Chapter 16
The Aunties were absolutely insufferable that morning when Eleanor discovered, through overhearing some servants’ gossip, that the Captain of the Guard had been seen leaving Laura’s bedchamber.
Fenella clapped her hands and chuckled gleefully when she heard the news. “I knew it!” she cried. “Everything is working out just as we planned, Ellie!”
“Indeed it is!” Eleanor agreed, grinning. “Should we tell Charlotte?”
Fenella shook her head. “No, let’s speak to the lady herself first.”
“I agree, I want to know every last detail,” Eleanor said eagerly.
“Hmmm…” Fenella looked uncharacteristically thoughtful for a moment. “Perhaps not every detail, dear! There are some things she will want to keep to herself.”
“I suppose so.” Eleanor looked sad. “Pity, though. I would like to know if Nick is as impressive as I think he is in terms of—inches.”
Fenella pretended to be outraged for a moment, then she gave her friend a playful punch on the shoulder. “Ellie!” she cried. “Even I am not brave enough to ask a question like that!” Still giggling, they left Fenella’s parlour and made a beeline for Laura’s chamber.
Laura had just bathed and dressed and was about to have breakfast, but was stopped from doing so by a loud knocking at her bedroom door. When Flora answered, the two friends almost barged into her room and shooed away the indignant maidservant.
“What is going on here?” Laura demanded, annoyed at their rudeness.
“That is exactly what we would like to know!” Eleanor answered. “We heard that Nick was in here last night. Is it true?”
“And if he was?” Laura asked indignantly. “What business is it of yours?”
“We just wanted to make sure all was well with you, Laura.” Fenella’s voice was soothing. “He has upset you before, dear.”
“I am fine,” Laura replied firmly. The two Aunties were as transparent as a sheet of glass, and she could see right through their story to the truth behind it.
There may have been an element of concern in their enquiries, but she knew that their real motive was to make a match between her and Nicholas.
She had no objection to this, of course, but she had no idea how he felt about her in his heart, and did not wish him to be forced into anything against his will.
“Good!” Eleanor linked arms with Fenella and smiled at Laura. “I am very hungry. I am sure you are too, Laura—for food, of course!” The look she bestowed on her was one of pure wickedness, and Laura sighed and shook her head.
The Aunties had raised meddling to an art form!
Kenneth and his steward were working on some complicated estate accounts when they were interrupted by one of the guards who had been stationed at the castle gates.
“M’Laird,” he said, saluting smartly, “there is a party o’ Englishmen outside that want tae speak tae ye.”
Kenneth frowned and got to his feet. “How many?” he asked.
“Four o’ them,” the guard answered. “One civilian an’ three soldiers. They were armed but the Captain has taken a’ their weapons off them.”
Kenneth glanced at his steward. David McPherson was an ex-soldier who knew how to defend himself, and he nodded approvingly.
“Tell them I will be with them in a moment,” he ordered.
“I can finish this on my own,” McPherson said, standing. “This sounds serious. Let me know if there is anything I can do, my Laird.”
“Thank you, I will,” Kenneth said, before heading out to the courtyard. He had an awful sense of foreboding; something serious was looming, and it was not good.
The men were standing just inside the gate, the red uniforms of the soldiers blazing against the grey background of the granite walls.
They were ringed by the Cairnlochan guards who were watching them like hawks, their hands resting on their sword hilts.
Nicholas stood among them, radiating authority and looking every inch the commanding officer that he was.
When Kenneth approached them, his men saluted him, and to his surprise the English soldiers did likewise.
A sturdy dark man in his middle years came forward and bowed to Kenneth, then said: “My Laird Grant, I am very pleased to meet you. I am Arthur Fielding, and I am a lawyer representing the Whitcombe family.”
Kenneth nodded in acknowledgement, although he had never heard the name before, then straightened, squared his shoulders and tilted his chin up. He was a good six inches taller than Fielding, and used his height to full advantage to intimidate the man as he looked down his nose at him.
“You wished to speak to me?” he asked.
“I did,” Fielding answered, “but in private, my Laird. It is quite a sensitive matter.”
Kenneth frowned as he studied the other man, and the feeling of impending doom deepened: something about the Englishman irritated him on a visceral level.
Yet he had to know what the sensitive matter was.
He nodded and said: “Come with me.” He beckoned Nicholas to join them before turning and leading the other man inside, where they made their way to his study.
Once they were all seated, Kenneth leaned forward across his desk and stared at Fielding in his most intent, intimidating manner. “Tell me why you are here,” he ordered.
The Englishman was made of sterner stuff than Kenneth had anticipated. Sitting stiff and erect in his chair, he held his gaze and said: “It concerns a young lady called Laura Whitcombe. We have heard that she is living in this castle, we presume under a false name.
“This young woman was rejected by her fiancé for reasons that unfortunately I cannot disclose. She was driven out by her family for the same reason, and fled from London. We think she came here. Her fiancé had a change of heart and wanted to give her a second chance, but—” he broke off as Kenneth thumped the desk with the flat of his hand.
“Even if she were here,” he said angrily, “I would not hand her over to a family who cast her out. She left of her own free will. Who am I to go against her? She does not belong to me.”
“I understand,” Fielding said. “But there is more that I have to tell you.”
“Go on,” Kenneth said impatiently. “I am a busy man.” He was feeling deeply unsettled, having recognised at least part of Laura’s name, but was hiding his feelings under a cloak of irritation.
“This is not going to be pleasant for you to hear, my Laird,” Fielding warned.
“I think I can bear it,” Kenneth replied. “I’m sure I have heard worse.”
