Chapter 15
THE HORSE SNORTED, and a pup raised its mangy body from the middle of the road and flattened its flea-bitten ears before slinking off.
The three of them, Luxbury in the lead and Eleanor and Keir riding side by side, had traveled all morning.
A fourth horse, laden with clothing and supplies, trailed on a long lead line attached to Keir’s saddle.
They were coming now to a small village, having missed the turn-off to the kirk Keir had mentioned.
There would be no repeated vows yet; Eleanor was disappointed.
The night before, Eleanor had drawn a reasonable picture of a brooch she’d seen Lady Beth wear on occasion.
This morning she handed it to Keir in front of Luxbury saying she only made the one drawing.
Luxbury immediately snatched the paper and declared himself to be in charge of keeping an eye out for it.
What he didn’t know was that she’d shown Keir the actual brooch earlier.
Keir had laughed at her duplicity, studied the brooch, and dropped it into her hand, lightly touching her fingers.
He promised her he’d find a way to send the captain back to England.
Without her.
“Ho!”
Luxbury yelped.
He reined in his horse.
Keir and Eleanor stopped too and Keir spoke with mock laughter in his voice, “What is it, captain? Is yer horse lame? Need ye a rest?”
Luxbury scowled at Keir, shook his head, and pointed.
Up on the ridge stood three men with rifles pointed at them.
The captain hissed at Keir, “They’re aiming at us.”
“Nay, they’re aimin’ at ye, captain.
’Tis yer red coat that riles’em.”
Keir raised his arm in a wide wave and yelled, “Guid mornin’.
Keir McKelvey of Castle Caladh.
May I have a word?”
Two of the men kept their sights on Luxbury, but the third lowered his weapon and started down the hill.
Keir dismounted, told Eleanor to keep her seat, and motioned to Luxbury to get down.
He handed his reins to Luxbury and started walking toward the other man.
Neither Eleanor nor the captain could hear the conversation when the men met halfway up the hill, but their body language put them at ease.
Luxbury put both sets of reins in one hand and moved as close as he could to Eleanor’s side, using Copper as a shield.
His face displayed disgust at the trousers Eleanor wore.
He looked up at her.
“I accept that you do not wish to be a princess or marry King George, but please know that you don’t have to run away with that heathen. Eleanor,”
he boldly touched her knee “I’ll wed you.
I have money; we can sail to America.
Lady Beth and Lord Edgeworth need not know.”
He glanced at the pack horse.
“I suppose there are dresses in that sack?”
Eleanor bent her head down enough to appear as though she meant to whisper.
Instead, she said in perfectly controlled modulation, “Bernard.
How dare you ask a married woman to run off with you.
I thank you for your help, but now perhaps it’s best if you go back to England, too.”
He stepped back as if slapped.
His previous expression changed again.
He narrowed his eyes at her and said, “I doubt your marriage has been consummated.
And even if it was, I sneaked down at midnight and burned the parchment.
You’re no better than a whore now.”
He jerked Copper’s reins in anger.
“You, dear princess, shall marry the King and then, once he’s been assassinated, you will do as we say or else,”
he cocked his head toward Keir who was finishing up with the man, “that man, your mother, your friend Hannah, and anyone else you hold dear, will die.”
He snorted and moved the horses ahead of her.
Keir walked back to them, a quivering smile playing across his lips.
“They’ll let us pass.
I explained our mission.”
He glanced at Eleanor, discerned her countenance, and looked quickly at Luxbury who turned to listen.
Keir frowned then went on, “And I described the brooch.
Asked if they’d seen a lad wearin’ it pinned to his kilt.”
He stopped speaking and scanned the ridge and then the road before them.
The men had resumed their position as lookouts.
Luxbury became impatient.
“And? Have they seen him?”
He jerked the reins as his hands expressed some exasperation.
“Speak, man!”
***
KEIR SAW HOW stretching out his words could rile the captain.
He looked up at Eleanor, sitting so straight on the back of his sister’s favorite mare.
He gave her a secret smile and she seemed to relax.
Had she been afraid for the few minutes he was a short distance from her? He finally answered the captain, “Aye, they ken the lad.
His mum lives beyond the valley, in a village called—he breathed in and out slowly—“in a village called … Auld Reekie.”
He took a few steps toward his horses, slapped the pack animal’s rump, and took Copper’s reins from Luxbury.
He mounted his horse and motioned for the captain to do the same.
