Marriage 03: The Marriage Contract

by Cathy Maxwell

  Aidan moved back on the beach so he could be seen from the cliff. “What is it, Davey?”

  “Soldiers are coming! Hugh sent me to warn you.”

  “Soldiers?” Anne repeated. “Why would they be here?”

  Aidan didn’t answer. Instead, he took her hand and started up the hill.

  In the courtyard all was confusion until Aidan appeared. “Go back to your kitchen, Mrs. MacEwan,” he said. The cook immediately retreated, taking her daughter with her.

  “Do you think—?” Hugh started, and then stopped when he realized what he had been about to reveal.

  Aidan frowned. Deacon stood on the path leading to the stables. Several of Fang’s sons surrounded him. “It’s Lambert, Tiebauld,” he called. “I feel it in my bones.”

  Turning to Anne, Aidan said, “You go in the house and don’t come out, no matter what happens. Make certain Cora and the children stay there, too.”

  “Yes, Aidan, but—”

  “Anne, this is no time to argue.”

  Chapter 10

  Anne stared into his intent eyes and closed her mouth.

  Dancing with him on the beach had been a magic moment. She knew he had pulled her close. His hand on her waist had lingered possessively, and in the depths of his eyes, she’d seen longing…longing for her. She’d despaired of ever meeting a man who would look at her in such a way. A man she could in turn love, honor, and respect. A man like Aidan.

  But now, he was back to the domineering, in-control man who was laird of Kelwin Castle.

  “Be careful,” she murmured.

  His proud, devil-may-care grin flashed at her. “I’m always careful. Now, go inside.”

  Anne submissively did as he’d ordered, herding Cora and the children in front of her. But once inside, obedience ended.

  Aidan had secrets. She’d heard Major Lambert’s

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  name before. In a second, she remembered: Sir Rupert had asked Lady Waldo about a Major Lambert. He’d been worried when he’d said the name. At the time, every one of Anne’s senses had screamed a warning.

  Now, a sense of foreboding even stronger than before shuddered through her.

  “Take the children to the servants’ quarters,” she ordered Cora. “You’ll be safe there.”

  “What about you, my lady?”

  “I’ll wait here.” Cora started to leave, but Anne called her back. “Do you know why the army would pay us a visit, Cora? Who is this Lambert?”

  Cora shrugged. “They may be passing through and need food and drink.”

  And pigs can fly, too, Anne thought; but she kept her comment to herself. “I pray it is true.”

  “I do also,” Cora agreed softly, and then left the room with the girls.

  Anne tiptoed back into the alcove and cracked open the front door in time to see a party of fifty soldiers march with a sense of purpose through Kelwin’s arched gates. Sunlight caught and gleamed off of their fixed bayonets. It was a wicked sight.

  At the head of their party rode a wigged officer. His boots shone with the effects of champagne blacking. His gold braid seemed brighter than the sun. He had a great hooked nose and an aura of aristocratic disdain.

  In contrast, her husband was in his usual shirt sleeves, leather breeches, and his well-worn favorite pair of boots. Still he appeared every inch the nobleman.

  The dogs were barking wildly. Aidan ordered some of the lads to shepherd them up to the stables.

  The officer signaled his troops to halt when he reached the center of the courtyard. The smallest dog, York, had escaped being corralled and stood his ground close to Aidan, barking away.

  Aidan swooped York up. “Here, now, stop yapping.”

  The pup obeyed.

  “Good morning, Lord Tiebauld,” the officer said, looking down his imperial nose at Aidan, who stood defiantly before the castle door, his overlong hair blowing in the breeze.

  “Good morning, Major Lambert.”

  “Quite a menagerie of curs you have here,” the major observed.

  His tart verdict irritated Anne. She was gladdened when Aidan said, “If you don’t like my dogs, you may leave, Major.”

  “Oh no, I can’t do that,” the major said, with a touch of carefully feigned boredom. “I’m here searching for a desperate fugitive.”

  “A desperate fugitive, running through Kelwin?” Aidan shook his head. “You have a fantastic imagination, Major.”

