Mine Is the Night (58 page)

Then Anne turned to her with a question Elisabeth had not even considered.

“Will Lord Buchanan come directly to Bell Hill, do you suppose? Or will he stop in Halliwell’s Close?”

Chagrined, Elisabeth looked toward the mansion hidden in the trees. “I cannot say. If ’tis good news, surely he would come find me at once. But if ’tis ill news …”

Nae
. She would not dwell on the possibility.

Another hour or so passed. None of them had a pocket watch, dependent on the moving sun to mark the time. Elisabeth eyed Belda, nibbling on the grass. Might she ride out to meet Jack?

“I can wait here no longer,” she confessed. “Mr. Dalgliesh, will you kindly help me with the mare? I’ve decided to meet Lord Buchanan on the road approaching Selkirk.”

Her brow knitted with concern, Marjory called out to her, “Are you certain ’tis wise to go alone?”

“On Belda? In broad daylight?” Elisabeth heard the note of impatience in her voice and quickly curbed it. “Truly, I’ll not go far. No more than a mile or two out the Edinburgh road. I would hate for him to look for us in town and be disappointed.”

“Very well, though I do not approve,” Marjory said, sounding like the mother she was.

Elisabeth did not tarry, lest anyone else object. With a lift of her hand in farewell, she guided Belda across the meadow’s many hillocks, grateful when they reached the road without mishap. As they trotted toward town, she noted a few clouds starting to move in from the west. But they were neither thick nor dark, and the air was calm. An hour or more of sunlight remained and then the gloaming. Plenty of time.

Jack was drawing near. She knew it absolutely, as if his scent traveled through the air, though she did not find him at Halliwell’s Close.

Riding through town, Elisabeth noted many a curious glance. Her neighbors had often seen her on Belda but not in a gown adorned with buttons and ruffles. If she did marry—
Nae! Not if, Lord, but when
—the gossips of Selkirk would blether about it for months. A small price to pay for the blessing of being a good man’s wife.

Elisabeth guided Belda through the East Port, then down to the bridge across the Ettrick, before turning north toward Edinburgh, toward Jack. She rode one mile, then two, passing only the occasional rider, until she eventually reached the gates of Tweedsford. Odd to see the place again. Though
not a soul was in sight, Mr. Laidlaw and the other servants were assuredly within.

The sky was grayer now and the sun lower.
Hurry, Jack
. This was the only road to the north; he had to come this way.

Belda pawed at the ground, clearly wanting to continue. “We must wait here,” Elisabeth said in a firm voice. Beyond Tweedsford the road grew more winding, with lonely stretches between properties. As it was, Jack might not be pleased to find her abroad unescorted.

I do not approve
. Was that Marjory’s voice, or was it Jack’s?

Elisabeth looked through the open gates, wondering if she dared seek shelter at Tweedsford should rain or nightfall come before Jack appeared.
Nae
. Though General Lord Mark Kerr was not in residence at the moment, she could not look to his servants for help.

She started forward, then turned back, started forward, then turned back, frustrating Belda and herself in the process. Should she ride home? Ride to Bell Hill? Now that she’d come this far, she longed to greet him on her own, without the others present, however much she loved them. She imagined waving to Jack from a distance, catching him by surprise, welcoming him home with a kiss.

Aye, she would wait a bit longer.

Though the rain did not come, the gloaming finally did. Each time she heard hoofbeats on the hard dirt road, her head and heart lifted with anticipation. When instead a stranger trotted by with a tip of his hat, she offered a faint smile, relieved when he moved on.

Are you certain ’tis wise to go alone?
Marjory’s voice again.

Elisabeth knew the answer now.

In the fading light Belda whinnied at the sound of another rider approaching. More than one, judging by the hoofbeats. Elisabeth eased a bit farther down the road, moistening her lips, trying to swallow. She could not see them round the bend in the road, but she heard voices. Male voices.

Mustering her courage, she called out into the dusky air, “Lord Buchanan?”

ess
? Nae, it couldn’t be her. Not on this road and not at this hour.

When he heard his name called again, all doubt was erased.

Jack spurred Janvier forward, with Dickson riding close behind. A moment later they came round the curve and found Elisabeth waiting by the gates of Tweedsford as if a gentlewoman riding alone at twilight was of no concern.

He quickly brought Janvier to a halt beside Belda, then reached for Elisabeth’s hand. His own was shaking. With frustration, with relief, with joy. “Beloved, whatever are you doing here?”

“Welcoming you home.” When her gaze met his, nothing else mattered.

He could not kiss her as he wished, but he kissed her nonetheless, bending forward across the saddle, fitting his mouth to hers.

“I’ll be going on, milord.” Dickson trotted past him. “Shall I have the household prepared to greet their master?”

“Aye.” Jack lifted his head only slightly. “And their future mistress.”

Elisabeth’s eyes widened. “Do you mean …”

“I do.” He kissed her again, taking his time.

“Very good, milord,” Dickson called over his shoulder, riding off.

A sudden drop of rain splattering on the back of his neck brought their tender reunion to an end. “Follow me,” Jack told her, aiming for the leafy shelter of a maple tree inside the gates of Tweedsford as more drops began to fall.

Once they were well beneath the branches, Jack dismounted, then lifted her down, taking her in his arms without a word.

“Should we be here, milord?”

