A Hint of Heather

  The master mason had been born in Florence but he had spent most of his early years in London where his father was master mason to Sir Christopher Wren. Vincenzio had apprenticed under his father and become a master mason himself. Neil had known him for years. They had met in London while he was serving his own apprenticeship under Wren.

  “We’ll need to reinforce the north wall,” Neil pointed to the wall. “The mortar’s crumbling along the entire section and I would like to remove a portion of the eastern wall of the chapel and add another stained glass window. Something with lambs and children,” he said, glancing at the other scenes depicted in the colored glass. “To illustrate God’s love as well as his wrath. And the leading on the near section of the roof will have to be replaced.” He turned to Vincenzio and found the mason bent over his notes. “So,” Neil continued, “you journeyed to that village before you came here. What did you do there?”

  “Where?” Vincenzio asked.

  “The village you were sent to before you came here.”

  Vincenzio looked puzzled. “There was no other village. We were sent to Glen Innes and here we are.”

  “You must be mistaken. The village you were sent to was only a half a day’s journey from Fort Augustus and we’re much deeper into the highlands than that.” It was Neil’s turn to be confused.

  Vincenzio laughed. “Oh no, my friend, you are the one who is mistaken. Your village and Glen Innes are one and the same. Fort Augustus is just around that bend and beyond those hills. If the crenellations weren’t in danger of crumbling beneath our feet, we could probably see it from the wall walks. Neil? Neil, where are you going?” The master mason stood open-mouthed as his friend cursed and walked away.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  “When did you plan to tell me?” he demanded. “Or did you plan to make me more of a fool by keeping me in the dark forever?”

  Jessalyn started at the fury in her husband’s voice. He had stormed into the castle shouting her name, demanding to know where the MacInnes was. She had met him at the threshold to her father’s study and Neil had taken hold of her elbow and guided her back inside the room, slamming the door behind him with such force that it shook the frame.

  Her heart seemed to tighten in her chest. Had he heard the news already? Had someone told him that his fellow Englishmen were coming for him? She took a deep breath and faced him. “I don’t know what yer talkin’ aboot!”

  “Liar!” Neil barred his teeth in a semblance of a smile. Her Scottish burr gave her away. It thickened her speech in moments of passion and extreme emotion. “You know exactly what I’m talking about!”

  Jessalyn recoiled from his harsh epithet as if he had slapped her and bitter tears stung her eyes. “I dinna. Truly, Neil, I dinna.”

  The red cloud of anger lifted in the split-second that Neil saw the sheen of unshed tears sparkle in her eyes, then descended again with a vengeance when he remembered how she’d tricked him the morning he’d been brought to the village. You’re deep in the highlands. In a village far removed from Fort Augustus. “Glenaonghais.” He heard the word in his mind and repeated it aloud, remembering the way she had said it the one time she’d slipped and called the village by name. The people of Glenaonghais have struggled so hard to survive and to put the memories behind them that I dare not risk their peace of mind or your safety by allowing you or your men to wear your uniforms. “That’s what I’m talking about. Glenaonghais. Glen Innes to Sassenachs like me who don’t speak the Scottish tongue. You remember the village deep in the highlands, far removed from Fort Augustus? It turns out that Glenaonghais is a mere half a day’s ride from Fort Augustus. You lied to me, Countess!”

  “I dinna know ye then!”

  “What about now, Countess?” he demanded. “What about last night? Or the night before? Or the night before that? How many nights would you have shared my pillow before you trusted me enough to tell me that Fort Augustus was so close?”

  The tears began to fall in earnest, silently gliding down Jessalyn’s cheeks, staining them with a silvery trail. “I don’t know.”

  “Why?” he asked.

  “I lied to you,” she said. “What difference does it make now why I did it?”

  “Why?” he asked once more.

  Jessalyn hung her head. “At first, I was afraid that if ye knew how close Fort Augustus was, ye’d escape and bring the army down around our heads. And then I was afraid that ye’d abandon me.”

