The Marriage Contract (19 page)

“No, no,” Aidan hastened to assure him. “Gilbride died of old age and obstinacy as we all knew he would. But I’ve a plan to pull a switch, one I think Old Packy would enjoy playing a part in.” Quickly, he told Robbie what he intended. “I’ll bury the soldier in Gilbride’s grave. There won’t be any loose ends.”

“Sooner or later, someone will miss the soldier.”

Aidan shook his head. “Lambert will think the soldier deserted. They desert all the time, especially around planting season.”

“But Packy and I don’t look anything alike.”

“Have you seen yourself lately? Dead Gilbride looks better.” Aidan stood. “You’re both about the same height, and the grayness in the red hair may or may not be noticed. I warned Lambert he dare not
let you die or there will be a war. If my plan works, I’ll advise Lambert to bury you as quickly as possible else word gets out the English killed you.”

“I don’t—”

Aidan cut through his protest. “It’s the only plan I have. We must risk it and time is wasting.” He began stripping the soldier. “If you want freedom, get into this uniform.”

Robbie began disrobing. While he changed, Aidan fetched Packy Gilbride. Packy’s body had shrunk in death. Robbie’s shirt and coat fit him. Aidan didn’t bother with the rest of the clothes but tied Packy’s body to the chair.

In all, he’d spent ten minutes in the cellar, but at any moment someone might notice the guard on the cellar was missing. The time had come to leave. “Hurry,” he urged. Robbie nodded that he was ready.

Aidan said, “When you leave the estate, go to the Widow Ewing’s house. Do you remember her?”

“How could I forget Mavis? We’ve romped under the covers more than one night.”

Aidan couldn’t help but smile. Robbie was sounding more and more like his old self; he was beaten, but he was a survivor. “Tell her I will make it worth her while if she takes you in for a stay. She’ll do it for me.”

“She’ll do it for
me,
” Robbie refuted.

“Just see you don’t let any harm come to her,”
Aidan answered, and hurried him toward the door. “You go first, I’ll follow.”

Robbie took the guard’s post. Aidan waited the space of several heartbeats and then lifted the guard’s body on his shoulders. He cracked open the door, listening, and was about to slip out when he heard voices. The watch! Probably the two men who had been gossiping under the tree.

Aidan took a step back so that if someone entered, he would be behind the door. He waited.

The guards said something to Robbie, who grunted his answer. Robbie’s response must have been enough, because a moment later, he knocked on the door, a signal it was safe.

Aidan slipped out. “They didn’t notice?”

“They’ve been drinking,” Robbie whispered with disgust. “I’d shoot any of my men who drank on watch. Well, now, go on. Hurry…and God be with you, Laird Tiebauld.”

Aidan didn’t answer, but started back to the village. The sun would soon rise. It was close to three in the morning when he found himself in the graveyard. He made quick work of burying the guard and carefully put the shovel and pick back in the shed where he’d found them.

If anyone noticed anything out of place, they’d probably think it spirits and ghosties. The idea gave him no amusement.

He had to make his way back to Anne without
tipping off the guards, and he was running out of time.

Anne thought she’d been alert and wakeful, but when the door opened, she gave such a start, she knew she’d been dozing. She threw her arm over the mound of pillows masquerading as Aidan and pretended to sleep. The door closed.

“It’s me, Anne,” her husband whispered.

She rolled over on her back and then scrambled up, tucking the sheet around her. Aidan closed the door, his shadowy presence almost larger than life. “What are you doing coming in the door?” she whispered. “I thought you’d use the window.”

“I didn’t have the strength to climb back up and I decided at this hour of the morning, no one would expect me to walk right in. So I removed my boots and tiptoed up the stairs. Our guard is asleep. Both he and Lambert snore.”

Aidan appeared exhausted. He walked past the bed to peer out the window. Night was passing, replaced by the first hazy glow of dawn.

“Weren’t there guards anywhere else?” she asked.

“Major Lambert’s men are a lazy lot,” he answered, his voice subdued. “He has patrols out but they are easy to dodge.” He set his boots down and crossed to the wash stand.

“The major checked on you. The ruse worked.” She told him of Major Lambert’s conversation with the colonel. While she spoke, he poured water into
the wash basin. Carefully, he splashed water on his face and hands. Then he began lathering with the soap. Over and over he kept washing his hands.

