Bride of the Solway

by Joanna Maitland

  She gulped and let the words come out in a great rush. 'I know I did not tell you the whole truth about myself. I allowed you to propose marriage to me without making you aware that I.. .that I am the daughter of a lunatic' His fingers tightened convulsively on hers, but she would not be stopped. 'And my mother was a wanton, too. Please believe me when I tell you that I did not know about that. I had always believed that my mother was unjustly imprisoned.' She whirled back round to face him and wrenched her hand from his. 'It seems I was wrong. My father did have cause.'

  Ross reached out to take her hand again, but she did not dare to touch him. Instead, she clasped both hands tightly together in front of her.

  He sighed deeply. She glanced up at his face, expecting to see disgust, or anger. But his expression seemed to have lightened. What on earth—?

  'Exactly when, in our dealings together, were you supposed to have told me about your mother's fate?'

  'I...ah...well, I could have—'

  'Perhaps you could have mentioned it when we were leaping across sinking pools in the quicksand? Or when we were cowering under that bush, soaked to the skin, and praying that your brother would not dis­cover us?'

  'I...um...'

  'Precisely so. And later on, when we were huddled together, trying to keep each other warm, perhaps you should have told me then?' 'Yes. I could have—'

  'Cassie, you are no lunatic, but your memory is clearly defective. I have a very clear recollection that I had found other uses for your deli­cious mouth by that stage. I do not believe talking played any part in it.' He grinned at her. It was sunshine after rain.

  'Oh, you are impossible, Ross Graham. Why will you not listen to me?'

  'Because, my sweet, you are talking nonsense. Utter nonsense. Your mother was not mad. You have your godfather's word for that. Poor lady, she suffered at the hands of a cruel husband. I could not blame her for trying to escape. Nor should you.'

  It was not enough. He had overlooked the greatest risk. 'What if I were to take after her?'

  'Why should you? Are you suggesting that I would treat you as your father did your mother? Good God, Cassie, what sort of man do you take me for?'

  'Not a cruel one. Never that,' she whispered to the gravel at her feet. He had seemed amused before, but now he sounded very hurt. She had not intended that.

  This time he did not try for her hand. He reached her in a single stride and pulled her roughly into his arms. When she opened her mouth to pro­test, he laughed delightedly and captured her lips.

  Cassie did not try to pull away. She could not. This, after all, was what she wanted more than anything, to be held, and kissed, by Ross Graham, the man to whom she had given her heart. She breathed in the warm male scent of him, letting the intoxication of his nearness fizz in her blood. She was almost dizzy as she began to return his kiss with a fervour equal to his own. He had taught her the joys of passion, but she now showed him that the pupil could match the master, perhaps even surpass him.

  Ross groaned, deep in his chest, as her tongue touched his, teasing, re­treating, and teasing again. He pulled away just long enough to take a breath, and gasp, 'I swear you are a witch, Cassie.' For a second, he put a hand to her hair, stroking the silken curls as if they were the most precious treasure in the world. Then he lowered his mouth to hers once again.

  For a long, long time, they kissed. It seemed to Cassie that her soul was melding with Ross's, that they were becoming one, a single spirit, it felt.. .oh, it felt like utter bliss. He was still stroking her hair, and one strong hand was splayed across her back. His fingers seemed to be branding her there. The heat was searing her skin, in spite of her clothes.

  'Cassie. My sweet Cassie,' he whispered. He had torn his mouth from hers and was gazing down into her eyes. His own were unfocused and dreamy. Were hers the same? She was certainly no longer sure of who or where she was. But why had be stopped kissing her?

  'Ross? What is it?'

  'Nothing. Except that I hope you are now properly convinced of my intentions, ma'am.'

  'I... You mean that you truly do want to marry the daughter of a lunatic?'

  He shook his head wearily. 'Our positions are clear enough. You are not the daughter of a lunatic. But you are being asked to marry the son of a traitor. For that, it appears, is what I am. That being so, I think the benefits of the union would be all on my side. If you would agree to take me. Will you, Cassie?'

