Love in the Highlands (14 page)

She gasped with the intensity of the sensations that possessed her more completely than anything she had known in her life.

Yet, although they thrilled her, they also scared her. It was not proper for a young lady to feel such physical delight, not unless she was sure of the man's love, and she was not.

"No," she said, snatching her hand away. "You must not."

"Why must I not?"

"Because it – it isn't right."

"Because you find my touch unpleasant?"

"You know that I do not," she said in a low voice.

"Then why is it not right? We are betrothed. If there is one man whose embraces you may accept, that man is myself. Indeed, I should take the greatest exception if I were to find you in the arms of any other man."

"But we are not really betrothed," she said. "You know that we are not."

He did not answer, and when she looked up she found him regarding her with a grave expression that contained no hint of his usual defensive irony.

"I wonder how all this will end," he said quietly.

Something in his tone made her heart beat faster. For a moment she could not speak. When she finally found her voice it was to say, with more firmness than she felt,

"It will end when that dreadful man gives up. Then I will thank you for your great kindness, and we shall part friends."

"Friends? Is that what we'll be?"

Again there was that strange vibrant note, warning her that everything he said had a double meaning.

"We shall certainly never be enemies," she said. "Not on my side. How could I ever be your enemy?"

"That was not what I meant, and you know it."

The tingling excitement going all through her told her what he had really meant. How could she ever feel merely friendship for a man who could make her feel like this, in her body and in her heart.

He was hinting at something deeper that flowed between them, yet he seemed reluctant to say it more plainly.

"Then I do not know what you mean," she said, turning her head away.

He reached for her quickly and pulled her round to face him, and for a moment she saw a fierce intensity in his face. His breath was coming feverishly and his eyes were bright.

"Lavina – " he said.

"Yes," she whispered. "Yes – "

At any moment, she was sure, he would tell her of his passion, perhaps of his love. And then all would be well between them. She would be free to acknowledge the intensity of her own feelings without shame.

If only he would speak!

But the silence stretched agonisingly on and on.

She knew what tormented him.

She was a woman, and therefore someone to be distrusted. Even if he loved her, he would still be suspicious of her, even, perhaps, hostile.

And what use was love if it could not overcome suspicion and hostility, if it were not even strong enough to allow him to speak plainly?

And then he let her go. He stepped back abruptly. No words had been spoken.

"You are right," he said harshly. "I mean nothing. Nothing at all."

He stepped back and gave her a small courteous bow.

"I beg your pardon for troubling you."

Next day there was a sensation. Throughout the district word spread like wildfire that Her Majesty was departing Balmoral.

"She's been there barely a week," Sir Ian said to Lord Ringwood. "She's never been known to go so soon before."

"Perhaps it's a false alarm," said the Earl, not daring to hope too soon.

"No, Her Majesty's carriage was seen journeying to Ballater Station. There was a man with her. He had a big, black moustache."

"The Prince," Lavina said. "He's gone. Oh Papa, I'm safe."

"For the moment," said the Marquis, who had been listening. "I don't think the Queen will give up that easily, but she seems to have realised that trying to bully you up here won't work."

That night there was a large dinner-party, given by Sir James McVein.

The whole family was wearing tartan, the men in kilts, the women in white silk with tartan sashes over one shoulder, fastened at the waist by diamond clips.

"Lord Elswick has sent you this, my dear," Lavina's father said, opening a small box to reveal a large diamond clip.

"There was no need for him to trouble himself, Papa," Lavina said coolly. "Dear Lady McEwuan had loaned me one of hers."

"But surely she would understand if you – "

"I would not be impolite to our hostess for anything in the world," Lavina said, setting her chin in a stubborn way that told her father it was useless for him to continue.

When everyone gathered downstairs she waited for the Marquis to make some comment, but after looking her over he merely said coolly,

"My compliments on your appearance, ma'am."

Lavina wished that she could explain that he had insulted her by coming to the edge of a declaration and then backing off; and that her snubbing of his gift was merely her way of saying that she was hurt that he could not trust her.

But since no such explanation was possible she was forced to keep her feelings to herself. She travelled the short distance to the McVein estate in disgruntled silence.

But it was impossible to remain disgruntled in the merry atmosphere she found when she got there. James had put himself out to entertain his neighbours.

The house was filled with light. The halls were hung with garlands of greenery and berries.

There were nearly a hundred guests, but the family from the castle were the guests of honour, and to James, it was clear, Lavina was the guest of honour.

Since he had invited her riding, and the Marquis had so effectively denied them privacy, he had made no open overtures to her, although he had usually been there at the dinners they had attended.

Now he came forward to greet her, hands outstretched, with a beaming smile.

"There's not a woman here who can hold a candle to you," he said.

"Hush!" she said, putting her finger to her lips and giving him a sparkling smile. "Remember your duty to the other ladies."

His reply was a wink.

"Good evening, McVein."

The Marquis held out his hand to his host, greeted him blandly, then devoted himself to his host's mother.

The dinner table was a masterpiece of flowers and exquisite china, lit by candles. Smiling, James led Lavina to a place beside him.

As they ate a piper walked round the table, playing merry tunes on the bagpipes. Yet Lavina could still manage to hear James' chatter, which consisted mainly of jokes.

They were good jokes and Lavina laughed often. Her host's blatant admiration was like balm to her wounded spirit, and she almost forgot to eat.

The food, however, was delicious, so was the wine. It was a long time since Lavina had enjoyed a party so much.

Then James rose to his feet, raising his full wine glass into the air, and the toast of
Slainte Mhath
could be heard round the room.

It was all great fun and when the ladies left the dining room, Lavina found herself hoping the men would not stay long.

