Sutherland's Secret (16 page)

They remained silent during the ride to the castle. Brice listened intently for sounds of the English. Only once did they encounter a few, and they hid in the trees until the soldiers passed. Brice watched helplessly, hating that he had to cower in his own country when they were the intruders, not he.

He hated that a woman had to give birth in the forest, stifling her cries of pain for fear of being caught. He hated that he had to hide the family in the healer’s home for fear of being arrested. This was their land, the land they’d all lived on for centuries. But not anymore. Now everyone had reason to fear the English. Even Eleanor. How horrible to have to run from your own countrymen.

As soon as they entered the bailey and the portcullis slammed down, Brice breathed a sigh of relief. They were safe for now. Until the next time they had to go out riding. Yet there were many, many out there who weren’t safe, and it was up to him and his men to help them.

Eleanor was standing beside her mount, stretching her neck. Brice grabbed her hand and dragged her around the side of the castle and into the deep shadows. He pressed her against the wall and kissed her hard. When he pulled away, they were both breathless.

“What was that for?” she asked.

He shrugged, unable to put into words his fear and his sadness and his love for this woman who had brought a babe into the world in the worst of circumstances.

She smiled and stood on her tiptoes to wrap her arms around his neck. “Well, you can do that any time you please, even if you don’t know why you’re doing it.” He grinned down at her, but her smile slipped away and her brows furrowed in a frown. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He looked away because he knew she could see all of the unspoken words in his eyes.

Gently she held his chin and turned his face back to her. “It’s not nothing.”

“I love ye, Eleanor.”

Her gaze softened and tears welled in her eyes. “I love you, too, Brice.”

He hugged her tightly to him. “I’ll no’ know what to do without ye,” he whispered into her hair.

Her arms came around him and they held each other tightly, hearts breaking. Until she pulled away and wiped her wet cheeks. They looked at each other, but there were no words to make this right, so they took each other’s hand and walked back to the front of the castle and into the great hall, where Hannah had a hot meal waiting for them.

“Come,” Brice said, standing and holding a hand out after Eleanor had eaten most of her meal. “Ye’re falling asleep in yer soup. ’Tis time for bed.”

She stood and put her hand in his, practically stumbling up the steps. “Do you think they are doing well?” she asked.

“Who?”

“Morna and the baby.”

“Cait is a fine healer, even if she is a Campbell.”

“But by marriage, so that makes it better,” Eleanor said, and Brice smiled.

“Apparently I’ve said that before.”

“A few times.”

They entered his chambers, not even holding to the farce that Eleanor was residing in the lady’s chambers. They had too little time left to mince about. If he could, he would wed her now, but that was impossible for many reasons. First of all, he couldn’t reveal that she was residing here, so he couldn’t tell a priest her real name. Second of all, he wasn’t about to tie her down when they had to be separated in six days.

So he would take what he could get and hold everything in his memory.

She shed her clothes and climbed into the bed naked. She was fast asleep before Brice managed to get his boots off. He curled his body around hers and pulled the blankets up, but it was a long while before he fell asleep. He lay there watching her, running his hand down the silk of her hair and fighting the panic rising every time he thought about saying goodbye to her.

Eleanor woke before Brice but lay still, her body tucked up in his arms. He slept deeply, his chest rising and falling, his breathing not quite a snore but edging close to it.

From what she could tell, it was light outside, maybe close to the noon hour. They’d stayed up until nearly dawn.

She thought back to the events of the night, still overwhelmed and awed by what she had done. She’d delivered a baby, brought a little life into the world. Of course, the mother had something to do with it, but it had been Eleanor’s hands that the babe had slithered into, and it had been the most miraculous thing she’d ever seen. Just thinking about it brought tears to her eyes.

She hoped that someday she could bring a child into this world, but she wanted it to be Brice’s. No one else’s. She wanted a son with dark blond hair and sky blue eyes.

Reality came crashing back when she realized they could never be the family she longed for. She loved him so much, and he loved her. How tragic that nothing could come of their love.

He opened his eyes and smiled at her, and she smiled back.

“Heavy thoughts,” he said, his voice rough with sleep.

“Just thinking about last night.”

“The babe was lucky ye were there.” His expression turned stern. “Although ye disobeyed my orders and were no’ at my side like ye were supposed to be.”

“Good thing I wasn’t.”

He grunted, but she could tell he wasn’t as upset as he pretended to be.

“How do you do it?” she asked.

“Do what?”

“How do you see all of these people enter and leave your life forever and not feel something?”

