The Master Of Strathburn (30 page)

Lady Strathburn’s face grew visibly paler beneath her powder and the malicious glitter in her eyes was replaced with a look of fear. The scene was almost too much for Jessie to witness. She swallowed and looked away, awkwardness prickling along her skin. Although she felt the countess deserved to be brought down a peg or two, she felt conspicuous. An intruder.

Still seemingly oblivious to Jessie’s presence, the earl continued. ‘Yes, you had better bite your viper’s tongue, dear wife, or you’ll soon find yourself mucking in with the horses in nothing but a burlap sack.’ Finished, with his scolding, he then crossed over to Jessie and offered her his arm to escort her from the room.

When Jessie chanced a fleeting glance back at Lady Strathburn, the undisguised look of hatred that the woman shot her filled her heart with foreboding. She feared that when the viper struck again, it would be much worse than a barbed comment.

* * *

It didn’t take long for Lady Strathburn to retaliate. Not long after Jessie had retired to her bedchamber to rest a little before the appointment at Parliament Hall with the Lord Advocate, the countess entered her room without knocking, taking her completely by surprise.

Jessie rose from her shepherdess chair and curtsied. ‘Milady?’ she enquired. Apprehension trickled like ice water down her spine.

Lady Strathburn raked her with a disdainful gaze; she looked at Jessie as if she was something repellent she’d found stuck on the sole of her well-heeled shoe. ‘I have no idea what Lord Strathburn sees in you,’ she began.

Calm, Jessie
. She bit her tongue, certain that if she said anything, it would contain more than a few choice expletives. Lady Strathburn was obviously determined to belittle her and put her back in what
she
considered to be her rightful place—that of the hired help. Even though she knew it would provoke the countess, Jessie couldn’t resist the urge to raise her chin defiantly.

Lady Strathburn didn’t miss the insult. She narrowed her eyes, her stare positively poisonous. ‘I can understand to a degree why my own son wishes to dally with you,’ she continued. ‘You obviously possess certain attributes—quite tawdry and obvious in my opinion—that men find alluring. But, the thought of
you
as my daughter-in-law, the wife of the Viscount Lochrose, is quite laughable.’

Jessie felt heat rise to her cheeks, but she was determined this woman would not intimidate her. She had nothing to be ashamed of. ‘Well, yer husband an’ my Lord Lochrose obviously disagree with you, milady,’ she replied tightly.

Lady Strathburn smirked. ‘You think you have made quite a catch don’t you? If my stepson escapes the executioner’s axe that is. But what do you really know about your betrothed, Jessie Munroe?’ She took a few swift steps closer and grasped Jessie’s upper arm, her fingers cruelly digging into the soft flesh right where Jessie’s bullet wound lay. Jessie gasped and tried without success to pull away. Tears of pain welled.

Lady Strathburn’s face was an ugly leering mask. ‘Did you know your beloved Robert was quite the rakehell, just like his brother Simon? Before the Rebellion, I couldn’t count the number of young women he’d bedded. What makes you think that it will be any different with you? From what I hear, Lord Strathburn forced Robert into being hand-fasted to you, obviously in a vain attempt to curb his son’s wayward tendencies. Robert may think you a comely lass, but once he’s had you, if he hasn’t already, he’ll soon grow tired of you. Just like my Simon would have.’

The countess released her arm and glided to the door, her wide, jade silk skirts practically hissing as they swept across the floor. She paused on the threshold and flicked one last barb Jessie’s way. ‘But it’s my hope that you won’t even be wed to begin with. Either Robert will be executed, or he will come to his senses and end this farce of a betrothal. Either way, I won’t have to suffer your presence in my household any longer.’

Only when the door slammed shut, did Jessie give into the quaking in her legs. Sinking back onto her chair, she pressed her trembling fingers to her lips. The strength of Lady Strathburn’s animosity terrified her right down to her very bones. What lengths would this woman would go to, to remove her and perhaps even Robert, from her life?

One thing was certain, Jessie did not really want to find out. But she feared that very soon, she just might.