In fact, they joined them twenty minutes later to usher them into the ballroom, where a pipe band was waiting to play.

Soon it became clear that Lavina was the belle of the ball. All the men wanted to dance with her, and pay her extravagant compliments.

She passed from partner to partner, hearing the praise of all, until at last she found herself waltzing with the Marquis.

"Are you sure you can spare me a dance?" he asked ironically.

She had to admit to herself that she had avoided him, because she did not wish to feel his arms about her in the waltz, but she was too proud to let him suspect that.

"You've had no shortage of partners," she told him coyly. "Don't expect me to pity you as a wall-flower."

"I do not, but, as I told you once before, I expect you to behave properly."

"And I do not believe I have offended against propriety," she teased. "This is a ball, sir, and even an engaged woman is permitted to flirt a little."

"Not if she is engaged to me," he said firmly.

"But I am not engaged to you," she whispered so that only he could hear.

His face darkened, and she was suddenly aware that this man hated any woman who even hinted at putting him second.

"No, you are not," he said bitingly. "Do you wish me to announce that fact in this company?"

"No," she said swiftly.

"Are you certain? Surely Sir James McVein would be only too glad to have me out of the way."

She could not believe that he was being so unreasonable as to indulge in this violent over-reaction.

Could he not see that she was only flirting with other men because her heart was sore that he had neglected her.

"I have no interest in Sir James," she said, now growing angry in her turn.

"You amaze me, madam, after the way you have lived in his pocket this evening."

"How dare you! I have not lived in his pocket."

"I say you have. I say also that if you make a fool of me again I shall walk out of this house and leave you to your own devices."

"You are behaving abominably."

"Do I have your word that you will respect my wishes?"

"You are being a tyrant – "

"Do I have your word, or do I walk off the floor?"

Lavina pulled herself free.

"Let me save you the trouble," she snapped, and walked away from him.

Unfortunately – or perhaps fortunately – the dance ended at that moment, so few people noticed her gesture, and the effect was lost.

After that she stayed with her father, ready to repel the Marquis if he should approach her.

But he did not approach her, and when they were ready to depart, Lady McEwuan said that Lord Elswick had made his apologies and gone home early.

Lord Elswick went out early next morning, so Lavina had no chance to make up with him. Her morning was one of pure misery, until a servant brought her a letter.

Eagerly she opened it. In a large, strong hand, it read,

Forgive me, and come to me quickly. There is so much
I want to say to you, that is only for your ears. Seek out the
cottage by the stream that runs through the wood. I’m waiting for you there. Hurry, my beloved.

Ivan.

"Ivan!" She said his name to herself. The Marquis had never asked her to call him by his given name, despite the fact that they were supposed to be engaged.

Yet now he asked her forgiveness, and used his name as a sign of intimacy. He had called her beloved, and chosen a remote spot where nobody would disturb them, because he longed to be alone with her.

Her heart overflowed with joy.

She sped up to her room to change hurriedly into riding clothes, then down again as fast as she could, then to the stables.

In minutes she was on her way, alone. Ivan would not expect her to take a groom this time.

In half an hour she had reached the wood and began to move through it. There was the stream and the cottage, just ahead. And there, just outside the cottage, was a single horse, tied to a tree.

She tied her own horse beside it and pushed open the door.

"Here I am!" she cried. "Here I am, my darling!"

The door slammed behind her.

She whirled round, smiling with the force of her joy.

Then her smile faded, and a look of revulsion took its place.

Standing there, leering at her, was Prince Stanislaus.

"You!" she cried with loathing. "What are you doing here?"

"I've hired this cottage. I thought it would make a good place for us to meet. So obliging of you to come in answer to my letter."

"Y
our
letter? But – "

She stopped. The hideous truth was becoming clear to her.

"Of course, my letter. How else could I have got you here?"

"You can't have written it," she said, her breath coming in little gasps. "It started, 'Forgive me.' You could never have known that we'd quarrelled."

Stanislaus gave his strange, silent laugh, and it chilled her blood.

"My dear lady, I had no idea that you and Elswick had quarrelled until you told me just now. But if there's one thing I've learned about women in many delightful years spent pursuing them, it is that every woman thinks her lover is in the wrong.

"He can be a saint, it makes no difference. She is always sulky and petulant about something. So a clever man asks her forgiveness as a matter of routine. He can rely on her to supply the details.

"And I was right, you see, because now you are here."

"And I am leaving immediately."

"I'm afraid you are not. Your presence is important to me."

Grasping her riding whip tightly, Lavina took a step forward, facing him and saying firmly,

"Get out of my way."

Stanislaus merely laughed.

"How splendid you are! How magnificent! What a Princess you will make."

"I will never be your Princess!"

"Oh but you will. You have no choice. I must have an English royal bride – "

"I am not royal – "

"The Queen has recognised you as part of her family. When we marry she will consider me a relative, and from that, many good things will flow.

"You see, it's not just protection against the Russians that I need. It's money. When I'm related to the British royal family, money will flow into my coffers."

"For the benefit of your people."

"But what benefits me, benefits my people. Naturally I am expected to maintain a splendid court. As my Princess you will be at the centre of luxury. You will enjoy it."

"You are out of your mind. Even if I married you – which I won't – how could I ever enjoy luxury paid for by stealing from your people? The idea is horrible?"

"Do you think so? I find it rather sensible? How else could I pay for my little pleasures. Your scruples won't last. When I shower you with diamonds, you'll forget to worry about who paid for them."

Lavina shuddered. His leering smile, his soft, lisping voice, was beginning to make her feel sick.

"Get out of my way," she repeated. "I want to leave."

"But you cannot leave. Here you are, and here you will stay."