The Master Of Strathburn

by Amy Rose Bennett

  ‘So you have been staying in Grantown-on-Spey with Robert all this time?’ Lord Strathburn sounded dubious.

  Jessie blushed. ‘No, milord … no’ in Grantown. Mrs MacMillan suggested tha’ I stay at your hunting lodge rather than at the Strathspey Inn on my own … as it would be unseemly to stay in such a public place without a chaperone. I apologise if it was inappropriate o’ me to use your lodge, without yer express permission.’

  Lord Strathburn’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. ‘Miss Munroe, I’m beginning to suspect that your sudden departure had less to do with an imminent family crisis and more to do with my son Simon. You’ve been hiding from him, haven’t you?’

  Jessie’s heart began to pound and heat scalded her cheeks. She was loath to answer. If the earl continued along this vein, Robert would soon know that she had continually lied to him about her fictitious betrothal to his half-brother. Now that the moment was upon her, she couldn’t bear it.

  She could feel Robert’s gaze on her face and a wave of humiliation swept over her. She wished the floor would swallow her up.

  Lord Strathburn continued when she didn’t respond; his voice was now surprisingly gentle. ‘I may be old, Miss Munroe, but I have ears and eyes. This is not the first time that something like this has happened. I know what Simon is like. Unfortunately, you are not the first to have been the recipient of his … unwanted attentions.’ He moved toward Jessie and sat in a nearby armchair. ‘Believe me, my dear, I understand the situation better than you think.’

  Scraping together what was left of her courage, Jessie raised her gaze to the earl’s. ‘I think it would be best fer everyone if I went to stay with my cousin, milord.’

  Lord Strathburn nodded. ‘If that is what you wish, Miss Munroe, I shall do my utmost to make it so. I only wish that you had come to me for help sooner.’

  Jessie sighed shakily. ‘I didna want to create a fuss, milord, or make things difficult for my father. It just seemed easier to move away …’ She glanced up at Robert. What was he thinking? His posture was rigid, virtually motionless save for the twitch of a muscle in his jaw. He was angry with her and she couldn’t blame him. What a daft fool I’ve been.

  As her gaze skittered away, Robert squatted down before her. ‘Jessie, is all of this true? Has Simon been forcing unwanted attentions on you?’

  His deep blue eyes bore into hers and Jessie knew there would be no escaping the truth this time. Sucking in a breath, she lifted her chin and resisted the urge to look away. ‘Aye, it’s true.’

  Confusion flickered in Robert’s eyes. ‘Then you lied to me about being hand-fasted to Simon. Why did you do that? I don’t understand.’

  ‘What? Simon and Miss Munroe are hand-fasted?’ Lord Strathburn exclaimed.

  Robert glanced at his father. ‘I was led to believe that they were betrothed.’ He turned back to Jessie. ‘Tell me honestly. Is the betrothal all a lie?’

  Jessie lifted her chin a fraction higher, steeling herself to admit her perfidy. ‘Aye, I lied, Robert. But I prefer to think of it as … self-preservation.’ Now that her deception had been revealed, it was if she was daring Robert to censure her for her actions.

  Robert narrowed his eyes. ‘So I misinterpreted everything I saw at the loch.’

  ‘Yes,’ she admitted. ‘I tried to explain what had really happened that morning so many times, but I was alone and injured, an’ to be honest, more than a wee bit frightened. I didna know if you intended me harm. Then when I discovered tha’ you perceived me as a threat to yer safety, I didna think you’d believe me if I denied wha’ you had assumed to be true—tha’ I was Simon’s paramour. I know it sounds illogical, but I believed tha’ if you thought I was someone important, Simon’s betrothed, then perhaps you would see me as less … dispensable.’

  ‘Oh, Jessie lass. I must have come across as the worst kind of barbarian if you thought that I would harm you, just to protect myself from discovery. You should have told me that I was wrong about what I’d seen the other day.’ Robert suddenly gathered her into his arms and gently kissed her hair.

  ‘I couldna do it,’ she whispered into his shirt, hot tears stinging her eyelids. ‘I was too ashamed …’ Now that Robert understood how precarious her situation had been and the reason for her duplicity, an overwhelming relief washed through her. Feeling stronger, she raised her head from Robert’s shoulder and sought his gaze again. ‘Tha’ morning by the loch, Simon told me that if I didna do as he wanted, he would see tha’ my father lost his position here. But I couldna bring myself to give in to his demands … so I left. An’ you know the rest.’