  She looked up into his eyes. They were focused now, and full of doubt. He was afraid that she was going to reject him. How could he pos­sibly think that? And for such a reason? She had given herself to him, because she loved him. Her path was set. Nothing could alter it, except Ross himself. 'Do you not know that I love you, Ross?' Her voice was very low, and it shook, just a little.

  'I...I have to believe you do, for you have told me so. And I know you would not have allowed me to make love to you if you did not. That gift was the greatest proof of love a man could receive. Do you mean to marry me? Truly?'

  'If you are sure that you want me for your wife. Only if you are ab­solutely sure. I should have told you about my mother before, when you proposed the first time. I should have given you the chance to withdraw then. What if our children were tainted with madness?'

  Ross took her by the shoulders and shook her. Not violently, but enough to make his point. 'By Jove, Cassie Elliott, you are a stubborn woman. How many times do I have to tell you that your mother was not a lunatic and that there is no taint of madness to be carried through to future generations? You are a perfectly normal young woman—though as stubborn as a Spanish mule—and a traitor's son, such as I, would be honoured to take you as his wife.'

  A tiny smile hovered at the corner of her mouth. 'Very well then, Captain Graham, son of a traitor, I accept your offer of marriage.'

  Ross wanted to shout his triumph from the rooftops. She had accepted him. Truly accepted him at last! And in the full knowledge of his family's murky past. He felt as if a huge burden had been lifted from him. There could be no doubt, now, that she did love him, in spite of what he was. He was truly blessed.

  He resisted the temptation to kiss her again. He wanted her too much. If he kissed her now, there was a real risk that they would end up tangled among the box hedges, making love in full view of Sir Angus's house­hold. He must now try to behave as a gentleman should, curbing his over­whelming desire until they were safely wed.

  And that must be soon. Very soon.

  Tucking her arm under his once more, he led her through the garden. 'We must be wed as soon as possible, Cassie. I shall ask Sir Angus to allow us to be married from this house. That would be the safest course. You will still be in danger until my ring is on your finger. I would do it tomorrow, if only we could get a special licence. But that is impossible, so far from London.'

  She squeezed his fingers and looked up at him with mischief in her eyes. 'We could always go across the border to Gretna Green.'

  'No, ma'am, we could not.'

  'Oh? Why not? It would be just as quick as a special licence.'

  'Lord preserve me from logic-chopping women,' he said with a grin. 'There are at least two good reasons, madam.' He took a deep breath and began to count on his fingers, like a tutor explaining a lesson to a particu­larly dim child. 'First, because it is dangerous for you to set foot in Scotland without being safely wed. And second, because of the damage to your re­putation from a Gretna wedding. Just imagine—an innocent young lady carried off to Gretna, obviously the dupe of the unscrupulous half-pay officer she had married, all unaware that he was the son of a traitor.'

  Cassie's eyes widened at that. She made as if to speak, but then shut her mouth again without saying a word. A tiny frown marred her beautiful face.

  He pulled her closer. 'You do understand, don't you, my dear?' 'Yes,' she said softly. 'You are right. A Gretna marriage could well damage your reputation, and we—' 'My reputation?'

  'Yes, of course. And I will not permit that to happen
. Everything must be done with the utmost propriety.'

  He shook his head. 'I can see that marriage to you is going to be something of an adventure, Cassie. Even if you do promise to love, hon­our and obey.'

  'I am sure you will never require me to do anything idiotish, so there will be no call for me to break my vow, will there?'

  'Idiotish?' He struck his forehead with his open palm, trying not to smile in response to the wicked glint in her eyes. 'You have my full per­mission, ma'am, to disobey any command of mine that should prove to be idiotish—'

  'Oh, good.'

  '—in the opinion of any right-thinking man.'

  Cassie burst out laughing. Her joy was so clearly written on her beam­ing face that Ross put his hands on her trim waist, picked her up and whirled her round and round.

  'Stop, stop! You are making me dizzy. Put me down, you impos­sible man!'

  He did so, setting her on her feet but leaving his hands where they were. 'You make me dizzy just looking at you, my dear one. And the touch of you...' he squeezed her waist gently '.. .the touch of you drives me wild. Oh, Cassie, if you knew how much I want you, here and now, you would certainly run for cover.'