  “I may or may not,” the gentleman officer said. His gaze drifted to search the crowd of curious on

  lookers lining the courtyard. “But I have it on good authority Deacon Gunn, brother of the rebel Robbie Gunn, is here. I am going to ask you to turn him over.”

  A hush ran through the courtyard at the mention of Deacon’s name. Aidan’s chin came up, a sign to Anne he was going to be stubborn. “On what charges?”

  “Treason against the Crown,” the major answered.

  Treason? Anne had never imagined such a thing.

  Peeking through the crack in the door, she had a clear view of Deacon standing with Fang’s sons. He didn’t even flinch when his name was spoken. The soldiers could not know what he looked like, else they would have arrested him.

  She held her breath, waiting for someone to denounce him. No one did.

  Worse, if he moved, he would call attention to himself.

  Aidan said flatly, “I’ve not seen Deacon Gunn for weeks.”

  “’Tis odd,” Major Lambert said. “We have a report from a man who had recently traveled this way saying he’d seen you, my lord, and Gunn out for a ride.”

  “I won’t deny he’s my friend,” Aidan answered. “But I have not seen him in recent weeks.”

  Every fiber of Anne’s being tightened with tension as the officer frowned. Major Lambert was not

  pleased with his answer. The scene reminded her of another time, another place—when her own father had been marched away by soldiers. In the safety of the alcove, she kicked off her shoes and frantically started to pull one stocking up her leg and then another. She must be the model of propriety. It was the only thing British authority understood.

  Outside, the officer was asking, “You won’t mind then if we search your estate, my lord?”

  “Yes, I do,” Aidan said.

  Major Lambert’s eyes narrowed, but his voice was reasonable. “I don’t know why. If he’s not here, I’m certain we will find nothing…and your loyalty to the Crown will be duly noted.”

  “Searching for Jacobites, Major Lambert? Those days are long behind us.”

  “The Jacobite threat in Scotland is always present, Lord Tiebauld, as you well know as the descendant of one of the most notorious rebels in Scottish history.”

  Aidan laughed with genuine amusement. “My grandfather, named with the likes of William Wallace and Rob Roy? Major, Scottish history is full of rebels, one after the other, and it will be until England recognizes our right to govern ourselves without oppressive tactics like this one.”

  The set of Major Lambert’s face hardened. “It is my sworn duty to rout out traitors wherever they may be…whoever they may be. Including you, my lord.”

  Anne could wait no longer—not after such a statement. Aidan was flirting with danger. Did he not realize it? If he wasn’t careful, the major would take him in Deacon’s place. Anne rejected the thought of Aidan being tried and hanged as a rebel. The people would be bereft.

  She would be bereft, too. Yes, she pretended not to notice him, to remain unconcerned about his activities, but the truth was she was falling deeper and deeper in love with him. Each day she found something noble, admirable, wonderful about him.

  She would remain here beside him even if he didn’t love her, because she couldn’t leave. He and the proud people of Kelwin were becoming a part of her soul.

  Instinctively, she knew she had to create a diversion in order for Deacon to escape safely and defuse the tension between the man she loved and Major Lambert.

  Anne smoothed
her skirts, straightened her shoulders, and boldly threw open the door.

  “My lord,” she trilled at Aidan, “you didn’t tell me we had guests.” She infused in her voice as much aristocratic hauteur as possible. Snobbery would be something Major Lambert could understand.

  Everyone’s focus shifted to her. She smiled, hoping Deacon had the sense to take advantage of the moment and slip away. He’d probably delay leaving to watch her performance out of spite.

  And quite a performance it was, too. Anne shoved aside any hesitations and glided forward with the straight-backed poise every debutante had to master before being presented at Court. She slipped her arm around her husband’s and complained, “How bad of you to have company and not tell me.” She looked to the officer. “I’ve been here only a week and already I suffer ennui. I am anxious for civilized conversation.” Squeezing her husband’s arm, she said, “Aren’t you going to perform introductions?”

  For a moment, she feared Aidan would refuse, that he would be willing to further antagonize the officer. She pleaded with her eyes. He had to play his part. If he didn’t, she feared the consequences.

