by Bess McBride
“Whatever do ye mean, man? Because he is English? Ye will treat him.”
I looked at Colin. His jaw was set, absolutely set in stone. I didn’t think that doctor was leaving without working on Captain Jones.
“Nay, Lord Anderson. I am nae such a patriot that I wouldna try to heal an Englishman, but the English army would insist on one of their own surgeons. Canna ye transport him to Fort William?”
Colin shook his head. “Nonsense. Impractical. It is half a day’s ride. Ye must treat him. I will take the responsibility.”
The doctor eyed Colin dubiously and approached Captain Jones. I felt movement under my hand, and Captain Jones moved his head.
“Mistress Pratt,” he whispered from dry lips. “And Lady Elinor. Have I died? Are you angels come to minister to me?” His lips moved in the grimace of a smile.
I beamed.
“Captain Jones! You’re awake!”
“Captain Jones!” Elinor echoed.
The doctor moved forward, and Elinor removed the cloth from Captain Jones’ wound and rose from her kneeling position. She came to stand by his head.
“How do ye feel?” she asked.
“Terrible,” he said. “And they escaped.” He looked down at the doctor. “And who might you be, good sir?”
“I am Doctor Johnson,” he said. “I havena treated an English soldier afore. Yer wound isna deep, and I dinna believe any vital organs have been injured, but ye will need tending to. Do ye wish to be transported back to Fort William for treatment?”
Captain Jones shook his head. “No, if Lord Anderson trusts you, I trust you.”
“Aye, Doctor Johnson has tended to my family for many years. I trust him,” Colin said in a gruff tone. I suspected he was moved by Captain Jones’ trust in him, which only reinforced my belief that, despite all, he did like the captain. If Colin was caught between his emotional attachments to his fellow Highlanders—the Jacobites—and the English officer, I pitied him. I suspected he was.
The doctor started ordering us about, including Mrs. Agnew and George, who waited in the room. Colin was instructed to help the captain drink some whisky, Mrs. Agnew was sent in search of more hot water, George more bandages, and Elinor and I were to hold the captain’s hands and brace his shoulders. It seemed his wound was to be tended to without anesthesia, and I hoped I wouldn’t bite through my lip as the doctor began.
I was in charge of holding Captain Jones’ shoulders, and I murmured whatever soothing words I could think of as the captain stiffened once the doctor started to probe his wound with his fingers. Elinor’s hands grew bright red from the captain’s tight grasp, and she moaned a bit. Colin moved forward and pulled her hands, placing his strong hands into the captain’s grip.
I looked up occasionally to see the doctor digging away at Captain Jones’ wound, but he wasn’t stitching it. Then I realized they probably didn’t have sutures in the mid-eighteenth century.
And I wondered again how long I could stay in the eighteenth century, or if I even had a choice.
I imagined many a Highlander and soldier had their wounds treated with only the help of some whisky, but I had never seen it done, and I breathed deeply to keep from passing out. I couldn’t imagine how painful it must have been for Captain Jones. The doctor finally stopped his probing, dabbed at the wound with linen, stuffed some salve inside and wrapped a cloth around Captain Jones’ abdomen.
“That’s all I can do then. Mind ye, rest yerself. Dinna go about riding for a week or so.”
So Captain Jones was to stay a week. I wondered how Colin would take that. His expression, as he walked out with the doctor, revealed nothing.
Captain Jones had fallen asleep, thanks no doubt to the copious amount of whisky Colin had forced down his throat at the doctor’s insistence. I worried about his open wound. He really needed stitches, but I had no medical experience at all.
I stood and stretched my legs and back as did Elinor, and I eyed the whisky.
“You know? I think I’ll have a little glass of that myself,” I said. “That was the worst thing I think I’ve ever gone through. Do you want some?” I poured a small amount into a glass.
“Aye, it was terrible to witness. I have never injured myself, so never had a doctor tend to me in such a manner.”