  She did nothing of the sort. Instead she pressed her body against him, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck. 'I shall not run from your passion, Ross,' she said huskily. 'Not ever.'

  Ross groaned aloud. He could not help it. The picture conjured up by her words was just too tempting. His whole body was now humming with desire. A few moments ago, he had been impatient for Sir Angus's busi­ness to be over so that they could share their joy with him and begin to plan their wedding. Now, painfully aroused as he was, Ross could only pray that Sir Angus would be further delayed.

  'Oh, God, Cassie, do you know what you are doing to me?'

  She smiled. It was a smile filled with knowledge. And satisfaction. She knew exactly what she was doing. And she was proud of it.

  Ross stopped fighting his own desires. She was offering herself for his kiss. What man in his right mind would refuse?

  To his surprise, it was not a kiss of passion that they shared. It was a kiss of much deeper meaning—commitment, and mutual devotion. It went on and on. Ross was feeling weightless, as if he could float away to Arcadia with this amazing woman in his arms. Never, in all his life, had the touch of a woman affected him so profoundly.

  When at last Ross broke the kiss, he held her into his body as if he could shield her from all the world, as if to make them one. And Cassie leaned into him, trusting, loving, giving of herself. For a long time, neither moved.

  'Hurrumph!'

  They sprang apart at the sound. Even in the deep shadow of the house, Ross could see that Cassie had turned bright pink. Poor girl, she blushed so very easily. It would be a joy to tease her, once they were man and wife.

  'Humph!'

  In spite of her blushes, Cassie was clearly not to be daunted. She was brimming over with happiness, and she was determined to share it. She tucked her hand possessively into Ross's and tugged him towards the steps, where Sir Angus stood in the open French window. 'Godfather! Oh, Godfather, you shall be the first to learn of our happiness. Ross and I are to be wed, as soon as may be. Oh, Godfather, you cannot believe how happy I am!'

  When Sir Angus did not speak, Cassie stopped in her tracks. 'Are you not glad, sir? Oh, please do not be cross. I do not mean to shun your gen­erous offer of shelter, but you see, I love him. And I want more than any­thing in the world to be his wife.'

  Sir Angus smiled, but it looked a little forced. 'I am pleased for you, my dear child. And I congratulate you, Captain Graham. I hope you will be very happy together.'

  'Oh, thank you, Godfather.' Cassie kissed him on the check. It was rather more demure than her previous effort, Ross was glad to see.

  'But, come inside. Come inside, both of you. We should not be dis­cussing such momentous events on the garden step.' Sir Angus turned back into the room.

  Ross put a protective hand in the small of Cassie's back and shep­herded her inside. He sensed danger. His soldier's awareness had not deserted him. There was something very wrong. But would Sir Angus tell him what it was? Ross could feel the tension tightening his gut. He had only just secured Cassie for his own, and until the knot was tied in church, there was still a risk that she might be snatched from him. It was a thought he was not prepared to contemplate.

  All three resumed their seats, but it was different from before. Cassie was leaning into Ross and clearly no longer cared whether Sir Angus noticed or not. She was relaxed and overflowing with happiness. Ross, meanwhile, was too worried to let his feelings show. He felt, somehow, that Sir Angus was about to deal a blow to their plans. The old man was sitting very upright in his chair, his hands tightly gripping the arms. Un­like Cassie, he was far from relaxed.

  A tense silence reigned for several moments. Ross determined to break it. 'Sir, I am sorry that it will not prove possible for your goddaugh­ter to come to live with you as you wish. She—'

  'Think nothing of that, my boy,' Sir Angus said with a thin smile. 'I take back everything I said about marrying where one is bid. If Cassie is happy with you, then you have my blessing.'

  'Thank you, sir.'

  'Oh, thank you, Godfather,' Cassie breathed at the same moment.

  'But, Cassie, my dear—' Sir Angus had clasped his hands in his lap and was now staring down at them. 'My dear, I have dreadful news. Oh, Lord, there is no way to soften this blow. My dear child, I have to tell you that your brother is dead. He drowned. Yesterday. In the Solway.'

