The Highland Commander

by Amy Jarecki

  After riding until dark, they stopped at Poyle Manor in Guildford, the stately home of the sheriff of Surrey and his family. Maddie had been assigned to a bedchamber she would share with the sheriff’s daughter, who seemed nice enough though she was but a child.

  After the evening meal, Maddie wanted to go anywhere but above stairs with the chatty lass. Her head throbbed, and worse, her heart felt as if it had been tied in a knot. She had no idea where to find Aiden. Not that it would have been proper for her to chase after him. Some of the gentlemen had retired to the drawing room with Prince George, though the marquis had declined the invitation and left the dining hall before anyone else. All Maddie could do was sit and watch.

  Moments ago the sheriff’s daughter had been called above stairs by her nursemaid to ready herself for bed. Maddie took advantage of the opportunity to collect her thoughts and ventured outside.

  If only she could be alone with Aiden and truly have an opportunity to talk with him. He’d been so despondent during the day’s ride. It was as if he didn’t want her near.

  Obviously he was grieving, and no one could fault him for that. Was he so filled with grief that he didn’t want to see her? Or did his indifference go deeper? Though he’d tried to visit her in Stonehaven, aside from the fleeting moment of passion aboard the Royal Mary, Aiden had been rather tepid toward her.

  Had that moment been stirring only for her? She couldn’t be certain.

  Maddie sighed. Now that Aiden had suddenly become a marquis, he would most likely shun her. The Marquis of Tullibardine surely would want to marry a highborn woman, not a woman like Maddie who’d been given a courtesy title. Heaven’s stars, she’d been shunned enough in her lifetime. Her stepmother and the snobbish ladies at court had made clear to Maddie her place—and it wasn’t at Whitehall. There she was but a tinker among the privileged.

  Right. So why on earth would I think Lord Tullibardine would be any different? He’s a Murray. Will he now side with the Whigs? Dear Lord, this is a disaster.

  Stubbing her toe, she stumbled forward but caught herself before she completely fell on her face. Though the weather was balmy for late September, darkness cast a blanket over the manor’s gardens, making it difficult to see. Ahead a light shone through the doorway of the stables. Maddie turned and looked at the house. A chat with a stable hand might be far more diverting than listening to Miss Woodroffe chatter. Perhaps Maddie could pay a visit to the gelding she’d ridden that day and offer him some oats.

  After she stepped through the doorway, the soft neigh of a horse down the alleyway caught her attention. Moths’ wings clicked against the glass of an overhead lantern, the only source of light.

  “Hello?” Maddie said, stepping farther inside while straw and dirt crunched beneath her feet.

  No one responded.

  Spying a barrel, she pushed back the lid and found exactly what she’d been looking for. She took a scoop from the wall and filled it with oats, then proceeded through the stable, peeking into every stall along the way. In the second to the last, her sorrel gelding snorted when she stopped. He looked at her with big, soulful eyes.

  “I’ll wager you’re weary after the day’s journey.” She carefully slid back the latch and slipped inside, then pulled the door closed behind. But she wasn’t fast enough with the oats. The horse shoved his nose in the scoop and pinned her against the wall.

  “Move off me, you beast.” She pushed his nose, only to be rewarded with a stamp of the hoof, mere inches away from her foot. “Goodness, and I thought you a gentlemanly horse.”

  When she tried to pull the scoop away, the gelding pinned his ears. Maddie’s stomach squeezed. Ear pinning definitely wasn’t a good sign when one was shut inside a stall with a horse. Worse, with one more slurp of his tongue, the oats disappeared.

  He shoved his nose into the scoop, giving another stamp.

  “Whoa, big fella,” said a deep voice as the stall door creaked open.

  “Aiden!”

  “Slip out behind me.” He slapped the gelding’s hip with a coil of rope, giving her enough space to skitter sideways out the door.

  After Aiden shoved the bolt back in place, he faced her. “By the way you rode, I would have thought you’d have more sense around horses.”

  “I am quite adept with them—at least I thought so. My garron pony in Stonehaven is a fair bit better trained in manners than this hackney.”

  “Well, ’tis a good thing I was here, else you could have been in dire straits.”

