An Encounter at Hyde Park

by Karen Hawkins

  Ellie gasped. He wouldn’t do such a thing! The MacLarens would lose everything, she would lose everything if—

  “But Father had a solution.”

  “He did?” Her heart pounded furiously.

  “Ye remember he purchased Griff’s army commission?”

  Ellie nodded. She did remember. Her heart had broken the day he’d left. As a girl, she’d been so desperately in love with him, much – she supposed – like she was now.

  “Father said Griff should show his loyalty to the current crown and that when ye”—Ian’s gaze dropped to his desk as though he couldn’t look at her any longer— “when ye were of age, he’d have yer hand and the return of the old Reid land in the form of yer dowry.”

  Ellie reeled and her head spun a bit. Her father couldn’t have promised her hand to Griffin Reid. He wouldn’t have done such a thing. And if he had, he would have told her. Someone would have told her.

  “I don’t imagine he thought he could give the land away any other way,” Ian continued. “But as a dowry…”

  Ellie leapt from her chair, which – in retrospect – wasn’t the best plan as she suddenly felt faint. “That can’t be true.” And it couldn’t. Someone would have told her long before now if that was true.

  “I assure ye it is. I was there myself that day, Ellie.”

  The air rushed out of her. This was all too much! “Papa never told me! Ye never told me, Ian!” A memory of discussing Miss Throssell’s plight with Griff flashed in Ellie’s mind. She’d told him how furious she’d have been if she found herself in the same situation. He had looked a bit concerned, hadn’t he?

  “Father forbade me from it.” Ian shook his head. “And honestly, Ellie, I don’t believe he thought Griff would make it back alive. He didn’t think there was any point in telling ye.”

  He hadn’t thought Griff would make it back alive? As though her heart had been pierced by a sword, she dropped back into the chair. What a horrific suggestion. “Papa would never…”

  “Never what?” Ian’s brow lifted in question. “Never select the most elite and dangerous regiment for Griff, a green boy with no experience to serve amongst? Never keep yer betrothal from ye? Never do everything in his power to keep a terrible secret that would destroy the earldom from ever being revealed?”

  Dread swamped Ellie. Ian was right. She could feel it in her bones. Papa would do those things. Papa had done those things. She knew it as sure as she knew her own name.

  But Griff wasn’t much better. Threatening to destroy her family. Lying to her ever since he’d returned home. Toying with her affections. Kissing her. He’d never wanted her. “He only wanted my dowry,” she whispered.

  “Ye’re a dolt, Ellie.” Ian scoffed. “Griffin Reid was in love with ye, not yer damned dowry. Any imbecile with eyes could see that.”

  Any imbecile with eyes, indeed! Griff wasn’t in love with her. He didn’t even like her. He’d mocked her and her suitors. He’d… Her suitors! Every conversation she had with Griff about Lord Peasemore, about her other suitors came back in a flash. She must have sounded like a blithering idiot. All the while she’d been promised to him, but he’d never said a word. When she got her hands on him…“Where is he? Summon him here this instant.”

  “I’m not entirely certain where he’s gone, Ellie.” Ian shook his head. “When it became clear ye’d never have him, he left and I don’t blame him with the way ye treated him.”

  He truly was gone? Her heart twisted once more in her chest.

  “I offered him the land, which he didn’t take, by the by. So I offered to pay him the value of it as recompense for the broken marriage contract. He certainly upheld his end of the bargain he struck with Father. He refused that too.”

  “But he loves that land.” He was part of that land. Why wouldn’t he take it when it was offered?

  “He said without ye, the land meant nothing.” Ian shook his head. “Griffin Reid is worth ten of those English fops you’ve been flitting about with. Are ye blind, Ellie?”

  She didn’t have the time or the temperament to deal with her brother’s derision. If Griff really did love her, she had to find him. For years, she’d imagined spending the rest of her life in England, making some lord a perfect wife; but that was before Griffin Reid had stepped back into her life. Ever since he’d been gone, she’d missed him like nothing else. She’d had no idea he wouldn’t be back. But now, not knowing where he was, an emptiness swamped her and she thought she might crumble. “How are ye not certain where he went, Ian? He had to say something to ye!”