“I can’t let myself feel anything. If I did, then I would forever be torn up, and I have too much to do to allow that.”

“It seems so sad.”

“No’ sad. Ye have to think of it as a happy occasion. They’re given a chance to start over, to create a whole new life. They have no future here, but in Canada they can create whatever they want.”

“Don’t you want to rail at the English for all they’ve done and everything they’ve taken away?”

“Aye. There are times when it becomes overwhelming, but what good would it do to let it overtake me? Anger wastes the energy I need for more productive pursuits. Do ye think the English will stop just because I rail and gnash my teeth?”

“But it makes me so angry, Brice. I want to do something about it.”

“Ye are. Ye’re thwarting them even if they don’t know it. They can’t torture and arrest if they have no one to torture and arrest.”

“It still doesn’t seem right.”

“Because it’s no’ right. I never said it was.”

She smiled at him. “Last night was exhilarating.”

He groaned and threw a hand over his eyes. “I knew ye would think so. This does no’ bode well for me.”

She punched him playfully in the arm. “Now that I have a taste for excitement, you won’t be able to stop me.”

“That’s my fear.”

She rested her fist on his chest and put her chin on her fist to look at him. “I wish I could stay and help you with the
Staran
. I’d be good at it. I know how to deliver a baby now.”

“Good God, I hope that never happens again.”

Eleanor chuckled. “Oh, Brice, it was so exhilarating and miraculous. I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“I would no’ be lying if I told ye that I’m glad it was ye who was there for it and no’ me. I’m no’ sure I could have done what needed to be done.”

“You would have been fine. I was scared to death, but I did it.”

He rolled to his side so they were face-to-face. “Ye are miraculous yerself, Eleanor.” She tried to wave his words away, but he captured her hand and brought it to his lips. “I mean it. Ye’ve changed so much since ye first came here. I’m proud of ye, lass.”

His words warmed her. “You have no idea how much that means to me.”

“I thank ye for yer help last night. I must admit that having a woman on the trail with us was beneficial.”

“You need a woman on the trail with you all the time.”

“Ach, but I think ye want to kill me.”

She laughed and propped her head up on her hand, suddenly serious. “I would stay and help you.”

The laughter faded from his eyes. “And forever be looking over yer shoulder for Blackwood?”

“He has to leave Scotland at some point.”

“No’ necessarily.” He paused, and she could tell he wanted to say something more. “I don’t understand that man. Why is he so intent on finding ye?”

Just the thought of Blackwood made Eleanor’s stomach churn. “Because I know the ‘proof’ he has of Charles’s treason charges is false. And because, for some strange reason, he wants to marry me.”

Brice thought for a moment. “After Charles’s death, what happened to Blackwood?”

“He was promoted to Charles’s position…” She looked at him in surprise. “You don’t think he created the false documents and accused Charles so he could be promoted, do you?”

“I think there is more to this Blackwood than we believe.”

Eleanor sat up to stare at Brice. She was as naked as the day she was born, and he couldn’t help but look at her beautiful breasts. Now was not the time, but they were powerfully magnificent.

“What are you saying?” she asked breathlessly.

“Ye know the accusations were false. Why do ye think he went to all that trouble?”

“I…” Her eyes lost focus, and he could tell she was thinking back to that terrible time. “I guess I always thought that he wanted me, so he took Charles out of the picture.”

“I believe ye’re right, but I also believe that his mission was two-pronged. Tell me about yer family.”

She focused on him. “My family? What does that have to do with it?”

“Tell me about them. Is yer father a powerful man?”

She wrinkled her nose in an altogether adorable way that made him want to lean forward and kiss it. “He’s a marquis,” she said.

“Would Blackwood’s marriage to ye elevate him socially?”

She considered before nodding. “Yes. Blackwood is the fourth son. He has no title as yet, but I’m sure after Culloden, he will be awarded one.” Her lips twisted, and he could tell she didn’t like that thought any more than he did. Was it possible that he was turning this
Sasannach
into a Highlander?

“But his new title would no’ open doors that yer father could open for him?”

“No.” Her eyes narrowed into slits. “The bastard,” she whispered. “He killed Charles and thought I would fall into his arms in grief, and he would then marry me to get to my father.”

Brice took her hand again. “I’m sorry, lass.”

She pulled her hand away and clutched it in her lap. He could practically see her mind working; she looked furious.

“Eleanor—”

She shook her head, a quick jerk that told him she didn’t want his touch at the moment. “Charles was an innocent in all of this. Just an obstacle in Blackwood’s path to get to me.”

