The Marriage Contract (15 page)

Slowly she came to her feet, pointedly ignoring his hand. “How did you know I was there?”

“The scent of the soap. What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to know what was going on. Obviously it has nothing to do with a pregnant horse.”

“For what purpose?” There was a testy note in his voice.

Well, she could be testy, too. “My husband sneaks around in the dark. Is that not reason to want to know what he is doing?”

He took hold of her by the chin, raising her gaze to his. “And what did you find out?”

Anne tried to pull away. She couldn’t. “You know my history. I don’t like smuggling.”

Footsteps ran along the path. It was Davey. “Hugh said the gunpowder is covered with a tarp…” His voice trailed off as he realized Aidan was not alone.

Alarmed at what he’d said in front of her, he began backing up the cliff. “I’m sorry, Laird.”

“Go on, Davey. Go to your bed,” Aidan told him curtly.

The boy took off running.

Anne was stunned. “Major Lambert is right. You are planning a rebellion.”

“It’s not what you think.” He reached for her arm but she shook him off, backing away from him.

“You have stored gunpowder in the cliffs. In what? A cave? Are you mad? Do you realize what Major Lambert will do to you if it is discovered?
What he could do to all of us?
”

He grabbed her arm above the elbow, his hold tight. “Quiet, or you’ll wake all of Caithness.”

“I thought I saw all of Caithness on the beach helping you.” She shook her head. “How could you bring Davey into this?”

“I didn’t, Anne. He came with his brothers.”

She almost collapsed. “Does their mother know? It will kill her if any harm comes to her sons.”

“I know.” His voice didn’t sound like himself, full of confidence and certainty.

“Aidan, are you saying you question this course of action?”

“Yes!” The word shot out of him as if he’d held it too long. “But I have no choice, Anne, and I don’t expect you to understand.”

“Then explain it to me. What is so important that it would drive you to rebellion?”

He sat on the rock she’d hid behind. “I’ve tried to avoid it, Anne, but Deacon is right. You saw Lambert. He wants my blood whether I am innocent or guilty.”

“He could hang you guilty at this moment,” she said crisply.

It surprised a laugh out of him, a laugh she didn’t understand. “What is so funny?”

“I realized you are correct.” He stood. “You’ve heard of the Clearances, haven’t you?”

She shrugged. “No.”

“Well, some call them ‘improvements,’” he said sarcastically. “A landlord gives his tenants a week to clear out. Whether they do or they don’t, the homes are burned and the land is used for grazing.”

“Why?”

“It’s more valuable with sheep on it than it is with people.”

“Where do the people go?”

“Who cares? Or at least, that is the attitude. Some move in with family, others go to Ireland, and still others are forced to emigrate even further.”

She frowned at the sand, digesting what he’d told her. “I suppose if they are renting, then they should expect to be asked to move on?” It was hard to believe people would do such a thing to others.

“I forget how English you are,” he said softly. “Anne, people are being burned out because they are poor. But their families have lived on the land here since before the days of the first earl of Tiebauld.”

“And those are the ones who wish to rebel.”

“Yes, those who hate the English.”

The moon came out from the clouds. Its light tipped the waves. It was so beautiful here. It would be hard to imagine it all destroyed.

She looked to him. “Aidan, do the Clearances bother members of our clan?”

“No. So far I’ve been able to protect them. My money has buffered them from the likes of the ‘improvers.’ But Deacon’s family lost everything.”

“Then let him and his brother fight—if they are foolish enough. This is why he tried to get me to leave, isn’t it?” She didn’t wait for his answer, but went on, “They do not have to drag you into their fight. The stakes are too high!”

“Anne, it’s too late. For years I’ve tried to straddle two worlds. On one side are the other gentry, many of them more English than Scottish. On the other, my fellow clansmen. It is hard for you to understand the ties that bind us, ties that cut across social class. It’s the old ways. I can’t ignore them any
longer. But I’ve said I will help only with the gunpowder. This is the end of my role.”

“No, because they will continue to need you, just as the smuggler needed my father.”

“You don’t understand. I must do this.”

“I understand what will happen if you are tried for treason and found guilty.” She railed at his stubbornness. “Do you? Have you any idea what it will be like?”

