Authors: Heartstorm
"You
might question Douglas before sending him," Blake said carefully.
"I've observed him with MacLean on more than one occasion. The men were
too friendly to my mind... and Douglas knew of the gold."
Glenkennon
bit his lip, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "Douglas is intrigued by the
man, but he's too stupidly loyal to the Stuarts to throw in his lot with a
traitor like MacLean. I've no fear of his tongue—and James may listen to
him."
Blake
nodded. "If you say so, m'lord." He turned to go. "I'll have an
inventory of the household gold, silver, jewels, and saleable lands by tomorrow
evening."
"Wait!"
Blake
turned back.
A
smile of satisfaction played about Glenkennon's lips. He settled back in his
chair. "Get a message to Percy Campbell, ordering him to wait on me at
once. You know, I was almost forgetting our most valuable property at
Ranleigh."
***
Anne
did not remain in ignorance of the turn of events for long. Nigel Douglas told
her of the stolen shipment of gold and of Glenkennon's plan to raise money for
his army before leaving with dispatches for England. Like her father, she had
no doubt as to the leader of the raiders. It was Francis—pray God he was still
safe!
Alone
in her room, she considered her foolishness. She had fallen in love with a man
who did not know the meaning of the word fear—she who had always quailed at her
father's slightest frown! Francis would never turn his back on a challenge, no
matter how dangerous—not even for her. As his wife, she would spend many
anxious hours waiting for him to return from whatever daring escapade he had
joined. She must accustom herself to this cold fear coiling about her heart.
Francis
would never change—but she would not have made him over, even if she could
have. A reluctant smile touched her face. She might more easily catch the wind
which blew so freely over the Highlands than change Francis's nature. He would
not be the same man who had won her heart were he to become hesitant and
careful— even as the wind would cease to be once it was trapped safely inside a
box. Francis would live as freely as the gulls soaring above Camereigh, and she
would be thankful for whatever time she would have at his side.
The
sudden clatter of horses' hooves in the courtyard drew Anne to the window. Sir
Percy Campbell was dismounting in all his dusty splendor. She stepped back with
a frown. Her father would expect her to entertain Campbell, and in light of
Glenkennon's recent temper she did not dare protest. Yet it was growing more
difficult to tolerate Sir Percy's sly looks and lingering caresses with any
degree of composure.
She
fortified herself with the knowledge that she had only to play this game a few
more days. Francis had promised to return for her within the month. And on that
promise she knew she could depend. She counted the days on her fingers, an
exercise she found herself performing numerous times each day. Only four days
remained— Francis must have been on his way to Ranleigh even then.
Hurried
footsteps sounded in the corridor, and Glenkennon flung open Anne's chamber
door.
She
studied him warily.
"Campbell's
here and in no good temper by the look of him," he snapped. "I want
him coaxed into good spirits." He stared at her pointedly. "You're to
apply yourself to that end in whatever way possible, my dear. I want the man
happy."
A
sudden surge of unfamiliar rebellion rose up bitter as gall in her throat. She
crumpled the yellow silk of her skirt between her fingers, willing herself to
hold her tongue... only four more days. "I'll do all I can to entertain
him, Father," she said with an obedience she was far from feeling.
He
nodded curtly. "Dress yourself becomingly then, and see to your
hair." He frowned at the demure knot she'd gathered at the nape of her
neck. "I'll expect you at dinner in an hour."
***
Glenkennon
took a long sip of the fiery amber liquid in his glass, watching Campbell
closely. The evening had gone well despite its unpromising beginning. Campbell
was furious over the recent levy, though God knew the man could well afford to
pay. He had been angered still more by the curt message ordering him to
Ranleigh so abruptly. The circumstances certainly weren't the most auspicious
under which to arrange a marriage contract, but Glenkennon vowed he would have
the matter settled before Campbell left. He needed the money too badly to await
the man's pleasure any longer.
