“I’m afraid it is. Truth and honesty often suffer badly at the hands of greed and guile.”
“It sounds as though you have learned a difficult lesson.”
“No, merely been forced to review one I had already studied. Now, tell me of yourself and Clementina since Glasgow. I have been told that you were gravely ill.”
So they talked of many things, being careful to avoid the issues which touched them most closely. They talked with the ease and honesty of old friends, and it was thus that Gavin found them, when he burst in upon them unannounced.
“This is too bad,” the Prince said, rising. “Am I never to enjoy a conversation with Lady Carlisle without your interrupting us?”
Gavin’s eyes never left Sara. “Stay or go, I don’t care, but I must talk to my wife.”
A single look, and Sara had the answer to the only question that mattered. It was all there in his face—the fear, the pain, the love. Whatever remained to be said could be left to some other time. She was out of the chair and into his arms almost before she knew it. Then she was trying to talk, trying to breathe; Gavin’s grip was so tight she feared he would break her ribs.
“Don’t say anything,” Gavin said, covering her face with kisses. “I don’t care what you did or why you did it, I only want you back at Estameer. I don’t know what came over me—madness I suppose—but I didn’t mean anything I said. I love you, Sara Carlisle. I love you so much I can’t stand the thought of your not being wherever I am. I know the hell my mother went through, but I don’t care, as long as I have you.”
“When you hold me in your arms like this, it is pure heaven.” Sara laughed aloud as the tears poured down her face. “It’s only hell when your love is not returned.” She didn’t know why happiness had to be bought at the price of such bitter pain, but she decided not to question fate. For the moment, she was happy and that was all that mattered.
“There’s one thing I have to tell you.”
“You don’t have to tell me anything. I don’t care—”
Sara put her fingers over his lips. “I’m going to have a baby,” she said. “You’ll have to want both of us back.”
After all he had gone through these last few days, Gavin was surprised that anything had the power to affect him, but he was amazed at the impact of Sara’s words. Even though Colleen had warned him, there was something magical about hearing the news from his wife’s lips.
“Aren’t you going to say anything?”
“I don’t know. I’ve said and done so much that was wrong, I’m afraid to do anything anymore.”
“Just tell me you are pleased.” She was afraid she had told him too abruptly. Maybe he still wasn’t ready.
“I’m very pleased. That’s what I don’t understand. Maybe it’s knowing that it will be your child, but it’s not at all what I had thought it would be like. It’s wonderful.”
“Everything won’t be wonderful. I will grow fat.”
“I’ve always thought you were too thin.”
“And I shall become very short of temper.”
“Betty has always said you were far too reasonable and understanding.”
“I shall demand all manner of strange foods.”
“I shall hire a French chef.”
Sara laughed joyously. “Is there nothing! can say that will make you regret your child?”
“Only that it will drive me from your bed.”
“You will never leave my bed or my arms.”
“I’m pleased to see that one of our ventures has reached a happy conclusion,” remarked the Prince. They had forgotten about him. “I realize I should have withdrawn. I apologize, but I was determined to see that Lady Carlisle was not mistreated. I am very fond of her.”
“No more than I.”
“No, well, I should hope so. And now, if you would not scorn my counsel, I suggest that you either return to your home, or remove to Cumberland’s camp immediately. There will be a reckoning very soon, and I doubt he would understand your being here.”
“We shall remove to Cumberland’s camp. My father travels with him, and I have much to say to him.”
Betty entered the room at that moment. She took one look at her mistress firmly held in Gavin’s arms, and charged down on them like a vengeful tigress protecting her only cub. “God almighty, milady,” she snorted, her face a picture of disgust, “haven’t you been injured enough by that man to know not to put yourself in his way again? You might as well lie down in front of a runaway wagon as to take up with him. At least the Fraser never made you cry.”
“I’m crying with happiness, Betty.”
“Nobody cries from happiness, unless they’ve cried from misery first,” decreed Betty. “And this man is certainly a misery, but I suppose you’re as determined as ever to have him.”
“Aye,” said Sara, smiling up into Gavin’s eyes. “I am.”
Chapter 25
Tuesday, April 15, 1746
Sara didn’t like Cumberland; she liked Lt. Gen. Henry Hawley even less; she liked being with the English army as it readied itself for battle least of all. They had none of the high spirits and feeling of camaraderie that made the Highlanders a joy to be around, and very little of their manners either. Betty had more than once threatened to brain one of the soldiers, none of whom accorded her mistress the respect she felt was due a lady and a future peeress. Sara’s most fervently expressed wish was to be back at Estameer, but she and Gavin were unable to leave. The Earl had been absent when they arrived, and Cumberland had asked them to remain for the celebration of his birthday.
“I never know where you’re going to turn up next, dear boy,” he told Gavin, “and I have even less idea what you’re going to be doing. Not everyone has my faith in you.”
Sara wondered just how much faith the Duke really had in his old acquaintance, but she made no comment. At twenty-three, William Augustus, Duke of Cumberland, was his father’s second son and his greatest favorite. He was a tall, forceful man with a fleshy, porcine face, long nose, and sensual mouth.