Anne’s voice trailed off. She stood, wrapping the sheet around her. “Are you all right?”

He didn’t answer, but kept rubbing the lather over his knuckles, along his fingers.

“Is it Robbie?” she whispered. “Could you save him?”

“It is too soon to tell.” He stopped washing his hands and stared at the lather covering them as if he couldn’t quite comprehend how it had gotten there.

Anne crossed to him. Lifting the pitcher, she rinsed off the soap.

Aidan didn’t look at her. “My clothes are filthy. Dirt. Everywhere.”

“I’ll brush them off. Here, remove them and let me have them.”

It seemed to take several minutes for her words to sink in. Almost absently, he began to undress, but got lost in the motions.

Gently Anne guided him to the bed and pushed him to sit, sensing he needed this moment of quiet. She undressed him. Sweat and dirt stained his shirt. Fortunately, the streaks of dirt on his breeches could easily be brushed out.

“Your neck cloth and coat will hide the soil on your shirt, at least long enough for us to get away.”

He nodded.

His strange manner was unsettling.

She knelt in front of him. “Aidan, has something horrible happened?”

He made more of an effort then. “It’s been a long night.”

“When will we know if you’ve succeeded?”

Shrugging, he asked, “What time is it?”

“Almost four, I suspect.”

He nodded, but when he didn’t speak, she took his hand in hers. “Let’s return to bed. It is out of our hands now. You have done everything you could.”

“Yes.”

Expecting him to lie down, she started to rise, but he caught her by the shoulders. He pulled her into his lap and hugged her close, his arms like strong bands around her. He held her tightly.

“Aidan, what is wrong?” she whispered in his ear.

“I killed a man, Anne.”

The words were etched in such deep regret they were almost painful to hear. She brought her arms around him. “You had no choice?”

For the first time since he’d entered the room, Aidan’s gaze met hers. “I had no choice.”

She cradled the side of his whiskered jaw with her hand. Tears welled in her eyes. She felt his anguish as if it were her own. “My poor love. My poor, poor love.”

For a long time they sat this way…and then he began kissing her. “I need you, Anne. I need you.” His hand loosened her sheet.

“I know.” She shifted so the sheet could slip down around her waist.

His fingertips lightly outlined her lips. “You are right. No one wins at war.”

She didn’t know what to say. No words were adequate. Instead, she opened her arms and he came to her. She hugged him close, her fingers combing his hair.

“Anne,” he whispered against her breast. His tongue flicked the sensitive nipple before he lowered her onto the mattress.

They made love. This time, it was different than it had been during the joyful afternoon when they had been enamored with the excitement of discovery.

Now their lovemaking was a solace, a search for meaning in a world that often seems senseless. A bonding.

When they were done, he was able to sleep.

But Anne couldn’t. She held him in her arms and kept watch, praying his sacrifice was enough to free them—knowing that if it wasn’t, she would follow him anywhere, even to death.

Well past dawn, Anne heard shouting. Aidan woke. They both lay still, listening.

Booted footsteps bounded up the stairs and pounded on the room belonging to Major Lambert. He summoned the messenger in. A second later, he swore with frustration.

She strained to hear what was being said but there was too much noise. Aidan rose from the bed and crossed over to the window, heedless of his nakedness.

“What is happening?” she asked.

“I don’t know—yet.” He turned from the window and gave her a inscrutable smile. Aidan’s smile. Whatever had haunted him the night before had passed. The ends of his newly cut hair stood up every which way, and he needed a shave.

She didn’t think he’d ever appeared more handsome.

Colonel Witherspoon was now awake. He stopped outside their door in the hall. “What is it, Major? What is going on?”

Anne reached for Aidan’s hand, uncertain of what to expect. Aidan was as tense as she was.

“It’s the prisoner,” Major Lambert said, lowering his voice. “Robbie Gunn is dead.”

“
The devil you say,
” the colonel snapped. Aidan pulled Anne away from the door.

“Get dressed,” he whispered. He reached for his breeches hanging over the back of the chair.

“But Aidan, they’ve killed Robbie Gunn.” The implications of their act overwhelmed her. The Highlands would be set aflame with war and strife. Kelwin and all the people who made it special could be destroyed.

