“Gunn was a Jacobite—” Lambert started, but Aidan cut him off.
“Every Scotsman is a Jacobite at heart. It goes with the romance of our country, and we are all romantics. Gunn was vocal about the Clearances. His family lost everything—their land, their heritage—all stolen by those with money to do it. But if you in
tend, Lambert, to arrest and beat every man who stands against the Clearances, you will be very busy.”
“I’m certain Major Lambert had good cause to arrest Gunn, my lord,” Colonel Witherspoon said.
“No, he didn’t,” Aidan answered crushingly. “He took after Gunn as a way to settle an old score against me.”
Major Lambert declared, “What a ridiculous statement!”
Aidan said, “You knew Gunn and I were distant cousins. Ever since we were in school together, you envied my title and my family’s prestige.”
Anne formed an “O” with her lips. Aidan’s words echoed the major’s from the night before, words he had spoken to the colonel.
“Oh, yes,” Major Lambert said sarcastically. “And I would trump up charges of treason to discredit you? There is no basis for such wild conjecture. Gunn was plotting rebellion.”
“If so, where is your proof?” Aidan asked coolly. “And I’ll expect something more solid than rumor or snippets of conversation overheard in tap rooms.”
Major Lambert’s face turned a livid red. “He would have confessed.”
The seeds of doubt had been planted. From her hiding place, Anne had a clear view of Colonel With-erspoon’s face. He slid an evaluating glance in Major Lambert’s direction. Ambitious men must al
ways be cautious, she realized. The colonel could not afford to be linked to Major Lambert’s mistakes.
Then Aidan changed tack. It surprised both Anne and the major. “But Gunn’s death is history. The important question is, what needs to be done now?”
“Who needs you to do anything?” Major Lambert practically snarled.
“You.” Aidan nodded to the guard. “Is he necessary?”
“No,” Colonel Witherspoon said, before Major Lambert could speak, and dismissed the man. Once they were alone, he asked, “What do you believe should be done, my lord?”
“He’s one of them!” Major Lambert protested. “You can’t listen to him.”
“Lambert, you are a fool,” Aidan answered with a flash of temper. “In your ambitious arrogance, you have jeopardized all of us. Sutherland, Argyll, my-self”—he paused before adding quietly to the distinguished list of titled gentry—“and Colonel Witherspoon.”
The colonel shifted, obviously ill-at-ease.
“Gunn is not that important,” Major Lambert retorted disdainfully.
“A moment ago he was the key to an insurrection,” Aidan said. “You can’t have it both ways, Major.”
“And do you feel Gunn was important?” Colonel Witherspoon asked Aidan.
“Fiery Robbie Gunn had the devil’s own temper.
He could be a suspicious pest in life, but in death he will take on the status of a hero. As the descendant of a Scottish rebel, I understand the power of legend. We must prevent such a thing from happening.”
“How can we?” Colonel Witherspoon asked, edging closer to Aidan.
“Bury him. Now, quickly, before word spreads.”
“He can’t just disappear,” Major Lambert replied, echoing the question that had popped into Anne’s mind.
“Yes he can,” Aidan said. “Everyone knows the Gunns had little to their name. We’ll put it about that he escaped and left the country.” He shrugged. “Whole families are leaving now, driven out by the Clearances. Robbie’s leaving would make sense.”
“To go where?” Colonel Witherspoon asked with genuine interest.
Aidan considered a moment. “France, Denmark—it doesn’t matter.”
The colonel tested the idea in his mind. “Why not? The Frogs adore rebels. They’d probably have made him a minister of state.”
“Robbie Gunn would have liked such a role.” Aidan asked Major Lambert, “Who knew he was here?”
The major didn’t want to answer the question. He clearly resented Aidan’s intrusion. But a sharp comment from Colonel Witherspoon forced Major Lambert to answer. “Few.”
Aidan snorted. “What does that mean?”
“Yes, Lambert, what does that mean?” the colonel parroted.
“A tavern keeper and a maid we paid to keep their mouths shut.”