  Her brother shrugged. “He wanted to retrieve Mrs. Reid’s things from Achmore, but after that? He mentioned India. He mentioned his friend Healeyfield. I’m not certain what his plans are.”

  “India!” she squealed. She didn’t know the first thing about India. She’d never find him in India. And she had to find him. The idea filled her entire being and she knew she could never stop until she did find him.

  “Another regiment or something. I’m not certain.”

  India. Another regiment. Ellie took a staggering breath and then something her brother said sparked a bit of hope in her chest. “Wait! Ye said he wanted to retrieve his mother’s things from Achmore?”

  Ian’s eyes lit with something that made Ellie suspect he’d been playing her, waiting for her to figure out the truth for herself. If she had time to curse him, she would. But she didn’t have time and she needed her brother’s help.

  “We have to go home, Ian. We have to go home right now! Maybe we can catch him.”

  “I don’t know, Ellie. He has several days on us.”

  Days. He’d been gone days? If Ellie hadn’t been so foolish, if she’d known the truth, if Ian had kept Griff from leaving in the first place... “Then we don’t have time to waste, Ian. We have to go. We have to go right now.”

  “Why?” Her brother didn’t move even as much as in inch.

  “Because…” Because she’d been a fool. Because she’d treated him badly. Because she hadn’t known the truth. Because… “I love him and I have to tell him.”

  Captain Griffin Reid

  Achmore Manor

  Griffin,

  I am on my way to Loch Ericht as you read this. You left something important behind in London and I am returning it to you with great haste. Please do not leave Achmore until I have seen you.

  Your devoted friend,

  Ian

  Griff frowned once more at the letter in his hand. It had arrived two days after he’d returned home and he couldn’t imagine what he could have possibly left behind in London that would require Ian to personally return it to him. Of course, his mind had been such a jumble that last day. And while he was glad to rest his aching back from the long and painful mail coach ride before setting off again, Griff was anxious to get on with the remainder of his life.

  He’d spent so much time in London trying to win Ellie’s heart, but it had all been for naught. Of course, if he’d been successful in his suit, his time and effort would have been well spent. But he hadn’t been successful, and the length of the ride to Loch Ericht hadn’t dulled the pain in his heart or the memory in his mind.

  Figuring out what to do with the rest of his life, when his life hadn’t gone as planned thus far was quite the daunting task. His great-aunt Lara must have felt similarly. Her brother had perished in battle. The love of her life had been captured, sentenced to hang for treason. And he’d ensured the loss of everything belonging to her family in the process – their land, money and good names. He couldn’t imagine the loss and despair she must have suffered. It was no wonder she’d thrown herself from that window.

  Griff found himself standing outside Lara’s chambers. Echoes of his and Ian’s laughter when they were boys sounded in his ears. They’d dared each other to enter the haunted room, to search out Lara Reid’s ghost and vanquish it. They’d been foolish boys who knew nothing of life beyond the shores of Loch Ericht.

  He pushed open the d
oor. Coverings blanketed everything, the bed, desk, chairs, the wardrobe. Mother must have seen to the chamber’s preservation at one point. When he and Ian had strode through that door a decade before, there were no coverings, just a faded, dusty chamber that looked like it must have the day Lara leapt to her death. A chamber lost in time, waiting for its ill-fated mistress to return. It looked more haunted then than it did now, or perhaps it had just been the imaginative minds of foolish lads.

  He stepped inside, remembering that fateful day so long ago. They’d hauled open the wardrobe, full of bravado. They searched beneath the four-poster, rummaged through the desk. Then they’d opened the bench beneath the window.

  Griff crossed the floor, knelt before that very bench, and removed the covering that protected it from dust and the sun’s rays. “I am sorry,” he said aloud, retrieving a very old letter from inside his jacket pocket. He’d been afraid to leave the letter behind when he left Achmore as a boy, afraid Niall MacLaren would find and destroy the evidence of his family’s perfidy, destroy Griffin’s only chance to reclaim his family’s legacy.