“Well, they usually do it with stitches and anesthe—” I shut my mouth and slapped the glass to my lips, taking a deep gulp. Colin had just walked into the room and heard me. The whisky burned my throat and sent a fire into my stomach.
“I think Mistress Pratt means they do surgery differently in the colonies, did ye not?”
I nodded and drank again, this time taking a small sip. If nothing else, it did ease my jangled nerves.
“I thought I’d have some of this fine whisky of yours before you and the captain drink it all up.”
Colin smiled.
“There is plenty more where that came from. Though the captain shouldna be privy to that information.”
I smiled. Bootlegging? Oh, these Highlanders! What other shenanigans did they get up to?
“No, certainly not,” I said.
“It is early for whisky,” Elinor said. “I think a cup of tea will do nicely.”
She was probably right. I was not in the habit of drinking before lunch myself, or at any other time of the day, for that matter, but these were different circumstances, and I was in sore need of something to relieve my anxiety.
“Does he sleep?” Colin asked, pouring himself a drink and nodding toward the captain.
“Aye,” I said. “He does.”
Colin tilted his head at me inquiringly. And I giggled. I have no idea why. He always looked so charming when he tilted his head. I loved how his hair curved across his cheek, and I longed to brush it back, then watch it fall forward again, then brush it back.
I finished my glass and scooted forward to have him pour me another one. I felt my face stretch into a beaming smile.
“I dinna think ye should have another drink, Mistress Pratt,” he said. He leaned close to me and whispered. “I fear ye will reveal yer secrets, Beth.”
Elinor coughed gently behind her hand, and I whirled around. I’d forgotten she was in the room.
“I shall go get us some tea,” she said, her cheeks high with color. She hurried out of the room.
“Was it something I said?” I asked with a chuckle.
Colin took my proffered glass and set it down on the sideboard before guiding me to a chair. He gently pushed me into it and took the one next to it.
“So, no more whisky for me?” I asked, not really caring. That he was so close to me was all I really wanted.
“Nay, I think not, my dear. Tea is what ye need.”
He turned to look at the still-sleeping captain.
“I love you, Colin.” The words erupted from my lips.
Colin’s head swung in my direction, his eyes wide.
“I love you,” I repeated. “I just wanted to tell you.”
He set his drink down on a side table with a smack and stood, pulling me to my feet. He grabbed my shoulders gently but firmly.
“Is it the truth ye speak, Beth? Ye love me?”
I nodded wordlessly.
“Och, I love ye too, my Beth. I love ye so much, I dinna ken if I can stand it. I did ken there would be something between us from the moment I saw ye, but then yon captain seemed to turn yer eye, and I didna trust that ye felt the same about me.”
His hands cupped my face, and his lips covered mine, and I wrapped my arms around his waist. Due to our significant height difference, that was the best I could do. I tilted my head back as far as I could and reveled in the intimacy of the moment. I forgot about the complications of traveling in time, of home, of Elinor, of Colin’s memories of his wife and unborn child.
Colin’s arms slid down around my waist, and he almost lifted me off my feet with the ferocity of his embrace. I stood on my tiptoes and clung to him as hard as I could, as if by doing so I could hold on to
him forever.
A crash broke us from our reverie, and chaos ensued. I jumped back out of Colin’s arms, to see the drawing room door open and Elinor holding an empty silver tray. She stared at us, her mouth open, ignoring the broken tea service at her feet. Water pooled on the stone floor. With a cry, she dropped the tray with a clatter and ran from the room.
“Elinor,” Colin called out and took a step forward as if to follow her. He paused and looked at me.
“What? What is it?” Captain Jones said groggily, trying to rise from the sofa as if he were still under attack.
“No!” I cried out and rushed to his side to press him back against the couch, afraid he would start bleeding again. I bent down on my knees to keep him still.
“See to him,” Colin said. “I will speak with Elinor.”
I looked over my shoulder.
“Colin,” I whispered urgently. He moved toward me and bent near.
“She wants to marry you. You know that, right?”
Colin jerked straight and stared down at me.
