Rose In Scotland (11 page)

Mr. Campton’s thin face turned even redder. “She thought that as you have no mother, there might be matters of a … er … delicate nature you may wish to discuss with another lady,” he said, looking as if he might swoon at any moment. “Questions or worries which may be plaguing your mind. She has offered to counsel you, should you have need of it.”

Understanding dawned in a blaze of light, and it was all Caroline could do to keep from bursting into laughter. Only the knowledge that poor Mr. Campton would doubtlessly expire from embarrassment kept her from doing just that, and she managed to dredge up a polite smile on his behalf.

“You may thank Mrs. Brown for her kind offer, Mr. Campton,” she said in a strained voice. “It is very good of her to consider my … er … sensibilities, but my governess believed in a thorough
education. I have neither questions nor worries about anything, I assure you.”

Mr. Campton’s thin shoulders sagged with relief. “Very good, my lady,” he said, offering her a formal bow. “And pray accept the best wishes from the staff and myself. Sergeant MacColme strikes me as a most worthy gentleman, and I know this marriage will make His Grace very happy.”

“Thank you, Mr. Campton,” she murmured, glad this farce of a marriage was pleasing someone. The Lord knew she was less than pleased with the prospect, and if there was the slightest bit of truth to the tales of his inebriated state, neither was Mr. MacColme. Still, she didn’t see that they had any choice. They might neither be the other’s dream intended, but they were stuck with each other. For just a year, though, she reminded herself, turning back toward the door. At the end of it, she would be free.
Free
. She savored the word, drawing strength from the promise of it, and then stepped forward, motioning the footman to open the door.

To her surprise there were at least half a dozen people waiting for her in the sunlit drawing room. She saw her grandfather first, impressive in his regimentals, and then her gaze settled on the tall, russet-haired man waiting beside him. He was also in his uniform, and the sight of him made the breath catch in her throat. Gazing at his broad shoulders and muscular chest, shown to their best advantage by the cut of his scarlet coat, she could see why the unknown Lucy should have grown weak at the sight of him. He
was without doubt one of the most handsome men she had ever seen.

“My dear.” Her grandfather stepped forward to meet her, his blue eyes shining with happiness as he carried her hand to his lips. “How beautiful you look. Your father and mother would be so proud if they could see you.”

“Thank you, Grandfather,” she said, a painful lump lodging in her throat. Her parents had married for love, and she knew it had been their hope she would follow in their footsteps. That she was not made her feel as if she was betraying them on some fundamental level, and for a harrowing moment tears threatened. She blinked them back, and gave her grandfather a bright smile.

“How dashing you look,” she said with a light laugh. “I hope you don’t go about in your regimentals very often, else there won’t be a feminine heart safe in the whole of Bath.”

He preened at her words. “Oh, I much doubt the ladies would pay an old warhorse like me any mind,” he chuckled, guiding her to where Mr. MacColme was standing. “Not with so many handsome soldiers littering the Pump Room and assemblies. And speaking of handsome soldiers …” He took her hand and placed it in Mr. MacColme’s. “Your groom, my lady.”

“Lady Caroline.” His gaze held hers, his gloved fingers warm as they closed around her own. “Are you ready?”

She gave a jerky nod, a sudden burst of sheer terror rendering her speechless. Now that the actual moment had arrived, her courage wavered, and she wanted nothing more than to pick up
her skirts and run screaming from the room. Her muscles tensed in readiness, but before she could give in to the panic clawing at her, Hugh did the most extraordinary thing. He smiled at her.

“There’s no need to break rank and flee,” he murmured, his deep voice reassuring. “It will be all right. Everything will work out in the end; you’ll see.”

Would it? Caroline didn’t see how such a thing could be possible, but she let herself be persuaded. If he could be so calm, she told herself, then so could she.

The ceremony was brief, and she kept her attention firmly fixed on the minister; her voice was cool and steady when she repeated her lines. Finally the blessing was given, and she turned to the man who was now legally her husband.

His expression was surprisingly solemn, his green eyes full of shadows as he gazed down into her face. Standing so close, she could feel the warmth emanating from his strong body, and catch the faintest whiff of the spicy cologne he favored. It made her remember the servants’ gossip, and she breathed a sigh of relief it had been so wrong. His face might be strained and his eyes the slightest bit bloodshot, but Mr. MacColme—Hugh, she corrected herself—was far from bosky.

