The Master Of Strathburn

by Amy Rose Bennett

  Jessie’s breath hitched. She opened her mouth to speak but the sound jammed in her throat. He didn’t want her here. What had she been thinking? Perhaps he had meant to leave her at the inn in Invercauld after all. She’d obviously been mistaken about his feelings for her. Tears suddenly scalded her eyelids. She knew she should go, but she couldn’t move, frozen to the spot by Robert’s penetrating blue gaze.

  She felt Janet at her elbow taking the basket from her arm. ‘Lord Lochrose, Miss Munroe thought ye may like some provisions … to make yer stay more comfortable.’

  Robert dragged his eyes away from Jessie to briefly acknowledge Janet. Then within the space of a heartbeat he took two strides toward Jessie and enveloped her in his arms. He buried his face in her hair.

  ‘Jessie, Jessie my love,’ he murmured against her ear. ‘I’m such an idiot. I didn’t mean that I didn’t want to see you. I just can’t believe that you would set foot in this godforsaken place. After all you’ve been through, this is the last place I would want you to be. You could have just sent word to me.’

  Jessie drew a ragged sigh, relief flooding through her. He had called her my love. He cared for her. He was worried about her. She pressed her damp cheek into his linen shirt, breathing in the musky scent of him, drinking in the warmth of his hard chest as he crushed her against his body.

  ‘I wanted to see tha’ you were all right,’ she whispered. ‘I just had to know …’

  Robert gently pushed her away from him, his eyes searching hers. ‘You had to know if I was all right,’ he said shaking his head, the lopsided half smile she loved so much tugging at the corner of his wide beautiful mouth. ‘Jessie, if you only knew how worried I’ve been about you. At the inn, when Simon had me arrested, he knew you were there also. I’ve been going mad, not knowing what happened to you.’ Robert’s eyes sparked with sudden blue fire and his grip on her shoulders grew harder. ‘Tell me, Jessie, did he hurt you? I have to know. Because if he did …’ The unspoken, deadly intent was clear in Robert’s expression.

  Jessie reached out to stroke his stubbled cheek. ‘He didna hurt me, Robert.’ She quickly explained what had happened at the inn—how MacTaggart had woken her to warn her about his arrest and Simon’s imminent visit, and then how the chivalrous Watchman had protected her. ‘If it hadna been for Captain MacTaggart … I can barely stand to think o’ what might have happened … I was hoping that he would have got word to you that I was safe, but he must have been prevented from doing so.’

  Robert raised a sardonic eyebrow. ‘Simon’s interference no doubt. I’ll make sure my father gives the good captain a commendation. If I get to see my father that is,’ he added somewhat wryly.

  Jessie smiled. ‘Yer father is here in Edinburgh, Robert. He left Lochrose wi’ yer stepmother soon after Simon had mounted his pursuit. He suspected trouble an’ wanted to be able to plead yer case in person with the Lord Advocate if that was so needed, as indeed it is.’

  ‘How do you know all this?’ asked Robert smoothing one of her wayward curls behind her ear.

  Jessie thrilled to his touch, but answered his question nonetheless. ‘After you were taken, I decided to travel back to Lochrose to ask yer father fer help. We met along the road to Port-na-Craig, an’ I journeyed the rest o’ the way here in his carriage. I stayed at yer family’s townhouse in Auldgate Square last night.’

  Robert’s eyes narrowed with concern. ‘And where did Simon stay? He’s here in Edinburgh attempting to orchestrate my demise no doubt.’

  ‘Yer father ordered him away as soon as we arrived,’ she replied. ‘He was intending to secure lodgings at the White Horse Inn.’

  ‘Hmm, I’m sure my dear brother will be lurking somewhere close to gloat over my misfortune,’ said Robert with a cynical twist to his smile. Turning his back on the guard outside and Janet, who had by this time, retreated a discrete distance to the shadow of the doorway, he suddenly pulled her back into the circle of his arms and buried his face in her hair. ‘You should go, my love,’ he murmured. ‘You’ve lingered long enough in this dreadful place.’

  ‘There’s no place I’d rather be right now,’ she whispered, turning her face upwards, willing him to kiss her. She didn’t care that Janet and the guard waited nearby.

