Chapter 17
LUXBURY ROWED THE jolly boat to shore, unloaded the cargo, and rowed back and forth six more times, always under the watchful eye of the ship’s chief officer.
The righteous anger hadn’t left him.
At first, he was furious with the men who’d relieved him of his horse and uniform, then at the judge who sentenced him to an indeterminate length of time aboard a ship headed for the West Indies.
But after the brutal treatment he received from his new shipmates and the realization that his life may never again contain a single pleasurable moment, he redirected his anger into planning his escape.
And, in the back of his mind, he ultimately blamed that wretched Highlander and Eleanor herself for his present predicament.
They had never planned to follow him to Auld Reekie and were undoubtedly somewhere west or southwest of here.
The ship had barely sailed an hour before landing at another Scottish port.
Now he was on his last cargo run, watching for his chance to drop under the dock, or hide under a tarp, or run off toward the town.
He carried the final crate slowly down the dock, scanning right and left for a suitable opportunity.
He set the crate down on top of another, wiped the sweat from his brow, and turned to walk back.
The chief officer, arms folded, was staring straight at him, fifty feet up the dock.
Luxbury hoped for a distraction, like a woman screaming, but there were none at this wharf.
Or a horse rearing and upsetting a cart, but the nags he saw all looked ready to drop over dead, heads hanging low.
Or … and then it happened: an unsteady and exceedingly hefty sailor, struggling with a trunk on his back, stumbled toward the edge and slipped.
The trunk spilled into the water and the man nearly went with it. He clung, kicking and yelling, to the edge of the dock as another sailor and the chief officer himself rushed to pull him up.
Luxbury ran.
He wasn’t above stealing clothes, money, a horse.
He’d do whatever he had to do to get away from these blasted Scots and out of this country.
***
ELEANOR TRIED TO protest when Keir used the saddle blankets and a straight branch he broke from a tree to make a temporary lean-to.
The rough structure would shelter him and Colin for the night while she slept inside with Mary.
“But you could stay inside.
It won’t be improper to sleep on the floor.
Who would know?”
Eleanor frowned at Keir, a sliver of that recurring thrill beginning to creep its way through her.
The sky was darkening and she stood in the same spot where, several hours before, she had clutched her mother in their first embrace.
“Yer mum kens we’re nay properly wed.
Best we honor her house.”
Honor and manners and proper behavior were not on Eleanor’s mind.
This day was the best day of her life.
Was she not a complete woman now that she’d met the one person she owed her life to? And was she not in these high spirits due to the magnificent Highlander an arm’s reach away? She owed much to him as well.
The only thing missing was her loyal friend, Hannah.
She wanted to tell her how her heart could never be fuller than it was now.
Her mother hadn’t abandoned her after all.
She’d struggled to survive, unable to save anything to pay for passage back to Ingledew, and afraid if she did return that Lord Edgeworth would make good on his threat to have her killed.
“Keir,”
Eleanor’s voice softened, “where can I go? I cannot return to Ingledew or Beldorney Hall or Castle Caladh.
I can’t disguise myself forever.
Should I … stay here?”
Keir closed the distance between them in one stride.
He took her hands and lifted them to his mouth, covered them with kisses, and said, “El … I’ll nay leave ye fer a day or e’en fer an hour.
’Twill be hard enough sleeping out here.”
He kept their clasped hands at heart level and gave a little grunt as Colin came up the path, interrupting them.
“Sister … I’ve pulled yer things from the pack horse,”
he jostled the sack of her clothes he carried, “and ye can settle into me spot by the hearth.”
He took the things into the house.
“Aw,”
Keir smiled at the door, “he’s a wee brammer, so he is.”
Eleanor gave him a questioning look.
“He’s fallen fer yer charms, m’lady.”
He took her hands again.
“As have I.”
He gazed at her and she let the feelings wash over her.
“’Tis but a moment we have.
He’ll be out in two shakes of a lamb’s tail.”
He bent, brushed his lips across hers, and whispered a promise.
“We’ll be wed at Castle Caladh.
That’s where we’ll go.
Tomorrow.
I promise, ye’ll be safe there.”
The dulcet call of a night bird punctuated his pledge.
“El … ye’re shiverin’.
Ye needs get inside.”
She wasn’t cold, but his hands upon her arms, the way he cradled her shoulders to lead her to the door, made her shiver all the more.
Tonight she’d have time to savor the anticipation of a real wedding.
She’d barely understood the plan he’d spoken of at the kirk, had waited in the vicarage not completely absorbing the immensity of the sudden matrimonial scheme.
But now … now it wasn’t a scheme or an escape or a temporary arrangement to avoid some vile consequence.