He
forced a bland smile to his face. "Another drink, m'lord?"
Campbell
glanced from his empty glass to the sidetable of fine wines and brandy.
"Aye. Just a wee dram more." He shook his head. "That's the
finest dinner I've had set before me in a fortnight, m'lord. My compliments to
your cook."
Glenkennon
rose, his smile more genuine this time. He took Campbell's glass and crossed
the office floor, tilting a liberal draught of his finest imported brandy into
the goblet's crystal globe. Campbell had been expanding all evening under the
combined treatment of skillful flattery and strong spirits. And it had taken
only a smile from Anne and a fine dinner to coax the man into good humor.
Glenkennon
held the glass out to his guest. "Nothing but the best for you, my friend.
Your advice has been invaluable. You understand these mad Highlanders better
than any man I know. But I've something else on my mind, Percy, and I think I'd
best give you a hint." He raised wide, guileless eyes to Campbell's face.
"Sir Charles Howard has requested an interview with me concerning my
daughter." He sipped his brandy thoughtfully. "You seem to cherish an
interest in Anne, and I'd not promise her to another without determining your
feelings first."
Leaning
back in the velvet-cushioned chair, Campbell studied Glenkennon's carefully
blank face with a satisfied smile. "I'm not so drunk as you believe, so
let's have the truth of it now, m'lord. On the one hand, you're desperately in
need of gold to finance this campaign against MacLean before winter, while I've
gold and to spare in my coffers. I, on the other hand, want your daughter to
wife, but feel you've placed an exorbitant price on the arrangement."
He
paused, warming the brandy between his hands. "I might decide to meet your
price, but only upon my terms." Scarcely controlling his eagerness, he
raised his eyes to Glenkennon's waiting face. "May I suggest we get down
to business?"
***
It
was impossible to identify the varying shades of scarlet thread in the
candlelight, even with a half-dozen candles lit. "Bess, I think we'd best
wait till morning," Anne said, watching the girl squint intently over the
tapestry frame.
She
rose and moved to the window while Bess put the work away. She was restless and
uncomfortable that night, uneasy at the way Glenkennon had watched her
throughout supper. She'd not liked the continual smile he had worn or the
calculating look in his cold gray eyes.
Gazing
into the darkened courtyard, she wondered where Francis was at that moment.
What if he had been injured during that raid...or even killed? It might be
months before she heard if anything had happened!
She
clasped her arms about herself and drew a deep breath. Nothing had happened,
and she was being unaccountably foolish to give in to such thoughts. Francis
would be with her soon. After all, there were only four more days...
A
sharp knock sounded, startling her from her reverie. She glanced at Bess, and
the girl rose to open the door.
Before
Bess could reach it, the door swung inward. She took a hasty step back,
dropping a low curtsy as Glenkennon strode through the entrance.
Anne
noticed the look of triumph glittering in his dark eyes and was immediately on
her guard. Not Francis... dear God, let it not be Francis!
"You
may go, girl. Your mistress won't need you further tonight," Glenkennon
said, jerking his head toward the door.
With
a quick glance of apology toward Anne, Bess bowed herself out.
Anne
faced him, her heart quickening its beat as she prepared herself for whatever
news he bore.
"I'm
delighted to inform you I've completed the arrangements for your marriage, my
dear child," he said smoothly. "Our friend Sir Percy Campbell has
requested your hand, and it's been my pleasure to accept on your behalf. I know
you're as pleased with the news as I."
Anne
swallowed heavily, holding her breath to steady herself at his words. It was no
more than she had expected, yet the sudden announcement made her blood run
cold.
Campbell
moved into the doorway behind her father, lounging against the wall while his
dark eyes slid over her possessively. She knew some word of acknowledgment was
expected, but she couldn't force herself to speak of happiness now.
"You
may congratulate yourself, my dear, on having won such an ardent
bridegroom," Glenkennon continued. He exchanged a knowing look with
Campbell. "Sir Percy insists upon an immediate marriage. I've assured him
you've no foolish desire for a large wedding; therefore the ceremony will take
place day after tomorrow."