  And it seemed Robert didn’t either. She saw the smile in his eyes in the moment before he lowered his head to take her willing mouth in his.

  Who’d have thought heaven could be found in a gaol cell? She sighed into him, willingly parting her lips as his tongue gently explored her mouth with slow, deep, tantalising strokes. She cradled his jaw, rough with bristles, then wound her hands into his dark hair, pulling him closer, wanting this bittersweet kiss full of promise and yearning to go on and on, to never end; all the while praying that this would not be their last kiss.

  But too soon, Robert gently untangled her hands from his hair and broke the contact of their mouths. Like her, he was slightly breathless. And smiling.

  The guard pointedly cleared his throat. ‘Time’s up, I’m afraid, Lochrose,’ he called.

  Jessie felt herself blushing. She reluctantly stepped away from Robert but he did not release her hands.

  ‘Goodbye, my beloved,’ he murmured then kissed her fingertips.

  ‘Do no’ say goodbye, Robert.’ Jessie put a finger to his lips. ‘I couldna bear it, if this was goodbye. You will be pardoned. I’m certain of it.’ With great effort, she withdrew from Robert’s embrace and moved toward the door. When she turned to look at him one last time, he smiled. And then the guard swung the cell door shut.

  The resounding clang seemed as final as any death knell.

  Janet touched her arm. ‘Come on, miss.’

  Jessie followed the girl along the corridor to where her uncle waited to escort them out. Catching sight of the Mercat Cross again, Jessie paused, an unbidden image of Robert kneeling before the executioner’s block appearing in her mind. Pain lanced through her heart and tears stung her eyes. Robert couldn’t die. She did not think she could bear it.

  And then she realised with heart stopping certainty that she was in love with this man. Completely.

  No matter that they had only spent a few days together. She knew she was in love with him as surely as night follows day. She decided then and there to do whatever was within her power to save Robert from a traitor’s death, even if that meant pleading with the Lord Advocate himself. And before she returned to Strathburn House on the Canongate, she would visit St Giles and pray for Robert with all her heart and soul. It was the least she could do.

  Chapter Fourteen

  When Jessie returned to the townhouse in Auldgate Square, she found Lord Strathburn had already been busy making arrangements to meet with the Lord Advocate.

  ‘Two o’clock this afternoon, Jessie my dear, that’s when we’ll get this all sorted out,’ he announced with a smile when she entered the drawing room.

  To her surprise, the earl looked remarkably well, despite the long and exhausting journey from Lochrose. Indeed, ever since Robert’s return, it appeared to her that a great burden had been lifted from the old man’s shoulders. There was now a twinkle in his eyes and a healthy colour in his face.

  Although it was puzzling in the extreme that Lord Strathburn did not seem the least bit concerned his son was incarcerated, awaiting trial for treason. She wondered at his absolute certainty that everything would work out.

  ‘So, I hear you have been to visit Robert,’ he said, gesturing for her to take a seat opposite him before the fire. ‘You were very brave to go there, my child. How did you find him? I trust that young Janet’s uncle, Angus McDonald, is looking after him adequately.’

  Jessie nodded, impressed by Lord Strathburn’s intelligence. ‘He seems well enough, my lord.’ Her brow suddenly furrowed with concern. ‘But I believe he is worried that he willna be so easily pardoned. As am I.’

  Lord Strathburn smiled reassuringly. ‘Lord Arniston and I are very good friends. He will be sure to secure a pardon from the
king. And while we wait for that, I am sure he will release Robert into my custody. By this evening he will be with us, just you wait and see.’

  ‘Oh yes, I can hardly wait.’ Lady Strathburn’s voice dripped with sarcasm as she glided into the room.

  Jessie immediately rose to her feet and bobbed a small curtsy as the countess installed herself in the wing chair beside her husband. As Lady Strathburn smoothed the skirts of her jade green silk gown, Jessie was reminded of a deadly snake, poising itself to strike. Sure enough, she did not have to wait long for one of the countess’s venomous comments.

  Fixing her cool green gaze on Jessie, her thin lips twisted into what could only be described as a cruel smile. ‘I’m looking forward to Robert’s return almost as much as your marriage to my stepson, Miss Munroe. A Jacobite and the factor’s daughter. Won’t that be the social event of the season?’