  He raised one bemused eyebrow, then shifted York to his other arm, reached for her hand, and gallantly kissed it. “My dove”—she almost laughed at the endear-ment—“Major Lambert is here on business,” he continued. “I do not wish you to trouble your mind over it. He will be leaving.”

  The back of her hand tingled where he had kissed her, but she put on her best pout. “He mustn’t. I do so wish for entertainment. Please introduce us.”

  Irritation flashed in the depths of Aidan’s eyes, but he did as she’d requested. Not to do so would have seemed suspicious. “Very well. My lady, this is Major Lambert of one of the King’s men protecting his interests in Scotland. Major, my wife, Lady Tiebauld.”

  “Your wife?” The words startled the major. He dismounted, dropping the reins. “I had not heard you were married.”

  “I did not feel it necessary to send you an announcement,” Aidan replied stonily.

  Looking past the major’s shoulder, Anne noticed Deacon had indeed shown good sense and taken advantage of her diversion. He’d slipped away, but he would need more time to escape the estate. She smiled at the officer. “We’ve been married for weeks.”

  Major Lambert appeared disbelieving. “But I had not heard you were even betrothed, Lord Tiebauld—and I would have heard such extraordinary news.”

  “Oh, it all took place in London.” She simpered like a chit from the schoolroom. “No one knew about it up here in the Highlands.”

  The major persisted. “I had not thought Lord Tiebauld had been to London in years…or have you, my lord? Have you been dashing around on secret errands?”

  “My comings and goings are not your business,” Aidan answered.

  He frustrated Anne with his coldness. Didn’t he realize Deacon needed time? She stepped forward, pointedly ignoring his scowling face. “Would you care to join us for luncheon, Major? I can share the Town gossip.”

  Aidan said, “I’m sure Major Lambert has other things to do—”

  “I would be delighted,” the major answered. “My men have work to do here anyway.”

  “What work?” she asked innocently.

  “They are going to search the estate for rebels,” Aidan said briskly.

  “Rebels!” Anne made a silly fluttering gesture of distress. “You won’t find rebels here.”

  “He thinks I’m one,” Aidan said quietly.

  Anne looked at her husband. “You?” She started laughing and Aidan reluctantly smiled with her.

  “You can see my wife finds the situation ridiculous, Major.” Aidan placed York on the ground. The pup sniffed at the officer’s boots.

  “I have my duty,” Major Lambert replied stiffly, shaking his foot to chase York away.

  “Yes, yes,” Anne said, worrying York might do something rude if provoked. “And you must do it, but we can enjoy ourselves during its course, can’t we?”

  Cora had approached. Anne said, “Cora, please tell Mrs. MacEwan there will be a guest for lunch.” As the maid hurried to do her bidding, she said, “Come inside, Major.” She waited for him to offer his arm and let him escort her inside. Aidan trailed behind.

  “I don’t imagine you know Lord Liverpool?” she asked.

  “I’ve met him,” Major Lambert replied, impressed. “Are you acquainted with him?”

  “Oh, la!” Anne sighed. “I’m not, but my husband’s sister, Lady Waldo, is very close to him.” She didn’t know if what she’d said was true, but felt it important for the officer to know her husband was not without friends, political friends.

  Major Lambert gave search orders to his second-in-command and followed her into the great hall, where he had the good taste to exclaim over the windows.

  “They are marvelous,” Anne agreed. “My husband has worked to bring Kelwin to its former glory. He’s a medieval scholar.”

  “Yes, I know,” Major Lambert said. “We were in school together.”

  Anne’s mouth almost dropped open. From their attitudes, she would have thought they’d never known each other before. “Is this true?” she asked Aidan.

  “Oh, yes,” he said, helping himself to a tankard of ale. “We even traveled in the same London circles for a time until I inherited my title. A title is something Lambie has always wanted. Tell me, Lambie, are you any closer to your holy grail?”

  The officer stiffened. “I don’t like that name.”

  “I know,” Aidan answered, and smiled. “Lambie.”

  Anne positioned herself between them. “Do you wish a glass of ale, Major? My husband brews it himself. Or would you prefer wine?”

