Bride of the Solway

by Joanna Maitland

  Behind them Cassie's brother screamed, 'Ye'll no' take her! I'll kill ye first!'

  Ross heard hurrying footsteps behind them as they reached the door. He did not turn. He simply put an arm round Cassie and ushered her through. Fraser was already in the saddle, waiting. 'Up with you, Cassie,' Ross said, lifting her on to Hera's back and throwing himself into the saddle behind her.

  He glanced round. The Elliott carriage and horses stood there. The riding horses were gone. 'Now, Hera.' He put his heels to her flanks. She raced forward down the street, making light of her double burden.

  Fraser started after them, looking back over his shoulder every few moments to check if they were being followed. Suddenly he gave a great bellow of laughter.

  Ross did not turn, but Cassie pushed herself up in his arms so that she could look over his shoulder. 'Oh, my!' she cried with a nervous laugh. 'James is trying to follow us. Was that your doing, Fraser?'

  Fraser could not speak. He was laughing too much. But Ross nodded. 'Fraser cut the traces.'

  'Jamie will have some fine bruises. And not only to his limbs,' she added with relish. 'The carriage horses have dragged him halfway along the street. And most of the townsfolk are doubled up with laughter at the sight.'

  'Morag! Oh, Morag, I'm so glad you are here.'

  'Wouldna have missed it for the world, Miss Cassie.'

  'Best get a move on, sir, madam,' Fraser said. 'We can't be sure how much time we have in hand.'

  'But is it really necessary? There was no sign that James was follow­ing us, was there? We could go on to Longtown, or to Carlisle. We'd be safe in England, would we not?'

  'Are you having second thoughts, Cassie?'

  'No. Of course not. But I should like to be wed in church.'

  'And you shall be. But first, you shall be wed here in Springfield. I must have you safe, my sweet. Once we have been joined—even here— no one can part us. Ah, here is Mr Lang.' 'G'day t'ye, ma'am, surr.'

  David Lang, nicknamed 'Bishop' Lang, was an enormous old man, with layers of jowls that made him look to have no neck at all. He was dressed from head to foot in rusty black. As if to emphasise his 'priestly' role, he carried a broad-brimmed hat to match his clerical garb. And he spoke in an accent so thick that Ross understood barely one word in four. However, Cassie and Morag were nodding eagerly at what seemed to be a speech of welcome and an explanation of what was about to happen.

  Seeing Ross's puzzlement, Cassie translated with a grin. 'We have but to state who we are and that we are free to marry. Then it is simply a matter of making a declaration that we will wed each other.'

  Mr Lang touched Cassie's arm impatiently. 'The beddin,' he urged, looking towards Ross. ' Ye'll no' be richt merrit wi'oot a beddin, surr.'

  Cassie blushed to the roots of her hair. 'He says that we—'

  Ross shook his head at her with a quick smile of sympathy. 'No need, my dear. I followed the gist of what he said.'

  Taking a deep breath, Ross squared his shoulders and looked at Mr Lang. 'Now, sir, let it be done. I, Captain Ross Graham, bachelor, pre­sently residing in the parish of Annan, do hereby declare, before you and these witnesses, that I am free to marry.'

  Ross held out his hand to Cassie. She laid her own in his and made her statement, in turn. Then, before David Lang, and before the two wit­nesses who had served them both so faithfully, Ross and Cassie declared themselves man and wife.

  And nane shall pit ye sunder,' 'Bishop' Lang intoned in his deep voice. Then he plucked at Ross's sleeve. 'Come by to the chaumber, surr. Ye'll need to be doing the beezness whiles I scrieve yer mairrage lines. 'Twill mak it all guid an' legal, ye see.' He pushed against a panel in the wall, which proved to be a door. Behind it, there was a hidden bedcham­ber and a bed with fresh sheets.

  Morag made to follow her mistress. 'No, Morag,' Ross said firmly. 'Your mistress is my wife now. I will look to her.'

  * * *

  'Cassie.'

  She went to his arms and nestled there, breathing in the wholesome scent of him, feeling at last that she was safe and where she belonged,

  He held her close and stroked her hair. 'Cassie, forgive me, but Mr Lang is right. If our marriage is not.. .er.