  Jessie felt heat creep into her cheeks as she hovered by her own chair, uncertain whether to stay or go after such a condescending remark. Humiliation warred with anger inside her. She was already highly aware that she was marrying above her station but she didn’t appreciate being addressed in such a contemptuous fashion. And she especially didn’t want to hear Robert being slighted.

  Lord Strathburn glared at his wife. ‘Now see here—’

  ‘My dearest husband,’ Lady Strathburn cut in, seemingly unconcerned by the earl’s anger, ‘when will you allow our other son to return home, seeing as you unceremoniously cast him out into the streets last night?’

  Lord Strathburn rose to his feet and looked down upon his wife. His eyes had narrowed to thin slits. ‘When hell freezes over as far as I’m concerned,’ he grated out, his voice shaking with scarcely concealed anger. ‘After all the lies and betrayal, not to mention his dissolute ways, Simon will be lucky to even get an allowance off me. And I’ll thank you to remember just who funds your extravagant ways also, my lady.’ The earl flicked the hem of his wife’s skirts with his walking stick.

  Lady Strathburn’s face grew visibly paler beneath her powder and the malicious glitter in her eyes was replaced with a look of fear. The scene was almost too much for Jessie to witness. She swallowed and looked away, awkwardness prickling along her skin. Although she felt the countess deserved to be brought down a peg or two, she felt conspicuous. An intruder.

  Still seemingly oblivious to Jessie’s presence, the earl continued. ‘Yes, you had better bite your viper’s tongue, dear wife, or you’ll soon find yourself mucking in with the horses in nothing but a burlap sack.’ Finished, with his scolding, he then crossed over to Jessie and offered her his arm to escort her from the room.

  When Jessie chanced a fleeting glance back at Lady Strathburn, the undisguised look of hatred that the woman shot her filled her heart with foreboding. She feared that when the viper struck again, it would be much worse than a barbed comment.

  * * *

  It didn’t take long for Lady Strathburn to retaliate. Not long after Jessie had retired to her bedchamber to rest a little before the appointment at Parliament Hall with the Lord Advocate, the countess entered her room without knocking, taking her completely by surprise.

  Jessie rose from her shepherdess chair and curtsied. ‘Milady?’ she enquired. Apprehension trickled like ice water down her spine.

  Lady Strathburn raked her with a disdainful gaze; she looked at Jessie as if she was something repellent she’d found stuck on the sole of her well-heeled shoe. ‘I have no idea what Lord Strathburn sees in you,’ she began.

  Calm, Jessie. She bit her tongue, certain that if she said anything, it would contain more than a few choice expletives. Lady Strathburn was obviously determined to belittle her and put her back in what she considered to be her rightful place—that of the hired help. Even though she knew it would provoke the countess, Jessie couldn’t resist the urge to raise her chin defiantly.

  Lady Strathburn didn’t miss the insult. She narrowed her eyes, her stare positively poisonous. ‘I can understand to a degree why my own son wishes to dally with you,’ she continued. ‘You obviously possess certain attributes—quite tawdry and obvious in my opinion—that men find alluring. But, the thought of you as my daughter-in-law, the wife of the Viscount Lochrose, is quite laughable.’

  Jessie felt heat rise to her cheeks, but she was determined this woman would not intimidate her. She had nothing to be ashamed of. ‘Well, yer husband an’ my Lord Lochrose obviously disagree with you, milady,’ she replied tightly.

  Lady Strathburn smirked. ‘You think you have made quite a catch don’t you? If my stepson escapes the executioner’s axe that is. But what do you really know about your betrothed, Jessie Munroe?’ She took a few swift steps closer and grasped Jessie’s upper arm, her fingers cruelly digging into the soft flesh right where Jessie’s bullet wound lay. Jessie gasped and tried without success to pull away. Tears of pain welled.

  Lady Strathburn’s face was an ugly leering mask. ‘Did you know your beloved Robert was quite the rakehell, just like his brother Simon? Before the Rebellion, I couldn’t count the number of young women he’d bedded. What makes you think that it will be any different with you? From what I hear, Lord Strathburn forced Robert into being hand-fasted to you, obviously in a vain attempt to curb his son’s wayward tendencies. Robert may think you a comely lass, but once he’s had you, if he hasn’t already, he’ll soon grow tired of you. Just like my Simon would have.’