  “Actually, I have no fondness for the local brews,” Major Lambert said, condescendingly. “But my palate would appreciate a glass of wine, my lady.”

  Norval had come in to set the table with pewter dishes. Anne turned to him and brightly said, “Norval, please bring out a bottle of wine.”

  “Wine, my lady?” he asked, confused.

  “I’ll get it, Norval,” Aidan answered. “I need to bring it up from the wine cellar.” There was a touch of irony in his words because Anne had not found any such place and doubted it existed. But she assumed there must be wine somewhere, and she was right.

  A moment later, Aidan returned with a very dusty bottle of red wine and two glasses. At the same time, a group of soldiers marched past the window on their way to the sea path. It chilled Anne to have them climbing all over the estate. She prayed Deacon was wise enough to avoid them.

  Having sensed her distress, her husband pressed a glass in her hand. “Drink.”

  She lifted her gaze to his. “Thank you.”

  His fingers brushed hers and he leaned forward. “Courage,” he whispered in her ear.

  “What did you say?” Major Lambert asked.

  Aidan picked up the other glass and offered it to their unwanted guest. “I was reminding my wife of her unconventional jewelry.”

  Only then did Anne remember she still wore her seaweed necklace. With a sound of distress, she set

  down her glass and pulled it off. “You must think me silly,” she told Major Lambert. “I was playing with the crofter children on the beach.”

  “I thought it was a touch unconventional,” he admitted.

  “My wife is unconventional,” Aidan said, a trace of pride in his voice.

  “And lovely,” the major added. “I would not have thought you so fortunate, Lord Tiebauld.” He raised his glass in Anne’s direction as a toast.

  “Yes,” Aidan agreed, but a tightness had appeared at the corners of his mouth.

  Flustered by the unexpected praise, Anne asked, “Are you married, Major?” She picked up her glass and took an unusually large swallow, needing the fortification.

  “No, he’s waiting for a rich wife,” Aidan answered. He sat down at his place at the table. Through the windows past his shoulders, the soldiers trudged up the pa
th—empty-handed.

  “I do not have the luxury of your money, Tiebauld,” the major said baldly.

  “Or a title.” Aidan couldn’t seem to resist another dig. He smiled at Anne. “Major Lambert hopes to earn a knighthood by marching a horde of Scottish traitors to London. Even if he must fabricate them.”

  The soldier’s hand tightened on his glass. “I don’t have to create Jacobites in Scotland. Nor do I believe traitors should be allowed to keep titles.”

  Aidan wagged a finger at him. “Ah, those decisions were made long ago. They are out of our hands. And it was my great-grandfather, Lambie, not me who was the traitor. Don’t confuse us.”

  “I won’t—if you are innocent.”

  Aidan came to his feet in challenge.

  Anne hurried up to him, saying, “It is almost time for luncheon. Perhaps we had best change the subject.”

  To her relief, Norval and Cora walked in, ready to serve. “Shall we sit?” She moved toward her place at the table. Major Lambert reached to pull out her chair, but her husband suddenly cut in and beat the officer to it.

  Anne sighed. If she had anticipated this petty rivalry she would have let the soldiers carry Aidan off in chains! Instead, she was forced to play her role to the hilt, batting her eyelashes and recounting every party she’d ever attended in London, mentioning the name of every person she’d ever met.

  Major Lambert hung on her every word. Aidan was right. He was an ambitious man whose father, she learned, was a solicitor and unable to further his plight in political circles. “But I have plans,” he assured Anne. His gaze drifted toward her husband.

  At last, one of the major’s soldiers appeared to report they’d finished their search.

  “Did you find anything?” the major asked, rising.

  “No, sir. No evidence of Deacon Gunn or other traitorous activities.”

  Since they hadn’t recognized Deacon when he’d been standing right in front of them, Anne was not surprised. She didn’t dare look at Aidan.

  Major Lambert turned to her, clicking his heels as he bowed in the Prussian method. “I thank you for your hospitality and conversation, my lady. You are a far more gracious and lovely woman than Tiebauld deserves.”