His expression could have been set in stone as he said, “I’ve made my decision, Anne.”

“You will die!”

“Perhaps. But it is my choice.”

His words wrapped around her heart like a vise. She took a step back. His actions were treasonous. The Crown would hang him.

She doubled over, the burden of grief almost more than she could bear.

He reached out. “Anne?”

“No, don’t touch me!
I loved you.
” She recoiled from him. “But you are going to destroy yourself and everything here. The castle, the people, everything you’ve built. This isn’t a game, Aidan. Or a little ‘healthy danger’ like stalking a mad wildcat.” Tears stung her eyes. The words choked her as she said, “It’ll be gone…all…gone.”

“Not if I’m careful—”

She cut him off. “You can’t escape it. And I can’t watch it.” She turned and ran.

He called after her but she did not stop. She
couldn’t. She was in danger of crying and no good came of tears. He chose his fate. He chose to leave her.

Her foot slipped out of her kid shoe. She picked it up and kept running, heedless of stones on the path. She couldn’t feel them.

She couldn’t feel anything right now.

At the top of the cliff, Anne bypassed the house and ran for the stables. There, all was peaceful and quiet. It smelled of straw and hay. Familiar scents, comforting scents. The horses were asleep. Not even the dogs who had chosen the stables for their bed seemed surprised at her appearance. The animals didn’t know what the future held. They had no fears, no worries.

Finding an empty stall, she closed herself in, went to the furthest corner, and slid down the wall. Then and only then, when she was alone and need not fear being heard, did she release the huge hiccupping sobs of her grief, letting them overcome her.

The smallest dog, York, scratched at the stall, whining to come comfort her. But she couldn’t let him in.

She couldn’t let anyone in, not anymore. It hurt too much.

Helplessly, Aidan watched Anne run. She’d need time to understand. If she loved him, she must accept the man he was.

Love.

The word shimmered in his mind. He etched it in the sand with his toe, but the “L” turned into an “A” and he wrote the letters of her name instead.

She had to understand.

He walked up the path, words forming in his mind to convince her. And if they didn’t work, he’d kiss her into submission. His pace picked up. Yes, that was what he would do.

But inside, he didn’t find Anne in his room. “So, we’re back to that,” he muttered, and strode to the guest room door.

He pounded hard on it three times, and then shoved it open. She wasn’t there.

Aidan returned to his room. He told himself he should let her be, and yet he couldn’t. The sable throw still carried the imprint of her body. Her pins were on his wash stand.

Her very presence was woven into the fabric of his life.

A sound in the hallway made him race to the door. He threw it open and there was Anne. She was about to enter her room. Her dress was streaked with dirt and mud. She carried her shoes.

“Anne!”

She paused, a hand on the door handle. For a long moment they stared at each other, and he could almost imagine he was looking into the eyes of a stranger.

The expression on her face was strained, her complexion pale. His poor Anne.

He held out his hand. “Come, let us talk.”

She went in her room, shutting the door firmly behind her.

Frustrated, Aidan closed his own door. He’d let her sleep on it. In the morning, she’d see sense—even if he had to shake it into her.

Unfortunately, sleep was a long time in coming.

When he did wake, the day was more advanced than it usually was when he woke. Swearing softly, he started to dress and then stopped. Someone knocking on the door was what woke him.

“Who is it?” he barked, pulling on his breeches.

“Cora, my lord.”

He cracked open the door. “What is it?”

The maid appeared nervous. “Lady Tiebauld insists upon leaving.”

“Leaving for where?”

“
London,
my lord,” she answered with exasperation. “Deacon said you would want to know.”

Aidan opened the door wide. “Don’t let her leave.”

“We won’t. But when everyone refused to do as she asked without permission from you, she marched off to the stables saying she would saddle her own horse.”

She spoke to the air. Aidan was already getting dressed. He threw on his shirt, not even bothering to tuck it in, and shoved his feet into his boots.

He charged toward the stables.

Hugh, Deacon, and
Mrs. MacEwan waited for Aidan in the great hall. Even Norval worriedly paced a line from the dais to the staircase and back.

“It’s about time you woke,” Hugh snapped.