“Will they talk?” Colonel Witherspoon asked.
“Not if they value their lives,” Major Lambert said. “I wanted Gunn’s whereabouts kept quiet. I didn’t have enough men to defend him if—” He broke off and looked away.
“Defend him if what?” Colonel Witherspoon prompted.
“If his brother or Lord Tiebauld attempted to rescue him.”
“And jeopardize everything I own?” Aidan laughed, and Anne quietly laughed with him. His protest rang with truth. “Lambert,” he continued, “you are living in a world of your devising. I have business interests and a responsibility to the Crown. A better jest yet is to think of what sort of force I could raise among my sheepherding clansmen.”
“But your great-grandfather—” Major Lambert started.
“Is dead,” Aidan finished. “I was raised in England. My sister married an important statesman—”
“Who is that?” Colonel Witherspoon asked.
“Lord Waldo,” Aidan answered.
“Lord Waldo?” the colonel repeated in reverent tones. “I did not know you were related to him.”
“Yes, he was a great man,” Aidan said off-handedly.
“He helped arrange my commission,” Colonel Witherspoon said.
Anne could have shouted “Hallejuah.” As it was, she leaned back against the wall, almost overwhelmed by their good fortune.
Aidan quickly capitalized on the connection. “My sister was his second wife.”
“Ah, yes, I met her in London. A gracious woman,” Colonel Witherspoon said. “In fact, now I recognize the family resemblance between the two of you.”
“And can you see her attacking the Crown?” Aidan asked with a thin smile.
“Lady Waldo? Absolutely not,” Colonel Witherspoon answered.
“Then pass the word on to Major Lambert, and perhaps at last he will believe rebels don’t lurk behind every rock in the Highlands.” Aidan didn’t wait for a response but added with lordly contempt, “I’m done here. You have threatened my wife and damaged my honor. Gentlemen, Robbie Gunn’s blood is on your hands. The problem is of your own making. I wash my hands of the lot of you.” He started to close the door, but Colonel Witherspoon placed his foot in its path.
“I didn’t know Lambert was going to beat the bloody man to death.”
“It won’t matter,” Aidan answered. “It happened under your command.” He shut the door.
A hundred questions jumped to Anne’s lips. Aidan shook his head, warning her now was not the time. They listened. A second later, Major Lambert said, “I did not act irresponsibly. I know Gunn was raising an army.”
“You heard Tiebauld,” the colonel said. “Gunn had no money. What was he going to raise an army with?”
“Tiebauld supported him,” Major Lambert said, but some of his bluster was gone. He obviously realized how weak his reasoning sounded.
Colonel Witherspoon sighed heavily. “There is always a rebellion being planned in Scotland and Ireland. The rabble are never happy.” There was a pause and then, he said so quietly Anne had to strain to hear, “You are relieved of your duties, Major.”
“What?” The word burst out of Lambert. Aidan’s arms around Anne tightened as they listened to the major recover himself. “I beg your pardon, sir, but shouldn’t you take a moment to consider?”
“I’ve considered,” the colonel said bluntly, “and have decided it best for you to leave immediately. Return to my headquarters and I will see letters are drawn up to have you reassigned from Scotland.�
�
“But there is nowhere to go!” Lambert said. “Other than Ireland or the West Indies.”
“Where I’m certain you will find a suitable post.” The colonel started walking back to his room, but Lambert must have stepped in his way.
“I am not wrong about Gunn.”
“Well, we’ll never know, will we? Gunn is dead, and Tiebauld is right! If word gets about how we caused his death, then we will have a riot on our hands, a riot of your making.”
“I kept you informed of my every action,” Major Lambert countered.
Colonel Witherspoon’s voice became steel. “I did not order you to hold Tiebauld. Perhaps your jealousy blinds you.”
“I am jealous of no man.” Major Lambert spat the words out.
“It is of no difference,” Colonel Witherspoon answered. He raised his voice. “Lieutenant Fordyce?”
“Yes, sir.” His voice came from a distance, as if he stood at the bottom of the stairs.