“Keep going straight up the road.
It’s quite a ways.
We’ll be a’followin’ ye.
Doan fash if the lady and the pack horse slow us down.
We’ll be along.”
He allowed the captain’s horse to get a good distance ahead before he spoke to Eleanor.
“What happened, lass? Ye had the look me sister gets when me father loses his temper.
Did ye fear fer me safety as I spoke to the sentry men?”
He watched her face grow rosy.
“No, you didn’t fear them and they laid their weapons down.
It was Bernard who scared me.
He wants to wed me and take me to America.
He said he burned the parchment.”
Keir nodded his head and pulled the reins back enough to slow Copper.
The pack horse and Eleanor’s mare slowed as well.
“Aye, I figured he had the anger of a man spurned.”
He gave a gentle laugh.
“Ye’re nay thinkin’ o’ joinin’ him and runnin’ off, are ye?”
“Of course not.
I may have changed my mind about this whole plan to dethrone the king, but I shan’t change it again.”
She tightened her grip on the reins and stared at Keir.
He liked what he saw in her deliberate expression.
“Ah, lass … El, will ye marry me … ag’in?”
***
FOR ONE WHOLE second Eleanor wondered if her heart could beat its way out of her chest.
Was Keir serious? Should she scream yes? Perhaps he was joking and she should laugh.
There was no decision to make because the next second her horse stumbled and she lost her balance and nearly fell off.
“Whoa.”
Keir stopped and reached over to halt Eleanor’s mare.
“Are ye weary, lass? Shall we rest a while? The horses can graze and ye can walk a bit.”
He straightened back up and eyed the clothing Rory had lent her.
“I’ve seen ye walk aboot in men’s breeches afore when I thought ye a lad.
’Twon’t fret me none to see ye do it ag’in.”
They dismounted in tandem and led the horses to a grassy spot.
Eleanor had her heart back under control, but her mind was another matter.
She ached to know what was behind Keir’s words.
“Keir … the parchment … the marriage … it was a way to travel together, to avoid having to go through with the plan for me to become queen, and, uh, to spoil your arranged marriage to …”
“Ye’re wonderin’ if I meant it … askin’ ye to marry me.”
“It was rash of us to go through with a secret marriage … and since we never spoke the vows … I wonder,”
her eyes scanned ahead to see the captain round a corner and disappear, “I wonder if you’re asking now out of … out of rivalry with Bernard.”
Keir let go of Copper’s reins and stepped closer to her.
He said nothing, but the softening in his eyes told her what she wanted to know.
He drifted a hand across her cheek and into her hair.
Every nerve in her body leaped.
He drew her nigh, lifted her off her feet, and found her mouth.
The kiss was nothing like what she’d expected or dreamed of or ever thought possible.
His lips traced hers, and she found the answer to her question in the supple corners of his mouth, replied in the broken breath of relief that escaped between her teeth.
Warm, wet …
Thrilling …
His lips on hers … natural, perfect …
Ah … little noises escaped her throat …
And he was humming too …
Then a groan … a desire …
Her arms found their way around his broad shoulders, her bosom pressed against his chest …
She felt his whole body as if they were entwined …
Her heart danced past the beats …
She trembled as he explored her lips and shuddered when his mouth slowly released hers.
She gasped for air, as did he.
Then he whispered her name, “El … Eleanor … marry me.”
His dark eyes warmed to caramel brown in the light.
“Yes.”
***
KEIR HAD WANTED to kiss her since he’d met her, and, he realized, the desire for her had been there even when he thought she was a young lad.
Fenella once told him that when a lad met a lassie, their spirits crossed on an invisible level.
Now he believed it.
He’d been in love with Eleanor from the beginning.
And now she’d agreed to marry him, not out of necessity this time, but out of this spiritual bond they had.
Was it love? He’d do anything and everything to be with her.
Yes, he loved her.
He let his breath out in one long sigh.
Satisfied …
But Copper was straying farther away, trailed by the pack horse, of course, while the mare was nibbling grass right behind his beloved’s feet.
His beloved.
So quickly his thoughts of her had bloomed.
His lips curled into a contented smile.
Eleanor looked up the road, suddenly seeming shy.
“I wonder how far Bernard is.
Will he wait for us or go on to Auld Reekie.”
Keir chuckled and touched her face again to direct her eyes back to his.