Aidan frowned at Deacon. “What are you doing here?”

His friend held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “I was attempting to talk sense into your wife.”

Since when had Anne and Deacon become chums? “Get back into hiding. I’ll take care of my wife.”

Mrs. MacEwan rubbed her hands anxiously. “You will stop her, won’t you, laird? She is so insistent. I told her she couldn’t go riding off alone but she says she doesn’t need an escort.”

“She’s being stubborn,” Aidan answered.

“Aye, she is, but I wouldn’t tell her that to her face,” Mrs. MacEwan agreed, and then lowered her voice to add, “Not if you want her back.”

Aidan didn’t waste any more time on conversation—especially if they were going to become lectures! He stormed out the front door. Norval stepped back just in time or else he would have bowled him over.

Out in the courtyard, Kathleen Keith, Bonnie Mowat, the other women, the children, and even some of the men stood waiting. He frowned at having Anne’s tiff aired in such a public forum. “Don’t any of you have something to do with your time this morning?”

Mrs. Keith raised her chin and scowled right back at him. “We’ve been waiting for you to get your arse out of the bed and come stop her…my lord,” she added with belated respectfulness.

Aidan gave her a glare that sent her scurrying behind Mrs. Mowat.

“You will stop her?” Davey said, trotting alongside Aidan.

“I intend to.” He headed for the stables.

The others fell in behind him, following as closely as they dared. Aidan knew they were there—and he also knew he couldn’t prevent them from nosing into his business.

Not without making the matter worse!

His long legs ate up the path leading to the stables. He stopped in front of the double doors. Davey’s friend Jamie dashed forward, the dogs trailing at his heels.

“I kept a watch on her like Davey told me to,
Laird,” Jamie reported. He confided, “She doesn’t know much about horses. If she leaves, she won’t go far.”

“Good lad. Now, run along with the others and let me talk to my wife.”

“She doesn’t want to talk to anyone,” Jamie informed him officiously.

“She’ll talk to me.”

“To burn your ears off,” the boy muttered, moving to join Davey, who stood on a stone wall.

Aidan took a step toward the door. The dogs went along with him. He stopped. “You stay here, too, laddies.”

Was it his imagination or did they actually act chastened? However as he approached the doorway, York pranced right past him and up to Anne, who stood in a patch of sunlight, her back to Aidan. She was having a devil of a time saddling an antsy roan mare, Hugh’s hunting sack, presumably holding her worldly possessions, at her feet.

She still wore her blue dress. What with her straw leghorn bonnet and jaunty yellow shawl, she was sure to be a sight riding on the road. Aidan doubted if she would make it to Wick, let alone London.

The pup pushed against her legs, and when that didn’t gain her attention, he barked. Ignored again, he sat and looked helplessly to Aidan for assistance.

The problem was, Aidan didn’t know what to do.

So he spoke honestly. “No one wants you to leave, Anne. Not even York.”

She stiffened at the sound of his voice, and for a moment he thought she’d ignore him, too. Then, “He’s a pest.”

“Pest. It might be a good name for him. We could change it.”

Her hands stopped moving. She squeezed the cinch strap she’d been buckling tightly. But she did not answer him.

Behind him, the good citizens of Kelwin had edged closer, the better to hear their conversation. All too aware of them, Aidan crossed over and shut the barn door.

Putting the bar in place, he said, “They’ll probably peek through the windows anyway.”

Anne had not moved, but at his words a sound escaped her that sounded half-laugh, half-sob.

He walked to her. He would have taken her in his arms, yet something about the set of her shoulders warned him to go slowly.

“I don’t want you to leave, Anne.” There, he’d said it. He meant it.

“I can’t stay.” She righted herself and gave the cinch one last tug to ensure it was tight enough.

Her insistence made him angry. “Well then, you’d best put a bridle on the horse,” he said brittlely.

“Yes, I mean to do that.” She moved to fetch one from the saddle room.

Aidan moved between her and the horse, his
hands on his hips. “Hugh may not want you to ride off with his hunting sack. He’d only lent it to you temporarily.”

She came out of the saddle room and for the first time met his gaze. He was surprised how hard her eyes were. They seemed to look right through him. “I’ll send it back. Here, you can take this now.” She pulled her wedding ring off her finger and offered it to him.