“Hand pick a detail of men known for their closed lips. See that the prisoner is buried immediately.”
“Yes, sir,” the lieutenant answered. A second later, Anne and Aidan heard the door to Colonel Wither-spoon’s door shut while the lieutenant left the house to do his duty.
Only Major Lambert was left. Anne could feel the heat of the man’s frustration even through the hardwood—
A fist slammed into the heavy door. Anne couldn’t stop a small cry of surprise. She waited for the major to charge into the room; instead, he marched down the stairs.
Aidan released a breath of relief. “Let us leave as quickly as possible.” He didn’t need to repeat the
suggestion; she was already searching for her stockings.
He tightened the laces of her dress as she shoved her toe in the tip of a rolled-up stocking. “You’ve been brave, Anne, my darling. Keep it up. We are almost free.”
“Is Robbie Gunn truly dead?”
He brushed a quick kiss on her head. “Later.” He finished dressing himself in an economy of movement.
She tied her garters and slipped on her shoes, thinking she and Aidan worked almost as a team. Rising from the bed, she helped him tie his neck cloth. The starch had long gone out of it…and he looked tired.
She pressed her hand against his cheek. “You’ve done the best you could.”
“I pray it is enough.” He took her arm and led her to the door. Outside, the guard had not come back.
They went downstairs. Colonel Witherspoon sat at the dining room table; Lieutenant Fordyce was with him. The colonel rose upon seeing Anne and Aidan. “Ah, so you have decided to take your leave, my lord?” he said jovially, as though they’d been overnight guests and not prisoners.
“I’m afraid I must,” Aidan answered with classic understatement. He handed Anne her straw bonnet. She wandered into the sitting room, where there was a mirror by the door, and tied the bow.
“I’ve taken the liberty of ordering your coach around,” Colonel Witherspoon said. “One of my men will drive you.”
“I appreciate your offer,” Aidan said, “but I believe I will drive my own coach. It has been a long time since I’ve had my hands on the ribbons.”
“Then an escort?”
“Unnecessary. Thank you.”
Their dialogue jarred Anne. They could have been two old friends at a house party. It made her uneasy.
Aidan came into the room where she was. “Are you ready, my lady?” For a second, he almost appeared a stranger rather than the man she’d fully and completely accepted as her husband—and she realized there were two sides to Aidan. One was the arrogantly confident Scotsman who enjoyed hard labor and good fun.
The other was the man waiting for her. A man with polished manners. Urbane, sophisticated…in complete control.
Then he held out his hand and the two became one in her mind. Her Aidan. The man she loved.
She placed her hand in his. He said his final farewells to Colonel Witherspoon, even offering a friendly comment to Lieutenant Fordyce. They went out the door.
The coach waited, the horses stamping with impatience. “Have you ever ridden in the driver’s box?” Aidan asked.
Anne tried to say no, but found her mouth too dry.
“You’ll enjoy it,” Aidan answered pleasantly.
They could be preparing to take a ride in the park—instead of hoping to escape with their lives. “Here.” He helped her up.
The box seat was narrow. Being up this high made her dizzy. She started to sit. As she did, she glanced in front of her and froze.
Two soldiers marched into the woods carrying a canvas-wrapped body between them. They were followed by a third man who lugged shovels.
Suddenly her trembling legs could no longer support her weight. Aidan had said he’d killed a man.
Would he have sacrificed Robbie Gunn to save their lives?
She didn’t know. Aidan could be ruthless when necessary.
A hand on either side of her, Anne gripped the edge of the hard board seat so tightly her knuckles turned white.
Aidan settled in beside her, the reins in his hands. He’d removed his hat and tossed it inside the cab. He hadn’t shaved yet. His roughened beard gave him a dangerous look. She caught herself staring at him with uncertainty.
“Safe trip, my lord,” Colonel Witherspoon said from the front step.
“And to you, Colonel,” Aidan said. “Please visit when you are in the area of Kelwin.”
“Not up your way very much,” the colonel answered. “Too far north.”
Aidan laughed and snapped the reins. The wheels rolled forward with a jolt and they were on their way home.