He wanted to marry her.
And she wanted to be his bride.
They stopped at the threshold, the sounds of mother and son moving something inside muffled by the door.
Keir placed a hand on the latch, insuring it would stay closed as he kissed her lightly on the forehead.
“But what about Luxbury?”
The question escaped quicker than a mouse fleeing a broom.
“And your brothers and Hubert? What about Lord Edgeworth? I’m certain my patron was to gain something from my royal lineage.”
“Do ye ken Luxbury well? Will he hunt ye down, ye think?”
“I don’t know.”
“Ye’ve burned yer papers.
Only yer mum kens yer lineage.
Ye’re naught but me own secret princess, El.”
He lifted her chin with his right hand, pressed a better kiss onto her lips, lingered there a moment.
“Ye’d best go inside.”
He paused, then took her hand and placed it over the one he held on the latch.
“I love ye, El.
Ye are me special person and I am yers.
I want ye to ken that, for the rest of our lives, whatever door we come to, we will open it together.”
With that he, and she, pushed opened the door and Eleanor stepped in.
Two heads turned.
“Ahh,”
Mary said, “the boy’s ready.
He’ll bring some coals to start a fire.
There be the last bits of split wood beside the house.”
Eleanor turned and gave Keir a modest smile, her heart still trying to settle down from this new excitement that seemed to flip her insides and twist her gut.
Colin shuffled out the door behind Keir and she sighed as it closed.
Mary stood grinning at her.
Eleanor noticed the straw mattress from the bed had been dragged to the floor.
“Yes,”
Mary said, “ye’ll be sharin’ the mattress with me, close to the fire.
I can’t have a princess sleepin’ on Colin’s dirty pallet.”
The smaller, thinner mat had been pushed to a corner.
Eleanor scoffed.
“No longer a princess.”
She waved a hand to dismiss the subject.
“Colin called me ‘sister.’ Are you going to tell him the truth?”
“Never.
There’s no point.
I love him as me own and he loves me.
It would hurt him to know the whole truth.
But I told him a version of it, that I was widowed before I met his pa.
That’s true enough.
And that you were born of that union and left behind with me sister. Truth again. He’ll have more questions and I think I can satisfy his curiosity without too much lyin’. But I’ll never tell him he came from another woman’s womb.”
She shrugged her shoulders and began to undress.
She pulled on a plain shift and laid her day clothes on a chair.
Eleanor enjoyed the instant intimacy.
She felt as comfortable with Mary as she did with Hannah.
She removed the dress she’d worn.
To her mother she said, “This isn’t mine.
Keir’s sister, Rory, lent it to me.
All my things I had to leave behind at Beldorney Hall.
I can only hope my friend Hannah has taken charge of the trunks and I’ll be able to return this to Rory.”
She laid the dress across a chair and shook the dust off the bottom hem.
“Tell me more about this Hannah.
I’m glad you have someone you can trust.”
Mary threw a log on the fire and straightened the blankets on the mattress.
“My own sister … half-sister … is, I’m afraid, more loyal to her husband’s ambitions than to me.
But when you marry …”
her voice trailed off in forgiveness.
She knelt down on the mattress and patted the space next to her, a clear indication for Eleanor to join her.
“When you marry?”
Eleanor repeated the question, prompting her.
“Mm-hm.
You’ll see.
When you love a man … well, you never lose by loving him, unless you hold back.”
She reached over and pushed a strand of Eleanor’s hair behind her ear.
“And I see that you and Keir have something … something that you will always treasure.
I’m sure he loves you passionately and will protect you fiercely.
That’s all you need.”
Eleanor stared into the flames and contemplated her mother’s words.
***
KEIR SAT IN the night shade alert to the sleeping lad’s steady breathing, taking in the fragrance of honeysuckle, and ignoring the tree frogs and crickets calling to one another.
His stomach was churning, not from the rather thin fish soup they’d eaten, but from the thoughts of the immediate future.
He wanted to spend the rest of his life with Eleanor, no question, and he wanted that life to start as soon as possible.
As husband and wife.
A Bible passage from the Song of Solomon his mother used to quote echoed in his mind: I have found the one whom my soul loves.
Eleanor was his heart, his life, his first thought.
He loved her with all his soul.
But Eleanor’s questions hovered around that first thought and were upsetting him.
What about Luxbury? And how could he make her leave her mother so soon after she finally found her? And then there was the MacLeod clan to deal with when they returned to Castle Caladh.
Blasted Anabel.
Perhaps he shouldn’t take Eleanor there yet.
There’d be repercussions from the MacLeods.