By the time the hall clock struck half-past one, Jessie’s nerves were stretched as tautly as a bowstring. As she waited beside the earl for the carriage to be brought round to the front of the townhouse, she was grateful that Lord Strathburn was happy for her to accompany him to his meeting with the Lord Advocate. Action of any kind felt better than sitting around on tenterhooks waiting to find out what Robert’s fate would be. And action would keep her from dwelling on when Lady Strathburn’s axe might fall.

Although she felt there was nothing substantial that she could contribute to influence the Lord Advocate’s decision to grant Robert clemency, the earl had been quick to assure her that her presence would make a difference. ‘I happen to know that Lord Arniston would find it difficult to resist the request of one so fair,’ he said with a reassuring smile once they were both installed in the carriage. ‘And as long as Robert expresses a suitable amount of contrition and the intent to settle down, a pardon will be granted, I’m certain of it.’

The carriage ride to Parliament Hall took only a short space of time. The building was located close by to where she had walked this morning—in fact, it was directly across from St Giles Cathedral and the Tolbooth Prison. The carriage drew to a halt on the cobbled square before an equestrian statue of the mounted form of King Charles II.

It was with no small degree of apprehension that Jessie stared up at the Parliament’s grim Scottish Baronial style façade of grey brick and looming turreted towers. The dour-faced, black-robed and white-wigged court officials bustling in and out of the main entrance did not instil a feeling of confidence within her either. She consciously tried to slow her breathing and relax her fingers as she gripped the handle of the carriage door.

Lord Strathburn noting her unease, leaned forward and squeezed her other hand. ‘Courage, dear child. All will be well.’

On alighting from the carriage, Lord Strathburn and Jessie were immediately greeted by a bewigged and elegantly robed gentleman who introduced himself as the secretary of the Lord Advocate; he was to escort them both to Lord Arniston’s chambers.

If Jessie had been less nervous, she would have been able to admire the high vaulted ceiling of oak beams and magnificent stained glass windows as they traversed the main hall of the Parliament building. As it was, it took some effort—given the earl’s tendency to become short of breath and Jessie’s still considerably sore ankle—for both of them to keep apace with the secretary as he continued to lead them on through a series of corridors and up a flight of stairs until they eventually halted before a set of grand oak doors, guarded by a pair of scarlet-coated Scots Guards. At a nod from the secretary, one of the soldiers swung the doors wide to permit their entry into the room beyond.

It appeared to be a waiting room or an antechamber of sorts, elegantly appointed with leather and heavy oak furniture. Floor to ceiling bookshelves lined two of the walls. A small fireplace, flanked by two high narrow windows, permitted a narrow view of the spire of St Giles and bleakly grey skies.

The secretary indicated that they should take a seat by the fire, before he disappeared behind a door into another room. Heart slamming against her ribs, Jessie lowered herself onto one of the leather wingchairs, hoping they wouldn’t have to wait too long for Lord Arniston to make an appearance. The suspense was almost too much to bear.

Lord Strathburn mopped his brow with a silk kerchief. ‘Hmm, a cup of tea right about now wouldn’t go astray would it, my dear?’

Jessie nodded absently but seriously doubted if her stomach was in any state to partake of anything. Aside from being a little puffed and thirsty, Lord Strathburn showed no other sign of being uncomfortable or ill at ease. She was more than a little envious of his self-possession.

Jessie had just started to count the Scottish thistle motifs in the moulded plaster ceiling to distract herself during the seemingly interminable wait, when the sudden click of a latch made her jump. Her mouth dry, her palms suddenly sweaty, she rose just as a portly gentleman attired in an elegantly coiffed wig and robes of office entered the room—it was undoubtedly the Lord Advocate himself, Robert Dundas, the fourth Lord Arniston.

Although her legs shook, she swept into a curtsy. This man was King George’s representative in Scotland.
And he held Robert’s life in his hands.

‘William Grant,’ Lord Arnsiton intoned in a resonating baritone as he strode towards them. ‘It’s been far too long since we’ve seen each other.’ He grasped Lord Strathburn’s hand firmly and pumped it in a hearty shake before turning his penetrating gaze to Jessie. ‘Ah, and if I’m not mistaken, you must be Lord Strathburn’s soon-to-be daughter-in-law, Miss Munroe.’

