunt, they could keep going and finally not worry about being the ones hunted. There was nothing to prevent them now from enjoying their time.

  Or so they hoped.

  Francis knew that if one regiment of Hanoverian soldiers was out, it was certainly possible that more could show up at any moment.

  He chose to try and hope for the best…Even if it was a challenge and he was understandably concerned.

  Francis realized how horrible it would have been if they had been caught and he’d not had an opportunity to say goodbye to Arabella, a chance to spend one more evening with her, kiss her once more. It was an awful thought to ponder.

  Donal sidled up to him, close and quiet in a way that left Francis uneasy.

  “A bit of a close call, wasnae it?” he asked.

  “Aye,” Francis nodded. “I feared before we left that they might be out in numbers just now.”

  “Me too. Sometimes it doesnae seem wise to enjoy ourselves, but we have to do it anyway. I mean really, if we dinnae enjoy ourselves, what is the point of any of it?” Donal asked with a laugh.

  Francis sighed. “I’ve been asking meself that very question.”

  “Och, I see ye’ve got something on yer mind?” Donal prodded.

  Francis looked up at him, showing a hint of embarrassment that he had been so obvious. For a moment he tried to stammer out a reason for his words, but finally, Francis gave up and confessed the truth. “Aye. I suppose it’s been on me mind quite some time,” he admitted.

  “And what is it that’s been so heavy on yer mind?” Donal asked.

  “A lass, of course,” Francis confessed with a slight laugh.

  “I presumed as much. What sort of lass is she?” he asked.

  “Not like any sort, if ye can imagine it. She’s completely her own. A woman of strength, beauty, wit. She is confident and brave, but also vulnerable and not immune to struggles,” Francis said, listing the characteristics he found so valuable in Arabella.

  “Sounds lovely. Is she bonnie?” Donal asked.

  “The bonniest lass ye’ve ever seen, Donal. I’m not lying. She is right amazing from head to toe,” Francis insisted.

  “I’d like to get me eyes on her,” Donal laughed.

  “I promise ye it’d be the last thing ye’d ever get on her,” Francis teased.

  Donal laughed in reply. They both knew that if a woman had fallen for Francis, she was unlikely to notice anyone else. Donal was a gangly man, with scarcely any muscle at all and fewer teeth than that.

  On the other hand, while Francis knew that Donal was no threat to his love for Arabella, he also knew that Donal already had a wife and two children. In addition, he had heard from others that his wife loved him fiercely.

  “How’s yer wife?” Francis remembered then to ask.

  “She’s grand, way better than yer lass in every way,” Donal said proudly.

  Francis scoffed mockingly. “Dinnae be a liar. I ken ye’re jealous of me, but ye dinnae have to be a child about it.”

  “Child?” Donal gasped, pretending to be affronted.

  They fell into quiet, not bothering to continue the ruse when they knew it was better to keep quiet.

  Just then, Francis looked up and saw one of their party taking aim. A few of the other men
followed his lead. Francis was still too distracted by that word.

  Wife.

  It was a word that seemed to be ever present in his mind lately.

  “So tell me, when are ye planning to wed yer lass?” Donal asked, as if reading Francis’ mind.

  His head shot up a little and he looked at Donal with deep, concerned eyes. “Well, that’s a great question,” he confessed. “One I’ve been thinking about quite a lot of late.”

  “Then why dinnae ye go for it? Afraid she’ll refuse ye?” Donal asked, teasing again.

  “No, nothing like that. It’s more that…well…ye heard the scandal. Ye ken what me uncle claims. And I havnae any way to prove him wrong. So how can I ask a lass like that, one of noble breeding, to tie herself to me when I’m a ruined man already by reputation?” Francis asked.

  Donal stopped his horse and Francis did the same, allowing all the other men to get a little further ahead of them. Francis looked up to see that they’d not had the shot before and decided to continue the stalk.

  “Francis, dinnae be a fool. What does it matter? True or not, does it change yer feelings for the lass?” he challenged.

  “Of course it doesnae. It isnae me own feelings that I’ve got to be worried about,” Francis defended.

  “So ye think she is changeable and willnae want ye if she learned that ye arena the son of a laird?” Donal asked, pointing out how insulting this mentality was to Arabella.

  “Well, no, of course I don’t think so little of her as that,” Francis replied in frustration.

  “Are ye certain?”

  “Of course I’m certain!” Francis growled in irritation, trying to keep his vice down for the sake of the hunt and the other men.

  “Well then. If ye ask me, which I ken ye didnae, but I’ll tell ye anyway, it sounds like ye just need to do whatever is in yer heart, Francis. If ye want to be with the lass, then for goodness’ sake, just get out there and be with her already. Ask her for her hand if that’s what ye want,” Donal stated as if it were the only choice, the obvious one.

  Francis felt a bit foolish, not having realized how right Donal was. True, her family could easily refuse the marriage, but for now her family was the Laird of the Clan MacGowan and he was kind to Francis. Why would that not extend to his wanting to marry a lady from among Dunmore?

  “Get after her already!” Donal urged.

  Francis grinned at him. He was right. There would never be a better time to go for it than in that moment, when Francis was filled with energy.

  As he rode away, back toward the city where he would find Arabella, he heard the cheers of the men, having finally taken down the deer in the forest. They would feast that evening, and he was looking forward to it.

  More than anything, Francis was ready to ask Arabella to be his wife. Whether she cared or not about his parentage, whether he was somebody or nobody at all, he would ask her.

  Her answer would be the most powerful magic he could imagine.

  Chapter 24

  A Walk That Changes Everything

  “Of course, Daisy, I’ll get the rest to ye whenever I can,” Arabella promised, knowing she had to go through her bag to find the other two dresses that still needed to be washed.

