‘What do you want?’ she asked, and though her voice trembled there was a touch of her mother’s hauteur in her tone. Louise, Kirstin thought, had been very wrong in thinking her daughter lacked spine.
There was no time now for explanations, all that could wait until the girls were safe. ‘Philippa,’ Kirstin said calmly, ‘my name is Kirstin. This man with me is Cameron. We’ve been sent by your mother, Mrs Louise Ferguson, to take you home.’
Jeannie whimpered and would have come forward, but Philippa caught her, pushing the maid behind her, glaring at Kirstin from under fierce brows exactly like her mother’s.
‘Why hasn’t my mother come herself? We haven’t made any trouble. We’ve eaten our dinners and we’ve kept quiet and we’ve not made a fuss, exactly as we’ve been told to do. So if the ransom has been paid why hasn’t Mama come to fetch us?’
Ransom! So this was how the girls were kept in line—with the promise of release. At least they had been spared the agony of knowing their real fate, but it was a hideous lie to feed them.
‘Philippa,’ Kirstin said urgently, ‘there has been no ransom demand. Your mother has had to resort to other methods to rescue you. I cannot explain right now, there is no time, but believe me, your only chance of escape is with us, right now.’
‘But they said—’
‘Dr Black?’ Mrs Allardyce knocked on the door. ‘Have you completed your preliminary examination?’
‘Get on the bed,’ Kirstin said, in a tone which brooked no argument.
Cowed, the girls did as she bade them, watching wide-eyed as she removed a fiendish-looking pair of forceps from the doctor’s bag and held them out for Cameron, who had hurriedly cast off his cloak and gloves. Jeannie gave a shriek at the sight of the instrument, and even Philippa whimpered. No need to tell them to look as if they’d been traumatised, Kirstin thought darkly, recalling her own first glimpse of one of those fearful implements.
She pulled out a towel spattered with pig’s blood from the bag and draped it over her arm. ‘Philippa, your mother has a miniature of you which she keeps in a blue enamel case,’ she whispered. She tried desperately to recall what Louise Ferguson had been wearing at their one and only meeting. ‘And she has a ring, rose gold, with five garnets set in the shape of a cross. And a gold locket, oval in shape.’
‘It has a lock of my father’s hair in it. Who are you?’
Kirstin heaved a sigh of relief. ‘Please do as we ask, say nothing, and you will be with your mother very shortly.’
Philippa nodded. ‘Jeannie, did you hear that?’ she asked her maid gently. ‘Hush, now, do as they say, and we’ll be home soon.’
‘Take this,’ Kirstin said, pushing a second gruesome towel into Jeannie’s hands. ‘Hold it here,’ she said, ‘as if...’
‘Dr Black! If you do not open this door...’
‘Now, now, Mrs Allardyce, I was trying to preserve the girls’ dignity.’ Cameron waved the forceps in the woman’s face. ‘Our very important little miss passes muster, as far as I’m concerned, but I would prefer the absolute certainty a very quick second opinion would provide. Unfortunately, we have a little bit of a problem with her handmaiden. Nurse Grey?’
Kirstin obligingly held up the gruesome towel. She pointed to Jeannie, clutching the second towel in her lap, hoping that Mrs Allardyce was the squeamish type and not inclined to question the exact nature of either Jeannie’s complaint or Dr Black’s examination.
‘Not a handmaiden at all,’ Dr Black said, tutting, ‘but soiled goods, I’m afraid. You see what a wise decision it was to call me in? She’ll make a full recovery, but she’s of no use to your benefactor. I’ll take her with me, find her a more appropriate home.’
He tapped the side of his nose, then clapped his hands together. ‘Nurse Grey, young ladies, let us be off. The sooner we are gone the sooner we will be back.’
‘This is most unusual,’ Mrs Allardyce protested. ‘I am not at all sure...’
‘Ah, but you will be, with the benefit of a second examination,’ Dr Black said. ‘An hour, two at the most, and I’ll have her back to you. Better safe than sorry, that’s what I say. I’ve no more desire to upset our paymasters than you.’