‘Aye … I am, milord.’ Astonished that Lord Arniston clearly knew who she was, and that she was betrothed to Robert, Jessie nevertheless managed to gather her composure and smiled when Lord Arniston bowed over her hand in greeting. But how on earth did the Lord Advocate know these things about her when they had never met or been introduced? Lord Strathburn had not mentioned her name to the Advocate’s secretary either.

The earl looked equally confused by Lord Arniston’s uncanny intelligence. ‘Yes, this is indeed Miss Jessie Munroe. But if you don’t mind my asking, how did you know …?’

The Advocate turned to look at his friend, keen amusement lighting his eyes. ‘Believe me, there is very little that occurs around here that escapes my attention, Strathburn.’

Jessie’s heart leaped at the wily Lord Advocate’s next comment. ‘Now, my friend, I suppose we had better release your wayward son into your custody then, so he can settle down and wed this lass.’

Lord Strathburn looked even more dumbfounded. ‘But I was expecting—’

‘To plead Robert’s case for his past transgressions against king and country?’ Lord Arniston patted his friend on the shoulder, continuing to smile, his manner jovial. ‘When I heard that Robert Grant, the Viscount Lochrose and the Master of Strathburn, the eldest son of one my oldest friends, had been installed in the Tolbooth, I arranged to have an interview with him. I’d already sighted your hand-written appeal for clemency and I must say, Lord Lochrose pled his own case very well. I was very impressed by his honesty when confessing his part in the Rebellion. It was obvious he deeply regrets his involvement and as he has now made a pledge to be a loyal subject to His Majesty the King, I see no reason to hold him to account for the rash misdeeds of a decade ago.’

Jessie could hardly believe what the Lord Advocate was telling them.
Robert was to be released.
The decision had already been made to grant him clemency. His life was to be spared. A heady combination of relief and nervous excitement bubbled through her as swiftly as the swirling torrent of a Highland burn. This meant she and Robert were undoubtedly going to be married. Her gaze darted to Lord Strathburn, seeking his reaction to this astounding good news.

There were tears in the earl’s dark blue eyes as he grasped Lord Arniston’s hand. ‘I cannot thank you enough for your tolerance and understanding, my friend. You have made an old man, who had given up hope of ever seeing his son again, so very happy.’

Lord Arniston beamed his pleasure and summoned his secretary to bring the required custody documents for Lord Strathburn to sign immediately. They all sat in the leather chairs before the fire while the earl perused the papers.

‘Now Strathburn, you will see when you read this document that your son is being released into your custody, and is in fact on probation for the next year and a day,’ Lord Arniston pointed out, his tone all business. Despite his previously affable manner, Jessie could now see the authority that befit his former position of Solicitor General of Scotland and current position of Advocate.

‘You must ensure that Lord Lochrose remains a loyal subject to his Majesty King George and law-abiding at all times forthwith,’ he continued. ‘After the required probationary time has passed, he will be granted a full pardon by his Majesty. And I must say, the fact that Lord Lochrose will soon wed this delightful young lady goes a long way to helping his bid for freedom.’ Lord Arniston threw Jessie a benevolent smile. ‘There’s nothing like the love of a good woman to make a man settle down and reform his wild ways. I trust that you find the terms satisfactory, Strathburn.’

‘Indeed I do,’ Lord Strathburn smiled warmly at his friend and signed the documents.

And as easy as that, Robert’s release was secured.

Jessie could hardly believe it. It had all been so quick, so simple. Whilst overwhelming relief and joy that Robert was to be set free still washed through her, an underlying current of uncertainty tugged at her like an undertow. Try as she might, she couldn’t suppress the doubts that Lady Strathburn had stirred up. And if she was truly honest with herself, the same doubts had been on her mind from the very start—that Robert did not really wish to be married and was being forced into this hand-fasting—by his father and now, even the Lord Advocate.

If only she knew how Robert really felt about her. Were there any feelings beyond physical attraction and a degree of protectiveness? Did he love her as she loved him? How would it feel to have gained your liberty, only to be trapped in an unwanted marriage?

She didn’t want Robert to feel that way.
Trapped.

After counter-signing the release papers and stamping them with his personal seal in red wax, Lord Arniston rose from his seat and rubbed his hands together in obvious anticipation of what was to come next. ‘Now at last, the part of the afternoon I have been looking forward to the most,’ he declared and nodded at his secretary who promptly disappeared into the adjoining chamber.