The Storm Breaks (The Jacobite Chronicles Book 4)

by Julia Brannan

  As the MacGregors collapsed in hysterics around the fire and the remaining MacDonalds looked on in bemusement, Alex covered his face with his hands in despair.

  “Ye dinna learn, do ye?” he said half an hour later, when the merriment had subsided and the MacGregors had finally settled beneath their plaids around the fire. “I go to great pains to get ye a present, and is this the thanks I get?”

  “It wasn’t the present that inspired the song, it was the statement that accompanied it,” Beth said unrepentantly. “You shouldn’t issue challenges if you’re not prepared to have them taken up.”

  It wasna a challenge, it was a piece of advice!” he said. “I should have known better. How the hell am I going to get respect and obedience from my men, when I canna even get it from my wife?”

  “Alex,” said his wife. “I can’t move. Could you…”

  “Aye, that’s the general idea,” he interrupted from above her.

  She struggled ineffectually for a minute or two.

  “My nose is itching!” she said finally.

  “Is it?” he replied, unconcerned.

  Unable to do anything else, she wrinkled her nose furiously in an attempt to relieve the itch. With no success.

  “Anyway,” she said, trying flattery, “you do have the respect of your men. They’re all terrified of even exchanging a cross word with any other clan in case you string them up from the nearest tree.”

  She paused. He did not move.

  “And I obeyed you today, didn’t I?” she continued. “I stayed on the horse all day!”

  “Aye, ye did, that’s true,” he admitted.

  He bent his head and gently nuzzled the end of her nose, which, whilst being quite pleasant in its way, did not relieve the itch.

  “Well, then,” she said. “Will you at least let my arm go, so I can…”

  “No,” he interrupted. “Ye need to be punished. Have ye heard of the Chinese water torture?”

  “No,” she said, bracing herself for a dip in the icy river.

  “It’s verra effective, I’ve been tellt,” Alex said conversationally. “They tie the victim down so he canna move, and then they drip water slowly and regularly on his forehead.”

  “Is that all?” she said, interested in spite of her predicament.

  “Aye, it doesna sound much, but after a few days of water constantly dripping on your head, ye’ll do anything to get it to stop. After a week or so, ye’ll go mad. I’m just wondering if the ‘itchy nose’ torture would be as effective.”

  “I doubt it,” Beth replied. “For one thing, my nose will stop itching by itself after a while. And for another thing, you can hardly lie here like this for a few days. We’re crossing into England tomorrow, and you’ll definitely lose the respect of your men if you don’t lead them over the border.”

  “True. But I can try it for an hour or so, and see what effect it has,” he said, settling down. He blew gently on her nose, exacerbating the itch.

  “Oh!” she cried. “That’s cruel!”

  He smiled nastily. There was silence for a few moments. He blew again, very softly. Beth heartily regretted having told him of her itch, which was getting much worse, partly because she was thinking about it.

  “Anyway, there are advantages to being trapped like this,” she said. “I’m actually warm all over for the first time in days.”

  This was true. The heather under her was springy and dry. And the man lying on top of her was acting as an extremely effective, if somewhat heavy, heated blanket.

  The heated blanket remained in place.

  “I didn’t betray you completely,” she continued after a while. “They still don’t know all the story. Angus didn’t tell them the most interesting part, because he doesn’t know it. Yet,” she added, when this roused no response.

  “What’s that, then?” he asked.

  “Your first formal words of greeting to your prince after climbing out of the night soil cart.”

  Alex shifted slightly, but not enough to allow her to free her arm. He obviously thought she was bluffing.

  “Let me see if I can remember them exactly as he told them to me,” she said. Her brow creased in concentration. “’Piss off, you damned molly, before I run you through,’” she quoted. “Charles said you seemed to be in a very bad temper indeed. Lucky he realised you hadn’t recognised him and saw the funny side of it, wasn’t it? I’m sure your clansmen will too. When I tell them.”

  Alex muttered something incomprehensible under his breath.

  “He lied to ye,” he said. “Those werena the words I used at all.”