“And ultimately yer father.”

“And now I don’t have a husband or a home or my family to go to, all because Blackwood is greedy.”

“Ye can go home and tell yer father what he is about.” The words nearly killed him, but he far preferred she go to England than Canada.

“I have no proof. He could deny all of it and call me a grieving widow who is touched in the head.”

Brice lightly ran his fingers over the scars on her wrist. “Ye have this proof.”

She quickly covered her scars, like she did every time he brought attention to them. “I know he has people watching my family. You don’t understand how powerful he is. How do I approach them without his men taking me?”

Brice highly doubted that Blackwood was as powerful as Eleanor feared, but he wasn’t completely certain. Maybe she was right. Maybe he did have men watching her family, ready to take her if need be. Blackwood was driven by greed. There was a dark part inside of him. Nothing else could explain why a man would imprison a woman the way Blackwood had imprisoned Eleanor.

Yet he could see the hope in her eyes. Hope that she was afraid to feel. Either way, Brice lost in this. Eleanor would return to England and the protection of her powerful family, or she would go to Canada. In each instance she would be far out of his reach. But also far out of Blackwood’s reach.

“Sir.”

Blackwood turned from the window to confront the captain in charge of finding Lady Hirst. “Captain.” He folded his hands behind his back. “What have you found?”

Captain Fenwick’s brows creased. “Found, sir?”

“The woman!” Blackwood yelled. Good God, was he working with fools?

The captain eyed him coolly. Blackwood didn’t like that look. The man thought too highly of himself and not highly enough of Blackwood. That wouldn’t do. Blackwood made a mental note to keep an eye on Fenwick.

“The woman,” Fenwick said flatly. “We have not found her on our patrols.”

Blackwood consciously tamped down his anger and frustration. Must he mount his horse and search? How difficult was it to find one Englishwoman in a country full of Highlanders? “But you are looking, correct, Captain?”

“Of course, sir.”

Blackwood suspected that the captain wasn’t speaking the truth.

“Sir, there is a matter of some urgency that I must speak to you about.”

“What is it?” Blackwood said, half listening.

His sources watching the Hopewell family said that the son, Thomas, had not been seen for some time. Though that concerned Blackwood, he was fairly certain no one in the household would venture all the way to the Scottish Highlands to find Eleanor. They would send someone. Blackwood just needed to find that person and put an end to his queries. That would buy him time to find the bloody woman. His fingers curled into fists, and he had to stop himself from slamming them into the top of his desk. Who would have thought the insipid Eleanor could thwart him so fully?

“Sir?”

Blackwood brought his attention back to the captain. “Yes?” he snapped.

“My men and I were talking. We have found it unusual that the number of Jacobites is dwindling.”

“Why is that unusual? We’ve rounded up and killed most of them. That means we’re doing our job.”

The captain looked skeptical but kept his mouth shut. Wise move. Blackwood didn’t take kindly to insubordination. Nevertheless he felt he owed the captain some sort of accolade. “Your men are doing a fine job, Captain. Obviously our mission here is almost complete. We’ve routed the dirty Jacobites and put order to the remaining Scotsmen. Now they know who is in charge here.”

The captain shifted from one foot to the other. “If you say so, sir.”

“Of course I say so.” Blackwood gritted his teeth, wanting the man gone so he could think without the captain’s voice jabbering in his ear.

“Very well, sir.” Captain Fenwick turned to leave.

“Captain.”

The man turned back and looked at Blackwood with one brow raised. Oh, yes, the man was going to pay for his insolence. “Keep looking for the woman.”

The captain hesitated. “Yes, sir.”

Eleanor tried not to let herself hope. Brice’s idea seemed too easy a solution to a problem that at one time seemed insurmountable. Could he be right? Could Blackwood be that greedy? That grasping? And she’d been so naive. That was the most embarrassing part. She’d not even thought that Blackwood was using her for his own gain.

She remembered her parents were always very careful about the men who had come calling and those who had asked to court her. Her father had the final say in who was allowed past their front door. At the time she’d thought they were being overly protective.

In thinking back on it, she realized that Charles had been more her father’s choice than hers. Her mother had introduced them, and her father had encouraged Charles’s suit. That wasn’t to say that Eleanor had no feelings for Charles; she’d been fond of him, and given time, she was certain they would have grown comfortable together and possibly even loved each other. Not the soul-searing love she felt for Brice, the kind of love that reached down into her and grabbed hold of her until she couldn’t breathe with the power of it. That was a once-in-a-lifetime love that didn’t come from a carefully scrutinized pedigree.

