Sutherland's Secret (21 page)

They followed the guard through the main room, up a set of steps, and down several hallways. Eleanor was uneasy as they passed redcoat after redcoat. Some stopped to look; others merely glanced as they hurried past.

Eleanor had never made it to this part of the garrison. Upon arrival, she’d been thrown in the dungeon and left there. She shivered at the thought. She didn’t even know where the dungeon was in relation to the main building. Was Colin here somewhere?
Please let him be alive.

Before she could go further with that thought, they were escorted into a large room. On one end was a desk against some windows, and sitting at the desk was Cumberland.

He stood and shook hands with Campbell. The two conversed quietly while Brice, Eleanor, and Thomas stood back. Brice was tense beside her, on alert. Surprisingly his weapons had not been taken from him; then again, they were in a garrison full of English soldiers.

Thomas was called forward. He strode up to Cumberland, the mantle of his title and his family history resting comfortably on his shoulders. Eleanor was proud of her brother. When the time came—and hopefully it wouldn’t soon—Thomas would be more than ready to take over the duties of the earldom.

The three conversed. Cumberland glanced at her now and again.

Eleanor’s education had been exceptional, and even now she could name those in the royal house, including Cumberland. He was Prince William Augustus,
Duke of Cumberland
, Marquess of Berkhamstead, Earl of Kennington, Viscount of Trematon, and Baron of the Isle of Alderney. Son to King George II and brother to Frederick, the Prince of Wales. Fort Augustus was his namesake.

She shivered in awe and fear. This man could squash her and Brice and even Campbell and her brother if he had a mind to. She had to trust that Campbell knew what he was doing. Cumberland wasn’t overly tall, but he had a commanding presence, a high forehead, and a straight, narrow nose topped with dark eyes.

As she was studying him, he waved her over. She cast a quick, panicked look at Brice. He nodded once, giving her the courage to step forward and dip into a deep curtsy.

“My lady.” He inclined his head to her. “Campbell and your brother have told me a fascinating story about your husband and you.”

“Yes, Your Grace.” She curtsied again.

He studied her for some time, those dark eyes assessing her while she stood there, trying to appear humble. She was glad she’d chosen the gown she was wearing. She prayed that Campbell was correct and that the man was fair.

Campbell, meanwhile, stood to the side, appearing at ease in front of England’s leader of the Battle of Culloden. It hit Eleanor that this was the man responsible for driving the Scots off their land, who had ordered the retreating Jacobites killed with dagger, sword, or dirk. This was the man who had forced the people out of their homes and into hiding.

She thought of Morna and her baby, who were hopefully on their way to Canada, toward a new life. The baby would never know Scotland, would never know the majestic land that she came from.

“I think it prudent to call in Colonel Blackwood and get his side of the story,” Cumberland said.

The blood rushed from Eleanor’s head and into her feet. Her stomach rolled and she fought her rising panic. She cast a quick look around the room. Thomas showed no reaction. Campbell appeared bored, and though Brice was still standing at the door, his expression was thunderous.

Cumberland called in the guard who had escorted them up here. He was fresh-faced, far too young to be serving in the military it seemed to her. He cast her a quick, curious glance before trotting off to find Blackwood.

Blackwood was in the stables with his men. They had just returned from a reconnaissance mission, searching for the lost Lord Thomas and his sister. How in the hell had he lost both of them? His men were incompetent. Blackwood entertained the idea of having them flogged, but that would raise too many questions that he couldn’t honestly answer.

He glared at the sorry lot of them as they looked uneasily about. He couldn’t possibly cover the entire countryside on his own, but it was beginning to look more and more like he would have to. How else was he supposed to find the blasted brother and sister?

He passed a hand over his eyes and sighed. Ever since Thomas Stiles had arrived in Fort Augustus, Blackwood had been unable to sleep or eat. Constant worry dogged his steps and kept him awake at night.

“Colonel.”

“What is it?” he snapped, thinking it was one of his men. But when he opened his eyes, he saw a guard he’d not seen before. He glowered at the young kid.

The guard didn’t tremble or appear at all affected by Blackwood’s ill humor. “The duke would like to see you, sir.”

For a moment Blackwood didn’t comprehend what the guard was saying. He’d been thinking that it would be better if he mounted his horse and rode out on his own. “I beg your pardon?” he asked.

“The duke requests your presence, sir. Now.”

There was no mistaking that command. Now he knew why the guard had not cowered before him. “Do you know why?” he asked, tempering his anger and frustration.

“I would not know why, sir.”

“Very well. Let me change my boots, at least. These are full of mud—”

“The duke said with all due haste and you were not to tarry. Sir.”

Blackwood’s back teeth came together as anger surged through him. He’d never been summoned by Cumberland. He did not want to appear before the man in muddy boots, but it seemed he had no choice. “Lead the way, soldier.”

He followed the guard to Cumberland’s office, his mind whirling as they entered the building and went up the stairs. The guard opened a door and waved Blackwood in. Blackwood nodded and stepped into the room.

The first thing he noted was the huge Highlander standing at the side of the door, glaring at him. Good Lord, but the man was heads taller than Blackwood, with impossibly wide shoulders. Why would Cumberland have a Highland warrior in his office? And then recognition hit him. This was Sutherland. Why the hell was Sutherland here? His gaze moved to the back of the room, and his breath left him in a whoosh that made him dizzy.

There
she
stood. The bitch who had laughed at him, denied him, and escaped his hold.

He’d been searching for her for weeks, and now she stood before him, looking hale and hearty and as beautiful as he remembered. Where the hell had she been for the past few weeks? Not dead as he’d hoped and prayed, that was for certain. Apparently she’d been well fed and taken care of.

