“Lady Carlisle is free to do as she pleases,” the Prince replied graciously.
“Did Gavin really ask for the favor of my company?” Sara asked, as Ian guided her through the crowd.
“I canna recall if those were his exact words,” he admitted with a beguiling smile, “but ‘tis what he meant.”
“I didn’t think he had,” replied Sara with a sigh of resignation. “And please don’t tell me what he die say. I don’t want to feel like flinging him under a runaway coach before I even speak to him.” Sara didn’t feel any more hopeful when she at last saw Gavin. That he was making an attempt to keep his temper in check was obvious. That the task was proving a great strain on his self-control was just as obvious.
“I brought her as ye requested,” said Ian, without his usual smile, and immediately left them alone.
“I’m glad you could spare a few moments,” Gavin said greeting Sara quite formally.
That wasn’t a very good sign, but she hoped he would become more friendly now that Ian was out of sight.
“I didn’t mind being excused from the reception line. Those people are the Prince’s friends, not mine.”
“Then you shouldn’t be here,” Gavin said with suppressed wrath, unable to keep his tongue between his teeth.
“We’ve already touched on that subject,” Sara said rather impatiently.
Gavin struggled visibly to restrain himself from uttering the blistering words that rose to his lips. “Why do you refuse to let me explain why I think you ought to go back to London?”
“As I recall, all you have done is shout orders at me. That virtually eliminates the possibility of any kind of explanation.”
“You haven’t given me much of a chance. I haven’t been allowed to so much as set eyes on you for two days.”
“You had more of a chance than I had on our wedding night.” Involuntarily Sara turned crimson at the memory of that evening. She hadn’t meant to mention it, but it just came out, along with the pent-up anger she had been saving for nearly a month. “You knew I was scared. And you were drunk.”
“My friends toasted us,” Gavin replied self-consciously. “I couldn’t refuse to drink with them.” Nor did you try, he reminded himself.
“You knew I was inexperienced,” Sara continued, ignoring his excuse. “I told you so. Yet you treated me with great roughness.”
“Every woman should know more than you did.”
“Maybe the women you’re accustomed to consorting with do,” snapped Sara, “but I don’t keep such company.”
“Are you blaming me for your ignorance?” Sara was making him feel more guilty than he already did, and that made him angry.
“Not for my ignorance, but certainly for treating that ignorance as something for which I should be humiliated and punished.”
“I told you what I was going to do.”
“As you were doing it! Maybe you’ve forgotten your first time—possibly it is too far in the past—but to have your modesty stripped away and your privacy invaded in the space of ten minutes is a staggering experience.”
Gavin did remember his own first time, and had the honesty to admit that Sara’s words contained some truth.
“Then, to be attacked like I was an enemy, someone you didn’t like in the least, made it all the worse.”
“I didn’t attack you,” protested Gavin, his ire flaring instantly.
“Time doesn’t seem to have calmed the rough waters that lie between you.” The two combatants hadn’t heard the Prince come up. “It’s probably best that I’ve come to beg Lady Carlisle to help me begin the dancing.” Sara looked a little embarrassed, but Gavin’s face reflected only anger and vexation.
“You’ve done nothing but interfere between my wife and me since she reached Glasgow,” he growled.
“Since it was my protection which enabled her to reach Glasgow in safety and some degree of dignity, I see it merely as a continuation of my role.”
“She doesn’t need your protection any longer. I’m here.”
“I would say that she seems to need it more than ever. Would you favor me with the first dance, Lady Carlisle? You may continue your discussion with your husband if you wish, but I must ask you to see that it does not turn into a brawl.”
“I would be honored. If you will excuse us?” she said, turning to Gavin.
“Do I have any choice?” he asked very ungallantly.
“No, I don’t think you do,” said the Prince with a pleasant smile, as he led Sara toward the head of the set that was forming.
“I hope ye do no’ aspire tae become a diplomat,” Ian observed caustically, as he stepped from behind a statue. “Ye are certain tae plunge the whole world into war inside a month.”
“Oh, go to Hell!” exploded Gavin and stormed out of the hall.
It was two hours before Gavin was able to see Sara again, and then it was only for a country dance.
Even though Sara had received instruction from the best dance masters in London, she was only a moderate dancer, and since this was her first ball, she felt tense and unsure of herself. Gavin, on the other hand, was a natural athlete, and danced as though he were born to it. The movements of the dance kept them apart too often to permit rational conversation, but as soon as the last notes sounded, Gavin led her to a chair in an alcove, brought her some wine punch, and, directing a murderous glare at everyone who passed, dared anyone to join them.
“You never did tell me how you came to be in the west of England,” he said, as politely as he could.
“You never stopped arguing long enough to ask me.” Gavin’s brow darkened. “Forgive me, I shouldn’t have said that,” Sara said, realizing it was pointless for them to continue finding fault with one another. If they were ever to begin a rapprochement, both of them would have to forget their wrongs.
“When your father said he was going to close the house, I had no choice but to follow you or go back to Miss Adelaide. I chose Scotland.”
“But where did my father go?”