He refused to take it. “Don’t expect my sister to help,” he said harshly. “She wanted a baby from this marriage.”

“I don’t want her money or yours. Some things cannot be bought.” She closed her hand over the ring and tucked it into Hugh’s hunting sack.

“Then what will you do?”

“Take a position as a lady’s companion. I believe it will suit my temperament.”

He almost laughed. “Not hardly. You are a stubborn and proud woman, Anne Black.”

“Burnett,”
she corrected. “My name is Anne Burnett. I’ll have the marriage annulled in London.”

She started past him to the head of the horse, but Aidan reached out and turned her around so her back was against the roan’s body. He held her trapped with his arms, his hands on the saddle. The horse shifted restlessly.

“You can’t leave me, Anne. Not now.”

“I must.”
The urgent words sounded hoarse, as if she had to force them past her lips.

He tried to make her understand. “You’ve interrupted all our lives. You are one of us now. We can’t let you go.”

“We?” she asked sadly.

“Me, Anne. I don’t want you to go.”

Her lower lip trembled, but she steadied herself. Her hand came up to rub the side of his face. “You haven’t shaved yet.”

“I rolled out of bed, heard the news you were leaving, and came here.”

Her fingers traced the path of his jaw to the curl in the hair around his collar. “And you need a haircut,” she said softly.

“Is this why you are leaving me? My grooming habits? My hair?” He released her and went to the saddle room, where he kept a box of tools. He took out a pair of shears. “Here, Anne,” he said, offering them to her. “Cut it. It means nothing to me.” He added quietly, “Nothing means more than you.” The moment he said them, he realized the words were true.

She drew in a shaky breath. He pressed on. “You’ve bullied your way into my life. You can’t leave.”

Her gaze dropped to the shears and then to the floor. She shook her head. “I can’t stay. I can’t watch what will happen.”

“You can see the future?”

“I don’t need to be a seer. I know what will hap
pen. You are defying the
English government
! All of this, everything, will be destroyed.”

“Not if I can help it. It is only the gunpowder. After it is delivered, I will not be involved.”

She stared at him as if he’d spoken gibberish. “You cannot turn your back on your friends. Deacon’s presence alone is enough to have you tried for treason. Aidan, you are involved. You’ve made your decision.”

He took a step back, the reality of his actions sinking in. He closed his eyes, wishing it could be another way and knowing he had no choice. “You’re right,” he said, breaking the silence. “I have sided with the rebels. There is no turning back.” He reached out rubbed the roan’s muzzle. “It must be in my blood.”

“No, a love of fairness is in your blood, Aidan. A belief in letting men live with respect for each other. You are the most revolutionary man I’ve ever met…and one of the most successful. I love you. I will always love you. I could love no other.”

It was on the tip of his tongue to ask her to stay again, but he knew she wouldn’t. “And I shall always love you, Anne…Burnett,” he added sadly.

She nodded, studying the floor. Aidan understood how she felt. For the first time, he had discovered his heart…and now, it was breaking.

“Well,” he said, more to end the silence. “I, uh, don’t think you should ride alone to London. Give
me a few hours and I will have a hired chaise here.” It was hard to look at her. He ran his thumb over the curved handle of the shears. “You can give Hugh back his hunting sack. You can have the trunk in your room.”

“Thank you.”

There, it was resolved. But neither of them moved. So close to each other, and yet so far apart.

Someone pounded on the stable door. Aidan was about to wish them to the devil when Hugh’s voice shouted, “Tiebauld! Major Lambert’s men are riding up the road. There is a party of them, all on horseback.”

“What the bloody hell do they want now?” he demanded irritably.

She took hold of his arm, her expressive eyes wide with fright. “They’ve come for you, Aidan.”

“Or Deacon.”

“No. It’s
you
they want. I can feel it.” She pulled him toward the saddle room, where there was a door leading to the outside. “You must run. If you hurry, you can escape to one of those small boats by the beach. They won’t catch you if you are out at sea.”