  “Thank you for coming to my aid.” Knitting her brows, Maddie peered through the stable—she’d walked the length of it and hadn’t seen a soul. “Where were you?”

  One corner of his mouth turned up, making a dimple dip into his cheek. “In the loft. I needed some time alone to think.”

  Maddie cringed. “And I spoiled your solace. Forgive me.”

  “Not to worry. I’m accustomed to being surrounded by people at all hours.”

  “I would imagine you are.” She bit her bottom lip. Why must she feel awkward at this moment? She hadn’t gone to the stable in search of Aiden—and he could have let the horse pin her against the wall. She would have found a way out of the incident. Somehow.

  He kicked a bit of straw. “I suppose you’d best go back to the manor. We have another long day ahead of us on the morrow.”

  Her heart sank right down to her toes. “I’m waiting until Miss Woodroffe has a chance to fall asleep first. She’s rather chatty.”

  Aiden almost chuckled. “If her conversation at the evening meal is any indication, I can understand why you’re here.”

  “Ah well, she’s only thirteen, and we’re sharing for just one night.” Maddie made a pretense of examining her clasped hands. “What do you think will happen now that you’re a marquis?”

  “I have to admit, the news came as a shock. I always believed my brother more suited for the role of heir.” He let out a long sigh. “With war surrounding us, I assume not much will change. I imagine I’ll be sent back to sea.”

  He’d been away so long already, and the only time she’d been happy at Whitehall had been the fleeting days when he was there. But never in a hundred years could she tell him how she really felt. “I wonder if our paths will ever cross again.”

  “I can hardly think about the morrow, let alone the distant future.” He combed his fingers through his dark tresses. “Do you think you’ll return to Stonehaven soon?”

  “I hope so. If not, I fear one of Lady Saxonhurst’s accusations about me will be taken seriously.”

  “I doubt anyone listens to the countess overmuch.”

  “Thank heavens.”

  “Have you seen much of the Earl of Seaforth?”

  “Nay, he left for Ross-shire not long after you sailed from London.”

  “Good for him. I kent he missed his clan and kin.”

  “Do you miss yours?”

  “Indeed, m’lady.” He glanced away, and his Adam’s apple bobbed as if he was thinking of something to say.

  Maddie wrung her hands. It was difficult to imagine that at one time they’d talked into the night with seemingly endless things to discuss. Now she stood there awkwardly, wanting to look him in the eye and declare her love, but knowing she could not embarrass herself, nor could she put him in such a thorny situation.

  He swiped a hand across his mouth with an emotionless stare in his eyes. “It has been a pleasure seeing you again, m’lady.”

  Ah yes, that was her cue. Regardless of Miss Woodroffe’s mindless prattle about her gowns or her hair or the color of her new bedclothes, Maddie had no recourse but to leave the marquis in peace. Besides, he’d said he needed time alone to think. Her presence in the barn was unwelcomed.

  She curtsied. “Good evening, m’lord. Thank you for coming to my rescue.”

  “It was my pleasure.” He bowed. “Sleep well.”

  Turning, Maddie hung her head while fighting her body’s urge to collapse in a heap. She’d gone to Portsmo
uth in hopes of finding Aiden well, and she’d found a man who had matured and moved on. Perhaps he’d never been in love with her. Perhaps he’d gone to Stonehaven simply to be friendly. After all, he was a young man, and through her work at the hospital for women, Maddie knew all too well that young men were lusty. By their very natures, as they matured, noblemen sought out marriageable women to bear their children.

  She’d fallen for his charm. She’d fallen for his kisses and his passion and his good looks, and had mistaken it all for love. She’d fallen for his muscular body and the power exuding from his every move.

  Aye, she’d done everything she’d promised herself she would never do. Well, almost everything. The sad part? She didn’t regret one minute of their affair. Maddie would treasure those fleeting moments in her heart for the rest of her days.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Aiden accompanied his parents back to Whitehall after the funeral at Westminster. Though they could easily walk the three blocks, Da had ordered a coach. The wheels screeched, adding a morose melody to the somber overtone of silence. The air surrounding them was as heavy as it was thick, and it weighed on Aiden’s shoulders.