Captain Jones, still appearing to be under the influence of the whisky, mumbled, “No, I did not know that.”
I wasn’t sure if the captain thought I was talking to him.
“I didna ken!” Colin said. He looked over his shoulder as if Elinor still stood in the doorway.
Mrs. Agnew rushed to the door and stared down at the mess on the floor. She clucked but said nothing, and bent to start cleaning up the mess.
Colin turned back to stare at me and then to Captain Jones, who seemed to be drifting back to sleep, thank goodness.
He bent down on one knee to keep his voice low.
“How long have ye kent this? Did she say something to ye?”
I scrunched my forehead ruefully and nodded.
“Yes.”
He reached up as if to touch my face, but he stopped and glanced over his shoulder toward Mrs. Agnew again. Sarah had come to help.
“I didna ken,” he whispered again with a shake of his head. “It is nae wonder she stayed to chaperone ye, but I swear to ye, Beth, I didna ken. I have never thought of Elinor in that way.”
My heart rolled over at his protests. It seemed important to him that I believe him, and I did.
“I know,” I said. “I know now, anyway.”
“It is ye that I love, ye that I wish to marry.”
If it was incongruous to have my hands on the shoulders of one man while I received a proposal of marriage from another, I didn’t notice. What I did note was that I couldn’t throw myself into his arms and reunite with him in an embrace to tell him that yes, yes, I wished to marry him too.
I pulled my hands from the sleeping Captain Jones’ shoulders and, out of sight of the housekeeper and the maid, I touched his face with one hand.
“I love you,” I said again. And I knew I could say it many more times.
His lips parted in a broad smile, rare dimples popping out in his cheeks.
“This is a bonnie proposal,” he said ruefully. “I didna dare hope that ye felt as I do, and I planned naethin.”
“Oh, no! I’ve known I was in love with you for weeks, maybe from the first time I saw you as well. But I didn’t think—” I didn’t want to raise the specter of his wife and child. I didn’t even want to mention Elinor.
“Ye didna think I loved ye?” he asked softly. He moved his face and kissed the inside of my palm before rising. “Well, I do, verra much. I should go see to Elinor.”
He pulled me to my feet.
“Will ye stay and tend to the captain? I must get a few of the stable lads to carry him upstairs to a room.”
I nodded. I wanted to wish him good luck, but that sounded trite, so I said nothing. I only hoped that the conversation went well, and I lowered myself into a chair by the sofa and wondered what I had gotten myself into.
Chapter Twelve
Colin returned in about half an hour. The captain still slept, and Mrs. Agnew and Sarah had finished cleaning up. Mrs. Agnew had returned with another tea service, and I had asked her to deliver some tea to Lady Elinor in her room.
“Thank ye for sending the tea up,” Colin said. “Elinor was in need of it after the events of today. She has been much protected by her father and isna used to violence. Nor is she used to having her wishes thwarted.” He bent near to kiss my cheek, lingering. His hair brushed across my face. I wrapped my hands around his neck and pulled his face to mine, reveling in the certain knowledge that he loved me enough to let me do so.
“Not again,” Captain Jones said. “Will you two desist?”
Colin straightened, but not hastily. He grinned.
“Awake now, are ye? I am just about to have some lads take ye upstairs to a room. Seems ye will be staying with us for a week or so, until ye can ride again.”
“My men? Are they well? Do they behave below stairs?”
Colin nodded.
“Aye, George tells me they are well. A few scrapes and bumps, which the doctor tended to. Mrs. Renwick has fed them, and they are resting.”
Colin’s eyes flickered, and his smile faded as if he thought of something.
“What is it?” I asked.
His eyes slid to me, and he shook his head.
“It is naethin. I remembered something I forgot to do.”
Whatever it was that Colin forgot seemed important enough for him to find himself distracted.
“I will just get the lads now.”
He left the room in a hurry.
“Would you like some tea?” I asked Captain Jones. “I think once you get upstairs, I’ll get Mrs. Agnew to bring you some soup.”