Kirstin hurriedly wrapped her short cape around Philippa, while Cameron held out his cloak for Jeannie, placing himself between the girl and Mrs Allardyce so that she did not see Kirstin grabbing the bloodied towel and shoving it back into the bag along with the forceps. Jeannie could barely stand, but Philippa whispered something reassuring in her ear and pushed her forward.
Kirstin led the way, with Cameron at the rear, the two girls sandwiched between them. She fought the urge to run, heading down the stairs at a stately pace, aware of Dr Black still making booming small talk, though the roaring in her ears prevented her from taking in a word.
The thugs were in position at the bottom of the stairs. Kirstin made for the door. One of them rushed in front of her. She had just enough time to wonder frantically if she could lift the heavy doctor’s bag high enough to hit him square in the face when he opened the door for her and stood back.
The carriage was waiting. The driver, seeing them, jumped down from the box and lowered the steps. Kirstin discovered that she could still find solace in prayer as she stood back to let Philippa and Jeannie in. She climbed in after them.
Dr Black bid Mrs Allardyce a last fruity adieu and a promise that her helpfulness would be extolled. Then Cameron leapt into the coach, slammed the door shut and it was over.
* * *
When they had arrived at the house where Louise was staying Kirstin had firmly refused to leave the coach, not wishing to intrude on the reunion. She completed the business of covering their trail by paying their driver to lose his memory, returning late to the hotel and a note from Cameron, informing her that he was staying for dinner with Mrs Ferguson.
The following morning she received a second note, informing her that he would be wholly occupied for some hours assisting Mrs Ferguson—still Mrs Ferguson, not Louise—complete her travel arrangements north with all possible speed. Understandable, and extremely wise, Kirstin thought. Louise wished to thank her in person, but Kirstin decided against this. Seeing Cameron’s face as they’d left Half Moon Street had been all the thanks she needed.
So she wrote her own note, informing Cameron that she was taking a walk in Hyde Park and would see him at dinner. The weather co-operated with her desire for fresh air and solitude, a chill breeze making the few clouds which dared to blot the clear blue winter’s sky scud along. The park was virtually deserted. It was too cold for nursery maids and their children, too early in the year for the hoi polloi to take the air and show off their horses, their toilettes and their mistresses, so Kirstin had nothing but the ducks and a few hardy souls taking their daily constitutional for company.
She wandered aimlessly, trying to conjure up the satisfaction of a job very well done, which she had every right to, but signally failing. The case was over. Philippa and Jeannie were both safe and would recover fully from their ordeal in time. Cameron had made good on his promise to Louise, the debt he believed he owed her paid. And Kirstin had made good on her promise to Cameron.
Their time together was almost over. Tonight would be her last in the hotel, for there was no reason to linger there. Tomorrow she would go home to Eilidh, and Cameron—most likely Cameron would escort Louise and Phillipa safely back to Edinburgh.
It was over. There was no point in crying or feeling sorry for herself, especially when she had exactly what she wanted, a happy outcome for the case, and for her the reassurance that she had made the right decision all those years ago, when Eilidh had first been given into her arms.
She would miss Cameron. Dreadfully at first. But it would pass. And she would have no cause to question her decision again. Nor ever to see him again either.
She halted at the edge of the Serpentine, starin
g blindly at the murky waters as she tried to get herself under control. There was still tonight. They would be together tonight. They would make love tonight. One last time. She would make it memorable. And when morning came—
But she wouldn’t think about the morning.
‘Kirstin.’
She whirled round. ‘Cameron!’
‘You didn’t call,’ he said. ‘Louise was very disappointed. She couldn’t understand why you were so reluctant—but in the end she wrote you a note.’
‘You know that it is my policy to remain in the background.’
‘I thought this case was different. Obviously not.’ He offered her his arm. ‘Shall we walk? It’s cold standing here.’
She sighed, doing as she was bade, and they began to follow the path around the Serpentine. She didn’t have to explain herself. Yet she couldn’t resist. ‘I have already broken a great many of my own rules in taking your case on. It is different from any other, you’re right about that.’
