The Master Of Strathburn (35 page)

Although it was customary for gentleman of substance to resolve disputes of honour in this way, Jessie also knew that officially, duelling was strictly proscribed by law. If Robert was caught engaging in such an act whilst on probation, there was no doubt in her mind that the consequences for him would be dire. There would be no escaping the executioner’s axe this time.

Robert raised her hands to his lips and gently kissed her fingertips. His blue eyes were dark with emotion. ‘You are worth immeasurably more to me than my own life,
mo chridhe
. And defending your honour is definitely worth the risk. Besides,’ the expression in his eyes suddenly changed—grew bleak—and he ran a hand down his face, ‘I feel partly responsible for what Simon has done.’

Jessie’s eyebrows shot up in disbelief. ‘Wha’ever do you mean? You know Simon has been looking for an opportunity to … to have me, ever since I met him. You canna blame yerself for wha’ that monster tried to do tonight.’

Robert stood abruptly and paced to the sideboard. He poured himself a whisky and took a swig before he turned back to face her. The pull of his skin across his cheekbones and the rigid lines bracketing his mouth clearly marked his anguish. ‘Earlier this afternoon, I paid Simon a visit at his lodgings, and made it clear that he would not be able to continue to leach off the family’s fortune. I also warned him not to go anywhere near you again. I think I goaded him into taking rash action. If I had known that he would go so far … to hurt you to get back at me—’

He broke off and ran a hand through his dark hair; a stark look of self-recrimination clouded his eyes.

Jessie rose from her seat and crossed the hearthrug to stand before him. ‘Do no’ dare blame yerself, Robert Grant,’ she chided gently. ‘The only ones to blame are yer brother … and Lady Strathburn.’

Robert raised an eyebrow. ‘Why do you think my stepmother is involved in tonight’s events?’ he asked. ‘I know I said earlier that she would possibly go to great lengths to maintain the upper hand in this family. But to orchestrate a direct attack upon you?’ He shook his head. ‘Surely she wouldn’t sink so low.’

Jessie frowned. ‘I dinna know exactly, it’s just a suspicion I have.’ She walked slowly over to the fireplace, her head bent, chin resting on her clasped hands as she comtemplated how best to put her thoughts into words. The fire crackled and a log fell, shooting sparks towards the torn hem of her gown, but she didn’t care. She turned back to look at Robert and began to explain. ‘Earlier this afternoon, Lady Strathburn made it abundantly clear to me tha’ she does no’ wish me to become her daughter-in-law. I have no proof, but I think in part, this attack was designed to get rid of me. Perhaps she thought if Simon ruined me, you would no’ wish to marry me.’

Robert put down his glass and strode over to her. He tilted her chin up, capturing her gaze. ‘That would never be the case,’ he said in a velvet-soft voice. ‘Nothing could stop me from marrying you.’ He trailed one long finger along her jaw before he tucked a loose curl behind her ear. ‘If that was my stepmother’s plan,’ he continued, his voice developing an edge of steel to it, ‘she has not planned well. All she has done is guaranteed that her son will be run through with my sword.’

Before she could even draw a breath to reply, Robert pulled her into his arms. With a shaky sigh, Jessie gave into the impulse to rest her head against Robert’s broad chest, to breathe in the now familiar scent of his soap and the heady essence of the man himself. She could hear his strong heartbeat thudding beneath her ear. Feel the rise and fall of him as he drew breath. What a wonderful, wonderful man he was.

She closed her eyes, wishing she could stay like this forever, but even though her body began to relax, her thoughts were still awhirl. There was something about this whole turn of events that made her very uneasy. This was not just about her. It was almost as if the attack on her tonight had been engineered to provoke Robert. She sensed treachery.

Yes. That was it. Icy fear curled down her spine.

She straightened and gripped Robert’s arm. She had to make him see that he was in danger. ‘I rather think all of this has more to do with getting rid of you, Robert, rather than me. The more I consider wha’ has happened, the more I am convinced tha’ you are being manipulated into doing something tha’ will bring about yer own downfall.’

Sharp interest sparked in Robert’s eyes. ‘I’m listening.’