  But it wasn’t until they were behind closed doors in the Atholl apartments that Da pulled Aiden aside. “I thought you should be aware I appealed to the queen to end your tenure with the Royal Navy.”

  Though his mouth was dry, Aiden gulped. “Why? I have only a year remaining.” If he chose not to sign another contract.

  “Think, Son. It would kill your mother to lose another of her strapping lads. Did you not hear her wails of grief resounding through Westminster’s halls?”

  “I ken she’s hurting, but I doubt that would sway Queen Anne. She has been with child what… nineteen times, and not a living heir to show for her efforts?”

  “I have already received Anne’s response, and she has granted my request, providing you sign an oath upholding the Act of Union and the Act of Settlement.”

  Stepping back, Aiden folded his arms across his chest. “What if I refuse?”

  Da smirked, his periwig shifting, but his eyes bored into Aiden with the force of a driving nail. “Do you honestly want to send your mother to an early grave?”

  He didn’t want to have this conversation, and his father’s using Ma to force Aiden to pledge allegiance to acts of Parliament he staunchly condemned was a bitter tonic. Throwing out his arms, he faced the hearth. “After three years in the navy, I firmly disagree with the Act of Union, and I’m none too happy with the Act of Settlement, either.” Damnation, now was not the time to tell his father they stood on opposite sides of the cause, but Aiden couldn’t be wrung like a rag. On the surface the queen seemed harmless enough, but her policies did nothing for the prosperity of Scotland.

  Da moved in behind him. “Oh please. These are but trivial matters to us. The Murrays still rule Atholl lands—which, mind you, have grown exponentially since Her Majesty The Queen granted me the dukedom. We are one of the most powerful clans in Scotland, a force that is even felt here in London.”

  “Indeed.” Over his shoulder Aiden regarded his father’s gaunt face. “But what is the true cost? Our clansmen are divided for certain, and most of them side with me.”

  “You are wrong. I—”

  Aiden thrust his finger under the duke’s nose. “The queen supports sanctions against Scottish wares whilst her people grow poorer.”

  Da swatted Aiden’s finger away. “Since when did you become the bleeding heart? Scotland’s commoners have always struggled. We do what we can for our clansmen and -women, but honestly, they are vassals to do our bidding. You ken that as well as I.”

  “Do I, indeed? If you have paid no attention to your daily gazette, I am simply stating fact. Nothing I have said is remotely an exaggeration.”

  “Well, you’d best shove those facts into a strongbox and toss them into your beloved sea.” Da sliced his hand through the air. “You are my son and as such you will do my bidding in this matter. Presently you must set your sights on finding a wife. Your brother marched off to war before impregnating his wife and, by God, that is not going to happen with you.”

  “I beg your pardon? We are but minutes from leaving John’s funeral and you expect me to drop everything and find a wife?”

  “Whilst you are at court, yes. There is no better place to make an alliance.”

  Aiden rolled his eyes to the ceiling. As long as he was disagreeing with his father on every imaginable subject, he might as well blow a musket hole through this topic as well. “Then I choose Lady Magdalen Keith.”

  “The harpist?” Turning scarlet, Da looked as if he could spit out his teeth. “Are you jesting?”

  Aiden smiled for the first time in days. “She’s enchanting and bonny. She has wit and intelligence.”

  “And she’s a bastard.”

  All it took was those few words to wipe the grin off his face. Aiden’s gut churned with bile. Och aye, the Duke of Atholl prejudged as much as every other noble in London. “If you must have an answer, I choose Lady Magdalen.”

  Throwing up his hands, His Grace sputtered. “No, no, no. I did not say I needed an answer today.” He took a few paces, then turned, pointing his finger. “I absolutely forbid you to marry the Earl Marischal’s bastard. I expect you to find a proper wife. For the love of God, Whitehall is swarming with eligible heiresses.”

  Aiden stood his ground, every muscle clamped and tense. “But I’m not interested in the others.”

  “Your mother will take to her sickbed if she should hear such irresponsibility uttered from your lips.”

  “I tend to call it truth.”