“Anne—”

She ignored him, her mind busy with a plan. “I’ll go and tell them you are…are ill. I’ll refuse to let them see you, and that will buy more time for you—”

“Anne!” He took her arms, the shears still in one hand. “Listen to me. I’m not going to run.”

“You must! They will put you to death.”

Aidan shook his head and pulled her into his arms. She offered no resistance. He kissed the top of her hair. “Oh, Anne. They’ll expect me to run.” He held her tight, giving her a moment to calm herself. “Now listen, you must be brave and do what I tell you, even if you wish to argue with me.” He drew back to see her face. “We are going to greet the soldiers like the most loyal subjects the King has.”

“What if they arrest you?”

He smiled. The panic had left her eyes. Her courage was back. Her practical mind working. “You will weep and rail and pretend to be the dutiful wife. Then you will go to my room and look in the bottom of my clothing trunk at the end of the bed. Inside it is a false drawer. There you will find gold. Take it and return to London. Go to my sister. She will know what to do.”

“Can she save you?”

He almost laughed. Alpina would be furious if she knew of his activities. She barely thought of herself as Scottish. But he couldn’t tell Anne that. “She will do what she can. Now, put a good face on it. For all we know, Lambert dropped one of his gloves and has come to retrieve it.”

“I doubt it.”

“We’ll see, then.” He offered her his arm.

Anne looked down at it and smiled. “Very well. Let us pretend all is normal.”

“It is—for us!”

His wise observation surprised a laugh out of her as he’d intended it to. He escorted her out of the barn, York trotting proudly beside them, and there they were greeted by what appeared to be all the tenants of Kelwin.

It took them both aback to be an object of such speculation. Mrs. Mowat and Mrs. Keith stood with raised eyebrows. Even Fang was there. He spoke for the group as he always did. “Well?”

“Well
what
?” Aidan asked.

Fang’s eyes rounded like an owl’s. “What is the matter with your brains, Laird? We all want to know if she is staying.”

Anne pulled back, fearing the answer to such a question. Aidan placed his hand reassuringly over hers resting on his arm. “For now,” he said.

A cheer the likes of which he’d never heard went up from the crowd. The women congratulated each other as though they had accomplished something. Some of the men were less pleased. Aidan thought he saw money change hands and realized there had been a wager or two.

All he could do was laugh. If a demonstration of such affection was not enough to will her to stay, well, it had to soften her resolve a bit.

“Come along,” he said briskly. “We have company.”

His reminder sobered everyone. “What do you want us to do, Tiebauld?” Hugh asked.

Aidan gestured with the hand holding the shears. “Be yourselves. Nothing is amiss. But let us not go down into the courtyard together. Some of you take the cliff path.” He nodded to Davey. “Take care of my lady’s horse.” The boy ran to do his bidding.

Aidan turned to his wife. “Shall we?”

She nodded, almost as if not trusting her voice to speak. They were almost to the courtyard when she said, “Do we look like a lord and lady coming in from a stroll?” She rearranged her shawl on her shoulders.

“Possibly. Remember what I told you about the trunk and keep your wits about you. Here they are.” He led her to stand on the castle’s front step while he walked out to greet the party of some twenty men.

The soldiers rode through Kelwin’s majestic gate, their red coats a bright splash of color on an overcast day. Major Lambert was not leading them. Instead, his young second-in-command was in charge.

Around the courtyard walls, the people of Kelwin gathered to watch in spite of Aidan’s warning. The day before, their mood had been cautious. Today they were hostile. Aidan noticed Fang’s two oldest sons carried pitchforks, as if they’d just come in from the fields.

He prayed the hotheads would keep their tempers.

The officer rode up to Aidan and dismounted. Bowing, he said, “Lord Tiebauld?”

Aidan nodded.

“I am Lieutenant Fordyce. I apologize for calling on you so early.”

Not liking the man’s forced politeness, Aidan asked bluntly, “What business brings you back to Kelwin, Lieutenant?” They might as well have it out in the open.

The officer licked his bottom lip, a nervous gesture. There was a note of regret in his voice when he said, “Major Lambert has requested the company of Lady Tiebauld as his dinner guest this evening. We are to escort her to his headquarters in Lybster. I have a horse for her to ride.” He nodded to one of the soldiers, who came forward with a steady-looking bay.