“He has been brought up to be a soldier,” Gavin had explained to Sara later. “He is brave, forthright, confident, aggressive, and quite brisk of manner. He never shirks danger, but faces it head on, thereby winning his men’s respect and achieving a deserved reputation for heroism.”
Privately Sara thought men were poor judges of character. Cumberland might be everything Gavin said, but she was certain he could be brutal and intentionally cruel as well. She did not enjoy his birthday celebrations, and she was relieved when the Earl finally arrived. She didn’t look forward to the interview, but it meant she and Gavin were closer to being able to go home, together. Sara didn’t intend to let Gavin out of her sight for a long time.
The Earl had not changed a bit since she had last seen him in London. He was just as thin, his eyes just as cruel, his mouth just as hard, and his words just as lacking in any kind of real kindness for his son.
“I see you have brought your wife with you,” he remarked, as Gavin showed Sara to a chair. “Do you not care that you are seen with a woman of questionable reputation?”
“I will tell you this just once,” Gavin said, facing his father with the same cold, remorseless eyes. “Speak of my wife in that manner again, and I shall knock you down. Do it a third time, and I shall break your neck.”
The Earl regarded his son speculatively for a moment. “You know, I quite believe you would.” Gavin made no reply. “Oh well, what you do is your own concern really, especially as long as you remain in Scotland. You could keep a harem, and I doubt anyone in London would know or care about it.” Still Gavin did not answer; this irritated the Earl, and he shifted his attention to Sara.
“You seem to have accomplished quite a bit more than I anticipated,” he said, glancing with pointed emphasis at his son. “There is much more of your father in you than I suspected.”
“My father was a kind and generous man,” Sara said, quick to defend her parent.
&nb
sp; “So he was, too much so for my tastes,” the Earl admitted, “but he was never one to let foolish sentimentality get in the way of achieving his ends. It appears you have been equally businesslike.”
“I prefer to think that my success has been the result of genuine love and an honest heart.”
“Pray, do not disgust me so early in the morning,” the Earl protested, raising one white hand as though to ward off some offensive sight. “Being attached to this encampment of savages has already stretched my tolerance beyond all reasonable limits.”
“You might as well save your breath,” Gavin told Sara. “My father will never believe that a profit can be had from honest and plain dealing.”
“It can,” the Earl put in, “but it seldom is, and then in unacceptably small amounts. But then I doubt you sought me out for the purpose of discovering my business philosophies. Why did you trouble yourself to find me?”
“I came to ask you to honor your agreement,” Gavin said, “The one you made with Sara.”
“Are you aware of all its conditions?” Gavin nodded. “I take it then, that you agree they have been met?”
“Completely.”
“Then how is it I see no heir? That is the one condition that is unalterable.”
“I carry Gavin’s child at this very moment,” Sara told him.
“Suppose it should be a girl, or stillborn?”
“We will have others.”
“And what assurances can you give me of that?”
“Dammit, there’s no reason for Sara to wait around until you’re satisfied about the child’s sex and health. The money should rightly be in my control as it is. I want you to sign it back to me.”
“I can’t do that, not here, miles away from civilization.”
“You know quite well all you have to do is sign a letter of intent. Your damned bankers are only too quick to do anything you ask of them.”
“Your faith in my abilities is touching, it really is, but not even I can alter a contract with the wave of my hands.”
“But we don’t have a contract,” Gavin said, the sharp edge of anger sounding in his voice. “It was merely an agreement. I took note of that before I signed it, and it can be voided by no more than a note to the solicitors with your signature.”
“You have become observant,” the Earl said, sounding not in the least pleased by his son’s demonstration of this talent. “Since when did you begin to appreciate the intricacies of business?”
“I always have, but I said nothing, because it would have required that I too closely associate with you.”
“Your devotion overwhelms me.”
“Be done with your everlasting pretense and write that letter,” Gavin directed, and turned to find paper and a pen.
“I don’t think this is a good time.”
“I don’t care. Write it anyway.”
“And if I don’t?”
“I’ll make you.”
The Earl smiled, and Sara would have sworn it was a smile of amusement, if the subject of their conversation hadn’t been so serious. “Now, just how might you achieve that? Surely you don’t plan to use force, not right in the middle of the Duke’s encampment?”
Gavin looked at him, and his eyes blazed with such fury it scared Sara. “A lot of people are going to die before this war is over. I don’t think they’ll question the disappearance of one more, one way or the other.”
“You would harm your own father?”
“Not as readily as you’ve tried to destroy my happiness,” Gavin told him, the red flame burning brighter still, “but I won’t allow you to interfere in my life anymore, no matter what I have to do to prevent it.”
Sara was nearly paralyzed with shock, but the two men stared at each other out of identical pairs of eyes, their expressions equally cold and equally determined.
“I believe you would. Would try, that is, but I’ve always been more clever than you.”
“There’s no need for Gavin to use force, or to have to prove that he is more clever,” Sara said, intruding on the two men who were locked in a struggle for supremacy. “I have the letter you wrote to Charles Stuart, and if you don’t do what Gavin asks, I’ll give it to Cumberland.”
