From her wardrobe, she hastily selected a black wool cloak and her best travelling gown of emerald green worsted wool that had a small amount of ivory lace at each cuff and a matching fichu. It laced up the front with a black velvet ribbon over an ivory lace stomacher so it was relatively easy to don. Although her ankle was still stiff and sore, she managed to pull on soft, black leather ankle boots without too much difficulty as well.
She glanced at the clock. Five past nine.
Her hair … well, her hair was a disaster. Jessie sat before her dressing table mirror and dragged a brush through the tangled mess before pulling the curls into a low arrangement of sorts with a leather tie and black ribbon. There were dark shadows under her eyes, but at least she no longer looked like some wild harridan. She was presentable enough to catch a public coach.
If she made it in time. As long as she left by eleven, and rode like the wind, she should be able to get to Grantown-on-Spey by midday. All going well.
And if Robert keeps his promise.
And if I do no’ meet Simon.
Tears pricked and Jessie scowled at her reflection. Stop it, Jessie. You dinna have time to cry …
* * *
Robert was standing by one of the mullioned windows in the small front parlour, scanning the drive when Jessie joined him.
In the weak light that filtered through the window, she noticed that Robert had also taken the opportunity to improve his appearance for his upcoming reunion with his father. Although he hadn’t shaved away the dark shadow of his morning stubble, he’d clubbed his hair back with a black velvet ribbon. He’d discarded his rumpled, travel-stained plaid and now wore buckskin breeches tucked into half boots, a fresh white linen shirt with an elegantly tied cravat, and his brown hunting coat; even though Robert’s attire was simple, one couldn’t fail to notice his innate air of authority. Robert Grant, the gentleman Jacobite; a worthy bearer of the titles Master of Strathburn and Viscount Lochrose. Jessie prayed the earl would see that too.
She drew closer to the window. ‘’Tis fortunate the fog is lingering. Is there any sign of movement outside?’
Robert frowned, his mouth a hard line. ‘Four Black Watchmen rode by, headed for the castle but two minutes ago.’ His gaze met Jessie’s. ‘Simon is persistent, I’ll give him that.’
Jessie clutched her black travelling cloak closer and her skin prickled with unease again. She’d considered stealing out the back to take one of the horses under the cover of the fog, but she was beginning to question whether it was all that wise to go anywhere unaccompanied, given that Simon was still actively searching for her. In fact, she was starting to wonder whether she might be better off staying with Robert. Despite the mistrust between them, despite her initial doubts about him, she couldn’t deny that he, above all others, made her feel safe.
Robert suddenly reached out and lifted her chin with gentle fingers, forcing her to look at him. ‘What is it, lass?’ His voice was soft and low but his gaze was searching. ‘Why are you so—’
The creak of the kitchen door opening made Jessie jump and Robert swear. He immediately tugged Jessie to the side of the parlour door, his dirk drawn. Her breath seizing, her heart crashing against her ribs, she watched Robert, amazed at his lightning reactions and apparent calmness. Yet as his hand gripped hers, she was also conscious of tightly reined in energy—a battle-hardened soldier about to strike.
‘’Tis only me, milord.’
Only Tobias. Thank God. Jessie sagged against the wall, her knees almost buckling beneath her.
Robert visibly exhaled also and gave her a tight smile before resheathing his dagger. He stepped into the kitchen. ‘How goes it out there, Tobias?’
‘Not verra weel, milord. Simon is still abed—he was up drinking until the wee hours according to his valet, Baird. But there are four verra impatient Watchmen waitin’ in the forecourt for him to rise. But Baird doesna ken when that will be … no one is game enough to wake him. My cousin Annie says that ever since Miss Munroe left,’ Tobias flicked Jessie a glance, ‘Mr Grant has been in the foulest temper she’s ever seen.’
Robert ran a hand down his face and sighed heavily. ‘You know, Simon will probably have his men watching the coaching inn as well, Jessie,’ he said tightly, a dark frown creasing his brow. ‘He’s making it almost impossible for you to catch that coach.’