“Yes, tea would be lovely, thank you.” Even in his pain, Captain Jones maintained an air of civility as if we were at a tea party. I smiled.
“I’m so glad your injuries weren’t worse,” I said as I poured him a cup of tea and put an arm under him so he could drink.
“As am I, Mistress Pratt. As am I.” He drank the entire cup, and I poured him another.
“What happens now?” I asked. “Will the army pursue the Jacobites?”
Captain Jones nodded.
“Yes, especially now with a vengeance, since an English officer was injured. I had hoped to bring them in peacefully, but I think that will not be possible now. The army will certainly kill them when they find them. I am afraid they will not make it to a trial and then certain execution.”
I wasn’t surprised.
Colin returned with the young teenager I recognized as being the stable boy, and one other. George followed them in, directing operations as they lifted Captain Jones gingerly and took him out of the room. Mrs. Agnew came in to oversee all of the men. As they left, I could hear her chiding them to handle him with care.
Colin shut the door behind them and turned to me. I thought he was about to take me in his arms, but he stayed by the door, one hand on the handle.
“I must go into the hills...to find them.”
I didn’t need to ask whom.
“So, the man I saw you talking to was one of the Jacobites.”
“Aye,” he said with a nod. “I didna wish to tell ye. They are clansmen. Though I may not agree with their politics or their methods, I cannot turn my back on them. They are naethin but old men and lads.”
I moved toward him, folded my arms around his waist and pressed my face to his chest. His heart thudded against my ear. He wrapped his arms around me and settled his chin on my head.
“You must be so torn,” I murmured. “I want to go with you.”
I felt his head turn as he denied me.
“Nay, lass. Ye canna go wi me. It is too dangerous, and the journey into the hills too arduous.”
“I can climb hills,” I said stubbornly.
“No,” he said firmly. He lifted my chin and pressed his lips gently against mine. “I dinna ken if I will return in two or three days, but I will return soon. If the captain asks after me, tell him I have gone to buy some sheep.”
I looked beyond hi
s sardonic expression and saw regret in his eyes. I knew that he didn’t want to leave me, and I had to let him go.
I stepped back.
“Be careful. Please be careful.”
“They willna harm me, lass. I am a Highlander, no matter what side my father chose. That is why I fed them and told them where to hide.”
“Captain Jones says the army will come after them, that they probably won’t make it to trial and certain execution, because they attacked an English officer.”
“Aye, I suspect as much,” Colin said with a nod. “They ken that as well. But unless they can flee Scotland, they have nae choice but to hide.”
“I know, Colin, I know, but what about you? How can you be sure the English won’t find out you helped them? You’ll be branded a traitor.”
“We must see that they dinna find out,” he said with a reassuring smile and a quick kiss. “I must go.” He turned and slipped out the door. I wanted to follow him, but I stayed where I was, wondering what I was going to do with myself for the next few days, how I would deal with my anxiety until I saw him again.
I ate lunch alone. Elinor did not come downstairs, and I wondered if I should go up to see her. We would have to speak sometime. I wondered if she was angry with me.
I finished, having little appetite, and I climbed the stairs to tap on her door.
“Elinor,” I called. “Can I talk to you?”
She didn’t answer, and I wondered if she was sleeping or just ignoring me. I was just about to tap again when I heard her laugh, but the sound came from down the hall.
I moved in that direction and saw an open door. The room was the one that Captain Jones had been assigned to both times he was here.
I peeked in, and drew back in surprise.
Elinor sat in a chair by the bed, feeding Captain Jones soup. Far from being heartbroken, she had a smile on her face, and she laughed at something he said.
Over her shoulder, the captain saw me.
“Mistress Pratt,” he called. “Please come in. Lady Elinor has been so kind as to help me eat so that I do not spill the contents of Mrs. Renwick’s delicious barley soup over myself.”
Elinor turned and looked at me. Her cheeks colored, and she dropped her eyes to the pewter bowl and spoon in her hand. I didn’t want to see the pleasure leave her face.