  Robert stroked her hair away from her face, then gently wiped a tear from her cheek with the back of his fingers. ‘You will never have to suffer his presence again, Jessie. I will make sure of that.’

  She gave him a watery smile, amazed at his capacity for forgiveness. ‘I believe you.’

  Lord Strathburn cleared his throat pointedly. ‘Robert, please tell me that you haven’t been staying alone with Miss Munroe for the last two nights.’

  Robert turned and met his father’s gaze directly. ‘Circumstances beyond our control forced us together, Father, but let me reassure you that nothing untoward has occurred.’

  ‘But you have spent two nights together,’ persisted Lord Strathburn. ‘Isn’t that so, Miss Munroe?’

  ‘I’m afraid so, milord.’ Jessie’s whole face burned with embarrassment. ‘The first night we stayed at the hunting lodge … there was nowhere else to go, given tha’ I was injured … Although we were no’ entirely alone—Tobias, Robert’s squire, stayed at the lodge also. Then last night, when Robert and I stayed in the cave—’

  Lord Strathburn’s eyebrows shot upward. ‘You what?’

  Robert stood. ‘I was concerned that Simon would be out looking for Jessie with the help of dragoons or the Watch,’ he explained calmly. ‘We moved to somewhere more isolated last night to avoid detection. An encounter with the king’s men was the last thing I needed. We remained safe and no harm has been done. You need not be so concerned.’

  Lord Strathburn’s expression was grim. ‘Robert, regardless of the reason, you cannot overlook the seriousness of this situation. What will Jessie’s father think when he hears of this?’

  Jessie took a deep breath, praying for patience. ‘Lord Strathburn, as Robert said, no’ a thing occurred between us tha’ would be of concern—’

  ‘Miss Munroe, the mere fact that you have been virtually alone in the company of my son for two nights is enough to completely ruin you,’ Lord Strathburn admonished. ‘And I can see by the way Robert looks at you and holds you, that you have shared some degree of affection. You cannot deny it—it is obvious even to an old fool like me. Your father will be livid if you have been compromised, even by reputation only. I know he has high hopes of you marrying well one day. If you were my daughter, I would too.’

  ‘Perhaps it would be better if her father did not know then,’ suggested Robert carefully.

  Lord Strathburn shook his head. ‘Lying by omission will not change the reality of the situation, Robert.’

  ‘You’re right, Father. But why upset Jessie’s father needlessly, if nothing has happened?’

  ‘Are you sure about that? Despite your assurances to the contrary, it looks to me as if something has transpired between the two of you.’

  ‘What are you suggesting then?’ asked Robert, a note of impatience hardening his voice.

  ‘There is only one course of action that will set things to right,’ said the earl gravely. His steely blue gaze was uncompromising as he glanced between Robert and Jessie. ‘You two will have to be hand-fasted.’

  Jessie gasped. Oh Lord, surely the earl was jesting.

  Robert obviously thought so as well. ‘You cannot be serious.’ he burst out.

  ‘Oh, but indeed I am, my son,’ said Lord Strathburn, his mouth set in a determined line. ‘There is no other course of action open to you and Miss Munroe, considering the circumstances. I
will not stand by and let this poor lass be ruined. You will be hand-fasted in this room, this very day, before you leave here.’

  ‘But, Father,’ began Robert, striding away from Jessie toward the fireplace. ‘Surely that is not fair on Jessie, given that my future is far from bright at the present moment. I am a wanted felon. I’m sure Mr Munroe would be far from happy to have his daughter betrothed to someone like me.’

  ‘You will be pardoned, Robert,’ the earl declared as confidently as if he was simply stating a universal truth. ‘Lord Arniston is an old friend of mine. There won’t be a problem. And after you are pardoned, you two can return here to be wed at Kilburn Kirk. And besides,’ the earl smiled down at Jessie, ‘it is a fine match for Miss Munroe. She will be a Viscountess after all. Her father will be delighted.’

  Jessie’s mind was reeling, her heart galloping wildly. This attempt at matchmaking by Lord Strathburn was completely unexpected. It was heartening that he seemed so concerned for her wellbeing, but to suggest she should wed his son—it seemed unwarranted in the extreme.