  Over the years, he’d read the letter from start to finish so many times, he could recite passages from memory. He’d always focused on Angus MacLaren’s confession, letting the man’s words of betrayal enrage him anew each and every time. But now… now it was the heartfelt plea that Lara forgive him for his sins, his professions of undying love and regret that he would never look upon her again. That pain, that anguish, now tugged at Griff’s heart.

  But the letter wasn’t his. It had never been his. It belonged to Lara and he shouldn’t have taken it. “I shouldn’t have kept this,” he said softly, lifting the lid to the bench. Then he placed the letter inside, just where he’d found it all those years ago. “I’d hoped to return our family to our rightful place, but none of that matters now.” He glanced about the room, Lara’s sadness from seven decades earlier swamping him. “I do hope ye found peace. And I hope ye found Angus in death.”

  Then he closed the bench lid, rose back to his feet and dusted his hands across his trousers. As he started for the corridor, a faint sent of wisteria swirled about him and a bit of wind brushed through his hair, almost like a caress. He glanced back at the window, finding it quite closed. Where the devil had wind… And then the answer hit him, as unlikely as it seemed. Lara. Lara Reid was still there.

  He smiled sadly as he scanned the room, looking for anything else that might explain the bit of wind that now was gone. But everything was locked up tight. There was no breeze nor did a hint of wisteria linger in the air. “Don’t worry about me,” he said to the room at large. “I’ll be just fine, like I always have been.”

  And then he strode from the chambers, shutting the door behind him once he reached the corridor. His heart pounded and he glanced back at the now closed door. Was he losing his mind? The sooner he left Achmore, the better.

  If Ellie never laid eyes on Ian again, it would be too soon. The weeks it had taken to travel north to Loch Ericht had been nothing but pure torture. He changed their carriage horses more often than was needed. He slept late at several inns along the way. And he seemed wholly unconcerned about whether or not she made it to Achmore before Griffin disappeared to parts unknown. One would have thought her brother would be a bit more loyal than all that, especially considering the fact that he’d kept a rather large truth from her for a decade.

  “I’d like to stop at Castle Ericht to freshen up before we head over to Achmore,” Ian said, just as Loch Ericht came into view.

  “So ye can freshen up?” Ellie glared at her brother, in the vain hope that her expression might slice him in two. “How about ye leave me at Achmore, and then ye can go home and take yer sweet time freshening up?”

  His brow lifted in slight amusement. “A bit anxious are ye?”

  A bit anxious. She’d been more than a bit anxious since before they left London. What if they didn’t reach Griff in time? What if he’d already set off for Godforsaken India? What if another idea had popped into his head on the way to Achmore and she never found him? “I am being as nice to ye as I can possibly be, Ian MacLaren. Do not provoke me.”

  Ian chuckled. “A little late for that. I’ve been provoking ye since ye were in leading strings, Ellie.”

  She was going to slowly murder him. Irritating brother! How had she been plagued with him all of her life? “If ye’d like to continue living, Ian, ye’d better tell me we’re headed straight for Achmore.”

  “If teasing ye wasn’t so much fun, I wouldn’t do it. “ He laughed again. “Of course we’re headed straight for Achmore. Do ye think I’d take ye all the way home to let ye lose Griff now?” Then he leveled her with his dark blue eyes. “Of course, if ye hadn’t been a fool, ye’d have never lost him in the first place.”

  As though she needed to be reminded of that. She’d spend the rest of her life making amends for her foolishness…if she reached Achmore in time. If she didn’t reach there in time…

  “Ah, there it is.” Her brother gestured as the large Tudor manor came into view. Achmore. As a girl, she thought it much more to her liking than drafty Castle Ericht. It was warmer, less imposing.

  “What if he’s not here?” she wondered aloud.

  “He’ll be here,” Ian said, without a bit of concern in his voice. “The better question, Ellie, is what are ye going to say to him once we get there?”

  “That’s none of yer concern.” As though she’d pour her heart out to Ian. She’d thought about what to say to Griff the entire length of their journey. But that was just for his ears, not her brother’s.

  “Ye wounded the man’s pride. Ye better be careful how ye go about this.”

