The Scottish Lord’s Secret Bride (9 page)

A child.
That had not crossed his mind. He’d taken all the precautions he was able. Stupid not to think it could have been a possibility. Would things have changed if they
had
become parents? Probably not for him; he’d have been well on his journey before Morven found out. For her though… It was a worrying thought. Luckily they were now older and, he hoped, wiser.

‘I wish I could say or do something, love, with regards to then, but I can’t. I was an idiot, and I did come to my senses fast. However, I was foiled. It will be interesting to see who was the instigator of withholding those letters.’

‘My mama. I was just eighteen, Papa was ill, Brody had left and she was alone with young children,’ Morven said with certainty. ‘She must have decided one child abroad was enough. It is no excuse, but I think probably for her it was reason enough.’

One of the horses shied at an unseen, and probably imagined danger and Fraser held it in check. ‘All I can do is help to sort out our future.’

‘It’s over,’ Morven said in a small voice. ‘I can’t see anything changing, except we have grown up. Time to move on. But not with my sister.’

Fraser turned off the track onto the main road to Stirling. ‘Definitely not. I told you I made that very clear to my mama. Why she got that bee in her bonnet goodness only knows. Parents apart, what else did you say to your sister?’

Morven sighed. ‘Not the truth anyway. As I said, I told her we’d been close, but you being sent away had scuppered any chance we might have used to discover if our friendship could go deeper. Which was true. I just chose not to mention how, well you know…’ Her voice trailed off.

‘And she accepted that?’ Fraser asked. ‘Good grief she has no nosiness if she took what you said at face value. It seems she has none of the curiosity of her sister.’

‘That is debatable. To both of your assumptions. What she did say was that she was happy to run interference, as long as it didn’t end up in her betrothal to you.’

Fraser laughed out loud. ‘I’m old enough to avoid that trap. Let her do what she can, and we will do the same.’ He pointed ahead of them to where the outline of the castle showed starkly on the horizon. ‘Not too long now. That sight sends shivers down my spine every time I see it. Now they have found the honours of Scotland hidden in Edinburgh castle it makes me wonder what is tucked away in Stirling for our ancestors to find. After all a football said to belong to Mary Queen of Scots was discovered in a wall.’

‘In a wall?’ Morven sniggered. ‘Oh my, Roman coins or William Wallace’s spare sword perhaps? Romantic things. I read about the crown, sword and sceptre being found in Edinburgh,’ she added. ‘What else could be hidden in Stirling?’

Fraser rolled his eyes. ‘Not a lot. It’s now used as a barracks, so probably a drunken soldier or a mouldering pie. I’d hazard a guess anything of value is long gone. However, the thought of it took our mind off the reason for our journey for a while.’

‘You…’ Morven spluttered and chuckled as they approached the outskirts of the town and Castle Crag loomed over them. ‘Yes I will agree, it diverted my mind. Now, though, I’m fully concentrated. What do we say or do?’

That was the tricky part. Fraser braced himself as he formulated his answer and waited for her no doubt volatile response. ‘I’m afraid in this case it is not we but me,’ Fraser said ungrammatically. ‘No don’t fly up into the boughs; hear me out. The cleric in charge of the presbytery—the overlord of the kirk in this area if you like—is one of the old school. Sadly it would diminish me as a laird and a man if I let you speak on our, or anyone else’s behalf. Harsh, but true.’

With a skill inherent in him, Fraser navigated the curricle around a cart, three urchins and a road sweeper before Morven replied.

‘Do you mean,’ she said in a voice that would cut ice, ‘that as a woman I am a nonentity and still in these allegedly enlightened times do not count? I might as well be invisible?’

Fraser inwardly winced. Put like that it sounded terrible, albeit true. ‘This is Scotland,’ he pointed out. ‘Where old habits die hard.’

‘Stating the obvious will not alter the impact of your statement, my lord.’ The voice sent shivers down his spine. And his cock to hide behind his balls. They meanwhile were trying to disappear inside him, safe from danger.

Oh dear, they were back to titles again.

‘Morven…’ he began before she shut him up with a glare.

‘I have not finished yet,’ she said in that same cold voice. ‘What you are saying, in essence, is that I might as well stop behind at the castle.’

How to answer that?