  She hazarded a look at Robert. What must he be thinking? He ran a hand down his face. Judging by his scowl, he was exasperated at the very least. Perhaps even furious.

  When he spoke, it seemed to Jessie he was struggling to keep his tone even and measured. ‘Father, despite your faith in the Lord Advocate, there is still a significant chance that things could go awry. As I said before, I’m sure Jessie and her father would both prefer that her affianced wasn’t a man on the run, wanted for treason. I understand your concern for Jessie’s reputation, but perhaps it would be safer and wiser for a betrothal to take place after I have been pardoned.’

  Robert levelled a heavy look upon her. ‘And of course, if Jessie and her father consent.’ He arched a dark eyebrow. ‘What do you say, Jessie?’

  Jessie looked away from his questioning gaze, trying to think clearly. She could scarcely believe this was happening. Hand-fasted to Robert Grant—a Jacobite and adventurer—it was madness. But deep in her heart, she knew she wasn’t completely shocked by the earl’s suggestion. A small part of her thrummed with excitement at the thought of being joined in wedded union to such a man. Although she had only known him for a few days, she could not deny her deep attraction to him. She wanted to be near him. With him.

  But how did Robert feel about her? He seemed to care a little. Even the earl had already noticed that his son seemed to show a genuine concern for her safety and wellbeing.

  But was that enough of a basis to begin a marriage?

  She bit her lip, fervently wishing she had more time. Things were happening too quickly, spiralling out of control. Perhaps, when Robert was free and if he chose to propose to her, she would seriously consider such an offer. And then only perhaps if she thought he might love her and she loved him in return—a condition not always necessary for marriage, but in her mind, highly desirable. Especially when the man in question was a rakehell like Robert.

  So she couldn’t give her consent now. Neither of them should be forced into a marriage betrothal not of their choosing. And then there were the wishes of her father to consider. What would he want for her future?

  Jessie was conscious of both men staring at her, waiting for her to respond to Robert’s question. She lifted her gaze to the earl’s and cleared her throat. ‘I agree wi’ Robert, milord. I see no need to rush into anything. And I would prefer to have my father’s blessing before I accept a proposal of marriage.’

  Lord Strathburn’s gaze softened as he regarded her. ‘I understand lass, but as the Chief of Clan Grant of Strathburn, and guardian of all those within my household, I have a duty of care that I cannot ignore.’ He reached forward and took her hand. ‘I would much prefer that you were within the safe care of Robert, on your way to Edinburgh. I cannot allow you to make that long journey by yourself. Indeed, I could never forgive myself, and I very much think your father would hold me to account, if you were left unprotected. You’ve already suffered enough as it is, no thanks to Simon.’

  Lord Strathburn then stood and faced his son, an obstinate set to his jaw. ‘Robert, I insist that you and Miss Munroe are hand-fasted before me right now. I will not write the request for clemency until you do.’

  Even Jessie could see that Lord Strathburn would not be swayed. She suddenly had an inkling of how he must have appeared ten years ago when he had forbidden Robert to lead out the clan to war.

  Robert sighed heavily and raked a hand through his hair, as if suddenly resigned to his fate, like a man about to walk the scaffold. ‘As you wish Father,’ he replied gravely. ‘We will be hand-fasted. But,’ he turned to Jessie, ‘only if you consent.’

  Jessie stared at the breathtakingly handsome man before her noting with dismay the fine lines of tension around his eyes and bracketing his perfectly sculpted mouth. There was a muscle ticking in his jaw again while he waited for her reply. She realised that her response would determine whether or not Lord Strathburn would help him gain his pardon. He was essentially holding Robert to ransom. It was hardly fair.

  She raised her chin. ‘I had no’ anticipated this turn of events, Robert, and I am truly sorry to have placed you in such a situation.’ She paused for a moment before she stepped over the precipice of no return. Her heart began to beat faster, an unsteady gallop within her chest. She sensed that Robert was holding his breath. ‘But as I do no’ wish to stand in the way of yer chances at obtaining clemency … I will agree to be hand-fasted to you as well.’

  Robert inclined his head, the corner of his mouth lifting in a small smile. His gaze was inscrutable. She felt suddenly lightheaded as the enormity of what she had agreed to do hit her.