  “Oh, well, if you want to be pedantic,” Beth said airily, “the actual words were ‘thalla ‘s cach…’”

  “Isd!” he said in alarm, clapping one hand over her mouth and inadvertently freeing her arm in the process. She scratched her nose furiously. “I canna believe he actually tellt ye that! Does he no’ ken how evil lassies can be?”

  “Presumably not, seeing as he keeps aloof from them. He also told me that when he’d stopped laughing and introduced himself, you were extremely mortified, although it wasn’t until the second time you met that he revealed he was familiar enough with the sounds of Gaelic to remember what you’d said and repeat it to Balhaldie, who obligingly translated for him.”

  “Aye,” said Alex, smiling in spite of his attempts to remain forbidding. “Which is another reason to add to the list why I willna accept Balhaldie as my chief. I’m no’ surprised he betrayed me. You,” he said, glaring down at his wife, “are an entirely different matter.”

  “I haven’t betrayed you,” she said. “I haven’t told anyone. Only you, Charles, and I know. You made me promise not to tell the end of the story in the barn last week. And I’ll keep my promise.”

  “If…” he supplied.

  “If you perhaps remind me of the method you used in the barn to extract the promise in the first place. I remember it was rather pleasant, but the details are a little hazy…ooh!”

  * * *

  “I’m still not sure it’s a good idea for us to be here,” said Edwin, accosting his wife in a quiet corner of the room after dinner.

  “I am,” Caroline asserted. “This is the first social event Anne’s put on since Anthony and Beth vanished, and it’s taken a lot of courage to do it. I want to support her all I can.”

  “The Winters aren’t here,” Edwin pointed out.

  “No, the cowards. You’d think being a traitor was an infectious disease, the way they’ve behaved. Just when she needs all the support she can get from her family, too.”

  “It is an infectious disease, in a way. Edward doesn’t look too happy, either.”

  “No, but at least he’s here. Ah, Isabella! How are you?” Caroline said brightly as the older woman came within hearing.

  “Very well,” responded Isabella, somewhat nervously. Obviously she expected to be slighted, as had happened in many quarters recently.

  “It was a wonderful meal, don’t you think?” continued Caroline. “Anne is looking very well.”

  “Oh, yes!” cried Isabella. “And little Georgie is adorable! Have you seen him?”

  “No,” said Edwin. “He was in bed when we arrived. We were a little late, I’m afraid. Parliamentary business, you know.”

  “Of course, you must be very busy at the moment, Mr Harlow,” said Anne, who had moved to join them. “I’m so grateful that you made the time to attend my little dinner.”

  “We wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” said Caroline. “I was just saying how well you’re looking.”

  “Although you must be missing Richard dreadfully!” cried Isabella.

  “Yes,” replied Anne unconvincingly.

  “Have you heard from him recently?” asked Lord Edward.

  “No. But I am sure he is very busy. And the mail is so unreliable in times of war.”

  “I don’t doubt but he’ll be coming home soon,” said Edward. “A great number of our troops are, now the French
have gone into winter barracks. He’ll be more use than the bloody Dutch, that’s for certain. A lot of them have said they can’t fight now because of some ridiculous treaty the French have signed.”

  “The Treaty of Fontainebleau,” supplied Edwin. “The French have promised armed assistance to the Pretender’s son, and that means that a lot of the Dutch troops can’t fight for us, because they’d previously agreed not to fight against allies of the French.”

  “Damn fools,” muttered Edward. “Waste of time and money bringing them over. Still, now Cumberland’s back, him and Wade’ll soon show those damn savages who’s boss, eh?”

  “Is the duke going to Edinburgh with General Wade, then?” asked Anne.

  “God, no,” said Edward. “The rebels are on the move. I thought everyone knew that. They’re probably in England by now.”

  Anne blanched.

  “I haven’t been out a lot recently,” she stammered. “I’m quite out of touch, I fear. I had no idea the Pretender’s son was in England. Oh, that’s terrible!”

  Clarissa and Lydia had now joined them, making it quite a large group.