“Anne, get dressed,” he ordered. He was already buttoning his breeches.

“Aidan—?”

Suddenly he was in front of her, silencing her protest with a kiss, his hands gripping her arms. He broke the kiss, his gaze intent. “I ask you to trust me.
Now, do as I say. We don’t have much time.
”

Woodenly, she moved to obey. She reached for her chemise at the end of the bed and dropped the sheet to the floor. Aidan pushed his head through the
neck of his shirt and shrugged on his vest, buttoning the front so the worst of the dirt stains were effectively hidden. Then, without warning, he threw open the door.

Anne grabbed her dress and scrambled to hide behind the door.

Her bold, outrageous husband confronted Major Lambert. “Did you say Robbie Gunn is dead?”

Quickly pulling on her clothes, Anne peeked through the crack. Major Lambert frowned, his lips clamped shut, but Colonel Witherspoon, who still wore his nightshirt over his breeches, nodded.

“That is what the major is telling me.” He made a short bow. “I am Colonel Witherspoon, Lord Tiebauld. We have not met before, but I have heard much about you. I wish our introduction could be under more fortunate circumstances.”

“I didn’t choose the circumstances at all, Colonel Witherspoon,” Aidan said coldly, every inch the affronted lord. “I fear Major Lambert has overstepped his boundaries. Of course, you realize, Colonel, his single-handed decision to take Robbie Gunn prisoner and torture him may cause rebellion.”

“Gunn was a Jacobite—” Lambert started, but Aidan cut him off.

“Every Scotsman is a Jacobite at heart. It goes with the romance of our country, and we are all romantics. Gunn was vocal about the Clearances. His family lost everything—their land, their heritage—all stolen by those with money to do it. But if you in
tend, Lambert, to arrest and beat every man who stands against the Clearances, you will be very busy.”

“I’m certain Major Lambert had good cause to arrest Gunn, my lord,” Colonel Witherspoon said.

“No, he didn’t,” Aidan answered crushingly. “He took after Gunn as a way to settle an old score against me.”

Major Lambert declared, “What a ridiculous statement!”

Aidan said, “You knew Gunn and I were distant cousins. Ever since we were in school together, you envied my title and my family’s prestige.”

Anne formed an “O” with her lips. Aidan’s words echoed the major’s from the night before, words he had spoken to the colonel.

“Oh, yes,” Major Lambert said sarcastically. “And I would trump up charges of treason to discredit you? There is no basis for such wild conjecture. Gunn was plotting rebellion.”

“If so, where is your proof?” Aidan asked coolly. “And I’ll expect something more solid than rumor or snippets of conversation overheard in tap rooms.”

Major Lambert’s face turned a livid red. “He would have confessed.”

The seeds of doubt had been planted. From her hiding place, Anne had a clear view of Colonel Witherspoon’s face. He slid an evaluating glance in Major Lambert’s direction. Ambitious men must al
ways be cautious, she realized. The colonel could not afford to be linked to Major Lambert’s mistakes.

Then Aidan changed tack. It surprised both Anne and the major. “But Gunn’s death is history. The important question is, what needs to be done now?”

“Who needs
you
to do
anything
?” Major Lambert practically snarled.

“You.” Aidan nodded to the guard. “Is he necessary?”

“No,” Colonel Witherspoon said, before Major Lambert could speak, and dismissed the man. Once they were alone, he asked, “What do you believe should be done, my lord?”

“He’s one of them!” Major Lambert protested. “You can’t listen to him.”

“Lambert, you are a fool,” Aidan answered with a flash of temper. “In your ambitious arrogance, you have jeopardized all of us. Sutherland, Argyll, myself”—he paused before adding quietly to the distinguished list of titled gentry—“and Colonel Witherspoon.”

The colonel shifted, obviously ill-at-ease.

“Gunn is not that important,” Major Lambert retorted disdainfully.

“A moment ago he was the key to an insurrection,” Aidan said. “You can’t have it both ways, Major.”

“And do you feel Gunn was important?” Colonel Witherspoon asked Aidan.

“Fiery Robbie Gunn had the devil’s own temper.
He could be a suspicious pest in life, but in death he will take on the status of a hero. As the descendant of a Scottish rebel, I understand the power of legend. We must prevent such a thing from happening.”