  Lord Strathburn rubbed his hands together and smiled broadly. ‘Excellent, all will be set to rights.’ He retrieved a long, fine wool scarf of Clan Grant tartan from his dressing room. ‘For the binding of hands,’ he remarked as he beckoned both Robert and Jessie over to the fireside.

  Robert assisted Jessie to her feet. The touch of his hands on her arm and at the small of her back seemed to burn through to the flesh underneath her clothes. She suddenly recalled how his hands had felt on her skin when he had helped her to undress in the hunting lodge. When they were married, it would be his right as her husband to see and touch her in any way he liked. She trembled at the thought.

  They took positions facing each other, before Lord Strathburn. Jessie looked up into Robert’s face. He looked serious, grim even. It was obvious he did not want to do this. Apprehension fluttered wildly in her stomach. This was not how she imagined her betrothal would be. She forced herself to slow the pace of her breathing and tried to focus on what Lord Strathburn was now saying.

  ‘Robert and Jessie, I want you to join hands,’ he said smiling at them both.

  At least he was happy. Robert grasped her hands in his and then the earl carefully wrapped the tartan scarf around their wrists and hands, binding them together.

  ‘Now, Robert,’ the earl continued. ‘I want you to repeat the following words after me.’

  Robert dutifully and solemnly repeated the simple vow of betrothal. His dark blue eyes held Jessie’s as he spoke. ‘I, Robert James Alexander Grant, the Viscount Lochrose and Master of Strathburn, promise to take you, Jessie Munroe, to be my wife.’ At the end, he squeezed her hands gently beneath the tartan and gave her a brief half-smile of encouragement.

  Now it was her turn. Jessie’s mouth was as dry as the nearby hearth stone and it was difficult to draw enough breath to speak. ‘I, Jessie Elizabeth Munroe promise to take you, Robert James Alexander Grant, the Viscount Lochrose an’ Master of Strathburn, to be my husband.’ She tried to smile back at Robert but only managed a tremulous quirk to her lips.

  Lord Strathburn addressed them again. ‘As the Chief of Clan Grant, I have born witness to your promises to each other, and I now declare you hand-fasted.’

  Robert took a step forward and raised their tied hands to his lips. Between the folds of tartan, he placed a gent
le kiss on her fingertips.

  ‘Mo nighean ruadh mhaiseach,’ he murmured in Gaelic, his wide mouth lifting into a soft smile. My beautiful red-haired one. ‘I will protect you and care for you, from this day forward.’

  But would he love her? Even more importantly, would he ever be free to love her?

  With all her heart, and every fibre of her being, Jessie prayed that he would.

  Chapter Nine

  Simon froze in the doorway of his room, the blood rushing straight from his head to his groin in a red hot torrent of furious lust. He couldn’t believe it. After the merry dance Jessie had led him for two whole days and nights, here she was, right under his nose. His quarry. Emerging from his father’s room as bold as you please, her skirts swaying around her ripe, completely fuckable arse. He couldn’t wait to bend her over and swive her senseless.

  ‘Jessie!’

  She turned, her full mouth a wide ‘O’ of surprise. He grinned. Imagine what it will feel like when you force her to use her mouth on your—But wait…who the hell was she with?

  Before Simon had time to even think on it a second longer, her companion—a tall, wide shouldered, dark-haired man—turned and fixed him with a cool, hard stare.

  Shit. Simon’s world slipped sideways. He clutched at the doorjamb and struggled to draw breath. Fucking no. No, no, no.

  Robert. But it couldn’t be Robert. Robert was supposed to be dead. What the devil?

  Even more incredible, the whore—his very own Jezebel—was holding hands with the bastard. Despite the denial roaring through Simon, a small part of his brain knew he wasn’t seeing Robert’s ghost.

  Somehow he scraped his voice together, the vitriol swirling inside him, roughening his voice. ‘Robert!’

  As Simon took a shaky step toward the pair, he saw that without a shadow of a doubt that it was Robert—only this man was broader and harder in body than the youthful Robert of ten years ago. Then before he could draw another breath, Robert’s older version released Jessie’s hand and closed the remaining distance between them as swiftly and silently as a predatory lion. Cocky. Even the way he walked hadn’t changed. It made Simon want to puke.