Mask of Duplicity (The Jacobite Chronicles Book 1) (31 page)

“Aye, although Donald doesna’ ken for certain. It seems awfu’ strange that a pack of English soldiers should be strolling aimlessly around a barren rocky hill in the pouring rain, though. And Davy did say as they made straight for the area where the cave was, moving wi’ a purpose.”

Duncan whistled through his teeth.

“Christ,” he said. “I canna believe it. What’s the world coming to, when first smugglers’ll break their honour, and then your own clansmen?”

“We dinna know for certain what’s happened yet,” Alex pointed out. “I need someone to go and find out. It should be me, as chieftain, but I canna leave London again so soon without attracting suspicion.”

“I’ll go,” volunteered Angus. His brothers looked at him, their faces twin masks of disbelief. Duncan opened his mouth, and Alex, hearing the tactless words before they were uttered, leapt in.

“No, man, I need ye here, doing what you do best, talking in taverns, finding out where our supporters might be found and how ready they are to rise if it comes to it. No, Duncan, it’ll have tae be you. I’m sorry, you’ve only just now got back.”

Duncan nodded. “It doesna signify,” he said. “I’ll leave tomorrow. If I find out who it is, do I have your permission to deal wi' the man?”

“Aye, ye do,” Alex interrupted, his eyes cold, chips of blue ice reflected in the light of the tallow candle which was pushed into a blob of wax on the rough wooden table. “In any way ye see fit.”

There was a silence while the three men gloomily contemplated the almost unbelievable idea that a member of their own clan could have betrayed them to the enemy. Then Angus finished his tankard of ale and stood up.

“Well, now the business is concluded, it seems a shame to waste the evening, especially when Mother Meredith’s house is only a few steps away. I’ll just take a piss while ye finish your beer.”

He walked off across the room, pausing for a moment to say something to the comely barmaid that brought a smile and a blush to her cheek, and then disappeared out of the door. Alex watched him go and then shook his head.

“
Bas mallaichte!
Was I that careless when I was his age?” he said, half to himself.

“I dare say you would have been, but you had to grow up fast after Father died afore his time, Alex,” Duncan said. “He’s young and reckless, that’s all. But there’s nae harm in him.”

“I’m no so sure about that,” Alex replied.

Duncan’s eyes widened with shock.

“Christ, Alex, ye canna mean to say that you think Angus would hurt the cause?”

Alex picked up his tankard of ale and stared into its amber depths.

“No,” he said. “No’ intentionally. I’d trust him wi’ my life. I
am
trusting him, and you, wi’ my life. He’d die before he’d betray us. He’s brave, and a good fighter. There’s no one excepting yourself that I’d rather have by my side in battle. But he’s wild, and reckless, like ye said, Duncan. He doesna always think before he acts, and that’s what worries me.”

“Och, dinna fash yourself, Alex, he’s young, that’s all. He’ll grow up fast enough, when the time comes.”

Alex forbore from saying that the time was already here, and his youngest brother showed no signs of maturing at the moment. Instead he took a deep swallow of beer. Duncan eyed him knowingly across the table, his grey eyes warm with affection.

“Ye’ve a lot in common, ye ken,” he said softly. Alex looked up from his beer. “Ye’ve both got a way wi’ people. Ye can make friends of nearly anyone, and get them tae tell you the most amazing things. You both thrive on danger. And ye both attract the ladies like wasps round a sugar bowl.”

Alex laughed.

“Christ, I ken that well enough,” he said. “I’m besieged by the silly creatures. I think they sense I’ve no notion of marrying, and see me as a challenge. It’s awfu’ wearing, though. But you’re right about Angus. That’s why I want him here. And there’s one thing he’s got that I havena. I never kent any man who was so unaffected by the drink.”

That was true. Angus seemed to be immune to the effects of alcohol, which was a distinct asset in his current profession. He could match his companions drink for drink and remain clear-headed while they were drunkenly babbling all their most treasured secrets in his ear. No one to Alex’s knowledge had ever seen Angus the worse for drink.

The subject of their conversation now returned to join them.

“Come on!” he said impatiently. “If we’re quick, we’ll get there before all the decent lassies are taken.”

They didn’t, and rather than have what was left, Angus and Duncan chose to wait until the choicer girls had finished with their current clients. All three men had been to Mother Meredith’s before. It was a somewhat better class of whorehouse than many in the Drury Lane area, and the brothers relaxed on burgundy velvet-covered chairs in the salon, drinking brandy while they waited.