He moved closer, his gaze steady as he cupped her face in his hands. “You are a MacColme now, Caroline,” he said, using her given name for the first time. “Mind you remember that.”

She was puzzling over his meaning when he bent his head and gave her a kiss that was all that was proper, and all that was not. His lips
were firm and warm, and she felt the teasing flicker of his tongue before he drew back to smile down at her.

“Come,
annsachd,”
he said, tucking her arm beneath his and turning her toward the others. “Our friends await.”

The next several minutes passed in a blur as Caroline found herself meeting the strangers who had been invited to witness the wedding. The men were all in uniforms similar to those worn by Hugh and her grandfather, and she assumed them to be members of the same regiment. Her theory was proven correct a few minutes later when a heavyset woman with a huge bonnet stuck on her head came striding forward to meet her.

“I am Mrs. Margate,” she said, grabbing Caroline’s hand and pumping it up and down much as a man would do. “The sergeant here was a member of my husband’s regiment, and if there is anything you wish to know you have but to ask me. I know all your secrets, eh, Sergeant?” And she jabbed her elbow in Hugh’s stomach in a blow that would have felled a lesser man.

“More than I dare consider, Mrs. Margate,” he said, giving the woman a wink. “But as I know a few of yours as well, I am confident I can trust your discretion.”

She threw back her head and let out a loud bark of laughter. “If you’re counting on discretion from a soldier’s wife, my lad, you’re the biggest dolt to ever draw breath. But you were ever a gentleman, I must say.”

The others soon ventured forward to offer their felicitations, and as she accepted them, Caroline
couldn’t help but note the regard with which her husband was treated by the other men. They all held the highest of ranks, yet their attitude toward Hugh was as equal toward equal. Given what she’d heard of the strict distance normally kept between officers and enlisted men she was more than a bit surprised, and it made her wonder about the nature of the man she had just married.

“I hope you don’t mind my inviting Colonel Margate and the others,” her grandfather said, pausing beside her to give her a smile. “But they’re as devoted to Sergeant MacColme as I am, and they’d have been most hurt not to be invited to his wedding.”

“It’s fine, Grandfather,” she assured him, watching as a man wearing the braid of a major laughed and clapped Hugh on the back. “And their presence will give credence to the tale that ours is a marriage arranged by you.”

“Eh?” He looked momentarily baffled and then gave a quick nod. “Oh, yes, there is that, although I hadn’t considered it in quite that light. But it’s a brilliant piece of strategy, now that I think of it. Once it is known this match has my approval, Charles will be hard-pressed to make mischief.”

The mention of her uncle killed the fragile peace Caroline had found. Amazing as it was, she hadn’t given Uncle Charles or his foul threats a single thought all morning. She’d been too busy brooding over her wedding and her enigmatic groom to consider anything else, but now she could not help but worry. She knew her uncle well enough to know he’d be furious at
having been thwarted, and there was no saying how he might respond. She was considering several unpleasant possibilities when she became aware her grandfather was talking.

“… in two days’ time,” he concluded, studying her carefully. “It will be better that way, as I am sure you will agree.”

Too embarrassed to admit she hadn’t been attending, Caroline merely nodded. “Yes, Grandfather, whatever you say,” she said, wondering what she’d just agreed to. Campton had come in, signaling her with a raised eyebrow that it was time to go into the dining room for the wedding breakfast her grandfather had arranged. She turned to see if she could find Hugh, when she felt his hand slide around her upper arm.

“Come, my dear,” he drawled, his voice smoothly polite. “It is time to lead our guests into breakfast.”

Her heart gave a jolt as much at his proprietary manner as at the ease with which he used the casual endearment. Listening to him speak, one would think they had been married several years instead of a matter of minutes, she thought, and was instantly furious, both with him and with herself. She knew her response to be childish, and the realization only added to her irritation. Well, she decided, her spine stiffening with pride, if he could conduct himself with such cool aplomb, then she was hanged if she would behave any other way. Aware of the interested glances being cast their way, she gave him her most dazzling smile.

“Very well, darling,” she purred, gloating at
the way his eyes widened in surprise. “If that is what you wish.”

He said nothing, but she thought she detected an answering smile playing about his mouth as he turned her toward the door.