‘I know,’ Jessie replied in a small voice, fear and despair clogging her throat. She hated being the fly in the ointment, ruining Robert’s plans. Even worse was the knowledge that her own plan to escape was destined to fail. She’d had no idea that Simon would be so dogged. She closed her eyes and dug her fingernails into her palms, willing herself to swallow her tears, not to give in. She needed to think. And she didn’t want to break down in front of Robert.
She felt Robert’s hand on her shoulder. ‘Perhaps my father can intercede, Jessie. For both of us.’
She nodded weakly. Perhaps … what other choice do I have?
‘Are you ready then, milord?’ Tobias asked.
Ready for what? Although her vision was blurred with tears, she narrowed her gaze on Robert. ‘I think it’s about time you shared yer plan, milord.’
* * *
Robert rubbed his jaw, guilt gnawing at his belly. Jessie regarded him warily, her eyes glistening with unshed tears and sharp suspicion. She knew something was afoot. And now was the time to tell her what was in store. The problem was, he knew she wasn’t going to be happy. He drew a deep breath and looked at her squarely. ‘Jessie, I’m going to leave you here with Tobias. You’ll be perfectly safe.’
Her face blanched. ‘You dinna trust me do you? Please … I beg you, let me go with you. I give you my word, I willna betray yer presence.’
Robert hesitated. Jessie was all but quaking with terror. It had initially occurred to him that perhaps she was play-acting, that her show of fear was just an elaborate hoax to get him inside the castle so she could then alert Simon or his stepmother about his return. But now, as he studied her ashen face, he discarded the idea. Why was Jessie so afraid to be left here with Tobias? If Simon was such a threat to her departure, surely it was safer if she stayed here, where she was hidden.
‘It’s better for everyone if I do this alone,’ he said carefully. ‘If something goes wrong … it’s better if you and Tobias are not implicated in aiding a wanted man. Tobias will look out for you.’
Jessie swallowed and licked dry lips. Her fear was a palpable thing. ‘I just want to help you. Tha’ was our deal. I must get to Edinburgh, I do no’ care how. But if Simon comes here looking for me again … I dinna think he will let me go.’
‘Jessie, it is more likely that you will encounter Simon inside the castle than if you remained here. Tobias will protect you.’
She shook her head, and grasped his hand, desperation clouding her golden-brown eyes. ‘Please, I would rather stay wi’ you …’
He searched her troubled face. Something clearly wasn’t right. Not at all. He glanced around the room at the smashed bottle and tipped over chair. ‘Why are you so frightened, lass?’ he asked gently. ‘Has Simon done anything to harm you? There’s something you’re not telling me, I know it.’
Her eyes grew wide for an instant, her pupils dilating in panic. Then her eyelids fluttered downward. She wouldn’t look at him. ‘It doesna matter …’ Her voice was barely above a whisper. Her cheeks burned red.
She was ashamed to tell him. Anger flared inside him. Simon had hurt her in some way, he was sure of it. But whatever it was, she was obviously reluctant to confide in him. He was determined to find out what was really going on.
But right now was not the time to question Jessie further. With every passing minute, it was more likely that Simon and for that matter, his stepmother would be rousing for the day. And with that would come increased activity in and around the castle.
He made a snap decision. ‘All right, Jessie, you can come with me.’
She grasped his arm, almost collapsing with rel
ief before him. ‘Thank you Robert,’ she said on a shaky exhale. ‘You willna have any cause to regret yer decision, I swear it.’
Robert glanced over to Tobias who had been trying to remain as inconspicuous as possible during the tense exchange. ‘You may as well head off. The rest of the plan remains the same.’
Tobias looked uncertain but nodded. ‘If you are sure, milord.’
‘I am, Tobias.’ Robert walked over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. He knew the best and safest place for the lad to be right now was far away from him should anything go wrong. ‘You have done more than enough to help. There’s no sense in waiting around for my father’s verdict on whether he will assist me or not. It’s best you go back to The Phoenix. Besides, if all does go well for me, I’ll be seeing you and Drummond in Edinburgh before you both set sail again.’
Tobias bowed his head. ‘As you wish, milord. Godspeed to you.’
Robert smiled and gave him one last clap on the shoulder. ‘Good lad. Give my regards to Drummond won’t you. And Godspeed to you, Tobias.’