“How can we?” Colonel Witherspoon asked, edging closer to Aidan.

“Bury him. Now, quickly, before word spreads.”

“He can’t just disappear,” Major Lambert replied, echoing the question that had popped into Anne’s mind.

“Yes he can,” Aidan said. “Everyone knows the Gunns had little to their name. We’ll put it about that he escaped and left the country.” He shrugged. “Whole families are leaving now, driven out by the Clearances. Robbie’s leaving would make sense.”

“To go where?” Colonel Witherspoon asked with genuine interest.

Aidan considered a moment. “France, Denmark—it doesn’t matter.”

The colonel tested the idea in his mind. “Why not? The Frogs adore rebels. They’d probably have made him a minister of state.”

“Robbie Gunn would have liked such a role.” Aidan asked Major Lambert, “Who knew he was here?”

The major didn’t want to answer the question. He clearly resented Aidan’s intrusion. But a sharp comment from Colonel Witherspoon forced Major Lambert to answer. “Few.”

Aidan snorted. “What does that mean?”

“Yes, Lambert, what does that mean?” the colonel parroted.

“A tavern keeper and a maid we paid to keep their mouths shut.”

“Will they talk?” Colonel Witherspoon asked.

“Not if they value their lives,” Major Lambert said. “I wanted Gunn’s whereabouts kept quiet. I didn’t have enough men to defend him if—” He broke off and looked away.

“Defend him if what?” Colonel Witherspoon prompted.

“If his brother or Lord Tiebauld attempted to rescue him.”

“And jeopardize everything I own?” Aidan laughed, and Anne quietly laughed with him. His protest rang with truth. “Lambert,” he continued, “you are living in a world of your devising. I have business interests and a responsibility to the Crown. A better jest yet is to think of what sort of force I could raise among my sheepherding clansmen.”

“But your great-grandfather—” Major Lambert started.

“Is dead,” Aidan finished. “I was raised in England. My sister married an important statesman—”

“Who is that?” Colonel Witherspoon asked.

“Lord Waldo,” Aidan answered.

“Lord Waldo?” the colonel repeated in reverent tones. “I did not know you were related to him.”

“Yes, he was a great man,” Aidan said off-handedly.

“He helped arrange my commission,” Colonel Witherspoon said.

Anne could have shouted “Hallejuah.” As it was, she leaned back against the wall, almost overwhelmed by their good fortune.

Aidan quickly capitalized on the connection. “My sister was his second wife.”

“Ah, yes, I met her in London. A gracious woman,” Colonel Witherspoon said. “In fact, now I recognize the family resemblance between the two of you.”

“And can you see her attacking the Crown?” Aidan asked with a thin smile.

“Lady Waldo? Absolutely not,” Colonel Witherspoon answered.

“Then pass the word on to Major Lambert, and perhaps at last he will believe rebels don’t lurk behind every rock in the Highlands.” Aidan didn’t wait for a response but added with lordly contempt, “I’m done here. You have threatened my wife and damaged my honor. Gentlemen, Robbie Gunn’s blood is on your hands. The problem is of your own making. I wash my hands of the lot of you.” He started to close the door, but Colonel Witherspoon placed his foot in its path.

“I didn’t know Lambert was going to beat the bloody man to death.”

“It won’t matter,” Aidan answered. “It happened under your command.” He shut the door.

A hundred questions jumped to Anne’s lips. Aidan shook his head, warning her now was not the time. They listened. A second later, Major Lambert said, “I did not act irresponsibly. I know Gunn was raising an army.”

“You heard Tiebauld,” the colonel said. “Gunn had no money. What was he going to raise an army with?”

“Tiebauld supported him,” Major Lambert said, but some of his bluster was gone. He obviously realized how weak his reasoning sounded.

Colonel Witherspoon sighed heavily. “There is always a rebellion being planned in Scotland and Ireland. The rabble are never happy.” There was a pause and then, he said so quietly Anne had to strain to hear, “You are relieved of your duties, Major.”

“What?” The word burst out of Lambert. Aidan’s arms around Anne tightened as they listened to the major recover himself. “I beg your pardon, sir, but shouldn’t you take a moment to consider?”