The first hint something was amiss came after the lengthy breakfast. Caroline had gone upstairs to change into her traveling clothes, and as she walked outside she came upon her grandfather bidding Hugh what looked like a fond adieu.

“The staff should be expecting you,” he said, handing Hugh a letter with the Hawkeshill crest stamped on it. “But if there should be any problem, you are to give this to the butler—Begley, I believe he is called. It will explain everything.”

“Very well, General,” Hugh answered, tucking the letter inside his surtout. “Will there be anything else?”

Before he could answer, Caroline came hurrying down the last few steps. “What is going on here?” she demanded, her gaze going first from Hugh’s face to her grandfather’s. “Will you not be journeying with us to London?”

“I knew you weren’t listening,” he chuckled, giving her chin a gentle pinch. “The nervous bride, eh?”

Because it was so close to the truth, she scowled. “I am not nervous,” she denied indignantly. “I’d forgotten, that’s all.”

“Mmm,” her grandfather responded, his eyes twinkling with laughter. “Well, as I explained, it will look better if the two of you make your bridal journey without me tagging along. I will travel up after you.”

“Oh.” Caroline considered the matter and decided he was right. Still, that didn’t make the thought of spending the next several days alone in Hugh’s company any more palatable, and she swallowed uncomfortably.

Taking her silence for assent, her grandfather turned back to Hugh. “Will you be calling on Lord Farringdale tomorrow?”

“And Sir Anthony Covington,” Hugh replied, nodding. “Colonel Margate gave me a letter for him, and said he was certain we could count upon his cooperation.”

“As he is Mrs. Margate’s cousin, I daresay we can,” her grandfather agreed wryly. “He is also a solicitor, and clever as a monkey, I am told. He will know what to do.”

Caroline was about to demand an explanation when her grandfather handed Hugh another letter, this one sealed. “For my banker,” he said, his gaze stem as it met Hugh’s. “Mind you give it to him.”

Caroline could sense Hugh’s reluctance as his fingers closed around the paper. “General, I do not think—”

“I believe we have already had this discussion,” her grandfather interrupted, his voice cool. “And I believe it was agreed then how such matters would be handled. Consider it an order, Sergeant,” he added, a smile softening his stem features. Hugh hesitated a moment longer, and then took the letter and put it in his pocket. “Very well, sir,” he said brusquely. “I will report once we have settled.”

“Mind that you do,” her grandfather said, and turned to give Caroline a gentle smile. “Godspeed
on your journey, my dear,” he said, placing a kiss on her cheek. “And do not look so downcast. Your grandpapa shall see to all, I promise you.”

Caroline was embarrassed to find herself fighting tears. She had only just found her grandfather, and it felt as if she was already losing him. She rose on tiptoe to throw her arms about his neck. “Good-bye, Grandfather,” she said, giving him an impulsive hug. “I love you.”

He gingerly returned the embrace before setting her aside. “Here now, what’s this?” he demanded, frowning down at her in mock sternness. “I shall be seeing you in but a few days, you know. No need to get all teary-eyed.”

“I’m not,” she denied, half-laughing as she swiped at her damp cheeks. “It’s just the wind making my eyes water.”

Although there wasn’t so much as a breeze stirring the feathers on her bonnet, neither man mentioned the fact, and she was grateful for their forbearance. The time to leave was upon them, and for a brief moment the feminine panic she’d been holding at bay threatened to slip the reins. A tremble she couldn’t contain shook her, and her grandfather gave her an alarmed look.

“Poor dear, you are cold!” he exclaimed, laying a worried hand on her arm. “Sergeant MacColme, get my granddaughter out of this wind before she catches her death!”

A hard arm stole about her waist, and she was drawn back against the solid wall of his chest. “I’ll do that, General,” he said, his arm tightening possessively about her. “We’ll see you in
London.” And with that he bundled her into the waiting carriage, ignoring her feeble protests.

Thank God that was done. Hugh collapsed against the leather squabs, his eyes closing wearily. Except for the terrifying moments just before a battle, he’d never known time to drag by so slowly. This had been one of the longest mornings of his life, and the knowledge that it was far from over was all that kept him from giving in to the exhaustion tugging at him. There was still one final duty to be performed, and with that thought firmly in mind, he opened his eyes to study the woman sitting opposite him.