So maybe Brice was right. She was aware that her family was very well off, more so than most of her friends, but it was crass to talk about such a thing, and most of the time she never thought of it. Her father was a huge advocate of the military and claimed some of the highest-ranking officers as friends. Was that what Blackwood had been after?

Did it matter at this point?

How was she even to contact her family? A letter was out of the question, and she was afraid that Blackwood would have men waiting for her if she were to step foot on English soil. Her head hurt from thinking about all of this. One moment she was preparing for a new, lonely life in Canada and the next she was contemplating returning to the fold of her family.

And there were other considerations. She’d been imprisoned for months and was now living with a Scottish clan chief. Her reputation was in shreds and completely irreparable. What kind of a life would she live in England? And what if she were with child?

“This is where I always come to worry out a problem,” Brice said, taking a seat beside her.

She was sitting in the window seat in Brice’s study and looking out over the waves crashing against the back of the castle. This was her favorite place to be. She loved watching the deep gray of the sea and the white foam of the waves.

“How many years have those waves crashed against the castle walls?” she asked, not yet willing to share her deep thoughts.

“Nearly two centuries.”

“And yet the castle still stands.”

“And yet it still stands,” he said.

“Just like the Scottish. They’ve been beaten, but they’ll survive.”

“I hope that to be true,” Brice said.

“I know it to be true. If they have half the courage you do, all of you will survive.”

“Thank ye for yer faith.”

She laid her head against his shoulder and continued to watch the sea.

“I love ye, Eleanor.”

“I love you, too, Brice.”

“I want ye to know that whatever ye decide to do, whether it be sailing off to Canada or going back to yer England, I’ll support ye.”

She looked up at him. “I don’t know what to do. I’m afraid of living all alone in a strange country, and I’m afraid Blackwood is watching my family and waiting for me to return. If he even suspects that I’m aware he created those false documents, then he will kill me.”

“He’s the devil, to be sure, but he’s also just a man. I wish I could go to England with ye to give ye safe passage and ease yer fears.”

“You can’t suddenly run off to England and abandon everyone who needs you here.”

He rubbed his stubbled chin over her head and sighed. “I wish things were different. I wish I
could
run off to England. I wish the English had never come to Scotland and that I could be free to do as I wish.”

“If the English hadn’t come, we never would have met. I would have stayed comfortable and naive in England, and you would have stayed here.” And she never would have become the woman she was now, much stronger, much more wise.

“Life is funny, isn’t it?” He rested his cheek on the top of her head.

She covered his hand that was resting on her lap.

“We’re riding out tomorrow night,” he said. “Will ye be joining us?”

She chuckled. “Need you ask?”

He leaned down and kissed her on the lips, chasing away her heavy thoughts for the moment, so she could simply enjoy being with him for the little amount of time they had left.

“MacLean just rode in,” Lachlan said to Brice later that afternoon.

“On time,” said Brice. He and MacLean had discussed their plans. There were many people to be moved tonight, and MacLean had offered his assistance and that of his men. Brice didn’t like more people knowing of his activities, but at this point he had no choice. He was short on men, and those he did have were weary.

He hoped that the flood of refugees would slow to a trickle, but that wasn’t happening, and he feared that the English presence was going to make things worse in the near future. More and more would be leaving their country for a better life in the new world.

He was bone-weary himself, not having slept well in ages. Eleanor’s predicament weighed heavy on his shoulders. He didn’t want her to go to Canada and he didn’t want her to go to England. He wanted her to stay right here with him, but he knew from experience that he couldn’t force her to stay. He’d done that with his wife, and look what had happened. She’d been miserable and fled at the first opportunity with the first man who had shown her an ounce of compassion. Brice faulted himself for that. At the time he’d laid all the blame at Alisa’s feet, but now he realized that he was to blame as well. He wouldn’t do that to Eleanor. She needed to end this with Blackwood, whether she chose to do it by fleeing to Canada or seeking the help of her family. Either way, she would be free. And he would be miserable.

He put his head in his hands and rubbed his face.

Lachlan wandered off and Eleanor sat across from Brice. Her eyes were dull with her own worries and thoughts, and her lips were pulled down at the corners. He wished her happiness and laughter, but he couldn’t impose those on her by demanding that she stay with him.

“I want to try to go home,” she said.