  He stared at her so surprised that for a moment he couldn’t speak. He let go of her elbow and dropped his hand to his side. “I married you,” he said, at last. As if that explained everything. “I stood in a chapel before a priest and made promises to you.”

  “Aye,” Jessalyn agreed. “And then ye told me that they were temporary. That I should know that you had a life in London before you took up your commission in the army. That ye still have obligations there and plans of yer own.”

  “I told you the truth,” he said. “Because I thought you should know from the beginning that even though your clan had abducted me, even though we exchanged wedding vows, I was a major in His Majesty’s Army and my stay in Scotland was temporary. Like it or not, I have obligations from my life in London that must be attended to.”

  “Aye,” Jessalyn spat out the word. “Like yer mistress Deborah!”

  He was stunned. More stunned than if she’d hit him over the head with Auld Tam’s battle axe. “Where did you hear about Deborah?”

  “You called me by her name the first time you kissed me!”

  “Did I?” He remembered the kiss, but he had completely forgotten the words that accompanied it. It struck him then that the MacInnes was jealous. Cat-eyed green with it. Of Deborah. He caught himself before he grinned in satisfaction. Except for including the terms of settlement they had agreed upon and an approximate size comparison for the seamstress to go by in his letter to his grandfather, he hadn’t thought of Deborah at all since his marriage. He had had no reason, nor any inclination to think of her when his mind was filled with thoughts of the MacInnes.

  “Aye, ye did! And then ye told everybody there that she was yer mistress!”

  “She was.” He couldn’t argue the point.

  “Ye were betrothed to me!”

  “At the time, I didn’t know I was betrothed.” He cast her a sharp gaze. “And neither did you.”

  “Ye would have!” Jessalyn insisted. “If ye’d tended to yer important papers half as well as ye tended to Deborah.”

  He did smile then, “If I had tended to my important papers instead of tending to Deborah I wouldn’t be married to you.”

  “That’s why I didn’t tell ye the truth about Fort Augustus,” Jessalyn whispered. “Because I knew ye’d rather be with her in London than here in Scotland with me.”

  Neil raked his hand through his hair and blew out a breath of air. “That might have been true once before I kissed you,” he said softly. “But it hasn’t been true since.”

  “You kissed me the first time we met.”

  “Aye,” he answered in his best Scots burr. “So I did.”

  “Kiss me now,” she ordered.

  He obliged by kissing her thoroughly. And when he finished, he stepped back and looked down at her. “I can kiss you and still be angry with you.”

  “Are ye?”

  He nodded. “I’m bloody furious, not because you lied to me, but because you risked your life and the lives of the members of your clan by keeping me here so close to the fort. You should have retreated deeper into the highlands where Spotty Oliver cannot find you.”

  “What’s Spotty Oliver? I dinna understand.”

  “My commanding officer Major General Sir Charles Oliver will send troops after me and he won’t stop until he finds me and he’ll destroy anyone who stands in his way. He’s the reason Tam had to cut me free. He’s the reason Sergeant Marsden and Corporal Stanhope are married to your kinswomen. I cannot risk putting their lives in danger or yours. Because when he f
inds me—if he finds me, he intends to hang me.”

  Jessalyn’s face lost its color. “Why? What did ye do that was so terrible?”

  “I dared to question his authority.”

  The MacInnes let out a sigh of relief. “Is that all?”

  Neil frowned at her. “What happened to the men who questioned your father’s authority during times of war?”

  “They were punished.” She looked down at her feet, unable to meet his gaze.

  “How were they punished?” Neil insisted.

  “By banishment,” she whispered. “Or by death.”

  “Exactly.”

  Jessalyn reached for his shirt front and grabbed hold of the ruffles. “You must take Auld Tam and Alisdair and Dougal and Flora and Magda and Marsden and Stanhope and go to the Munros. He may not have supported the king over the water, but Laird Munro won’t refuse you passage across his land and into the hills. Please, Neil, go now!”

  “Why?”

  “A runner from Glen Craig arrived earlier this afternoon. They’ve spotted English soldiers. They’re on their way here—to Glenaonghais. They followed the caravan from Edinburgh.”