  Cassie threw her arms round his neck and pulled his mouth down to hers, 'I have married an idiot,' she said with a wry grin. 'I may have been embarrassed by what Mr Lang said, but I do understand the importance of it. If our marriage is not consummated—that is the correct term, I believe?—James could try to have it put aside.'

  Ross grimaced. 'We should take our time over this, our first lying to­gether as man and wife. But if James is at our heels—'

  'Oh, Ross,' she said, shaking her head. Could he not see how much she wanted him? She looked into his eyes. She saw concern, overlaid on tenderness. Where was the desire? Did he not feel it, as she did? 'Ross, I am no longer a shy virgin. Making love holds no terrors for me. Oh, my love, I have been praying for you, and for this moment, since the day James carried me off. When I looked back at you, by Annan bridge, I was trying to tell you so. Did you not understand? Do you not want me, too?'

  It seemed that was all he needed, for he seized her mouth and kissed her as if she were the life-giving water for a man dying in the desert. The kiss went on and on. Cassie's heart was pounding in her breast. She could feel that familiar molten glow in her belly as her womb made ready to welcome his seed. She could not wait any longer.

  She started to claw at his coat and his shirt. That made him laugh, even while he kissed her. He dragged his lips away for a second. 'You are a passionate woman, my little wife. Are you so very hot for me, then?'

  She continued to struggle with his shirt buttons. The moment she saw bare skin, she put her lips to his chest and began to tease him with her tongue.

  That was too much for Ross's self-control. He ripped off the rest of his clothes and threw Cassie on the bed, still fully dressed, if it's haste you want, my lady,' he groaned, pushing up her skirts and petticoats, 'then you shall have it.'

  Cassie opened her body to him, welcoming his possession. Her need was urgent now.

  Ross lay on top of her, kissing her mouth and stroking one breast through the layers of fine cloth. Cassie could feel her nipple peaking against his fingers. It was as if there was no barrier between her skin and his.

  He readied himself, but hesitated.

  Cassie could not wait. She bucked against him and he slid fully into her warmth with a long moan of desire and satisfaction. He had barely begun to move within her when her spasms started. 'Ross!' she cried. 'Oh, my love!' She clung to him as she spiralled higher. Her final cry of ecstasy contained no words. It was as old as woman herself.

  It took Cassie a long time to come back to earth. When she did so, she saw that Ross was lying naked beside her, absently stroking her inner thigh with one finger. He was smiling into her eyes, a deep contented smile.

  His wandering finger nudged against the bulge in her stocking. 'What, pray, madam wife, is this?' His dreamy smile had disappeared. For a moment, he looked startled.

  Cassie's eyes widened. Heavens! She had completely forgotten. She might have injured Ross with that knife.

  Slowly and deliberately, he extracted it from under her stocking and unwrapped it. He tested the edge with a finger. 'Ouch! That's sharp.' He glanced at Cassie's face, then back at the knife for a second, and then gazed at her face once more. Suddenly, he was grinning wickedly at her. 'Were you planning to cut off my manhood if I failed to satisfy you, Cassie?'

  'No. Of course not.' She closed her eyes, thinking quickly. Was there any way of avoiding the truth? 'You know very well that you satisfy me in...er...every way.'

  'I'm glad to hear it.' His grin had turned into a rather self-satisfied smirk. 'So why is it here, Cassie?'

  Oh dear. There was no way out. 'I.. .I.. .I could not have let him touch me, Ross. I belong to you. Only you. If you had not rescued me, I was going to use it on Robert Munro.'

  'But that would ha
ve been mur—'

  'And afterwards on myself.'

  'Oh, God. Cassie!' He hurled the little knife to the floor and pulled her into a fierce embrace. 'Cassie!' His strong, proud body was trembling against hers. Probably thinking how close they had come to losing each other for ever.

  She held him tight against her until his trembling stopped. It would have been better if he had not known at all, but... At least he could now be in no doubt of just how much she would have sacrificed for him, and just how much she loved him.

  She touched a hand to his chest and allowed her fingernail to graze his nipple. He groaned. She smiled towards the ceiling. Very satisfactory.

  'Cassie, I have said before that you are a witch. Your very touch makes my whole body burn with desire. I love you, wife of mine.' His voice sank even lower. 'I love you to the depths of my soul.'