No sense stewing about it, his practical side scolded him.
Then the right answer came to him.
There was plenty of room at the castle.
Rory had said she was to marry soon; she would welcome the extra help from Eleanor and Mary.
The castle would be bustling with wedding preparations — a happy time.
His father, even if he objected, wouldn’t do anything to spoil his youngest daughter’s wedding season.
Why couldn’t he bring Mary and Colin back with them? Who could object to that? His father was old, but not so old he wouldn’t find Mary attractive.
Some new clothes, a long bath, a little help from the maids in making her look like the mother of a princess — which she was, though they’d have to suppress that fact — ah, he thought as he closed his eyes, a good plan.
All will work out.
***
LUXBURY RODE ALL night long on his stolen gelding.
He was tired and hungry, but still angry.
He was smart enough to hide his English accent, dropping his g’s and using ye instead of you when he encountered anyone on his journey.
When he came upon a lone rider, a drunken horseman, he relieved the poor bloat of his coat, hat, pistol and a small coin purse.
He took the horse too, but what did he need with two? After a mile he dropped the reins and left the animal to forage at will.
By dawn he’d reached a familiar stretch of road.
He was careful not to take the fork to Edinburgh—Auld Reekie be damned—and to go more slowly, determined to deduce the Highlander’s route.
***
KEIR SPENT MUCH of the night lying awake staring at the stars, imagining Eleanor so close, sleeping in the house.
Well after dawn he was startled out of a doze by the rustle of leaves under the feet of a young lad wielding Keir’s own claidheamh mòr.
“Colin!”
he shouted, his voice reminding him of his own father’s quick temper.
He took a breath and rose, assessing the boy’s strength and form.
“Och, ye’ve a natural talent.”
He chuckled at the memory of his nephew Huey barely able to hold the heavy sword above his head.
Colin resumed slicing the air and grimacing at imaginary foes.
“A wider stance, lad, and put yer shoulder into it.
Aye, that’s it.”
He’d teach him later about not touching another man’s sword.
He gave him a few more instructions before walking toward the creek to check on the horses, relieve himself, and splash some cold water on his face.
When he stepped back from the creek, he found a clump of wintergreen and pulled off a few leaves, chewed the flavor out and spit them onto the ground.
He turned to find Eleanor coming toward him with a bucket.
She was wearing breeches again and her hair was swinging freely to her shoulders.
He didn’t think he’d find her any more beautiful if her hair was longer; most women wore it braided and wound against their heads anyway.
He rather liked this unconventional style.
“Ah,”
he smiled, glad he’d freshened his breath, “’tis me bonnie bride-to-be.”
He took the bucket from her and filled it.
He put his other arm around her shoulder and said, “Did ye sleep well, me princess?”
“I tossed and turned a bit.
I’m afraid I kept my mother up half the night.”
She smiled up at him and they started up the path together.
“I call her Mother.
It thrills me almost as much as …”
she paused, averting her eyes “well, we talked and talked and … and I’ll be so sad to leave her …”
She peered up at him again and this time her facial expression reminded him of his sisters and how they’d grieved at their mother’s passing.
“Och, ye’ll nay be fashin’ over a sad departure.
I, too, was up half the night, a’thinkin’.
If it pleases her and the lad, I’m offerin’ a home fer’em … at Castle Caladh.
The lad told me they have no ties here.”
Eleanor stopped him in his tracks and hugged him tightly.
***
LUXBURY GROWLED TO himself when he saw three horses coming his way.
One was heavily laden with packs and the others bore two riders each, a large man in front wearing a kilt of a familiar green pattern.
Luxbury crouched over his horse’s neck, pulled the purloined hat further down his forehead, and turned off onto a side path.
He went a couple hundred feet before looking back.
Yes, he was right to suspect the Highlander was McKelvey.
He scowled over his shoulder, glad to give the man nothing to see but his backside.
When McKelvey raised an arm in friendly greeting, Luxbury returned the gesture, certain he wasn’t recognized in these rags, slouched as he was, his face mostly hidden.
He lowered his arm and kept staring back.
Ah, there was Eleanor.
His heart thumped an extra beat at the sight of her, then his skin prickled to see how brazen she was to ride astride.
And so close up against McKelvey.
Waves of heat ran over him.
He tore his eyes away from her and studied the other two people.
He could well guess who they were.
He nudged the horse to keep moving.
The Scotsman and his new family continued on and Luxbury circled back, intent on following at a distance.
No doubt they were headed to Castle Caladh.
Sooner or later, they’d have to stop and he’d make his move, shoot the Highlander, steal away Eleanor, and figure out their future once he got her over the border to England.