The effect on Gavin was substantial, but the impact on the Earl was stunning. He staggered as though he had been struck a powerful blow, and his parchment complexion turned dead white.
“What letter?” he managed to ask, but his reaction had already convinced his surprised son that there was such a letter. What stunned him was that it should be in Sara’s possession.
“I can read a part of it, if you would like.”
The Earl made a desperate lunge at Sara, but even more quickly Gavin interposed himself between Sara and his father, the back of his hand sending the Earl to the floor. Before the older man could recover, Gavin dragged him to his feet. “Lay one hand on her, and I’ll kill you now.” From the look of unbridled fury on Gavin’s face, Sara was afraid he was going to kill him anyway. “How did you come by that letter?” he asked Sara.
“Ian gave it to me,” she admitted, then decided to tell Gavin everything. “He was going to use it to force you to let me go away with him, but when he kissed me and realized I did not love him, he gave it to me. He said he had no use for it, and being the Earl’s daughter-in-law, I might need it someday.”
“See what kind of Jezebel you’ve married,” snarled the Earl. Gavin back-handed him again.
“I have reason to be grateful for the wife you gave me. You chose better than you knew.” He turned back to Sara. “That was the kiss I saw?”
She nodded. “It was the only time I have ever been kissed by a man other than you and my father.”
There was a plea for forgiveness in Gavin’s eyes; Sara answered it with her own. Gavin swallowed, and turned back to his father.
“I think it’s time you wrote your lawyers.”
“What harm do you think you can do with that letter?” The Earl was bluffing, still trying to find a way to keep the money.
“Even if any promises or offers of assistance contained in the letter are vague and inconclusive, and I am quite certain they are, I doubt Cumberland will like finding a traitor in his camp. In his present mood, he would hang you. Your only chance of escape would be to leave England. And I imagine there is a good chance Hawley would be given your estates.” The Earl blanched. “I would do what I could to see that you received a generous allowance, but someone would be needed to manage your business concerns in your absence, and I imagine your boards of directors would turn to me as the logical choice.”
“No one will get their hands on my property as long as I live.”
“Then write the letter. I’m not going to destroy this letter, until Sara’s money is back in my hands.”
The Earl dragged himself to a small table, picked up the paper and pen, and began to write. “You should take equal care that your wife is not suspect,” he said maliciously, as he handed the sheet to Gavin for his inspection. “Everyone knows she traveled with the Prince when he left England, and she’s just been to visit him again. She could be in danger of losing her own head.”
“I’m sending Sara home as soon as I can arrange her transport,” Gavin said. Sara looked up quickly, surprised. “I have to stay. Father’s right. There’s no way out of it. You must be gone before the battle. I want no one remembering and coming to ask questions. Tempers sometimes grow too heated under the stress of battle, and cause people to make decisions they later regret.”
Sara could see the wisdom of Gavin’s decision, but she dreaded being separated from him again, even though she had no doubt he would return to her as soon as possible. The misunderstanding over Ian had merely pointed out the danger of what could happen between two people, no matter how much they trusted each other. She didn’t intend to give fate, in the guise of the Earl and any other malevolent person in the camp, a second chance to drive a wedge between them.
Sara still felt that way an hour
later as she prepared to climb into their coach. Cumberland had almost refused them the use of their own horses and equipment, but reluctantly agreed when Gavin told him Sara was expecting a child.
“You must go straight home,” Gavin reiterated. “By midday, I want you as far from Inverness as possible. This whole business will come to a head soon. When it’s over, many people you know are going to be dead, and I don’t want you to see that.”
“You’re going to fight?” Sara asked Gavin, cold fear making her feet pause on the steps.
“I told the Duke and Hawley that I would stay here as they wanted, but I would take no part in the battle. I can not lift a hand against neighbors and friends I’ve known since childhood.”
“What will happen to Ian?” Gavin tried to suppress a surge of jealousy and was only partially successful.
“I don’t know.”
“Will you look for him, after the battle I mean? I don’t mean just for me,” Sara said when she saw him hesitate. “I know you two don’t agree about the Prince, and I’ve seen jealousy drive a wedge between you, but he was your best friend. I think he still is.”
“I’ll find him,” Gavin assured her, knowing it was virtually impossible to find any single individual in the gory aftermath of a battle.
They were interrupted by Betty’s increasingly loud altercation with the soldier loading Sara’s trunk.
“You turn Lady Carlisle’s clothes out in the dirt, and you’ll be picking yourself up as well,” Betty told him, as the surly man started to lift the small trunk from where he had let it fall in the mud.
“Aw, shut up, you bleeding beanstalk. You’re lucky the Duke ain’t locked you and your bleeding ladyship up for being the traitors you are.” Betty jerked the man to his feet, hit him squarely in the jaw with her fist, and tossed him out of the way. She then picked up the trunk with ease, fitted it into the boot of the carriage, and ordered a second soldier to load the remaining luggage. The soldier took one look at the crumpled heap that was his companion, and loaded the luggage without objection.
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