Once the back door clicked shut, Robert barred it against any other unexpected visitors, then turned to Jessie. ‘Is there a lantern or an oil lamp about, lass?’
She narrowed her eyes and looked quizzically at him for a moment, but then quickly retrieved a lantern, as well as tinder from a dresser near the fireplace. ‘We are going somewhere dark I take it?’
‘Very,’ Robert smiled back at her before swiftly striking the tinder and lighting the lantern’s wick. ‘You’re not afraid of dark tunnels are you? Or secret passages?’
Jessie eyed him suspiciously. ‘Nay … you really didna need me to help you at all, did you?’
Robert ignored her question and flashed her a grin instead; he was pleased to see that she was no longer shaking and that she even blushed a little at his smile. Picking up the oil lantern in one hand and grasping Jessie’s hand firmly with the other, he led her toward the Gate-House’s cellar door. ‘Come with me.’
* * *
Robert’s grasp was warm and reassuring as they descended into the cellar.
Although she had been more than a little frustrated with Robert for taking so long to reveal his secret strategy—a strategy that had involved leaving her behind—Jessie cared not a fig where he was going to lead her now. She trusted him. After all she had been through over the last two days, she now knew without a doubt that she could count on him to keep her safe. Her initial reason for claiming she was hand-fasted to Simon—to protect herself from Robert—now seemed utterly absurd. After Robert was reunited with his father, she swore she would tell him the truth.
She watched with interest as Robert went to one of the far, dark corners of the cellar. After placing the lantern on a disused crate, he ran his hands along the roughly hewn bricks until he located one that seemed to be loose, and without too much effort, levered it out. He put his hand inside the dark recess and pressed down on something that made a decided click. A part of the back wall immediately grated open a fraction.
Robert replaced the brick and beckoned to her. ‘Do you think your ankle is up to this, Jessie?’
‘I think so.’ She would not be left behind. ‘I will do my best no’ to slow us down.’
‘Good lass.’ He gave her a quick smile and then he took her hand again to guide her into the underground tunnel beyond. A blast of stale frigid air hit her. When the door closed behind them, they were immediately plunged into inky blackness save for the pale flickering flame of the oil lantern. Jessie couldn’t quite suppress a shiver.
As if sensing her unease, Robert drew her close and squeezed her hand. ‘Courage, Jessie. Tobias was down here yesterday and he assures me the way is clear.’
‘Where does it lead to?’ she asked, following Robert through the heavy darkness. The stone floor of the tunnel was uneven and sloped slightly downwards.
‘To the wine cellar. When my great-grandfather had the castle constructed he opted for escape tunnels in the event of attack rather than installing a moat, drawbridge and fortified walls. There’s another tunnel that forks off this one to the loch, but Tobias says part of the wall in that one has collapsed and would need digging out. Rising damp from the ground near the loch has probably weakened the rock.’ Robert glanced back at her and she saw the flash of his smile even in the weak light. ‘But never fear. That’s not the case with this tunnel.’
They continued walking for an indeterminate amount of time, Robert carefully leading her around the occasional protruding rock or warning her to duck when the ceiling became low. The cold was damp and penetrating. By the time they reached another bricked doorway, Jessie was shivering in earnest.
Again Robert located a latch and the door reluctantly scraped open. Stepping through, Jessie could see that they were indeed within a wine cellar. Rows and rows of casks and bottles lay neatly stacked in racks that stretched away into the darkness. She heard the dull thud of the door closing behind them and then Robert was leading her toward a set of stairs.
‘Careful where you step.’ Robert indicated a pile of rusted chains and manacles in their path.
Jessie looked down and stopped as the import of their presence here struck her. ‘This is where Simon had you chained up? Like an animal?’ She gripped Robert’s hand, her eyes welling. ‘Oh my God, Robert. How could he? You were wounded …’ Even in the dim light, she could see the mortar between the flagstones was stained, undoubtedly with Robert’s blood. Bright, white-hot anger sparked in her heart; the evidence of Simon’s cruelty took her breath away.