  The countess released her arm and glided to the door, her wide, jade silk skirts practically hissing as they swept across the floor. She paused on the threshold and flicked one last barb Jessie’s way. ‘But it’s my hope that you won’t even be wed to begin with. Either Robert will be executed, or he will come to his senses and end this farce of a betrothal. Either way, I won’t have to suffer your presence in my household any longer.’

  Only when the door slammed shut, did Jessie give into the quaking in her legs. Sinking back onto her chair, she pressed her trembling fingers to her lips. The strength of Lady Strathburn’s animosity terrified her right down to her very bones. What lengths would this woman would go to, to remove her and perhaps even Robert, from her life?

  One thing was certain, Jessie did not really want to find out. But she feared that very soon, she just might.

  By the time the hall clock struck half-past one, Jessie’s nerves were stretched as tautly as a bowstring. As she waited beside the earl for the carriage to be brought round to the front of the townhouse, she was grateful that Lord Strathburn was happy for her to accompany him to his meeting with the Lord Advocate. Action of any kind felt better than sitting around on tenterhooks waiting to find out what Robert’s fate would be. And action would keep her from dwelling on when Lady Strathburn’s axe might fall.

  Although she felt there was nothing substantial that she could contribute to influence the Lord Advocate’s decision to grant Robert clemency, the earl had been quick to assure her that her presence would make a difference. ‘I happen to know that Lord Arniston would find it difficult to resist the request of one so fair,’ he said with a reassuring smile once they were both installed in the carriage. ‘And as long as Robert expresses a suitable amount of contrition and the intent to settle down, a pardon will be granted, I’m certain of it.’

  The carriage ride to Parliament Hall took only a short space of time. The building was located close by to where she had walked this morning—in fact, it was directly across from St Giles Cathedral and the Tolbooth Prison. The carriage drew to a halt on the cobbled square before an equestrian statue of the mounted form of King Charles II.

  It was with no small degree of apprehension that Jessie stared up at the Parliament’s grim Scottish Baronial style façade of grey brick and looming turreted towers. The dour-faced, black-robed and white-wigged court officials bustling in and out of the main entrance did not instil a feeling of confidence within her either. She consciously tried to slow her breathing and relax her fingers as she gripped the handle of the carriage door.

  Lord
Strathburn noting her unease, leaned forward and squeezed her other hand. ‘Courage, dear child. All will be well.’

  On alighting from the carriage, Lord Strathburn and Jessie were immediately greeted by a bewigged and elegantly robed gentleman who introduced himself as the secretary of the Lord Advocate; he was to escort them both to Lord Arniston’s chambers.

  If Jessie had been less nervous, she would have been able to admire the high vaulted ceiling of oak beams and magnificent stained glass windows as they traversed the main hall of the Parliament building. As it was, it took some effort—given the earl’s tendency to become short of breath and Jessie’s still considerably sore ankle—for both of them to keep apace with the secretary as he continued to lead them on through a series of corridors and up a flight of stairs until they eventually halted before a set of grand oak doors, guarded by a pair of scarlet-coated Scots Guards. At a nod from the secretary, one of the soldiers swung the doors wide to permit their entry into the room beyond.

  It appeared to be a waiting room or an antechamber of sorts, elegantly appointed with leather and heavy oak furniture. Floor to ceiling bookshelves lined two of the walls. A small fireplace, flanked by two high narrow windows, permitted a narrow view of the spire of St Giles and bleakly grey skies.

  The secretary indicated that they should take a seat by the fire, before he disappeared behind a door into another room. Heart slamming against her ribs, Jessie lowered herself onto one of the leather wingchairs, hoping they wouldn’t have to wait too long for Lord Arniston to make an appearance. The suspense was almost too much to bear.

  Lord Strathburn mopped his brow with a silk kerchief. ‘Hmm, a cup of tea right about now wouldn’t go astray would it, my dear?’

  Jessie nodded absently but seriously doubted if her stomach was in any state to partake of anything. Aside from being a little puffed and thirsty, Lord Strathburn showed no other sign of being uncomfortable or ill at ease. She was more than a little envious of his self-possession.