“Auld Reekie … aye … he’ll ask fer directions and be told the way to Edinburgh.
I doan suppose ye English ken that Auld Reekie is the former name of Edinburgh.”
“So that’s not where we’re going?”
He was still holding her in his arms … feeling her heart beat, noting the heat of her breath.
It wasn’t only his soul that she stirred.
He forced his gaze from her lips as a breeze moved his hair off his forehead.
“Nay.
He’ll be searchin’ out yer family usin’ that picture ye made and lookin’ in the wrong city.”
He tossed a look back down the road where they’d come from, released her, and stepped back.
“The Scot I talked to … he directed me, but nay to Edinburgh.
At the next village, Luxbury will nay doubt head east whilst we’ll go west.
There’ll be a big surprise fer the Englishman the moment he gets to the city.
If they dinnae jail him, they’ll be sendin’ him home, banged an’ bruised.
A red coat in Edinburgh willna be respected nor tolerated.”
He turned his head toward Copper and whistled.
The horse’s head came up and he started walking toward his master.
A startled pheasant flushed out of the grass and both Eleanor and Keir laughed at Copper’s reaction.
He used his muzzle to nudge six pheasant chicks out of his path, snatched some long grasses, and chewed noisily as he led the pack horse toward Keir.
***
CAPTAIN BERNARD LUXBURY was too proud to look back.
The princess and McKelvey would follow.
If that Highlander had plans to desert him, he was certain that Eleanor would put her precious foot down and ensure that they follow the captain.
He meant what he said: he’d kill her cherished friend Hannah, the mother she hadn’t yet met, and even the Highlander.
He was confident she believed him.
He’d vacillated on his feelings for her.
He’d been quite taken with her when he first met her at Ingledew.
She was comely, innocent, and somewhat mysterious.
She wasn’t as beautiful as he’d hoped, but when he saw her again at Beldorney Hall, she had inexplicably changed.
The only word he could think of for her transformation was blossoming.
She had blossomed into an acceptably nice-looking woman.
He wouldn’t hesitate to bed her.
But now, deep into the Scottish countryside, he picked up on her distaste for him.
Was it always there? She spoke to him with cold words, averted her gaze often, and when their eyes did meet, he sensed revulsion.
Did she think him ugly? Crivens! He almost hoped she’d defy him.
He’d like to see the look on her face when he thrust a sword through that McKelvey jolterhead.
Another hour’s walk and he was bored.
They hadn’t caught up with him yet, but he wasn’t worried.
He could feel them back there.
Sometimes he heard their voices, a man’s deep tone and a woman’s tinkling laugh.
It rattled him, but he never looked back.
He’d gotten foul looks from the men he passed and a few hurled nasty insults about the crown at him.
He wished he could stop and argue the point, let the stupid Scots know he was doing something about King George.
His stomach growled and he pulled a hunk of bread from his saddle bag.
That timid little housemaid had handed it to him as they left.
It didn’t take him long to finish it and it seemed enough to stave off his hunger for a few more hours.
He urged his horse into an easy lope until he saw a peddler’s wagon on the road headed his way.
Surely this man wouldn’t curse at him; he’d want to sell his wares.
Money was money.
Bernard halted and angled his horse crosswise on the road, painted a faux smile on his face, and waited.
The peddler pulled back on his pony’s reins and stopped near enough.
He was a smallish man, wizened and wrinkled, obviously no threat to a strong young man, but Bernard was wary just the same.
“Heyo, ye be in need o’ me services, sir?”
The peddler filled in the gap between his missing front teeth with a curious tongue for the moment it took the captain to nod.
“They call me CheapJack an’ I’ve an assortment o’ necessaries ye’ll nay find elsewhere in yer travels.”
He pulled back a tattered blanket that covered most of the things in his wagon.
“Spoons, bowls, leather straps, nails, flint, knives … whiskey …”
he raised his eyebrows “… medicine to make ye sleep, heal the warts on yer fanny flaps …”
He went on naming various items he offered for sale as Bernard guided his horse closer and circled the wagon, peering at the tools and gadgets, house supplies, and diverse sundries.
He hopped down from the saddle and stepped close to the back of the wagon.
“Are ye meanin’ to buy or snatch and run? Ye ain’t said nary a word, Sassenach.”
Bernard glanced up at the peddler, startled to see a rifle pointing at his head.
His own weapons were unreachable, except for his sword, which wouldn’t win against a gun.