  She scowled at Ian. “I think I have it perfectly under control.”

  “Aye.” He glanced out the window as Achmore grew closer and closer. “But it was yer thinking that got ye into this mess in the first place.”

  “Ian!” she ground out. Heavens, he could make a saint curse.

  “Fine. Fine.” He lifted his hands in surrender. “I was going to offer advice, but if ye don’t want it…”

  She didn’t want anything except for quiet. She wanted to hear her own thoughts and nothing else. Ellie leaned forwards on the bench as the coach rambled up Achmore’s drive. She was almost there.

  Almost.

  Please, please, please, let Griffin still be there.

  Ellie bounded up Achmore’s front steps. She knocked quickly, but there was no answer.

  “Try the handle,” Ian advised from somewhere behind her.

  Ellie turned the handle, but it didn’t open. “He’s not here,” she said dejectedly. She’d been foolish to think she could catch him in time. If only she knew where he planned to go from there. She spun on her heels and swiped at tears as she faced at her brother. “Why did ye have to take so long getting me here?” How much time could they have saved if he hadn’t been a slug-a-bed? How much time could they have saved if he’d driven the horses longer? How much time could they have saved if they’d traveled a few miles more each day?

  A frown marred Ian’s face. “He’s got to be here somewhere. I sent a letter.” He brushed past Ellie and tried the handle himself, as though she didn’t know how to open a door. Of course, it was just as locked as it had been when Ellie had tried it.

  “What do ye mean a letter?” she asked, her heart sinking as she took in the desolate scene of a deserted Achmore.

  “I told him I had something of his and not to leave until I’d returned it to him.”

  She was an it now? A something that belonged to Griff? She managed to hold back tears from trickling down her cheeks as she glared at her brother. “Ye are the furthest thing from charming. Do ye know that?”

  Ian shrugged. “I thought it enigmatic enough to keep his interest. I thought if I told him I was bringing ye to Loch Ericht that he’d bolt.”

  That was even less complimentary, even if it was true. Perhaps Griff hadn’t received the letter. Perhaps he h
adn’t cared about whatever Ian meant to return to him. Perhaps he’d figured out Ellie was the it and bolted like Ian feared. Ellie’s heart sank lower, which she hadn’t known was possible.

  After a moment, Ian reached his hand out to her. “Come on, love. We’ll figure something out. Let’s head over to Castle Ericht and get a bit of rest first.”

  But the last thing Ellie wanted was to get back inside that dratted coach. Despite the emotional devastation that swamped her, despite the fact that she wasn’t certain if she could stand let alone walk all the few miles to her family seat, she’d be loathe before she got back inside that carriage. “I’d rather walk, Ian.”

  He nodded quickly. “Fresh Scottish air. Good idea. I’ll come with ye.”

  But she didn’t want Ian to come with her. It was already difficult enough holding back the deluge of tears, and when they did fall, she didn’t want an audience, not even her brother. “I’d rather be alone, if ye don’t mind,” she said, hating that her voice hitched a bit.

  Ian stared at her a while, then finally nodded in acquiescence. “Ye still know the way?”

  A mirthless laugh escaped her. “I know every patch of this land as well as ye do, Ian MacLaren.”

  “All right, all right.” He held up his hands in mock surrender. “I’ll see ye at home, then.”

  Home. She hadn’t thought of Castle Ericht as home for quite a while. She’d been in London so long and she’d have been quite happy never to return to the Highlands, but here she was…without Griff. “See ye at home,” she replied.

  As Ian started towards their traveling coach, the high-pitched call of a sandpiper near the loch caught Ellie’s attention and she stared out towards the blue waters, not too far away. She remembered Griff once challenging her to swim the length of Loch Ericht. She remembered tromping across the water’s rocky shore, chasing after the bigger and faster boys as they tried to escape her. She remembered the time she’d slipped and fallen on those very rocks. Ian had run off laughing like a hyena that he’d evaded her, but Griff had stopped and turned back to make certain she was all right. When he discovered that blood trickled from her knee, he’d scooped her up in his arms and carried her all the way to Achmore.