  “It is,” said Lydia with relish. “Father tells me that the rebels, the men that is, all wear skirts that are so short as to be positively indecent in a breeze! And they can walk forty miles a day with ease, and when they enter a village, they kill all the men, ravish the women, then roast and eat the children!”

  Clarissa uttered a horrified scream. Anne looked about to faint.

  Edwin shot Lydia a look of the utmost contempt.

  “I don’t believe for a moment that your father told you all that,” he said bluntly.

  “Well, no, not all of it,” she admitted, blushing. “But it’s common knowledge. Everyone knows it.”

  “What will we do?” said Anne faintly, no doubt thinking her plump little son would not have a chance if the Jacobites reached London with an appetite.

  “You don’t need to do anything, my dear Anne,” called the Earl of Highbury from the next group. “General Wade is already in Newcastle with a formidable force, waiting to intercept the rebels as soon as they cross the Esk.” He walked across to join them. “Really, Miss Fortesque, I thought you would know better than to spread such ridiculous gossip. The rebels may dress outlandishly, but the rest is just idle and dangerous rumour, with no foundation in truth whatsoever.”

  Lydia subsided into a sulky silence.

  “I haven’t had the chance to thank you for attending my evening, my lord,” said Anne gratefully, her voice still shaking a little. The earl’s presence was indeed a coup; known to be unfailingly loyal to the Hanoverian cause, any acquaintance of his was assumed to be beyond reproach; except for Sir Anthony of course, but then even the king himself had been duped by the fop, and it was, after all, Highbury’s son who’d denounced him. No, the Winters would regret having made their excuses tonight, and all Anne’s future parties would be well attended.

  The object of her gratitude smiled.

  “I would not have missed such excellent food for the world,” he said. “Thank you for inviting me. Such a shame Daniel could not be here, but he has business elsewhere. He sends his apologies.” The earl smiled knowingly at Caroline, who had indeed dreaded the appearance of his arrogant offspring, and now felt distinctly uncomfortable, recognising that Highbury was aware of it.

  “Do you think then that Wade will succeed where Cope failed, my lord?” she said, to cover her embarrassment.

  “I am sure we will soon find out. Wade is old and infirm, but still sound of mind, but one should not underestimate the Pretender’s son.”

  “Nonsense! He’s a mere child, at the head of a bunch of savages. An organised army will soon send him back to Rome where he belongs,” scoffed Edward.

  “The ‘bunch of savages’, as you call them did well enough against Cope’s organised army, did they not?” retorted Caroline without thinking. “Cope didn’t stop running until he got to Berwick, did he?”

  Everyone looked at her, stunned by this apparently Jacobite statement. She couldn’t see Edwin from where she was standing, but she could feel his anger directed at her back, and cringed inwardly. A politician’s wife should be more circumspect.

  “You’re quite right, Caroline,” said Highbury smoothly. “Prestonpans was a great victory for the rebels because Cope underestimated them, thought them a mere bunch of savages indeed. They proved him wrong. I am sure Wade will not make the same mistake.”

  “No, I’m sure he won’t,” said Anne faintly. She had no idea what was going on, only that Caroline had clearly said something wrong, and was very embarrassed. And was her friend. “I have laid a few tables out in the salon,” she said, hoping to change the subject. “I rather hoped some of you might like to play…”

  “This is what comes of associating with the wrong sort,” Edward said unexpectedly to Edwin. “I’m surprised you allow it, sir.”

  “Allow what?” asked Edwin, thoroughly baffled.

  “Oh, that would be lovely, Anne!” said Isabella desperately. “Would you care for a game of quadrille, Edward?”

  “Not now, Isabella,” her brother replied impatiently. “Why, allow the Browne girl to call on your wife, of course.”

  “I am teaching her to write, Edward,” said Caroline calmly, although she was angry that Edward had spoken as though she wasn’t present. “In return she styles my hair for free. It is a mutually beneficial arrangement.”