  Arabella had found that her belongings were messier than she generally liked to keep them, but she had been devastated since arriving back at the estate after seeing Lady Anisette and was unmotivated to take care of all of her things.

  Worse still, she still hadn’t seen Francis.

  Since she had gotten in late last evening, she wasn’t on time for dinner and had to eat alone, and chose to do so in her room because of all the shame. She was actually quite nervous to see Francis again, so perhaps there was a small part of her that had inflicted it upon herself.

  Then this morning, upon going down for breakfast, Arabella learned that Francis had gone out for a hunt. She had missed him once again. It was growing frustrating not seeing him.

  Arabella could not stay in her room forever, that much she knew. So she decided to dress and make her way downstairs until she might be able to stumble into a returning Francis.

  Knowing the hunt would probably last a while, Arabella took her time getting ready. She wanted to look her best for when she saw Francis again. She wanted to shine so that she took his breath away.

  Taking time to do her hair up intricately in a fashionable bun, Arabella was pleased with herself. She typically didn’t like to make such a fuss over her appearance. Today it was important; it would be worth it.

  She descended the stairs and decided to sit in the parlor. The estate was quiet, with only a few others about. The laird was in the city under his guise as a Hanoverian captain.

  She sat by herself in the quiet, reading, and trying to pass the time until she heard the sound of Francis returning to the estate. After half an hour, there was still no sign of him and she was already growing impatient.

  The door to the parlor swung wide open, as if a bull were barging through it. Out of fear, Arabella jumped to her feet and readied herself for the onslaught of attack.

  Angus, Francis’ uncle, burst out laughing in a hideous way. Arabella immediately narrowed her eyes against him in response to his antics in intentionally trying to frighten her. He must have known she was in there and thought it would be humorous to terrify her.

  “To what do I owe the pleasure?” she asked slowly, through gritted teeth.

  Angus’ face suddenly grew serious.

  “Pleasure? A young lass hasnae spoken to me out of pleasure in quite some time. But if ye want to, I’m happy to talk to ye about it,” he hinted suggestively.

  Arabella felt an overwhelming surge of revulsion. How could this man dare to speak to her like that? How could he behave in a manner so different from his brother and nephew? It was shocking and Arabella could barely stomach the thought of being in the same room as Angus.

  She tried to make her way toward the door, but he blocked it with his wide girth.

  Arabella stepped to the other side and Angus did the same.

  “If ye please, sir,” she said in the same bitter tone.

  “If I please…what? What do ye want form me?” he asked in his own same suggestive tone.

  Arabella was completely appalled. She could not believe he was continuing this behavior. She wondered if he truly expected her to respond to it?

  “Oh, ye ought to see the look on yer face!” he said obnoxiously and in a loud voice. “I’m only teasing ye, lass! It’s not as though a pretty young thing like yerself would ever want a man like me. I ken I’m too old and too fat for ye. Ye’re more into the bastard son types, as far as I can tell.”

  She glared at him again. He dared to mock Francis to her even now. What a horrible man he was, what a filthy creature. She didn’t know what to do, because he was still blocking her escape, but Arabella could not abide him any longer.

  Finally, she got an idea.

  “Please, do come in,” she said, playacting as though she was changing her attitude toward him and playing the dutiful hostess, suddenly understanding that his humor was only that.

  Angus gave a suggestive Mmm as if she was inviting him inside for something special.

  Arabella sat on one of the single chairs and gestured for Angus to take a seat on the double, where his body would fit better.

  “Oh goodness, well this isnae very private now is it,” she said with a girlish laugh, looking at the door, which was still wide open. Before Angus could move to close it, Arabella stood and made her way over. Acting as if she would simply close it, she surprised Angus by, instead, glancing at him one last time, then rushing out the door and closing it behind herself, before breaking into a full run.

  Arabella was out the front door before she heard Angus roar from within the house. The staff seemed shocked by her frantic leaving, but Arabella had no time to pause and give them explanation. She needed only to get as far away as she could before Angus caught up with her.

  She had n
o idea whether or not he would try to follow her. He was lazy and she had that on her side, but he also had a mean temper and might be willing to follow her in order to punish her.

  He had behaved so inappropriately toward her and had mocked Francis in the process, trying to wound them both in one horrible go.

  Arabella couldn’t take any more of that. She couldn’t put herself in a position of bowing to his whims or his ill treatment.

  Finally, she was far enough, and off the road enough, that she no longer worried about Angus coming after her. He would have to take a side road to find her that he was unlikely to try, even if he were foolish enough to follow. Arabella had covered her tracks well enough.

  Even now, she was certainly not ready to go back, and would have to keep walking.

  It was a relief that Angus was so large and mostly drunken. He moved slowly enough that her harrowing escape had been made possible. As Arabella walked, she replayed the scene over and over again in her mind.

  She had done everything she could think of to remain safe. It might have put her in a bad position for getting back to the house though. She might not be welcomed back. Or Angus might start some horrible lie or rumor about her now, as he had about Francis’ mother.

  Oh, that man is too awful for anything good to come of him. Of that much, Arabella was truly certain.

  She had walked for an hour before she realized the familiarity of the area surrounding her. Arabella looked farther down the road and saw Lady Anisette’s house.

  Of course. Why wouldn’t she have ended up here of all places? Escaping Francis’ uncle only to end up here, so close to Lady Anisette’s home, where she would have to face her shame.

  The woman had told her to return. However, it was only the next day. Was it too soon to come and beg forgiveness? Ought she to try now or would it be better to wait until another couple of days had passed?

  Then again, Arabella still didn’t know how long they would be in Edinburgh. She might not have a few days to wait.

  No, it made sense. It was better to stop by now, to throw herself at Lady Anisette’s feet, and to beg an apology for having pushed her for information about a topic that she found to be so utterly painful.