  Cassie's eyes widened for a second. Then she struggled to her feet. 'It is my fault,' she whispered. 'I wished him dead. I prayed for it. And it has happened. Oh, God forgive me.'

  'Cassie! Child!'

  It was too late. Cassie had sunk into a dead faint.

  'Don't look so concerned, my boy. The doctor says she will soon recover.'

  'Of course, sir.' Ross's response was automatic, but he was not so sure. Her body would recover, certainly, but her mind? He would never forget her fervent prayer for deliverance and for the damnation of her half-brother. No doubt she would never forget it either. And she would carry the guilt for the rest of her life. It made no difference that it was not her fault in any way. Her conscience would tell her that it was.

  'I am glad of this chance to speak privately to you, however, Captain Graham.'

  Sir Angus seemed to have noticed none of Ross's inner turmoil. Nor that the timing of Elliott's drowning did not fit with Cassie's tale of her escape. Good. Ross would not tell Sir Angus the whole truth unless he had absolutely no other choice. Too many grubby secrets had been revealed already.

  Sir Angus was absently drumming his fingers on the arm of his chair. 'With Cassie's brother gone, there is no one to act for her. I feel I must take on the role. In the matter of.. .er.. .settlements and so on.'

  'Thank you, sir. I am sure Cassie will be most grateful when she learns of your kindness in this. I am not a wealthy man, but I can assure you that we shall be perfectly comfortable. Cassie will not want for anything that is due to her station.' Ross proceeded to a brisk description of his financial position and the settlements he was proposing. By the time he had finished, Sir Angus was beaming with pleasure.

  'That is all very satisfactory, sir. Very satisfactory indeed. You say you are not wealthy. Well, well. Let me just say that, by her brother's lights, you are certainly very comfortably situated. Perhaps he should have seized on you as a suitor.'

  Ross nodded slightly, but said nothing. Sir Angus's remark was true enough but, in the light of Elliott's death, it was really not a remark a gentleman should have made.

  Sir Angus seemed to become conscious of his faux pas for he cleared his throat loudly and abruptly changed the subject. 'It is important that yon understand my goddaughter's financial position, too, Captain Graham.'

  Ross looked at him in surprise. 'I had understood that Cassie would come to me with nothing. Nothin
g at all. Is that not the case?'

  'Possibly. But there may be something. The Langrigg estate is not en­tailed. That being so, Cassie should inherit everything. There is no other heir.'

  'Ah, yes. I see what you mean.' Ross waited for Sir Angus to continue. He did not wish to appear eager to learn of Cassie's inheritance. If there was actually anything left to inherit.

  'There is the Langrigg manor and a good deal of land. I do not know how much income it produces. Nor whether it is mortgaged. I should think it may well be. And there are bound to be debts, considerable debts. James Elliott did not invest in his land. He invested only in his own selfish passions. His gambling and his women were very expensive, I believe.'

  'I shall pay his debts, of course.'

  'Including his gambling debts?'

  'Yes,' Ross said flatly. 'He was Cassie's brother. I would not have her suffer the slightest unease because some debts of honour were left unpaid.'

  Sir Angus snorted. 'I should find out the extent of them first, if I were you. It might cost you far more than you imagine. You surely would not pre­judice your wife's future comfort just to pay her worthless brother's debts?'

  'I will investigate the extent of them, as you suggest, sir. But they will be paid.'

  Sir Angus did not argue any more. 'Assuming she does inherit the Langrigg estate, what will you do with it? Shall you live there?'

  'That will depend very much on Cassie. My own estate in Wiltshire is small, but very pleasant. However, if Cassie wishes to spend part of the year at Langrigg, I should be happy to agree.'

  'Not the winter months, I suggest,' murmured Sir Angus with a hint of a smile.

  Ross grinned in response, and nodded. 'I take your point, sir. I shall try to persuade her that the best time to visit is in the summer, when her garden will be at its best.'

  'What will you do about the wedding?' asked Sir Angus after a pause. 'That will depend on Cassie.'