“You mean you haven’t seen him?”
“No. Why should I?”
“He said he was going to join Cumberland, when he came north to put down the rebellion.”
“Something’s wrong,” Gavin said puzzled. “He’s not at Estameer, and I doubt he’s at Lochknole. The old bastard is up to something. He never makes a move without a purpose, and he never has any purpose except making money. Why didn’t you hire a post chaise?” he asked abruptly, his thoughts returning to Sara.
“I don’t have any money. All the income goes to your father.”
“But he couldn’t have left without giving you a considerable sum to live on.”
“He offered to let me stay in the house with the caretaker.”
“I know my father thinks of little else besides the making of money, but I’ve never known him to be so mean about its spending.”
“He offered to give me an allowance of one hundred pounds a quarter starting with the new year, but I couldn’t wait a month.”
“Does he know where you are?”
“No.”
Once more the Prince interrupted them. “Lady Carlisle, I have someone I most particularly want you to meet. She’s a friend from my childhood in Rome.” A tall, thin young woman stood at the Prince’s side. Roughly the same age as the prince, she was attractive without being beautiful, with dark, hypnotic eyes. The Prince looked at her with obvious fondness, and the young lady smiled shyly.
“This is Clementina Walkinshaw,” the Prince said. “She and I played together fifteen years ago.”
“Twenty to be precise,” said the young woman in a soft, deep voice. Clementina Walkinshaw was one of the Walkinshaws of Barrowfield, a family of strong Jacobite tradition, and it was obvious from the look in Clementina’s eyes that she carried on the family tradition.
“You’ll have to allow me to introduce you to some of the ladies of Glasgow,” Clementina said to Sara. “It’s not good for anyone to be exclusively
in male company for very long.”
“Why is that?” asked the Prince, displaying the first interest in a female that Sara had noticed.
“Everyone knows that men are terribly rough creatures. If a lady were to stay in your company for too long, she might begin to imitate your ways.”
“Lady Carlisle already behaves quite differently from when she was in London,” Gavin observed.
“Then I must take her away at once,” laughed Clementina, and led Sara over to a group of young women, surrounded by a larger group of young men.
“I trust you had time to try and persuade your wife to your point of view.”
“You interrupted before I had barely begun.”
“I do apologize, but Lady Carlisle is much in demand. Now if you will excuse me, I must attend to my other guests.”
The Prince left Gavin fuming.
Gavin spent the remainder of the evening trying to separate Sara from the press of people who wanted to dance with her, or meet the intrepid lady who had the courage to travel with the Prince and his army and win his unqualified approval. So great was her popularity that he was unable to speak to Sara alone, until the ball was almost over.
“If I ever get you back to London, I vow I’ll not have to wait the entire evening just to be able to conduct an uninterrupted conversation with my own wife.”
“Everyone is going home now. We can be free of interference.”
“Hell and damnation,” exploded Gavin. “Here comes your guardian angel. I will not be interrupted by him again, or be subjected to his sly insults. Good night, my wife, and maybe some day we will meet without every man in Scotland feeling he has more right to your attention than I do.” He executed a quick, angry bow, and stalked off just as the Prince was coming up.
“Does he wish to go to bed so early?” inquired the Prince.
“He was upset at being interrupted again,” Sara told him, trying to hide her own vexation at the Prince’s constant attention, just when she would have liked to be forgotten for a few hours.
“But I was just coming to offer you both the use of the library. A pity, but there will be another day. Are you tired?”
“Yes. Are you pleased with the bail?”
“I’m afraid the evening has not been entirely successful. The ladies have unbent toward me, but their husbands are as adamant as before about adhering to their allegiance to the German.”
“Maybe they fear Cumberland’s vengeance.”
“They don’t care who sits on the throne as long as their ships continue to sail and their profits continue to grow.” He breathed a sigh. “So different from their highland cousins.” Sara could think of nothing to answer this, and they talked of other things until they parted for the night.
The cold, blustery wind whipped across the green with telling force, but the soldiers gathered in the open seemed oblivious to its icy coldness. The bright sun added to the festivity of the occasion, and the men milled about, too cold to stand still, too active to want to. Charles Stuart was reviewing his troops, and it seemed that all of Glasgow had come out to watch. The Highlanders were determined to make a good impression on the Glaswegian merchant princes, who had so little in common with their blood brothers from the hills.
At some distance away, Gavin sat astride his horse, impatiently awaiting Sara’s arrival. He had not seen her since the night of the Prince’s ball. Again she had refused to grant him any interview, and he had been reduced to the galling position of having to send polite notes through Ian, requesting that she take time from her growing friendship with Clementina Walkinshaw to see him. It was a new and unpleasant experience to have to repeatedly ask for a woman’s time. It was an almost intolerable one when she continued to refuse him.
“Tis good for ye tae be ignored,” Ian had told him. “Yer women should have done it years ago. And they would have, too, if ye weren’t always taking up with females so far below yer station they were overcome tae have an Earl’s son showing them attention. But then, I hear that decent girls’ parents lock them up when they see ye lurking about.”