  Cassie's breath caught and her heart began to race. Had he really said he loved her? Had she imagined the words? She had so longed to hear them.

  He was starting to stroke her hair once more, and letting her curls wind themselves around his fingers. Ah, my love, my darling wife, I think I have wanted to do this since the first time I set eyes on you, with your mane of wet and tangled hair hanging down your back and Lucifer's reins wrapped tight around your hand.'

  A great calm surrounded Cassie, like a velvet cloak, soft and rich, set­tling on her skin. It was true. He did love her. It made everything com­plete at last. She lay completely still, not daring to move lest she break the spell of his mesmerising touch. His loving touch.

  He dropped a kiss on her lips. It surprised her. It was not a kiss of pas­sion, but of love and commitment. As if to seal their bargain. Their love. 'Mmm. You taste divine, Cassie. Exactly as a wife should taste. Nectar and rose petals.'

  She sighed deeply and relaxed into the soft mattress. She had nothing more to wish for. She would like to stay here for ever, sharing this inti­mate feeling of fulfilment alongside the man to whom she had given her heart. And who had given her his.

  At last, very gently, Ross pushed down Cassie's skirts. Dropping a

  final kiss on her brow, he said, 'I should like to lie here for ever, Cassie, my love, but it may not be. Beyond that door, they are waiting for us.'

  Cassie gasped. In the heat of passion, she had forgotten the others. What had they heard through the panel?

  Ross leaned back in the wing chair in their private parlour in the Graham Arms at Longtown. Its name no longer intrigued him; he had discovered more than he needed to know about the history of his ap­palling family. He intended to forget them, if he could. And he would never use his father's name. Never. That was certain.

  He smiled across at Cassie. 'We'll be off as soon as Fraser arrives. It is a long way to London, I'm afraid, and liable to be very uncomfortable for you, even in a post-chaise.'

  'I'm sure it cannot be more uncomfortable than my journeys to school in Edinburgh,' Cassie replied equably. 'My father insisted I attended the best possible seminary—he would not allow any child that carried his name to associate with the lower classes—but he did not see a need to pay a groat more than necessary to get me there.'

  'Well, this time, we shall travel in as much comfort as I can contrive. You understand, I hope, my love—' he attempted a leer, but she only laughed '—that post-chaises are not made to accommodate three persons. Morag will have to travel separately. You are going to travel with me.' He grinned. 'Alone.'

  She beamed at him. 'There will be post-boys, however, will there not?'

  'Sadly, yes. But if they dare to look round to gaze on their betters, they will lose all chance of seeing my extra guineas. And so I shall tell them.' Cassie was blushing again, just a little. Delightful. He dropped a kiss on the end of her pink nose.

  'Ross! What if someone should come in?'

  He shrugged. 'You are my wife. Or rather—' He looked suddenly very serious. 'Cassie, you told me, at Springfield, that you wanted to be mar­ried in church. And I promised that you would be. I intend to keep my promise.'

  She smiled up at him. 'Thank you. A church wedding would make everything... feel right. Everything was so quick, at Springfield, and—' She stopped dead, blushing fierily. Everything had indeed been quick. And she had been the one responsible.

  Ross patted her hand. 'When we reach London, I will arrange for a special licence so that we can be married at once. Would St George's, Hanover Square, suit you, ma'am?'

  'I don't know. I have never been to London. I'm sure that any church you choose would be splendid.'

  'Good. That's settled. One thing more, Cassie.' He took her hand. 'Un­til we are properly wed, in church, we will sleep apart.'

  'No!'

  'Yes, Cassie. As you yourself said, we need a church wedding to make us feel truly married. What happened.. .er.. .at Springfield... It was necessary then, but it will not be repeated. Not until we have been joined in church.'

  Cassie did not like the sound of that at all. Yes, she wanted their union to be blessed by the church. But they were married. And married couples should share a bed. She did not want to sleep alone. 'Ross, I—' she began tentatively but, before she could start to argue, the door opened.

  It was Fraser, looking remarkably grimy from his long ride. He grinned at them. 'Afternoon, ma'am. Sir.' He put his whip on the table and began to strip off his gloves. 'I've brought Lucifer for ye, ma'am,' he said with quiet satisfaction.

  Cassie jumped to her feet. She almost wanted to kiss him. Instead, she seized his hands and danced round the room with him.