  “What were you planning to do? Hide me in the Laird’s Trysting Room?” he asked.

  Jessalyn bit her lip in a slight hesitation, then shook her head. “No. I planned to have Tam take you onto Munro land and keep you there.”

  “And now, you want me to take him instead. What part of your plan has changed?”

  “I told you about it,” she answered honestly. “Please, milord, you must do it. You know the Ancient Gentlemen and Magda and Flora are the ones who raided Fort Augustus. What would happen to them if General Oliver found out?”

  “They’ll be arrested at the least, tried and executed at most.”

  Jessalyn began to shake all over.

  Neil took hold of her shoulders in a gentle grip meant to steady her and give her strength. “You take them, Mac. You take the clan and as much of the supplies and livestock as you can and hide in the hills. I’ll stay here and face Spotty Oliver.”

  “It took us nearly two days to unload the bailey and herd the livestock into the enclosures. We don’t have enough people or time to gather supplies and drive the livestock into the hills and I won’t leave them to be slaughtered by the English. And if you stay, Sergeant Marsden and Corporal Stanhope will stay and if they stay Flora and Magda will stay and I’ll not have their blood on my conscience.” Jessalyn refused to give in. “After searching every village and glen in the highlands lookin’ for ye, he willna show any of us any mercy.”

  “He’ll have what he wants. I’ll be waiting for him. Here. Alone.” He stared at Jessalyn. “The clan will be saved from retribution if I tell him I escaped from my quarters and discovered Glenaonghais on my own.”

  “If I do as ye ask, what do ye think I’ll find when I return?” Jessalyn asked, her voice quivering with emotion. “My husband hanging from a gibbet in the courtyard of my castle? And what of Sergeant Marsden and Corporal Stanhope? Once he has ye, do ye think that yer General Oliver will allow them to remain here wi’ their wives? Do ye think he’ll just let us be?”

  “He’ll have to,” Neil insisted. “I’ll make it part of the parcel of my surrender.”

  Jessalyn smiled a sad smile. Neil Claremont, seventh earl of Derrowford, had the heart and the courage and the soul of a highland warrior and she loved him to the last fiber of her being, but at times, she thought in a surge of irritation, he was so thoroughly, arrogantly English. “Do ye honestly think a mon like that will honor such a bargain?”

  “He’ll have no choice. I’m a fellow officer and gentleman. A belted earl and peer of the realm.”

  “Barefooted and wearing a Scottish plaid. How little ye know about the English army or its gentlemen officers! Honor has nothing to do wi’ this. He wants to hang you, Neil. He wants revenge. As far as Spotty Oliver is concerned, you’re a traitor.”

  She was right. Neil knew it. He’d always known it. He had even admitted as much to her on their wedding night, but until he had heard the MacInnes speak the words, he had chosen to ignore the fact that the enmity Spotty Oliver felt for him might very well cost him his life. Neil let his arms fall to his sides in a gesture of defeat. “What would you have me do?”

  “I promised I would send a runner to the Munros to warn them of the English soldiers,” she said. “Take Tam and the others and go. You’ll have plenty of time to warn them.”

  “We’ve been raidin’ the Munros on a regular basis. What if the Munro laird decides to turn us over to the English?”

  “He won’t.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  Jessalyn smiled. “Because the Munro was married to Dougal’s sister.”

  “We’ve been stealing from Dougal’s in-laws?”

  “Aye. In a roundabout sort of way,” she said. “We’ve been stealing back what they stole from us.”

  Neil laughed. “And we’re all just one big happy family.”

  “Aye.”

  They exchanged heated glances and Neil was reminded of the fact that she was sending him to safety and preparing to face a column of English soldiers alone. “Where will you be while I’m safely ensconced in the hills?”

  “I’ll be here. Glenaonghais is mine and I canna allow the English to destroy it.”

  He stared down at her beautiful face filled with such determination and foolhardy highland courage. “I’ll go with Tam and the others to the Munros, but I’m coming back.”

  “You mustn’t.”