Robert shrugged, then reached out and brushed a thumb across her cheek, wiping away a spilled tear. ‘It was long ago, lass. Dry your tears. I’m not worth it.’
Without thinking, Jessie pressed his hand against her face. ‘Aye, you are, Robert Grant. What Simon did was wrong. Verra wrong.’
Holding her gaze, Robert drew her hand to his lips and glanced a kiss across her knuckles. His mouth was warm, his lips oh, so soft; this time when Jessie shivered it wasn’t with cold. Heat scalded her cheeks and she couldn’t rip her gaze from his. If only things were different, for both of us. Robert Grant might just be the man to win my heart and hand …
The lantern’s flame momentarily dimmed and Robert sucked in a breath, shaking his head as if waking from a dream. ‘Come, let’s go, mo ghaoil. It’s time I stopped putting off this meeting with my father.’
Instead of ascending the stairs, Robert lead her to the alcove beneath them, where several barrels were stacked. After handing the lantern to her, he pushed the barrels aside and pressed on one of the wooden panels that appeared to be part of the back wall. Another door swung open, revealing a narrow set of stairs concealed behind the wall. ‘This will take us to the hall where my father’s rooms are,’ he said, reaching for her hand again.
Although he appeared outwardly calm, Jessie sensed a growing tension in Robert; a muscle worked in his jaw and his grip on her hand was so tight, it was almost uncomfortable. With a jolt, she suddenly realised its source. ‘How do you feel, about seeing yer father after all this time?’ she asked softly.
To her surprise, Robert’s mouth pulled into a lopsided grin. ‘Nervous as hell,’ he admitted. ‘But there’s no going back now.’ He took the lantern then ushered her into the stairwell, encouraging her to take the stairs first. ‘You set the pace, Jessie. I wouldn’t want you to trip if I hurry you along too much.’
Jessie nodded and lifting her skirts, began the ascent up the steep and narrow stairs.
The lantern gave off just enough light that she could see her way forward without too much trouble. However, her ankle soon started to give her grief. Ignoring the sharp twinges as best she could, she continued to climb. At one point she stumbled, gasping with both pain and alarm. Robert caught her, holding her steady against the solid wall of his chest.
‘I’ve got you. How’s your ankle?’ His breath was warm against her ear.
‘A wee bit sore but I will be all right,’ she whisp
ered back, thankful he had suggested she go first. He must have anticipated something like this. ‘Thank you for catching me.’
She felt his lips curve in a smile against her ear. ‘It’s my pleasure, Jessie. It’s not everyday a bonnie lass falls into my arms.’
‘Hmph. That’s what you say, Robert Grant, but I’m no’ inclined to believe you,’ Jessie said, trying to ignore the fluttering of her pulse in response to his words and the feel of his strongly muscled arm about her waist. ‘Yer rakish smile is far too well-practiced. I’m sure bonnie lasses fall for you all the time.’ When she pulled away, she couldn’t have said for certain, but she strongly suspected that Robert had muttered that she truly was a wicked wench. She grinned.
By the time she reached the top of the stairs, she was breathless but relieved the painful climb was over. If for some reason she had to run though … She closed her eyes, praying it wouldn’t come to that. She had to trust that Simon was such a slugabed that he wouldn’t have risen yet. And now was definitely not the time to lose her nerve. She drew the hood of her cloak over her telltale hair, preparing for the next, most hazardous part of their mission.
Robert gently pushed past her as she leaned against the stone wall, before carefully hanging the lantern on a small hook above her head. The wicked wench within her suddenly had the urge to throw her arms around his broad chest and draw in his masculine scent, to take pleasure in his strength one last time. But she didn’t. She didn’t want to distract Robert or seem any more of a burden. In the dim, flickering light she could just make out that he was tense too; his face was drawn, his mouth a tight line.
He placed his ear to the panel-like wooden door in front of them. ‘Fingers-crossed it’s all clear, Jessie,’ he whispered. Then he released the catch and pushed.
Chapter Eight
The door swung open onto a wide hallway that was heartbreakingly familiar. Robert paused on the threshold, his heart clenching in the oddest way. He was home.
The Master Of Strathburn Page 14