Anne
reached for the chair back for support, struggling to control her features. It
was absolutely imperative that she stop them now. "Father... my Lord
Percy, I'm conscious of the honor paid me, but I must beg the indulgence of a
few days to prepare myself." She forced a smile. "Couldn't we wait a
week? Even a few days and I can be ready."
"This
week, next week, it makes no difference to me," Glenkennon said
impatiently. "But Percy wishes the day after tomorrow to be his wedding
day, and so it shall be." He looked at her strangely, a hint of amusement
curling his mouth. "I suggest that after tonight you get yourself wed as
quickly as possible, my dear."
Her
chest ached with the effort of taking controlled breaths. She would be married
to Percy before Francis could even be told. She wanted to scream her refusal,
yet she knew she had no choice in the matter. Better to bide her time and make
plans right away. And Francis might come—dear God, please let him come—tonight!
"The
marriage contract has been drawn up and signed and all the arrangements have
been agreed upon," Glenkennon continued. "You're Lady Campbell in all
but name now, and that shall be taken care of in another day. I shall give you
into Percy's keeping as of this hour. You're to consider yourself under his
protection and make yourself obedient to his wishes from this time forth."
He cast a sidelong glance at Campbell. "I'll leave the two of you now to
make whatever arrangements you see fit. You'll not be disturbed further."
Anne
stared at him in disbelief, cold fear chilling her heart. She could not mistake
that smug leer on Campbell's face or the finality with which Glenkennon had
uttered those last words. "Father, you can't mean..."
She
broke off, flushing painfully. "I... I need time to accustom myself to the
idea of... of marriage. I..."
He
was shaking his head.
Her
heart left its usual place in her chest and pounded heavily in her throat.
Though the room was warm, icy needles of fear crept along her spine.
"Please, Father, we must discuss this further!"
Glenkennon
paused at the door, turning back upon her with indifference. "There's
nothing to discuss. You'll comport yourself now in a manner befitting an
obedient wife. And you may consider yourself lucky in my choice of a husband
for you."
She
searched his cold face desperately for any hint of affection. Did he really
hate her so? "Can you really give me to this man so easily... without
benefit of marriage?" she whispered.
"The
space of a day or two will make little difference, and in the eyes of the world
you'll be his wife, and nothing more will be known," he replied.
"I've given my word to the bargain, and as such it shall stand. This isn't
so unusual as you might believe, Anne," he added coldly. "As a matter
of fact, I'm certain it's the way you were conceived."
His
words cut through her like a hot blade, severing her breath. She no longer needed
to question her mother's marriage to such a man. The door swung shut behind him
with an awful finality, leaving her staring in dismay at the solid oaken panel.
"Come,
Anne, 'tis not so bad as you'd have it," Campbell stated, advancing toward
her across the floor. "I'm sure we shall deal together very well."
His
words jerked her back to the situation at hand. She studied Campbell now with
an attention he had never before inspired. He was a tall man, heavy chested
with powerful arms. There was no hope of overpowering him. She must stay
calm—use her head to delay him.
She
licked her dry lips. She must divert him... if only for a few hours. "My
lord, please," she entreated, lifting one hand. "You're a gentleman.
I know you'll not press your suit in this manner. Allow me a few days to
accustom myself to the idea of our marriage. I assure you I'll meet you as a
dutiful wife in every way." She wanted to smile at him, yet her fear was
so great she could only stare in wide-eyed alarm.
"Your
modesty is becoming, Anne, but I've done with waiting," he said softly.
His eyes slid over her eagerly. "I've your father's blessing, and he's the
promise of my gold— and a goodly sum I paid for you, too. You've no need to
fear I'll go back on my word. I'll take you to wife on tomorrow next." He
reached for her, but she sidestepped him quickly, putting a table between them.