Into the Wilderness (134 page)

Nathaniel
stood suddenly, and walked out of the light into the shadows, where he stood
motionless.

"His
name is Dan'l Bonner, called Hawkeye by the Mahican people who raised him.
Longue Carabine by the French and the Huron. Those are the only names he has
ever had or needed. Why worry him with lands and titles at this point in his
life?"

Robbie
had been quiet for all of this, but he spoke up, finally. "Because if he
doesna find Laird Carrick's richtfu' heir, the title and the lands will revert
to the English crown."

"And
you're still enough of a Scot, after all these years here, to care?"

"Aye,
and mair than that, laddie. There's muny a Scot who wad travel tae hell and
dance withe deil tae keep what's left of the border counties oot o' English
hands."

"I
want to talk to my wife," Nathaniel said from the shadows. "Alone."

* * *

She
went to bed while Nathaniel showed the Scotsmen where they could sleep. For a
long while Elizabeth lay with her head pillowed on her arm, listening to the
murmur of his soft, low voice rising and falling in contrast to Robbie's. They
were talking in the workroom; Moncrieff had been given a pallet under the
sleeping loft.

In
near full dark
Elizabeth
lay listening to that soothing music, and tracing the arc of the moon as it
made ready to set. The confusion of thoughts in her head made it throb
slightly—she was prone to headaches since her fall—and so she tried not to
dwell on Angus Moncrieff and the incredible but increasingly obvious fact that
she had somehow managed to marry into a Scots earldom.

Aunt
Merriweather would choke to hear it told. Elizabeth, who had scorned the very
concept of a good match, had made the best match of all: if Moncrieff was
right, Nathaniel would one day be the Earl of Carrick. It was almost enough to
make her laugh out loud, the idea of it, but then
Elizabeth
remembered the tension in his face
and the urge left her.

She
sat up and lit a candle to brush her hair, afraid that otherwise she would fall
asleep before he came in, and sleep uneasily for want of the rest of the news.

Nathaniel
came in, and sat behind her on the bed to take the brush from her hands. The
mattress crackled as he moved closer. With the steady movement of the brush
over and over again through the length of her hair, she arched her back in
pleasure.

"What
of Otter?" she asked finally, when it seemed that he would never talk.

Nathaniel's
voice at her ear, soft and close. "He got tangled up with the wrong woman.
My father went to set him straight on the path home."

"What
do you mean by 'wrong woman'?"

The
movement of the brush paused, and he leaned forward to kiss her cheek. "One
who doesn't want him."

"Ah.
Otter may be of a different opinion. Do you think Hawkeye will have any success
with a young man as strong—minded as he is?"

He
went back to his work, drawing the brush down and down. "Aye, well. So was
I at that age, and he managed to shift me out of
Montreal
, under pretty much the same
circumstances."

"The
same circumstances?"
Elizabeth
asked, all thought of Moncrieff and the Earl of Carrick suddenly eclipsed.

The
steady motion of the brush never faltered, but Nathaniel cleared his throat. "The
woman is not unknown to me. She collects backwoodsmen as a kind of hobby, I
guess you might say, in international relations. I was one of her first
trophies. This was before I knew Sarah," he added hastily.

A
vague sense of familiarity with this story washed over Elizabeth. "Her
name is not Giselle, by any chance?"

Nathaniel
jerked in surprise, so that he dropped the brush and had to retrieve it. "What
do you know of Giselle?" he asked, not quite managing to hide his surprise
or discomfort.

"Oh,
this and that," Elizabeth said, glad that her back was still to him and he
could not see her face, for she feared she could not hide her scowl. "Richard
apparently had a bit of an encounter with her this past summer, as well. Aunt
Merriweather mentioned it to me. To think of Richard and Otter at odds over the
same lady—it would explain Richard's long absence, in part. "But I would
have thought Otter far too young for her?"

"Then
you don't understand the kind of woman we're talking about," Nathaniel
said gruffly, taking up his brushing again. He worked in silence for a minute,
one hand on her shoulder to hold her still. She had the urge to rub her cheek
on his hand, but her bones were turning to liquid and she could do nothing but
sit there and let him have his way.

"It
explains Richard's sudden interest in Kitty," he said after some time. "After
Giselle, he's got a better appreciation of a worthwhile girl." Before she
could answer, he put his hand lightly over her mouth. "Never mind about
Giselle," he said. "I got something else to say to you."

His
whole posture changed.

"I'm
sorry, Boots," he said quietly. "If I had known Moncrieff's purpose,
I would never have let him in the door."

She
turned to him awkwardly, taken by surprise. "But why?" she asked.
"Nathaniel, I don't understand. Mr. Moncrieff's news is certainly a shock,
but why this hostility?"

There
was an unfamiliar uncertainty in his face, and worry. He leaned toward her and
put his forehead on her shoulder, and her arms came up around him.

"I
thought you would be angry," he said. "Back when you found out about
the gold, you asked me if I had told you about everything. And I said I
had."

She
stifled an uneasy laugh. "But you didn't know about this. You could not
have."

He
shook his head. "No, I didn't know."

"You
think that he is right, that James Scott was your grandfather."

He
nodded wordlessly, and then turned from her to slip out of bed. From the small
pile of things he kept on a shelf, he took a leather bag she had seen before,
but never thought to ask about. Out of it he took a bound volume to put into
her hands. A bible, well worn in bindings that crackled slightly when she
opened it. And there, on the flyleaf

James
Scott and Margaret Montgomerie

Bound
in Holy Matrimony on the sixteenth day of July, 1716."