Fielding gave him a doubtful look and said: “Very well.” He took a deep breath. “Laura Whitcombe is accused of murdering a Scottish barmaid and stealing her baby by an esteemed officer. She stabbed her at the inn where she worked.”
Kenneth froze, utterly stunned for a few seconds before he looked up at Nicholas. His normally genial expression had disappeared, to be replaced by one of astonishment, which quickly turned to shock.
“Captain,” Kenneth said. “Go back to your men.”
Nicholas’s eyes sparked with fury, but he said nothing more. He saluted briskly and left. Kenneth turned back to Fielding.
“And why would she do such a thing?” he asked.
“Perhaps because she wanted the child,” Fielding answered, shrugging. “But I really do not know, you will have to ask her yourself if she is here.” He looked pointedly at Kenneth, silently challenging him.
Kenneth stood up. “I have never heard of the woman,” he said, with a thunderous frown. “Now get out of here, you have wasted enough of my time.”
“But—” Fielding began, but again Kenneth cut him off.
“Enough!” He cried. “Get out of my sight.”
Kenneth opened the door and accompanied the Englishman outside.
“I am staying at The Bruce in the village,” Fielding informed Kenneth, his tone coldly polite. “If you need me.”
Kenneth said nothing more, but watched as the party was shown out of the gates. He recalled what Nicholas had said before about having no memory of Laura at all. If Fielding was telling the truth this would explain everything.
Laura’s heart was filled with the tenderest love as she looked down into the face of the tiny sleeping baby in her arms. Andrew was obviously dreaming, since his eyes were moving from side to side behind his eyelids, and he was making adorable little cooing sounds.
‘I love you so much,’ she thought, astonished by the ferocity of the emotion. She wondered what an infant who was only a few weeks old could possibly be dreaming about, but her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door opening, and she looked up to see Nicholas.
“Good morning again,” Laura said, smiling at him. However, the smile faded as she saw the thunderous frown on his face, and she felt a rush of fear as he strode across the room to stand a foot away from her, glaring down at her threateningly.
Abruptly, Nicholas reached out and seized her upper arms then began to shake her, causing Andrew to whimper in distress.
“Stop!” Laura cried furiously. “You are upsetting the baby! What’s wrong with you?”
“Is this really my child?” Nicholas demanded. “Tell me the truth!”
“Of course he is!” Laura twisted out of Nicholas’s grip. “You know he is!”
“And are you his mother?” he asked. “Or is his real mother the woman you murdered?”
Laura’s eyes widened in shock, and she gasped as the full force of the accusation hit her, then she felt herself flush crimson as a wave of rage swept over her. “I have not murdered anyone!” she yelled. “Who told you this?”
“That does not matter,” Nicholas growled. “I want the truth! What is your real name?”
Laura did not answer at once, since she was trying to calm the baby down, rocking him gently in her arms and making soft soothing sounds. As she did so, her mind was racing frantically as she tried to come up with another explanation of her circumstances.
However, she realised that the only course of action she could take now was to tell the truth. Her shoulders slumped and tears pricked her eyes as she looked down at the child whom she loved with her whole heart. Yet he was not hers, and never would be.
“Then here it is,” she answered with a resigned sigh. “My name is Laura Whitcombe, and I used to live in London. I was betrothed to the son of an Earl, but I made the mistake of falling in love with someone else of a much lower status—a tradesman.
“When I knew I would have to make a choice between my lover and my betrothed, we were discovered—caught in the act by my fiancé.
He told my family he wanted nothing more to do with me and ended the engagement.
My family was so outraged they disowned me and cast me out, so I took all my savings, sold almost all my jewellery and whatever else of value that I possessed, and left.
“I travelled to Scotland because it is much cheaper to live here. I had heard of some other women who came here then met and married good men.” She paused for a moment to collect her thoughts, then went on.
“I wandered around and ended up staying at the inn. That is where Crowley found me. The rest you know.” She stopped for a second and she feared that the look in Nicholas’ eyes would turn worse after she spilled the last seed of truth.
“I am not the baby’s real mother. She was the barmaid from the inn, and her name was Mairi.
She was very ill. I am not sure what her problem was, but I think it was some complication of the birth, and she begged me to take the baby to you.
I had nothing to do with her death. I swear to it on my life. ”
Nicholas felt a jumble of mixed emotions, the chief of which was rage. He remembered Mairi very vaguely, and he felt deeply ashamed that he had not known that the child she was carrying was his.
Why had she not told him? Was she afraid of him?
However, it was too late to worry about it now.
He looked at Andrew, who had now settled down again and was sleeping peacefully in Laura’s arms, then at Laura herself.
The expression on her face was infinitely loving—but was that real?
She had not carried the baby in her womb, and every word she had told him about herself was a lie.
How could he ever believe anything she said again?
He reached across and gently took the baby from Laura’s arms. “This is my child,” he said firmly.
“I will raise him and see that he has a full and happy life. As for you, Laura whatever-your-name-is, I never want to see you again.” He raked her with a glance from head to foot that was loaded with scorn.
He would have felt better if she had shouted at him and called him filthy names, but Laura merely nodded slowly and said: “I understand.”
She bent down to place a soft kiss on Andrew’s forehead and paused to look into his face for a moment then left. “Goodbye, little one,” she said softly. Her face showed no emotion, but she was weeping sorely inside, knowing that she was saying goodbye to both of the people she loved most forever.
Nicholas heard the sound of the door closing quietly behind her and realised that he would never see Laura again. Then he felt a stabbing pain in his chest, and there was an almighty crack as his heart broke into a thousand pieces.