Jessie took a deep breath and prayed Robert would believe her. ‘We know yer stepmother has always wished Simon to be the next Earl of Strathburn. I rather got the impression this afternoon tha’ she was counting on you being executed. But then you were released. I may be wrong, but I think she had a hand in arranging Simon’s attack, knowing tha’ you would undoubtedly challenge yer brother to a duel. She would know the conditions of your parole. If you violate those conditions—an’ are caught duelling—you could be arrested and imprisoned again. An’ I find it more than a wee bit passing strange that Simon seemed so ready to agree to a duel in the first place. I suspect tha’ half of the Scots Guard will be waiting for you in Holyrood Park come dawn. Although I have not the slightest bit of evidence, I think yer stepmother an’ brother have set a neat trap to get rid of at least one of us, if not both, in one fell swoop.’

* * *

Robert ran a hand down his face. Jessie was right. There was a ring of truth to what she had suggested. And the more he thought about it, he really couldn’t fault her logic. It was true that his stepmother had always wanted to supplant him in favour of Simon becoming the next earl. Caroline was more than capable of plotting tonight’s attack. And Simon would be more than willing to participate in a plan that involved ruining both Jessie and himself.

It also made perfect sense that Simon would only have agreed to the duel if he thought there was no real chance that he would get hurt—which would undoubtedly be the case if there were soldiers lying in wait.

Simon was a bully and a coward at heart; he was more likely to turn tail and run than face a swordfight he had no chance of winning. Yet Simon had been the one to suggest the time and place for the duel.

It was more than passing strange as Jessie had suggested.

But Simon must face the consequences of his actions. Of that there was no doubt.

Robert let out a long sigh. ‘Jessie, I think you may be right. But I can’t let this go, despite the danger. After what Simon has done, he needs to be taught a lesson.’

Jessie shook her head, her eyes wide with fear. ‘Please do no’ do this. I couldna forgive myself if something happened …’ Her lovely bottom lip trembled and as tears welled, Robert knew without a shadow of a doubt Jessie cared for him. Perhaps even loved him. And while his heart clenched to see her so desperate with worry, his blood sang.

‘I will be all right, my love,’ he whispered, brushing her tears away with his fingers. ‘Trust me.’

‘But—’

She got no further. Why use words when he could show Jessie how much he cared for her too? Capturing her beautiful face in his hands he kissed her with tender reverence, his mouth gently claiming her,
loving her
. She sank into him, immediately pressing her soft curves against his body, reaching up to clasp her hands around his neck to draw him yet closer. His lips firmed against hers, his tongue teasing the full curve of her lower lip, seeking access to the velvet sweetness within. She parted her mouth on a sigh, surrendering completely as the kiss slowly deepened, tangled her tongue with his in her own thorough exploration.

God in heaven, his Jessie was as ardent as she was fearless—her encounter with Simon obviously hadn’t reduced her enjoyment of kissing. As for her enjoyment of anything else of a physical nature, when the time came, Robert vowed he would be patience itself. She would dictate the pace of their loving—he would follow her lead. But now was not the right moment. He had a matter of honour to attend to.

With a groan of frustration, he broke the kiss, reluctantly dragging his mouth away. He looked down at her, watching her eyes flutter open before refocusing on him; a slight smile curved her lips. ‘Will you wait up for me?’ he asked, relieved that perhaps some of her calm had been restored.

‘Of course,’ she breathed. ‘I would do anything for you.’

His mouth slanted into a smile. ‘I won’t be long. I’ll ring for Janet to assist you while I’m gone.’ As he took his leave, he consoled himself with the thought that the sooner he made the necessary arrangements for dealing with Simon, the sooner he would be back to show Jessie exactly how much she meant to him.

How much he loved her.

Janet arrived soon after Robert departed. Jessie was thankful that the young girl was all business when it came to helping her change out of her ruined gown. There were no curious questions or comments about Simon’s attack or the various bruises that had appeared on her arms and neck. Nor were there any censorious looks about the fact that she would be installed in Lord Lochrose’s rooms for the night. Jessie was grateful for the girl’s discretion and matter of fact attitude. She rather thought Janet would make an excellent lady’s maid.

Jessie gasped and blushed however when Janet produced her new night apparel—an exquisite nightrail of saffron silk and lace with a matching
robe a la francais
and slippers; they were obviously additional purchases that Robert had made that afternoon. The fine, almost transparent fabric whispered over Jessie’s skin as she donned the garments. They were certainly not the plain flannel or cambric nightrails she was used to wearing to bed. She wondered what Janet would make of the daring, even scandalous attire, but thankfully the girl continued to be the epitome of discretion.