Anne’s body swayed with the movement of the coach. Aidan put his arm around her for support. “Watch it now,” he warned.
She nodded. He turned his attention to the horses. He had a better hand on the reins than the soldier who had driven them to Lybster. They rode in silence. Anne didn’t dare speak until she was certain they were not being followed.
At the crossroads where they’d run into the funeral procession the day before, she remembered Aidan commenting it was an omen. She glanced at the stately hemlocks guarding a small cemetery and felt a pang of remorse that she didn’t understand.
They turned onto the coast road. The day was windy but mild. Heavy, puffy clouds drifted across the sky. The North Sea battered the rocky shore as it did every day, over and over again.
Aidan broke the silence. “You are very quiet, Anne. What is bothering you?”
She could contain herself no longer. “Did you kill Robbie Gunn? Was he the man you murdered?”
Her words startled Aidan so much he pulled on the reins. The horses stopped in the middle of the road. His eyes narrowed. “No,” he said firmly. “I didn’t kill Gunn.”
“Then who did?”
“No one.” Flicking the horses to go, he told her the story.
When he was done, Anne released the breath she’d been holding with a sigh of relief. “I wanted to believe you couldn’t do it, and yet we were desperate. I didn’t know what was happening.”
“I didn’t want you to know. The less you knew, the safer you were.”
“I would never betray you, Aidan.”
He looked down at her. “I know you wouldn’t. It is not in the fabric of your being to deceive anyone. You are too honest, Anne.”
“I wish I were different,” she said softly. “I wish I did not care. When you care, you can be hurt.”
“You know no other way to be.” He studied the horses’ heads a moment and said, “We are alike, the two of us. We can’t be molded into what other people want us to be. But here, together, we are the people we want to be.”
“Perhaps.”
He frowned. “What is it, Anne?”
She hesitated and then said, “Why did you choose yesterday afternoon to consummate the marriage? Why then?”
He question startled him, then he grinned. “Do you mean why, when it appeared my neck was abo
ut to be stretched by a noose, did I want to make love to my wife?”
“Were you truly afraid?”
“Yes,” he replied soberly. “I believed Lambert was going to win.”
“And so you made love to me as a ploy to throw him off guard. It worked. Lambert described you to Colonel Witherspoon as a horse, and he readily accepted the idea of you sleeping soundly after so much activity.”
“He did, did he?” Aidan laughed, but Anne didn’t see anything funny.
He prodded, “Come along, Anne, I was jesting.”
She studied her hands in her lap, her feelings too new and unsettled to define.
“I wanted you safe. Consummating the marriage would ensure you would be taken care of in the event I couldn’t outwit Lambert.”
She raised her gaze to him. “That is all? You wished me to be taken care of?” For a second, she was tempted to push him off the coach. She could visualize him tumbling to the road, head over heels. “I was hoping for a different sort of confession,” she admitted. “Something with passion.”
“Like my saying I love you?”
Anne went very still. “Only if it is true.”
His gaze met hers. “I love you, Anne. I believe you are the most irritating female of my acquaintance…and also the half of me that has been missing. I’ve waited for you. I consummated the marriage because I want us to be as one.”
“Truly?” She held her breath. Years of being shuttled from one relative to another warned her to caution.
He smiled then, understanding in his eyes. “Yes, Anne. I love you. Truly. Forever and ever.”
“Till death,” she added softly.
A gleam came into his eyes. “And after. Kelwin is our home. Your place will always be by my side.”
Anne didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. She did both, while throwing her arms out to embrace him with such force, she almost did knock him off the coach.
She hugged him tight. “There never will be anyone but you.”
“And my pledge is to you and no other.”
“Not even a Whiskey Girl?” she asked, round-eyed.
“Well…”
She kissed him then, a full-bodied, giving-him-all-her-love kiss. And when she was done, he said, “Who needs a Whiskey Girl when I have a wife who can kiss like this?” They both laughed. “Come along, Anne, let’s go home.”
Marriage 03: The Marriage Contract Page 21