‘Then why won’t you see Louise?’
‘Because she doesn’t owe me any thanks. Her gratitude should be directed at you. You’re the one who rescued Philippa.’
‘We achieved that together, you and I.’
‘But I wouldn’t have been involved at all if not for you.’ She glanced up at him, smiling faintly. ‘From the beginning you’ve put the safety of those two girls over everything. I know you think that it was a—a form of reparation, but you didn’t commit a crime, Cameron, simply by being born.’
‘So you stayed away in order to ensure that Louise had to heap every scrap of her gratitude on me, is that it?’
‘And did she?’
He laughed. ‘Almost, but not quite. She was almost effusive. I even got a hug—well, a light patting, which is the next best thing.’
‘Did she explain who you are to Philippa?’
‘She did.’ His expression became serious once more. ‘That is one very brave young lassie, Kirstin. She didn’t say much about what they’d been through, and insisted that they were never in fear of their lives, well-cared-for, all that, and Louise was happy to swallow it.’
‘You think Philippa is protecting her?’
‘Ironic, isn’t it? Philippa’s not one to blow her own trumpet, but I reckon she was a tower of strength to Jeannie.’
‘What will happen to her? Louise blamed her for what happened...’
‘I reckon she still does, though she dare not say it for fear of upsetting Philippa. In the short term, all Jeannie wants is to go home to her mammy in North Berwick.’
‘And what about Philippa’s engagement?’
‘That decision, believe it or not,’ Cameron said, ‘has been left in Philippa’s hands. She, clever girl, has chosen to take her time deciding.’
‘Goodness, but Louise has changed her tune.’
‘She’s had a lot of time to think, she told me.’
Kirstin raised a brow. ‘She seems to have told you quite a lot.’
‘Aye.’ Cameron smiled briefly down at her. ‘Whether it’s relief, gratitude, or whether this whole horrible experience has genuinely altered her view of life, she does seem to have warmed to me.’
‘Cameron!’ Kirstin stopped in her tracks, beaming up at him. ‘That is...’
‘Hold your horses. She’s not ready to call me brother yet, not by a long chalk. Though Philippa is already calling me Uncle Cameron. Which, let me tell you, sounds mighty strange.’
‘I think that where Philippa leads, Louise will follow. I’m so pleased for you.’
‘We’ll see.’
They turned at the dog leg of the Serpentine and began to head back on the other side of the lake.
‘Do you think the members of the Erotes Club will come after us, after yesterday?’ Cameron asked.
‘I doubt it. I’m not naïve enough to think they’ll abandon their activities, but at least we’ve forced them to cancel their next meeting. Considering all you have achieved, you don’t seem particularly happy.’
‘For someone who has played a pivotal role, I could level the same accusation at you. I owe you a huge debt of gratitude in addition to a large fee.’
‘I don’t want your money, Cameron.’
‘Don’t be silly, Kirstin, you’ve earned it, and I signed a contract...’
‘I don’t want your money. I did this because—Oh, it doesn’t matter.’
‘It matters a lot.’ He stopped as they reached the gates of the park. ‘I’ve wondered from the beginning why you took my case on when The Procurer’s business is to find other people to make the impossible possible, not to do it herself. So why am I the exception?’
That look of his, the way his eyes bored into her very soul, made her want to flee. And why was she getting the impression that this was a plea, rather than a question? What did he want her to say?
‘I met you because I was curious. I took on the case because I was the best person for the role and time was pressing. I stayed because I desperately wanted to help find Philippa and Jeannie.’ All of which was the truth, but not even half of it.
And none of it, evidently, was what Cameron wanted to hear. ‘Is that it?’ he asked.
‘I knew how much finding them meant to you,’ Kirstin elaborated a little desperately, ‘and—and I—you deserve to be given a second chance. Your sister—I was sure that if only she could forget the past she would realise how fortunate she is to call you her brother.’
He smiled wryly. ‘So you did it for me?’
‘I—yes. I did it for you.’