“So, who do you have your eye on tonight, Alex?” Angus asked. “I’m after Rosalind, myself, if I dinna have to wait too long.”

Rosalind was one of the newer girls, small and slender, with long blonde hair and thick-lashed blue eyes. She still retained the vestiges of country innocence about her, but Alex knew it wouldn’t last long. No woman could survive in this profession for more than a few months without becoming hard, a hardness which soon showed in her face.

“No,” he said. “I’m no’ in the mood. I think I’ll pass for tonight.”

“Oh come on,” coaxed Angus. “Ye canna do anything about the situation in Scotland by moping about it, man. There’s no better way tae take your mind off your troubles than a good shag.”

“He has a point there,” Duncan conceded.

“Tell ye what,” Angus said, “I’ll let you have Rosalind. I’ll take Clara instead.”

“That’s generous of you indeed,” said Duncan. “Ye always have Rosalind.”

“Aye, well, she reminds me o’ yon bonny lass that came upon us that night in Manchester. God, but she was lovely,” Angus said wistfully, staring unseeingly at the wood-panelled wall of the room, clearly reliving that night four months ago. “I can still feel the soft curves of her body in front of me on the horse, my arm wrapped round her waist to stop her leaping off. She was so slender, I could hae...” His voice trailed off as he saw the expression of fury on his brother’s suddenly pale face. Alex’s hands were curled into fists at his sides, and Angus instinctively shrank back in his seat.

“Dinna compare that lady wi’ a whore to me, not ever,” Alex said, very quietly.

Angus ran his tongue nervously across his lips.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didna mean any harm. I had nae idea ye were soft on the lassie.”

“I’m no ‘soft on the lassie’ as ye say,” Alex replied, his words clearly at odds with his reaction to Angus’s observations. “But she’s a lady, respectable, and I’ll no’ have her maligned.”

“Ye still see her then,” Duncan said.

“Aye, from time to time.”

“Are ye after marrying her yourself, then, Alex?” Angus said cheerfully, clearly not believing his brother’s protestations of indifference to her.

“No, I am not. She’s niece to a lord, destined to marry high. She’d no’ look at the likes o’ me. If I was interested,” he added hastily. “Which I’m not.” The firmness of his tone brooked no dissent. The subject was closed. Angus’s face was alive with questions, but there was no point in asking them, he knew that. All he’d succeed in doing was angering his brother more, and he knew from past experience how unwise a move that was.

The sound of doors opening and closing upstairs announced the imminent appearance of the more select ladies. Angus drained his glass in one before standing. Duncan pulled roughly at his sleeve.

“For God’s sake, man, sit down,” he said. “If they ken how eager ye are, they’ll double the price.”

“Rosalind willna,” said Angus confidently. “She looks forward to my visits as much as I do. She’s tellt me so, more than once.”

Duncan and Alex exchanged a knowing glance. She no doubt said that to all her customers. Or all the clean ones, at least. Duncan shrugged his shoulders. Let Angus keep his romantic illusions, while they did no harm.

“Are ye sure ye’ll no’ change your mind?” he asked his older brother.

“No,” said Alex. “I’m no’ in the mood. I’ll wait here for ye.” He sat back in the chair.

When the two brothers returned to the salon an hour later, Alex had gone. They waited for him for a short time before leaving, slightly puzzled, but not worried. Alex could look after himself, they knew that. Most likely he had got bored of waiting and had made his way home.

* * *

Beth had agreed under duress to make a brief call on Lady Winter with Isabella.

“You have made excuses not to come on the last three visits,” Isabella pointed out. “If you do not come this time, she’ll think you don’t like her.”

“I
don’t
like her,” Beth had replied.

“Oh, Elizabeth, how can you say that? She always speaks so highly of you!” Isabella had cried.

Only when my back’s not turned,
she wanted to say. The woman was a malicious gossip and delighted in destroying the reputation of anyone who was unfortunate enough to cross her. Beth conceded defeat though, pragmatic enough to realise that fifteen minutes of listening to vitriol was a small price to pay to keep in Lady Winter’s good books.

When she got there, however, she found herself dragged into a ladies only party in full swing in the drawing room.