"The
farm was burned in the raid," Nathaniel said. "The story goes, a
trapper called Bonner found my father sitting next to the body of a woman. She
was holding that bible when she was struck down."

After
a long while,
Elizabeth
said: "You did not show this to Mr. Moncrieff for a reason. Do you not
wish your father to claim the title and lands?"

"Christ,
Boots," he said, all of his exasperation and anxiety surfacing
again."Can you imagine my father an earl?"

"He
has a greater acuity of mind than many I have heard of."

Nathaniel
grasped her by the arms. She saw with some shock that he was on the edge of
tears, a place she had seen him only one other time.

"Do
you want him to sail off to
Scotland
?
You haven't had enough of leave—takings?"

Elizabeth
cursed herself for her shortsightedness, and put her hands on Nathaniel's face.
"He need not go to Scotland," she whispered. "Neither need
you."

He
pulled away with a harsh laugh. "Moncrieff came all the way here to talk
him into laying claim to the title, and he expects nothing in return? You heard
them, they want us to go fight the English for them. As if we didn't have
enough of fighting the damn English."

"There
will be no more war between England and Scotland," Elizabeth said. "The
country was razed so thoroughly after Culloden, Nathaniel, that there is no
chance of it. And the war with
France
takes precedence right now. If there are battles to be fought over Scottish
holdings, it would be in a court of law."

He
grunted. "I ain't so sure you're right. You saw Robbie's face tonight;
he'd pick up a musket and be on a ship tomorrow if he thought he could make a
difference in throwing the English out of
Scotland
. But even if you're right,
even if this is nothing more than a legal battle, it's one I want no part of
And neither should you."

Elizabeth
sat
quietly, thinking.

"You
want to go," he said finally, in amazement and unease.

"Oh,
no," she said, with a sharp shake of her head. "It is hard enough for
me to think of leaving
Lake
in the Clouds at
all.
Scotland
is not a temptation, Nathaniel."

He
relaxed suddenly. "That's good to hear."

"Which
part is good to hear?"

He
blinked at her, confused and a little wary.

"Nathaniel,"
she said softly. "I think all this time you have asked me to make the
decision about staying or going from here, and you have been struggling not to
tell me what you want."

"I
want you to be satisfied," he said, his breath stirring her hair.
"That's all that concerns me."

"And
you want to stay on Hidden Wolf," she said, pulling his face up to look
into his eyes. "Wherever we might go, you will always want to come back
home to
Lake
in the Clouds. This place is in
your blood. Please just say so."

"I
want to stay on Hidden Wolf," he parrotted obediently. "If you'll be
satisfied here."

"Nathaniel,"
she said, frowning.

He
slid his arm around her and drew her down to lie beside him. The expression in
his eyes stole her breath away.

"You
want me to speak my mind. So then listen, listen to me." He paused to pull
her closer.

"I'm
happy with you here, Boots. Sometimes when I'm coming up the trail and I see
the light in the window, I can't hardly move for fear that it's all been a
dream, having you here in this place with me. I'm scairt of being without you.
I never was easy to scare, even as a boy, but I've learned it now." His
hand moved to the bulk of her belly and rested there. "All I want is to
keep you safe, and to please you. So you'll stay with me. Tell me you'll stay
with me."

"Oh,
Nathaniel." She rubbed her cheek against his shoulder, held his face
between her hands. "I am not going anywhere unless I go with you. I
wouldn't be whole without you."

He
let out a small sound from the back of his throat, and she saw the muscles in
his cheek tremble. "You think you can be happy here, on the
mountain?"

"I
know I can," she said, and realized, suddenly, that it was the truth.

"Good,"
he said, the grip of his hands on her shoulders suddenly turning to a caress. "Good."

She
held his gaze. "This is our place, Nathaniel, and Hannah's, and it will be
our children's place. And I hope it will be your father's place, too. But first
he must hear what Moncrieff has to say. If Hawkeye decides he needs to go to
Scotland
, then
he will go. If he asks you to come along, and you decide to join him, then I
will be there, too. But he deserves to know about his family."

Nathaniel
pushed out his breath between his teeth. "I already told Moncrieff where
to look for him in Montreal. He'll be off in the morning."

"Ah,"
she said, smiling.

On
the table the candle sputtered, casting shadows over the ceiling. It was near
dawn, and snow had begun to fall. For a long moment they were quiet together,
listening to the muffled sounds of the waterfall. Elizabeth could have slept,
but she fought it, not wanting to be drawn away from him now, even in sleep.

"Our
first Christmas at
Lake
in the Clouds,"
she murmured. "But not the last."

His
head came up, damp eyes glistening in the dim light. He looked at her hard. "Are
you sure, Boots?"

"Yes,"
she said, lifting her face for his kiss. "There is nowhere else I want to
be."

Sometime
later he said, "You might be curious about that castle, in the end, or
Montreal
." A smile
twitched at the corner of his mouth. "You may change your mind."

"Not
about some things,"
Elizabeth
said, spreading a hand on his cheek. "Not about this, not about you. Not
the why or the wherefore, not the who."

"But
the where, maybe. Someday."

His
hands on her breasts, and a luxuriant stirring deep inside: the certainty of
this, of his love and his desire, his protection and the life they shared. Elizabeth
turned in his embrace and slid a leg over his hip, drew him closer. She let out
a sound of welcome, and they came together gently, small movements that still
drew from him a sigh of absolute surrender.