  “Miss Browne is very accomplished. Your hairstyle this evening becomes you, my dear Caroline. It is very elegant and complements your beauty perfectly, if I might be so bold as to say,” said Highbury, reminding her of Anthony’s overblown compliments, although he was merely speaking the truth.

  “I have forbidden my sisters to attend her establishment,” continued Edward, as though neither Caroline nor the earl had spoken. “I would advise you to do the same.”

  “My wife is perfectly capable of choosing her own acquaintance, Lord Edward,” said Edwin formally.

  “Edward…” began Isabella plaintively.

  “Obviously not,” Edward stated. “One cannot be too careful in these times. You need to take your wife in hand. Caroline clearly needs reminding that the girl was the personal servant of a denounced traitor, and as such it would be well to have no further contact with her.”

  “Really?” said Edwin icily. “I had no idea that Sarah was Anthony’s maidservant. I thought she was Elizabeth’s. I am surprised that you think your own cousin to be guilty of treason, when most of London thinks of her as no more than another of Anthony’s victims, as we all are. But if Elizabeth is also a traitor, as you clearly believe, then may I remind you that you are the cousin of one. In which case, I am sure you will understand if I have no further contact with you. Goodnight to you, sir.”

  “Well, really!” Caroline heard Edward splutter as Edwin took her arm and led her away. “I am sure I only spoke out of consideration for his reputation. What’s the matter with the man?”

  “Thank you, Edwin,” said Caroline, when they were in their carriage. She had never seen him lose his temper in public before, and was somewhat concerned. “Are you all right?”

  “No, of course I’m not all right!” he said hotly. “I haven’t had enough sleep for weeks, I’m worried sick about the rebels, who, I assure you are at least being taken seriously by the people who matter, and to top it all, I then attend a party when I would much rather be in bed, only to have my wife merrily throw tactless opinions around. And to top it all, that pompous idiot decides to insult both your intelligence and my manliness, when he possesses not a scrap of either quality himself! No, I am not all right!”

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t have said what I did about Cope.” She leaned across and took his hand.

  “You were right,” he replied, curling his fingers around hers. “Six months ago no one would have thought anything of what you said. But times have changed, Caro. Everyone is jumpy. People are being arrested on th
e most flimsy pretexts. Everything anyone says that can be misconstrued will be. And we were particular friends of Anthony’s. We must be especially careful.”

  “Thank you for defending me,” she said.

  “It’s a husband’s duty to defend his wife,” he replied. “It was also a pleasure.”

  “Do you want me to stop having Sarah round to the house?” she asked suddenly. “Edward might have stopped his sisters going to her, but no one else has. Her business is booming, she assures me.”

  “Until tonight, if you’d asked me that question, I might have said yes,” Edwin replied. “But now if you refuse to see her any more, Edward will think I’ve taken his advice. I’m sure Sarah’s as innocent as we are, and what you’re doing is a kindness. I admire her business acumen, and being able to write can only help her. But on the other hand, she was Beth’s maid. You’ve never let what society thought influence you before, though.”

  “I couldn’t care less what Edward and company think,” she said. “I’ll adopt Sarah as a sister if I want. But I do care what you think. Will it damage your reputation if I’m known to be associating with Beth’s ex-maid?”

  He smiled at her. Now his anger had faded, he felt unutterably weary.

  “No,” he said. “Although we need to avoid any public statements of apparent admiration for the rebels, you were right when you said that no one could accuse me of anything without accusing the king. Everyone except the gossips wants to sweep the whole Anthony affair under the carpet and forget it. I don’t mind you helping Sarah, really I don’t. I like her, to be honest.”

  They travelled in silence for a while, hands entwined.

  “Do you know what else annoyed me tonight?” Edwin said suddenly.

  “You missed Anthony and Beth.”

  He looked at her, surprised.

  “How did you know?”

  “I know because I did too. I miss them all the time. The whole evening was flat, somehow. At dinner I kept hoping Anthony would prance in and get the whole company in a roar in seconds, or that Beth would appear and say something provocative and throw wine at Edward. Anything to liven things up a bit. I suppose we made a good attempt at filling their shoes tonight, though.”