“All the men have gone to see the bear baiting,” Lady Winter explained merrily. “So we ladies decided to have a little impromptu get together. I was about to send a man round to invite you, but you’ve saved me the trouble. Isn’t it wonderful?”

“Yes,” said Beth unenthusiastically. She gritted her teeth and plunged in.

 She knew that everyone would want to ask her about Lord Daniel, and within moments of entering the room her fears were confirmed. Was he about to propose? Was she going to meet his parents? Was his father going to come to London soon? What a beautiful bracelet. Had he bought it for her?

She fended the questions off as well as she could, smiling vacuously, hiding her impatience behind a façade of blushing romantic innocence. She looked around the room for Caroline, seeking shelter from the storm of questions, but to no avail. She took refuge in a corner hoping that the others would take the hint and leave her alone, but she was soon joined by several other ladies, Isabella amongst them.

“Emma was just saying that the gardens at Ranelagh and Vauxhall will soon be open, now that spring is almost upon us,” Isabella said. “I am sure Lord Daniel will want to show you the delights to be found there.”

“Oh, have you never seen the pleasure gardens, Elizabeth?” asked Anne Maynard, a buck-toothed stick of a girl with lank brown hair which was currently covered by an enormous powdered wig.

Of course I haven’t, you idiot. I only arrived in London for the first time three months ago, as you well know.

“No,” Beth said, smiling with her mouth while her eyes remained expressionless. “I have not had that pleasure as yet.”

“You must of course go to Ranelagh, rather than Vauxhall,” another lady put in. “Why, any rabble can get into Vauxhall now. Maidservants go there, acting the lady in their mistresses’ hand-me-downs. It is becoming impossible to distinguish between the mob and people of quality. Why, when I was a young girl a lady would not dream of passing good clothes on to the servants. She would throw them away first. It does no good, giving them ideas above their station.” Her beaked nose quivered with indignation.

Beth, who had already passed on the yellow satin dress that looked so hideous on her to Sarah, kept quiet. She was certain her maid would be at Vauxhall the moment it opened. She was having the time of her life in London. Beth swallowed the urge to make a challenging reply to the beaky woman’s comment and looked around for an escape route.

“So, I believe that Lord Daniel has written to his father, asking permission to take you to Skelthorpe Hall to meet his family,” Lady Winter said.

“Yes,” Beth admitted, wondering how the nosy cow had found that out. Surely Daniel hadn’t told her?

“Oh, I have heard such wonderful things about Skelthorpe Hall. You must tell me all about it when you’ve been,” Isabella said, clearly assuming it was a foregone conclusion that the earl would approve of her cousin. “I have heard that one room is covered from floor to ceiling in gold leaf! Imagine that!”

“It sounds quite...unique. If you will excuse me for a moment,” Beth said. “I really must use the privy.”

Once outside the drawing room she leaned her forehead against a pillar in the vast hallway, the cool marble soothing to her skin. She had not seen Daniel for three days, nor had he sent a message to explain his absence. She could not understand it. For the last month they had seen each other almost every day. On the rare days that he had been unable to meet her he had sent flowers and notes to say how much he was missing her. Now, suddenly, nothing. Her mind was in turmoil. Had his father replied expressing his disapproval, and Daniel was afraid to tell her? Had he changed his mind, met someone else, decided he didn’t love her any more? The thought tore through her like a knife and she closed her eyes against the pain. No, it wasn’t possible. He loved her, she was sure of it, and she loved him. Whatever had happened, that much was certain. But the niggling doubt remained. Could his love for her withstand his father’s displeasure? She wished he would just come and tell her, whatever it was. Anything was better than not knowing.

“Are you unwell, my dear?”

Beth’s eyes snapped open. A vision in russet velvet stood about four feet away from her. One of his parents must have been a cat, she thought; she had not heard his approach across the echoing hall, in spite of her acute hearing.

“What are you doing here?” she said rudely. “I thought all the men were at the bear baiting.” His violet cologne belatedly assailed her nose, and she wrinkled it in disgust.

“I have no interest in watching an animal torn to pieces for no good reason,” Sir Anthony said, not at all ruffled by her rudeness. “I called to leave my card, and Lady Winter kindly invited me to join the party. Speaking of cards, I have left mine at your home for the last three days. I need to speak with you about a most urgent matter, but Isabella told me you were indisposed. Indeed, you are remarkably pale, my dear Elizabeth. Are you ill?”