“Jack,” he reminded her, “and, aye, we should. Lord Mark will not be arriving anytime soon, I assure you.” He carefully took the two documents out of his pocket and placed them in Elisabeth’s hands, showing her the marriage agreement first, with Lord Mark’s bold signature. “You need never fear the dragoons knocking on your door, my love.”

“Oh, Jack.” She kissed him again, then read every word aloud. “Pardoned,” she whispered, gripping the document. “Safe, forever.”

He gazed down at her.
May it always be so, Lord
. “You’ll be interested in the second document as well,” Jack promised, unfolding it.

Holding the lease close to her eyes in the twilight, she scanned the words. “Marjory is to live
here
? At Tweedsford?” She looked toward the grand house at the other end of the drive. “Jack, does she know this?”

“Indeed not, for I didn’t want to make a promise I couldn’t keep.”

Elisabeth carefully folded the lease, still gazing at the property. “Marjory lost so much. Everything, really. Yet God has restored her heart, and you, dear Jack, have restored her home.”

He could think of no other way to broach the subject, and so admitted, “There are some things I cannot restore. Ben Cromar is dead.”

A host of emotions crossed her features. Shock, then dismay, and finally acceptance. “If my brother were alive,” Elisabeth confessed, “he’d not shed a tear for the man.”

Jack had heard some of the grisly story. “Will your mother mourn Ben?”

Elisabeth took her time answering. “ ’Tis hard to say. I’ve not seen my mother for many years …”

When her voice trailed off, Jack longed to share the contents of his letter to Fiona. But since he could not guess when and how the woman might respond, he held his tongue.

Elisabeth glanced at the property lease again as if she didn’t quite believe it. “Much has happened since you left for Edinburgh. Marjory and Gibson plan to marry on the nineteenth of October. Their banns will be read in the morn.”

Jack smiled. “Won’t the parishioners get an earful this Sunday?” Then he remembered the small gift in his pocket and quickly fished it out. “I’ve a present for you. Archie Gordon tells me women in Edinburgh expect such things from their betrothed.”

“Is it a Luckenbooth pin?” She fumbled with the lid in the growing darkness. “How wonderful!”

Jack watched her closely, fearing he’d erred in choosing something else. “ ’Tis not a silver pin,” he cautioned her, “but I do hope you’ll like it.”

“How could I not?” she said, her voice light. Then she opened the box.

Silence.

“Bess, what is it?”

She slowly lifted out the pin and held it to her breast. In a moment a tear slipped down her cheek, then another.

Jack wasn’t certain what to make of her response. Was she pleased? Overwhelmed? The brooch was expensive, aye, but still only a piece of jewelry. “I thought it a good likeness, but if you do not care for it, ’tis easily sold.”

“This cameo …” She tried to speak, her voice breaking. “You couldn’t know …”

“What is it, Bess?” He kept his voice low, not wanting to upset her further, smoothing his hand across her hair. “Can you not tell me?”

She nodded but did not meet his gaze. “You found this at Mr. Cowie’s.”

“I did.” A wave of uneasiness swept over him. How could she know that? Had she seen it there months ago?

Finally she told him. “Donald had this made for me in Paris. It arrived in the shop after he … after Falkirk.”

Then Jack remembered the merchant’s words.
Carved in Paris for a leddy in toun
. “You were the lady,” he breathed. “Cowie never mentioned your name.”

She opened her hand. “ ’Tis a beautiful pin.”

“Bess, if you’d rather not—”

“I rather would.” She slipped off her gloves, then with trembling fingers unbuttoned her cape and pinned the cameo to her gown. “Don’t you see? I
was always meant to have this but could not afford it.” She brushed her lips against his. “My dear Jack, however can I thank you?”

“Marry me, Bess.” He kissed her, harder than he meant to.

She responded without hesitation, matching her passion to his. “I will, Jack,” she whispered. “I will.”

Dickson would have made an able town crier.

Not only was the household waiting at the entrance to Bell Hill, but also the Kerrs, the Dalglieshes, and some of their close neighbors were gathered on either side of the walk.

“Think of it as a gauntlet,” Jack murmured in her ear as he lifted Elisabeth down, then handed the reins to a grinning stable lad. “A test of faith for the knights of old. The idea is to reach the other end unscathed.”

Elisabeth straightened her cape. “If you are ready, milord, then so am I.”

He offered her his arm. “Onward, my dear.”

Instead of the usual polite bows and murmured greetings, the couple was welcomed with exuberant handshakes and merry words. When Jack and Elisabeth finally reached the threshold, he slipped one arm round her waist, holding her close, then turned to address the small crowd.

“You will hear our marriage banns read at kirk in the morn,” he promised, to which a cry of joy erupted. “All I wish to say is, may the Lord bless you for your kindness. And for recognizing a virtuous woman when you meet one.”

“Indeed she is,” Marjory said, having hurried to Elisabeth’s side.

“Mrs. Kerr, since you’re here, I’ve brought good news for you from Edinburgh.” He winked at Elisabeth. “Perhaps you’d like to tell her?”

“With pleasure.” Elisabeth leaned forward and whispered in Marjory’s ear.

weedsford?” Marjory could hardly say the word. “But how did … What of … Nae, it cannot be!”

Yet here was her daughter-in-law promising it was true. And the most generous man she’d ever known insisting the lease was signed and could not be revoked.

Marjory clung to Neil’s arm for support and peered through the door into the entrance hall, hoping she might spy a chair, a bench, a footstool—anything to prevent her from fainting on the spot. “Mr. Gibson—”