  'Miss Cassie! Mrs Graham, ma'am! Stop!'

  Cassie did not stop until she was almost out of breath. Then Ross caught her round the waist and pulled her to a seat beside him.

  Fraser stood in the middle of the floor, straightening his slock and trying not to look flustered.

  'Did you have any difficulty in bringing Lucifer away?'

  'No, sir. None. Langrigg is all at sixes and sevens. No one appears to be in charge.' ;

  'My brother—?'

  'Your brother, ma'am...well, he...' ' 'He is not dead?'Cassie had gone pale.

  Fraser hastened to reassure her. 'No, ma'am. Not dead. He.. .he rushed back to Langrigg, right after you left Annan. They say he went to get the money from his strongbox and to make off with it. It was five thousand pounds and more, so they said.'

  Cassie and Ross exchanged glances.

  'But he was not quick enough. Mr Munro was furious that he had not got himself a bride in return for all that money. He insisted that the gen­tlemen should go straight back to Langrigg with him and demand the return of his cash. When they arrived there, your brother was still in the house. As soon as he heard their horses, he barricaded the door against them. He was at the window with his pistols.'

  'Did he fire on them?'

  'No, sir. He.. .he seemed to have some kind of seizure, they said. One minute he was ready to shoot them, the next he was screaming like an injured animal, according to one of the manservants. And he appeared to recognise no one, not even his own henchmen. When the steward saw how the land lay, he opened the door and let the gentlemen in. Mr Munro just took his money and left. It was Colonel Anstruther who took charge of the household. He...he had your brother restrained. And then the doctor said he had to be taken to the Bedlam. For his own safety. I'm sorry, ma'am.'

  Cassie took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a second. 'God have mercy on him. But it may be for the best,' she whispered at last. 'I had begun to wonder, some months ago, if James might be going slowly mad. His tempers were becoming ever more violent. As were his threats, to me. and to others. And the risks he was taking... I shall write to Colonel

  Anstruther and ask him to ensure that James is well cared for. Then I—' She stopped and looked up at Ross. 'Forgive me. I should have consulted you first. Do you think that—?'

  'I think that you are doing exactly right, my love,' Ross said gently. 'He may be a wicked man, but if he is stark mad—and I can well beli
eve it, given some of the things I have seen and heard about him—he needs to be restrained, and to be cared for. Do you write to Colonel Anstruther as you suggest. I will ensure that there is money enough at Langrigg to pay for your brother's care.'

  'Thank you,' she said quietly. 'After what he tried to do to you, that is more than generous.'

  'I do it for you, my love, and for your peace of mind. Not for him.'

  Two post-chaises, each with four horses, stood in Longtown High Street outside the Graham Arms. The three riding horses were tied on behind the second of them.

  Cassie gazed thoughtfully down at the scene from the parlour window. Her husband was certainly sparing no expense to ensure that their trip to London was as speedy and comfortable as possible. But the horses... ? Surely that was strange?

  Fraser came back at that moment to fetch the last of their travelling valises. He was to collect the rest of Ross's baggage in Carlisle.

  'Are you not riding, Fraser? I thought my husband—' she stumbled a little over the unfamiliar word '—I thought the captain had said that you were bringing the horses to London by easy stages?'

  Fraser could not quite meet her eye. 'Er...Morag...she...um...she suggested that we might share the chaise for a stage or two, ma'am. Just to be companionable, like. 'Tis only as far as Penrith, ma'am. I'll be bringing the horses on from there.'

  'Oh. I see.' Cassie had to bite her lip to stop herself from grinning with delight. Goodness, what a surprise! Fraser and Morag?

  She was almost certain Fraser was blushing as he hurried out of the room. The moment the door closed, Cassie began to dance round the furniture, humming a reel. Fraser and Morag! Nothing could be more wonderful.

  A moment later, her husband caught her round the waist and lifted her into his arms.

  'Where did you come from? I—'

  He whirled her round. 'I slipped in when you were not looking. You were so busy dancing and singing that a man-eating lion could have crept up on you. Grrr!' He bared his teeth at her.

  'Humph! You make a very poor lion, sir!' She freed one hand from his embrace and ran her fingers through his thick red hair. 'Not much of a mane, I'd say. And quite the wrong colour, too!'