Each word hit him like a blow to the heart: He was losing yet another woman to that blasted country. But he couldn’t blame Eleanor. It was her home, after all, and he knew she desperately wanted to see her family.

“That is yer decision, then?” he asked.

She hesitated, then nodded. “I don’t want to live the rest of my life in fear of Blackwood. A few months ago, the younger Eleanor would have done just that. The new Eleanor wants to stand up and fight.” She reached across the table and curled her fingers around his. “You’ve taught me so much, Brice. If not for you, I wouldn’t have the courage to defy Blackwood and return to my family.”

He turned his hand around until they were palm to palm. “You’re a mighty fine warrior, Eleanor Hirst.” His voice was rough with emotion. He’d found an injured bird on the side of the road. He’d nursed her back to health and taught her courage, and now she was flying away from him. It was as it should be, though his heart hurt to think about living the rest of his life without her.

She smiled, her gaze locked on their hands. “That’s the best compliment you could have given me.”

“It’s the truth. You’ll do what needs to be done to bring Blackwood down. I have every faith in you.”

Tears dripped from her eyes and still she did not look at him. “What will happen to us?” she whispered.

He hesitated, the thought hurting too much to put into words. She lifted her tear-filled gaze and he saw the truth. She was lost to him as surely as Alisa had been.

“Ye will go back to yer wonderful life with yer wonderful parents, and hopefully ye’ll think kindly on Scotland and the Highlands.”

A tear fell from each eye and her blue eyes sparkled with more. “I fear I won’t fit into my old life. I’m not the same girl who left with Charles. I fear my family won’t know me anymore.”

“They’ll like this new Eleanor better.” Lord knows he did.

She looked away. Brice didn’t think his heart could ache any more than it did right now, and this wasn’t even goodbye.

“I’ve been thinking about how to get ye to England safely. I’ll contact the Campbell and ask him for help.”

“I thought you hated Campbell.”

“ ‘Hate’ is a strong word. I dislike a lot of what he has done and the fact that he has turned his back on Scotland. But he has English ties, and he would know the safest way to get ye to England.”

“What is this of the Campbell?” Colin sat down beside Eleanor and straddled the bench, holding an apple. He spat on the floor when he said the name Campbell, as he did every time he discussed the man. He took a bite of the apple and chewed, looking back and forth between Brice and Eleanor.

“I’m returning to England,” Eleanor said softly, shooting a swift glance at Brice. Brice kept his gaze firmly on Colin and pulled his hand away from Eleanor. He missed her touch, but he needed to accustom himself to living without it.

Colin looked at Brice in shock. “And ye’re trusting Campbell to get her there? Are ye daft, man?”

“He’ll take good care of her.”

Colin leaned over the table to study Brice closely. “We’re talking about the same Campbell? Iain Campbell, the traitor?”

“He’s no’ a traitor.” Although he walked a fine line. “He’s liked by the English. If his men are stopped by the soldiers, they’ll be given safe passage. Unlike us.”

Colin sat back and munched on his apple for a moment.

If only Brice could take her to England. But what then? Her family would never approve of him—a brute from the Highlands who hid Jacobite supporters and spirited them out of the country. No, he was entirely unsuitable for the daughter of a powerful marquis. He didn’t want to see their disapproval, and neither could he take the time away from the
Staran
and Graham’s
Tèarmannair
and the untold other responsibilities that the castle laid at his feet.

“I can get her there,” Colin said.

“How?” Brice asked.

“I can smuggle her in on one of my ships.”

Brice shook his head. “Nay. Yer men I do no’ trust. They’re unsavory, and I would fear they would no’ treat her right. Besides, she canno’ show up at her parents’ doorstep with smugglers.”

“But she can show up with Campbell’s men?”

“Campbell’s men are welcome in England. They support the English.”

“Bah!” Colin waved the hand with the apple in the air. His lips were pursed as if he’d bitten into a worm. “I do no’ like that man.”

Brice grinned. “Pray tell. I wasn’t aware.”

Eleanor burst out with a laugh and Colin grinned. “So when do ye leave, lass?” he asked her.

Brice’s smile disappeared and Eleanor stopped laughing. “I don’t know yet,” she said.

Brice said, “I have to contact Campbell and ask him for this favor. It’s probably best if I do that in person. I’ll invite him here. That way I don’t have to travel with Eleanor and risk the English finding her.”

“Sleep with one eye open, then,” Colin said. At Eleanor’s curious look, he explained, “A Campbell is known to offer ye sanctuary, then slit yer throat in the middle of the night while ye sleep under his roof.”