Sweet Temptation
Page 34
“You never have completely stopped loving your father, have you?”
“No, which was why I hated him all the more. Does that make sense to you?”
“I think so.”
“Well, I can accept him now. I still think he’s a bloody beast, and I could kill him for what he did to my mother, if it would do any good, but I can accept that, too. And I could accept it if your love for me were to change.”
“I will never—”
“I know,” Gavin whispered, putting his fingers to her lips, “but I could accept it. I know now you have to take chances in life, and that you can’t win every time, that you have to go on living. Ian risked everything he loved. He lost, but he will start over. You lost everything when your father died. I was blind to think I suffered more than others, or that my tragedy hadn’t been acted out thousands of times before. If you hadn’t been determined to force me to learn to love you, I might still be in the airless cocoon I built for myself, foolishly thinking I was protecting my life from hurt, even more stupidly thinking that what I had was worth protecting.”
“And you have freed me from a limited view of life.” Sara chuckled in spite of the lump in her throat. “I can’t say I’ve liked everything that has happened to me over the last five months, but without them I would be a woman of very restricted experience, with little understanding of the world or her husband.”
“You can’t pretend that throwing you to the wolves was a virtue.”
“No, but you didn’t have to give me a chance to become your real wife. Even in Glasgow, you never turned your back on me.”
“How could I, when Ian and the Prince were parading you all over town. I met you at every turn.”
“I was always looking for you. Betty was disgusted with me.”
“Do you know when I think I started to fall in love with you?” Gavin said.
“No.”
“When we were returning from the church.”
“But I had fainted.”
“How could I be angry with a woman who had fainted?”
“You already know when I fell in love with you.”
“When I was showing off for the coachman,” Gavin said with a grimace. “I hope I’ve improved since then.”
Sara let her hand run over his powerful shoulder and then through the soft mat of hair on his chest. “Just a little. Now, if you could just not clench your jaw so hard when you get angry. It makes you look like you’ve got walnuts in your cheeks.” Gavin tumbled her over and kissed her until she was breathless.
“Now look what you’ve done,” complained Sara. “I’ve lost my paper.”
“Here it is,” Gavin said, fishing it out from where it had been crushed under him. It was badly wrinkled. “I’ll give you another one.”
“This is quite good enough for what I want,” Sara said, and proceeded to rip the paper in half, turn it around, and rip it again several times more. She sprinkled the pieces all over Gavin.
“What did you do that for?”
“I remembered a line in the service that said you endowed me with all your worldly goods. I don’t need a paper to give me what I already have.”
“But I thought—”
“So did I, but I was wrong. But you can kiss me again. That’s something I will never have enough of.”
Gavin didn’t require a second invitation. That he had found everything he wanted in a woman—in one woman—was a surprise. That she was his wife, was incredible.
And Sara welcomed his embraces. She was in awe of what had been given her, that Gavin should love her as much as she loved him. She thought of her father and smiled. Now she understood.
Author’s Note
The Scottish army under Charles Stuart and Lord George Murray penetrated England as far south as Derby on December 6, 1745, roughly one hundred and twenty miles from London. There was a panic in the city, and George II ordered his private yacht ready to sail at a moment’s notice.
Bonnie Prince Charlie never did forgive his clan chieftains for forcing him to retreat from Derby. There is considerable conjecture as to what might have happened if he had been allowed to proceed to London, and the promised help had come from France, but as it is only conjecture, it doesn’t concern us here. He gradually removed his trust from the clan chieftains and Lord George, and placed it in the hands of a few hangers-on in his personal party. This had disastrous results during his long illness in the winter of 1746, and in the preparations for the battle of Culloden.
A reward of thirty thousand pounds, an incredible sum in 1746, was placed on the Prince’s head by the English government, but it is even more remarkable that during the five months the Prince was in hiding, not a single person—and he was helped by many people during that time—attempted to claim the reward. He did elude capture by masquerading as the maid of Flora McDonald, but this did not take place where I have placed it in the book, or in the same manner.
Sara and Gavin are entirely fictional, as is their story, but the facts about the Highland army, its leaders and its battles, are accurate. I have used first hand accounts and, in so far as was possible, I have paraphrased the actual words of Bonnie Prince Charles, Lord George Murray, Lieutenant-General Henry Hawley, James Wolfe, and William Augustus, Duke of Cumberland.
The reprisals after Culloden were unbelievably cruel, the bayonetting of the wounded on the battlefield being only one of the gruesome acts intended to insure that such an uprising for the Stuart cause would never take place again. The clan system was systematically dismantled, the Highlanders were forbidden to render military service to their chief, the chief lost jurisdiction over his people—some also lost their lands—and wearing of the tartan was banned. The tartan and confiscated lands were restored after 1782, but the clan system was effectively destroyed, as much by changes in agriculture as government interference.
Emigration to America had been going on for many years prior to the rebellion, but it became a common way for survivors of the ’45 to escape the brutal consequences of their loyalty to the last Stuart.
About the Author
Leigh Greenwood is the award-winning author of over fifty books, many of which have appeared on the USA Today bestseller list. Leigh lives in Charlotte, North Carolina. Please visit his website at http://www.leigh-greenwood.com/.