“Uh, uh, yes, yes, I’ve need of one thing you mentioned … but I don’t see it in your wagon.”
He inched back.
“Name it.”
Bernard focused on the old man’s face, the toothless grin, the long nasal hairs, the loud wheezing breaths the peddler took.
His own fingers twitched above the hilt of his sword, but the long barrel of the gun pointed at him sent shivers down his spine.
“I could use a flint.”
He gulped.
“’Tis a fine choice.”
The peddler kept the gun level, but reached with one hand for a flint, palmed it, and said, “Any t’ing else?”
“Information.
I need to get to Auld Reekie.
Which road do I take?”
The peddler gave a snort.
“Ye’ll pay me a tuppence fer the flint.”
Bernard found his coin purse and started to set the payment on the wagon bed.
CheapJack clucked his tongue.
“Nay.
Think me a fool? Toss it here.”
He did so and the peddler caught it, glanced briefly at the coin, and tossed back the flint.
“Ye’re on the right road, Sassenach.
I bid ye guid day and guid luck in—”
he laughed, “—Auld Reekie.”
He set the rifle down, re-covered his wares, slapped the pony’s rump, and rattled on.
Bernard remounted, scowled at the cart, shook his head, and wondered why the old fool laughed.
He stuffed the flint in his pocket, rubbed his horse’s neck, and then kicked its sides to get it going faster.
The road eventually widened, was more well-traveled, and brought him to a sight he didn’t expect.
Auld Reekie was not a small village.
He trotted down the streets of a rather bustling city comparable to his hometown of York.
Then he learned its true name: Edinburgh.
Luxbury swore.
If he’d known Auld Reekie and Edinburgh were one and the same, he wouldn’t have come.
He’d heard the tales of what they did to Englishmen who came here.
He’d have had a chance if he had his troops with him.
But here he was, sticking out in his red wool like a cardinal in the snow.
He swore even more when a force of six uniformed policemen surrounded him, disarmed him, pulled him from the saddle, and took him to a magistrate.
“These charges are false and nonsense,”
he shouted.
He argued his defense until he was as red in the face as the presiding judge, whose complexion came by its ruddy flare naturally.
“You can’t do this to me.
I’m a soldier of the crown.
And … and I’m here to help you.”
Two men stripped him of his red coat and ripped off his shirt, leaving him to stand plainly shaking in his boots.
The judge joked, “A soldier of the crown, eh? Where’s yer ruffled shirt, yer sword, yer fancy red coat?”
“I’m Captain Bernard Luxbury of the—”
“Och, we’ll add impersonatin’ an officer to the list.
’Tis not a capital offence, but carries a penalty of at least five years in prison.”
The judge caught the eye of each of the men who’d brought Luxbury in.
“Shall I be lenient, me friends?”
There were nods all around and Luxbury let his breath out in a mangled sigh of anger and relief, but then the judge said, “The fine is ten English pounds.
Have ye got it, captain?”
He snickered.
Before he could answer, one man offered to pay half a pound for his horse and another a few farthings for the uniform.
Luxbury fumed.
He had a few pounds in a money bag he’d attached to his saddle, but not enough to pay the exorbitant fine.
Ridiculous.
“I’ll not pay a penny!”
Without warning someone’s fist connected with his jaw and he fell to the floor.
Another set of hands pushed on his shoulders and held him down.
“Are you Scots imbeciles or ratbags?”
he snapped, wrenching free and shoving to his feet.
Sweat shone on his brow, and his hands were trembling.
“Well,”
the judge smirked, “ye be lucky today, Mr.
Luxbury.
I’m feelin’ kind.
We Scots havnae felt kind toward an Englishman since the battles.
Flodden.
Culloden.
Oh, and let us nay forget Bannockburn. Why, just namin’ those tragedies is wearin’ away at me kindness.”
He looked from Luxbury to two of the men who’d brought him in.
“Is the frigate Penelope yet in port?”
One spoke up in the affirmative.
“Take him there, men.
I dare say the skipper will pay his fine to have such a strong young Englishman to swab the decks and man the sails, eh?”
“Right away, sir,”
the mouthy one said.
“The Penelope sails tomorrow bound for the West Indies.”
Wide-eyed and panting, Luxbury collapsed before another Scotsman could touch him.
There was laughter all around, but he didn’t hear it.
They kicked at his ribs a few times, but he didn’t feel it. Yet.