She couldn’t tell if that satisfied him or not. He looked up at the sky, which was darkening, the sun now completely obscured behind thick cloud.
‘Looks to me like we might be in for snow. We should head back to the hotel.’
‘I sincerely hope it’s not snow, else your journey north—’
‘Oh, I’m not escorting Louise.’ He took her arm and began to walk quickly in the direction of the hotel. ‘I promised I’d visit as soon as was convenient, but now is not in the least convenient. I’ve business of my own to attend to.’
‘Ewan’s tea business?’
But Cameron, increasing his pace, seemed not to have heard her.
* * *
The evening gown Kirstin wore for her last dinner with Cameron had an underdress of scarlet satin paired with an overdress of sarcenet decorated with silk flowers in every shade of red, the leaves picked out in silver. The neckline was square, the sleeves simple caps, the hem weighted with a border of red and silver beading. It was an outrageously expensive and wildly extravagant gown, one she was unlikely ever to wear again, though the result was worth every penny.
Kirstin painted her lips with carmine, added a light dusting of powder to her nose, and adjusted the velvet ribbon in her hair. Crimson slippers and a new pair of long white evening gloves completed her toilette.
‘You look absolutely ravishing,’ Cameron said, bowing low over her hand.
‘Thank you.’
In a dark blue coat and waistcoat, with tightly fitting fawn pantaloons and a pair of gleaming Hessians, Cameron had dressed with care for this, their last night. Their last night. She mustn’t allow herself to think of it like that.
‘You look very dashing.’
‘Thank you. Sit down, Kirstin. I’ve asked them to delay serving dinner.’ Taking a bottle from a silver bucket, he began to twist the cork. ‘I thought we’d forgo our sherry. Tonight calls for a celebration, a toast.’
He seemed tense. Watching him pour the champagne into crystal flutes, Kirstin was becoming nervous.
He sat down beside her and touched his glass to hers. ‘To you,’ Cameron said. ‘Kirstin Blair, a woman who makes the impossible possible.’
‘Cheers,’ she said, immeasurably touched and also reassured. She took a sip of the golden li
quid, relishing the way the bubbles melted on her tongue, and sighed with pleasure. ‘This was a lovely idea.’
But Cameron’s smile was perfunctory. He set his glass down, untouched, and Kirstin had a horrible conviction that the night was not going to go to her plan. Her fingers tightened around the stem of her own glass. Cameron’s throat was working, a sure sign that he was having to steel himself to say something, and she was absolutely certain that, whatever it was, she didn’t want to hear it.
‘Cameron...’
‘Kirstin.’
The look in his eyes made her heart flutter, then pound. She sat frozen to the spot, allowing him to remove her glass and take her hands in his.
‘Kirstin, when I told you that I never dreamed of marriage, I meant it. But that was because I’d never met the right woman.’
‘No.’ She tried to pull her hands away, but he held her tightly.
‘Listen to me,’ he said urgently, ‘please hear me out.’
Feeling quite sick, she realised that if she did not, the break between them would never be final. Besides, it was every bit as vital to make the break clean for him too. And it would be a test, she thought grimly, of her own resolve, which she could use as a talisman against any future regrets.
‘Go on,’ she said.
‘Six years ago—’ He broke off, cleared his throat, released her to take a deep gulp of his champagne. ‘Six years ago,’ he began again, ‘I met the right woman. You.’ He smiled at her softly. ‘But the time wasn’t right for us. You were only just setting out to make a life for yourself, and I—well, I hadn’t a clue whether I was coming or going, after that meeting with Louise. So we went our separate ways. And we lived our own lives, the pair of us, and made a success of them.’
‘Exactly, Cameron, which is why—’
‘When the fates brought us back together this time,’ he interrupted, ‘we were ready. I didn’t know it that first night here, Kirstin, when I went on about my freedom to roam the world and my liking for having things all my own way, but I very quickly realised. You are the one I’ve been waiting for. You are the only woman for me. I love you with all my heart.’
A Scandalous Winter Wedding Page 21