  “Well, that is why you are a young, inexperienced lad. All young men need to sow their wild oats. That is why I agreed to allow you to enter the navy.”

  “And John to join the army?”

  “Exactly, and look where that led the family.” Da stamped his foot. “Damn it all, do you truly want to destroy your mother’s hopes, and at a time like this, when she has just lost her firstborn, when she is in a most vulnerable state?”

  “Of course I don’t want to hurt her. It’s just—”

  “Promise me this. Spend the next month or so casting your net. That is all I ask. Refrain from fraternizing with the Keith woman especially whilst your mother is in mourning. A scandal would destroy her.” With a stern countenance, Da grasped Aiden’s shoulder and squeezed. “Do not dishonor the family by denying my request.”

  Aiden nodded. What else could he do? He was a Murray, and the heir. Besides, marrying Maddie had never come into the equation. Honestly, marrying hadn’t come into his equation at all.

  “I’m sure someone will catch your eye.” His Grace marched toward the passageway. “Good God. I doubt the Keith woman even has a dowry.”

  Aiden watched his father’s retreating form. Who bloody cares? I doubt any other woman at Whitehall can hold a candle to Lady Magdalen, dowry or nay.

  A hollow void spread through his chest. The next fortnight just might kill him.

  After the return from Portsmouth, things grew even more unbearable for Maddie. Aside from the newly titled Marquis of Tullibardine’s ignoring her and flirting with every unmarried lass at court, Lady Saxonhurst had grown increasingly adversarial. Da continued his nightly inquisitions, asking Maddie about everything she’d witnessed while playing for the queen—not that anything untoward ever happened when she was present. The attendants were always excused when someone came in with sensitive information. Nonetheless Da repeatedly told Maddie she was providing a valued service.

  The queen didn’t care for her afternoon tea. More pirates have been spotted off the coast of the Isle of Lewis. That didn’t concern the queen overmuch, because Lewis is part of the Hebrides in the north of Scotland.

  Maddie chewed her thumbnail as she headed out for her afternoon serenading session.

  Honestly, that tidbit of information about the pirates must have provided some value. After all, Lewis is only a day’s s
ailing from English waters.

  “Why so glum?” Da asked from the drawing room.

  Maddie stopped, finding Miss Agnes there as well. She forced a smile. “I suppose Miss Agnes is pulling your ear about returning to Stonehaven? I’ve been ready to return home for over a year.”

  “I ken, my dear. Goodness, my infant daughter has never even seen my face.”

  That made Maddie’s throat thicken. She probably never would see her new half sister. She looked to the floorboards and nodded.

  “Unfortunately, as long as I’m forced to remain at Whitehall, it only makes sense for you to remain here as well. Besides, we haven’t been able to spend this much time together in years.”

  Ever, if my memory serves me right.

  “We have naught but to carry on and make the best of it,” said Agnes.

  Maddie gave her lady’s maid a sharp look. The traitor. Agnes was supposed to be on her side. “I’ll remember you said that in a year’s time, when we are still here.”

  Agnes cringed and batted eyelashes at the earl, for heaven’s sake. “Do you think it will be that long, Your Lordship?”

  Da patted the servant’s hand. “Dear Lord, I hope not.”

  Maddie had seen and heard enough. “I’d best be off before I end up late.” She curtsied and hastened out the door.

  It was only about a five-minute walk to the royal apartments, though she had to cross through the main courtyard. Stepping out into the blustery wind, Maddie stopped short and clutched her arms across her midriff. For all that was holy, Aiden was taking a stroll with Lady Annabel, daughter of the Earl of Sussex.

  Maddie quickly ducked inside and hid behind the door until they passed. Why did her insides feel as if they had been ripped from her body every time she saw the marquis with yet another courtier? Worse, Maddie actually liked Lady Annabel. She was the only maid of honor who had actually treated her with a modicum of respect.

  Two weeks had passed since the funeral, and the new Marquis of Tullibardine hadn’t said a single word to her. Not that she’d been close enough to him for a conversation. On the few occasions when she’d seen him, he’d conveniently been across the room—or, as in this instance, Maddie had ducked out of sight because he was strolling past deep in conversation with a noblewoman, and always an unmarried one at that.