That was only one of several times that Gavin was sorely tempted to knock his old friend to the ground.
“She’s agreed tae see ye, but only at the review.”
“That’s in the open. I can hardly discuss anything of a personal nature there.”
“She suggested a private interview, but I vetoed it,” Ian said coolly. For a moment, Ian thought Gavin was going to knock him down, but he contented himself with grabbing Ian by the throat and almost choking the life out of him.
“You Judas, you sneaking traitor,” Gavin snarled when he decided to allow Ian to breath again. “I thought you were my friend.”
“I am yer friend, at least I used to be,” Ian said loosening his collar, “but I like yer wife better.”
“You’re not supposed to like my wife,” growled Gavin.
“Why not? Ye don’t, and the poor lassie needs some friends in this world.”
“I do like her,” Gavin protested, startled at the vehemence in his voice. “After all, I married her,” he said sounding rather shaken.
“Ye will never get anybody to believe it from the way ye act tae her. ‘Tis the reason I insisted she meet ye in public. At least if ye start tae shout, we can have ye back in jail before ye strike her.”
“I’d never hit her!”
“Ye wouldn’t live if ye tried.” The two men’s eyes locked. “Half the army would be ready tae cut ye tae pieces.” Gavin entertained no doubts as to his old friend’s feelings either.
“My wife seems to have acquired quite a new personality since I married her. I suppose I shall have to get to know her again.”
“I doubt ye ever did know her,” said Ian, but his eyes softened. “For years ye have been too angry tae pay attention tae anyone but yourself.”
“I had reason.”
“I suppose you did, but it shouldna be allowed tae destroy the rest o’ yer life.”
Gavin paused. “You wouldn’t understand,” he said, turning away.
“Maybe not, but then I could never understand anyone who would give up.” Gavin’s eyes blazed dangerously, but before he could assault Ian again, Sara came up accompanied by the Prince.
“Lady Carlisle tells me she is unable to review the troops with me, because she has to meet her husband. I suppose you do have a superior claim to her time, but it’s rather hard on the rest of us.” He turned to Ian. “If they fall into their usual imbroglio, bring her to me immediately. They can argue at any time.” Sara looked embarrassed; Gavin held his tongue.
“Why wouldn’t you see me?” he asked, when Ian and the Prince had gone.
“There didn’t seem to be any point.”
“Wasn’t the fact that I’m your husband enough reason?”
“No.”
“You didn’t think that when we were married.”
“That’s true, but I was under several other misapprehensions then. Besides, both you and your father were too busy issuing ultimatums to listen to anything I might have said.”
“Why did you marry me?”
“I wanted to.”
“And now?”
“I don’t know.” Sara wanted to shout that he was a fool if he couldn’t see the truth in her eyes, but she stilled her tongue.
“You’ll have to make up your mind soon. The citizens’ army can’t last forever.”
“I only agreed to travel with the Prince, because our money was stolen. I couldn’t have had a more perfect escort.”
“Then you will go to Estameer with me tomorrow?”
“You’re still a prisoner. How can you leave?”
“The Prince will let me go, if you ask him.”
Sara was in a panic. She didn’t want to go to Estameer just yet. Here, she was in control of herself and of him. Once she reached Estameer, the reins of power would slip irretrievably into his hands.
She looked at him standing before her, his handsome face troubled, his powe
rful physical presence enough to tempt any girl to cast all her misgiving to the wind; she knew an overwhelming desire to end this whole charade and go off with him anywhere he wanted. She was tired of traveling like a gypsy, and being regarded by the people in whose homes she was billeted as a scourge upon the land. The warm regard of the prince and his staff was wonderful, but she knew it had to end. Why not end it now?
But would Gavin treat her any differently when they reached Estameer? He was asking her now to accompany him, but as recently as the ball, he was giving her orders. She doubted he would be any different at Estameer.
“Why don’t you answer?” Gavin asked, his temper not quite under control.
“There are so many things to consider.”
“There is only one.”
“And what is that?” asked Sara, her own temper rising.
“A wife’s place is at her husband’s side.”
“What should a man offer a woman for her to forsake all to be with him?”
“He offers his name and his protection. Isn’t that enough?”
Sara tried again. “What should a woman ask herself before she agrees to follow a man?”
“I don’t know,” Gavin answered impatiently. “What?”
“She should ask herself if she would be happier with him than someplace else.”
Gavin almost sputtered. He had never thought of that question, much less supplied an answer. “She should go with him because it’s her duty!”
Sara’s hopes plummeted. He clearly hadn’t learned anything at all. She would be treated exactly as she had been treated before, and she couldn’t go back to that. But if she refused, what would he do? What would she do if he never came back? She had already made up her mind to ask the Prince to release him. She wanted him with her, but not if he had to be imprisoned to keep him within reach.
“I don’t think I should leave just yet.”
“Why?” he demanded, his jaw hardening alarmingly.
Sara decided to be absolutely frank. “Because you still regard me as a piece of property, and not very valuable property at that. You don’t love me—I don’t hold that against you—but I don’t think you even like me.”
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