‘Not at all,’ Fraser temporised. ‘If you had done, you would have missed spending time with me and also not seen the view on our journey.’ Fraser urged his horses up the hill. ‘Morven, I do not make the rules and whenever possible, when I do not agree with them, I will ignore and circumnavigate them. However, in this case, the last thing we want to do is put the man’s back up and fail to find out the information we need. I intend to say that I, as laird, am enquiring on behalf of one of my employees who needs to know if in the eyes of the church and the authorities he is wed or not. No need to mention us at all. If he asks why you are with me or who you are, then, I will merely say as a friend of the family you accompanied me to town to examine the very fine church. Which we will then proceed to do. If you remember to say, if asked why, you have heard it is a very fine church, with a dividing wall in it that interests you, all will be well.

‘A dividing wall?’

Fraser was cheered to note the snippy tone had gone to be replaced by interest. ‘Two ministers who did not agree with each other. I’m sure there will be a pamphlet to tell you more. Now with regards to our real reason for coming, anything else will be answered as needed.’ He pulled the horses to a halt outside the imposing building that was their destination and handed the reins over to a liveried groom. ‘Do you agree?’ he asked hastily as he jumped to the ground and helped Morven descend. ‘Have I forgotten anything?’

She brushed her skirts and shook them to settle in their correct pleats and flounces before she put her gloved hand on his proffered arm. ‘It sounds about right. I’ll follow your lead, grudgingly, and not speak until I’m spoken to.’ Her flat and unemotional tone indicated just how she felt about such actions. ‘But heaven help him if he makes a disparaging remark about women in general and their place in society. I might accidentally feel faint and fall onto his face with my nails, or the hard edge of my shoulder extended.’ She glanced up at him from under the brim of her far too fetching hat edged in lace and ribbon and winked. ‘Otherwise, I’ll behave.’

Thank the Lord for that. Or was that blasphemous on hallowed ground? Whatever, it was a heartfelt thought. ‘I appreciate your restraint, love.’ Fraser urged Morven forward before she changed her mind.
Although the one thing you do know is that she keeps her word.
Although there was always a first time for everything and he hoped to hell—
oh dear, blaspheming again—
no one antagonised her too much.

Fraser noted with interest that their arrival had been observed, for the overlarge wooden studded door wing swung open and a very proper butler, in a kilt of the local Graham tartan, bowed to them.

‘My lord?’

Fraser nodded, very much a laird. ‘We wish to see the cleric in charge of the presbytery. On a matter pertaining to one of my employees,’ he said very precisely. ‘Here is my card.’

The man grinned. ‘Ach, m’laird, I ken fine who ye are. I’m from up the glen from Kintrain. Andy Graham. I’m helping oot whilst ma da is ill. I’ll be telling him you’re here. Come awa’ in and wait oot o’ the cold.’ He ushered them into a pleasant room with a view of the castle from its windows. ‘It’s a bitty chilly the day. I’ll be finding you a wee dram while you wait. I’m thinking it might be an awfy while afore yee’s seen.’

‘I bet he gets hell…or whatever for speaking like that to visitors,’ Fraser muttered out of the corner of his mouth once they had a dram each and a plate of shortbread on the table between them. ‘It must be hard for those who aren’t from around here to understand two words in ten.’

‘Ach, dinnae be thrawn,’ Morven said with a creditable attempt at the man’s accent, then bit back a grin. ‘It’s easy…’ She chuckled. ‘No it isn’t, I’m sure I only got the gist of what he said. Any more and I would have needed you to translate.’ She looked up at the mantel clock. ‘We’ve been here over an hour. Is it a conspiracy to make you humble?’

‘Or give us time to appreciate where we are? I have no idea. I’ve heard that the minister in charge here is a good man, but a stickler for all things proper.’

‘So you said, ah…’ Morven broke off and pinched his wrist. A tall dark-haired man with a severe expression approached them.

‘And what can I do for you, my lord?’ The tone was not exactly welcoming. The man’s grim countenance matched the tenor of his voice exactly. ‘Out of your area are you not?’

Fraser groaned. Of all the men it could be it had to be Struan Davie, one of the few people who held Fraser in contempt for going abroad. Davie was old school, and thought a laird needed to stop on his major lands whatever the needs elsewhere. Which was probably why his estate had not flourished as well as Fraser’s had. Fraser had no compunction in asking for help when needed, or being a hands-on employer. He doubted Davie knew one end of a hay rake from the other.