  “I’m coming back,” he repeated. “You may be the MacInnes, but you’re my wife and will one day be the mother of my children. I will not leave you unprotected. I won’t allow you to face Spotty Oliver alone.”

  Jessalyn smoothed the front of her gown and straightened to her full height. “The soldiers won’t arrive until morning,” she said. “Get the others to safety and I’ll join you as soon as I can.”

  Neil shook his head. “I’ll be back by dark. Meet me in the Laird’s Trysting Room. We’ll be safe there for the night and we’ll face whatever the morning brings together.”

  “All right,” she agreed.

  He leaned down and kissed her. “Until tonight.”

  “Until tonight,” she promised, crossing her fingers and hiding her hands in the folds of her skirt, safely out of Neil’s line of vision.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  “Brace yerself, laddie,” Auld Tam muttered to Neil as the MacInnes party left the relative safety of the brush and crossed a stretch of open ground along the border of MacInnes and Munro lands. “Yer about to come face-to-face with the Munro and he’s been sampling the barrels.”

  Neil looked up as the Munro and seven of his clansmen mounted on sturdy highland ponies entered the clearing. The Munro was recognizable by his beetle brow and his ruddy complexion as well as the brooch he wore pinned to his dark plaid and the eagle feathers stuck at a rakish angle in his bonnet. He was also the oldest man there, older than Tam, though he wore his age very well. Neil narrowed his gaze as the Munro nudged his pony forward and rode in for a closer look. He greeted his kinsman Dougal first, then Tam and Alisdair according to their rank. He nodded to Magda and Flora, dismissing them after one glance and completely ignoring Stanhope and Marsden.

  He rode up to Neil, leaned forward in his saddle and bellowed, “I’m Lachlan Munro and yer trespassin’ on my land.”

  Neil recognized a thrown gauntlet when he saw one. “We’re on MacInnes land.” The Munro’s breath was flavored with whisky and his plaid reeked of oak and peat. Neil met the old laird’s gaze without flinching. “If anyone is trespassing it’s you. You trailed us for over an hour before you doubled back onto your land and decided to show yourself.”

  Lachlan Munro threw back his head and laughed. “Ye must be the MacInnes’s Sassenach husband.”

  “Neil Claremont,” he said. “The MacInnes sent us to warn you that English soldiers are headed for MacInnes and Munro la
nd.”

  “Weel, Neil Claremont, it appears to me that although he’s wearing a kilt, an English soldier,” he emphasized the word, “is already on my land.”

  “I’m not your enemy.”

  “That’s fer me to decide, laddie,” the Munro said. “And we trailed ye fer two hours, but only out of curiosity. Ye maun be here requestin’ permission to take yerself and yer companions across my land. I canna think why ye would need so many companions if ye’d come only to present me with another proposition.”

  “I am here at the request of the MacInnes to ask your permission to escort the Ancient Gentlemen of Clan MacInnes and their families across your land to the hills where they’ll be safe.”

  “Do ye not seek safety fer yerself as well?” The wily old man asked. “From what I hear, yer the mon the English are after.”

  “For myself, I seek permission to cross your land twice—going and returning. The MacInnes is waiting for me back at Castle MacAonghais.”

  The Munro nodded. “Then ye’ve not taken the coward’s way and chosen to hide behind yer woman’s skirts.”

  Neil looked the man in the eye. “I cannot say that in other circumstances, I might not choose to hide behind my woman’s skirts,” he said. “But I’ll not be leaving the MacInnes alone to defend her land at the point of an English sword wielded by my enemy.”

  “Aboot yer first proposition …” The Munro paused for effect. “I gave Tam my answer days ago. But at the time, I dinna know the measure of the man proposin’ it. And, of course at the time, yer circumstances hadna changed and ye were a much poorer clan. I understand that they’ve recently improved.”

  “Greatly improved,” Neil replied.

  “Then the MacInnes willna need to raid my herds any longer.”

  Neil shrugged his shoulders. “I will not speak for the MacInnes on that matter for I understand that raiding is a way of life in the highlands. But I’ve no doubt that when the MacInnes feels she’s recovered her losses, she’ll turn her attention elsewhere.”