The ormolu clock on the mantel was close to striking the half hour after midnight when Janet finally departed. Jessie was curiously wide awake despite the late hour. She poured a cup of tea but she was too agitated to drink it. Her emotions leapt wildly from anger at Simon’s assault to trepidation about the potential danger Robert was in, to nervous anticipation of what would happen when Robert returned.

Unable to sit still, she eventually discarded her cup and explored Robert’s suite of rooms—she trusted he wouldn’t mind. The sitting room was richly furnished; a pair of leather wingchairs and a striped damask settee were arranged around a richly patterned Oriental hearthrug by the fireside. A sideboard, desk and bookcase in heavy oak stood at intervals between windows hung with curtains of burgundy velvet. Above the sideboard, she noticed a framed portrait of a distinguished and very handsome couple; the earl at a much younger age, perhaps in his thirties, posed beside a very beautiful young woman with an abundance of light brown curls and large solemn, blue eyes—she was presumably the late Countess of Strathburn, Robert’s mother. Jessie imagined that Robert must feel her absence terribly, just as she missed her own mother.

Through a communicating door, she discovered a dressing room, largely empty save for a few items of Robert’s clothing and a wooden travelling trunk. Another door at the end of the dressing room led into Robert’s bedchamber. The fire flickering in the grate revealed an enormous four-poster bed, hung with curtains of dark golden damask. The bed was covered with a rich gold and cream brocade counterpane and an abundance of fat ivory silk pillows lay against the ornately carved headboard. It looked sumptuous.

Tempting.

Someone, perhaps Janet, had also turned down the covers to reveal fine cotton sheets. Jessie had the sudden, overwhelming urge to crawl between them. Her pulse raced to think she might very well be sleeping beside Robert tonight.

But would they only be sleeping?

She smiled. If she had her own wicked way, they certainly wouldn’t.

But if Robert were to face Simon on the duelling field tomorrow … Jessie’s stomach lurched to the Turkish rug at her feet. No, she didn’t want to think about that. She had to believe Robert’s assertion that everything would be all right. That
he
would be all right.

Her exploration complete, Jessie returned to the sitting room to wait for Robert’s return. She kicked off her saffron silk slippers and settled into one of the chairs in front of the fire and sipped at the whisky Robert had poured for her earlier, hoping the fiery liquid would calm her thoughts and skittering pulse. She had just tossed back the last of the dram when she heard the door creak open.

Robert. Thank God.
Her impulse was to run to him and throw her arms about his neck but as she began to stand, Robert motioned with his hand.

‘Jessie, my love, don’t get up on my account.’

As she subsided back onto her chair, he shrugged off his velvet evening jacket and removed his lace jabot. ‘I must apologise for taking so long,’ he continued, tossing the garments onto a nearby settee. ‘But with the benefit of your canny reasoning, I needed to … adjust my plans for tomorrow. It took a little longer than I expected to set the stage but,’ the corner of his mouth tipped into a wicked grin, ‘you can be rest assured that with the help of Captain Drummond and Tobias, I will not be waylaid by any of the King’s men. With minimal risk to myself, Simon is about to be taught a valuable life lesson.’ With his shirt now open at the neck, Robert pulled up the footstool and sat in front of her. He leaned forward, his arms resting on his muscular, satin clad thighs. There was a smile in his eyes. ‘Does that ease your mind, my love?’

‘To be honest, no’ entirely,’ she replied in a voice breathless with both nerves and maddening sexual awareness. She shouldn’t be distracted by Robert’s physicality right now, but she was. Dragging her gaze away from the tantalising sight of her fiancé’s strong throat and the tanned patch of chest below, she forced herself to consider his words. His plan seemed too sketchy for her liking. ‘I canna help but be worried about you being involved in any sort of risky endeavour, given the conditions of your probation. I dinna suppose you were planning on letting me in on yer plan?’

Robert’s smile widened. ‘Suffice it to say, I think Simon will be most surprised to find that he is about to embark on a character building journey—of sorts. But not before I give him the sound thrashing he so richly deserves, of course.’