Why Davie was now working for the presbytery Fraser had no idea, but he was not who they needed to see. Nor was Fraser prepared to give him any information about their business. The man had never been known for his discretion, and he doubted he’d changed over the years.

‘Not at all, Davie, just looking after the needs of my people.’ The other man flushed. It seemed he’d forgotten just what Fraser’s title and role in the area was.

‘Your pardon, my lord,’ Struan Davie said stiffly. ‘I’ll take you to the office now. Both of you?’

Fraser nodded. ‘Both of us.’ His tone held a note of finality that no one would be stupid enough to ignore. Luckily, he thought, Davie heard it and paid heed.

‘This way then.’ Davie turned on his heels and stalked back the way he came. Fraser looked at Morven.

‘Shall we?’

Morven shot him a concerned look and nodded. Fraser did his best to convey reassurance, even though he felt none of it. Maybe this was not going to be as easy as he thought?

It all went downhill from that moment. The cleric they wished to see was away on church duties and his relief was neither pleasant nor helpful. The relief cleric would, he asserted, need the names of those concerned to be able to advise them. The glint in his eye spoke more of inquisitiveness than a desire to help. Fraser had been courteous, and firm. No names could be given, until, he said, he had the permission of those concerned.

On that note they had left the man and had a happier hour examining the church of the Holy Rude, so Morven could see how it had been divided to allow opposing preachers to hold services at the same time. She told him she could have lingered longer in there, it was a beautiful, peaceful place, but Fraser had looked at the sky and said they ought to get on. They ate a brief meal in the nearby inn, and soon began to retrace their journey.

‘I thought the sun would stay out until late?’ Morven said as their curricle was brought round from the inn’s stables.

‘It is Scotland. It should in theory but…’ Fraser shrugged as he tipped the ostler.

‘But,’ Morven agreed and shivered.

****

Typically this day was different. A bank of clouds had unexpectedly appeared from the west, and blanked out the evening sun. No rays managed to dodge the grey folds. The distant mountains took on an air of menace and Morven decided she wouldn’t have been surprised to see William Wallace come riding hell for leather down their slopes, sword swinging. The thought wasn’t comforting.

‘Do you have highwaymen and such around here?’ The minute the words were out she could have kicked herself. How silly and childish was that?

Fraser’s lips twitched. ‘Not since Rob Roy.’ He helped her into the high seat of the curricle and found a plaid from somewhere, which he held out to her. ‘I have a pistol, so if a rogue sheep or “Highland coo” decides to attack I’ll protect you.’

‘Horrible man.’ Morven laughed reluctantly at her fears as she took the plaid and stared at it as if she had never seen such a thing before. ‘It’s this dark and depressing atmosphere. Very brooding. And cold.’

‘Brood no more, it’s safe around here, I promise you—and that should help to keep you warm.’ He wrapped the large piece of material over her head, tucked a sheepskin around her, and advised her to put her hands under the woolly warmth. She was nicely covered, somewhat like in a cocoon, she decided.

‘I intend to drive at a brisk pace, for I’m sure I can scent rain,’ Fraser said and once he ascertained she was settled and ready, he gathered up the reins. ‘It’s darker than I would have liked so I’ll need to concentrate on the road. If you’re agreeable we can talk later when we can both concentrate on the information we did or did not discover.’

Morven agreed with a nod, and shivered, thankful of his thoughtfulness in providing her with the sheepskin. It was a pity there wasn’t a hot brick to put her feet on, but at least they were snugly covered. ‘It sounds fine by me.’ The wind teased some of her hair out from under the plaid and she used one rug-covered hand to brush the strands off her cheeks and back into their confines. ‘Brr, and this is summer.’

Fraser chuckled. ‘It’s not raining yet.’

‘Yet.’

The air was chilly, the breeze strengthened with every mile westwards they drove, and at the spanking pace Fraser set up, Morven needed her wits about her to stay upright and not tip out. She slumped down into the seat, not an easy thing to do in a curricle, and hoped she wouldn’t need to take her hands out of her cocoon to hold on at the corners. Her kid gloves might be elegant, but they didn’t provide a lot of warmth. She looked at Fraser’s bare hands as he tooled the greys and felt cold on his behalf.

‘Are you not chilled without gloves?’