“I’ve considered,” the colonel said bluntly, “and have decided it best for you to leave immediately. Return to my headquarters and I will see letters are drawn up to have you reassigned from Scotland.”

“But there is nowhere to go!” Lambert said. “Other than Ireland or the West Indies.”

“Where I’m certain you will find a suitable post.” The colonel started walking back to his room, but Lambert must have stepped in his way.

“I am not wrong about Gunn.”

“Well, we’ll never know, will we? Gunn is dead, and Tiebauld is right! If word gets about how we caused his death, then we will have a riot on our hands, a riot of your making.”

“I kept you informed of my every action,” Major Lambert countered.

Colonel Witherspoon’s voice became steel. “I did not order you to hold Tiebauld. Perhaps your jealousy blinds you.”

“I am jealous of
no man.
” Major Lambert spat the words out.

“It is of no difference,” Colonel Witherspoon answered. He raised his voice. “Lieutenant Fordyce?”

“Yes, sir.” His voice came from a distance, as if he stood at the bottom of the stairs.

“Hand pick a detail of men known for their closed lips. See that the prisoner is buried immediately.”

“Yes, sir,” the lieutenant answered. A second later, Anne and Aidan heard the door to Colonel Witherspoon’s door shut while the lieutenant left the house to do his duty.

Only Major Lambert was left. Anne could feel the heat of the man’s frustration even through the hardwood—

A fist slammed into the heavy door. Anne couldn’t stop a small cry of surprise. She waited for the major to charge into the room; instead, he marched down the stairs.

Aidan released a breath of relief. “Let us leave as quickly as possible.” He didn’t need to repeat the
suggestion; she was already searching for her stockings.

He tightened the laces of her dress as she shoved her toe in the tip of a rolled-up stocking. “You’ve been brave, Anne, my darling. Keep it up. We are almost free.”

“Is Robbie Gunn truly dead?”

He brushed a quick kiss on her head. “Later.” He finished dressing himself in an economy of movement.

She tied her garters and slipped on her shoes, thinking she and Aidan worked almost as a team. Rising from the bed, she helped him tie his neck cloth. The starch had long gone out of it…and he looked tired.

She pressed her hand against his cheek. “You’ve done the best you could.”

“I pray it is enough.” He took her arm and led her to the door. Outside, the guard had not come back.

They went downstairs. Colonel Witherspoon sat at the dining room table; Lieutenant Fordyce was with him. The colonel rose upon seeing Anne and Aidan. “Ah, so you have decided to take your leave, my lord?” he said jovially, as though they’d been overnight guests and not prisoners.

“I’m afraid I must,” Aidan answered with classic understatement. He handed Anne her straw bonnet. She wandered into the sitting room, where there was a mirror by the door, and tied the bow.

“I’ve taken the liberty of ordering your coach
around,” Colonel Witherspoon said. “One of my men will drive you.”

“I appreciate your offer,” Aidan said, “but I believe I will drive my own coach. It has been a long time since I’ve had my hands on the ribbons.”

“Then an escort?”

“Unnecessary. Thank you.”

Their dialogue jarred Anne. They could have been two old friends at a house party. It made her uneasy.

Aidan came into the room where she was. “Are you ready, my lady?” For a second, he almost appeared a stranger rather than the man she’d fully and completely accepted as her husband—and she realized there were two sides to Aidan. One was the arrogantly confident Scotsman who enjoyed hard labor and good fun.

The other was the man waiting for her. A man with polished manners. Urbane, sophisticated…in complete control.

Then he held out his hand and the two became one in her mind. Her Aidan. The man she loved.

She placed her hand in his. He said his final farewells to Colonel Witherspoon, even offering a friendly comment to Lieutenant Fordyce. They went out the door.

The coach waited, the horses stamping with impatience. “Have you ever ridden in the driver’s box?” Aidan asked.

Anne tried to say no, but found her mouth too dry.

“You’ll enjoy it,” Aidan answered pleasantly.
They could be preparing to take a ride in the park—instead of hoping to escape with their lives. “Here.” He helped her up.

The box seat was narrow. Being up this high made her dizzy. She started to sit. As she did, she glanced in front of her and froze.

Two soldiers marched into the woods carrying a canvas-wrapped body between them. They were followed by a third man who lugged shovels.