He turned to glance at the Highlander standing watch at the door.
Sutherland
. Had she been under his roof the night when Blackwood had stayed there?

The Highlander looked at him with impassive eyes and no expression.

Blackwood looked back at Eleanor. If not for her stubbornness, he would have everything he ever wanted. Entrée to London society. Acceptance, money, and a beautiful wife on his arm.

She stood tall and regal, her head held high, all that golden hair floating around her shoulders. She looked at him with a pinched expression but that damned pointed chin held high. Blackwood looked at her brother and his severe, accusing stare. Behind them and to the side of Cumberland was Iain Campbell, who looked on everything with an air of amusement.

“Please come forward,” the duke said, motioning him with a wave.

Blackwood’s feet moved, although his head was spinning. He forced a smile at Scarbrough. “You found her, my lord. I’m so pleased.”

“Yes,” Scarbrough said stiffly. “I found her.”

“Colonel Blackwood, Lady Glendale and Lord Scarbrough have come to me with an interesting tale,” Cumberland said.

Blackwood turned his attention to the duke. “A tale, Your Grace?” His heart was thudding and his hands were sweating.

“What do you know of the accusations of treason leveled against Lord Glendale?”

Blackwood’s breath seemed to leave him all at once. He glanced at the woman. Her expression was hard and accusing. He remembered bringing her into his rooms and offering his protection. She’d been terrified and overwrought after witnessing her husband’s hanging. She should have been biddable. She should have accepted his assistance easily. Now she didn’t look at all like the woman he’d spoken to then.

“I…” His voice left him as his mind whirled. Should he tell the truth? The partial truth? Lie? He had no idea what Eleanor had told Cumberland, so partial truth was the best option.

His throat was parched, and he had to force his voice to work. His body was shaking, but he refused to believe that this was the end. He would
not
be brought down by a mere woman. His dreams would
not
be ruined because of her. He could turn this to his advantage.

“It was brought to my attention that Glendale was selling secrets to the Jacobites,” he began, feeling his way, not willing to reveal more than he needed, with the hope that Cumberland would take his word over a woman’s. Certainly Cumberland would believe one of his own soldiers. A loyal soldier, at that.

“And what did you do with this information?” Cumberland asked. He was looking at some papers on his desk as if this were an inconsequential matter.

Blackwood relaxed. Of course Cumberland had far more important things to occupy his mind. He was merely appeasing a fellow nobleman and his disgraced sister. It was becoming clear to Blackwood, and he was growing angry at Lord Scarbrough and Lady Glendale for interfering. They were wasting Cumberland’s and Blackwood’s time with this silliness. It wasn’t Blackwood’s fault that she was disgraced after her brother found her cohabitating with a Highland warrior like the whore she was.

Convinced that he was in the right, Blackwood straightened his spine and spoke with the authority that had served him well in the military. “I received information that Lord Glendale was to meet with one of the Jacobite leaders.” He schooled his face to appear sorrowful, with a touch of pity toward Lady Glendale. “Unfortunately everything was true. There was nothing I could do but arrest Lord Glendale for treason.”

Cumberland looked up at him and folded his hands on his desk, giving Blackwood his full attention and making his stomach cramp. “You say everything was true, but what was your proof, Colonel?”

“I was given a signed confession from the Jacobite himself. In return, I was assured that the Jacobite was leaving Scotland for France.”

“And the name of this Jacobite?” Lord Scarbrough asked in the haughty way that only the nobility could achieve.

Blackwood’s back teeth came together, but he smiled through it. “Unfortunately I do not remember his name.”

“But you have the signed confession,” Scarbrough persisted. “We can get the name from the confession.” Scarbrough arched a brow, telling Blackwood in one look that he thought him a liar.

Blackwood’s anger rose hot and potent, but he tamped it down, knowing that in Scarbrough’s eyes, Blackwood was simply a military man, not as good as Scarbrough and his ilk. Blackwood had lived most of his life knowing he wasn’t good enough for the upper echelon of society. Eleanor Hirst was supposed to have reversed that bad fortune.

“I can attempt to find it,” Blackwood said. “But with the move from Edinburgh to Aberdeen and then on to Fort Augustus, it might take some time.” He was pleased with himself for putting doubt in the minds of everyone here that the fate of the signed confession was precarious at best.

Eleanor’s face was twisted in fury, but she remained silent.

“I will require the paper,” Scarbrough said.

Blackwood tipped his head. “Certainly, my lord.”

“And then what?” Cumberland asked.

Blackwood turned his attention back to Cumberland, knowing him to be the biggest threat in the room. Scarbrough, Blackwood could deal with. He’d been dealing with men like that all his life. After all, look how ineffective Glendale had been against him. But Cumberland was a different story. Blackwood actually feared Cumberland.

“Yer Grace, I’m certain Glendale’s widow does not want to hear the details of her husband’s—”

“I was there, Colonel,” she said, speaking for the first time. “I was present when he was arrested and dragged from our quarters. I was there when he questioned the soldiers who put him in manacles. I was there when he was hanged, still declaring his innocence. I watched his legs kick as he struggled for breath, and I stood there watching him die. You can spare my sensibilities now.”

The large Highlander behind Blackwood shifted, drawing his attention. The lethal glare he received made him flinch.

“You may proceed with your story,” Cumberland said with a slight smile.

Blackwood swallowed through a dry throat. “It was as she described, Your Grace. Lord Glendale was arrested and hanged the next day.”

“Was he tried?”

Blackwood hesitated. It was a fatal hesitation, he knew that immediately, but he tried to cover it up by speaking with authority. “We were preparing to leave for Aberdeen any day. Things had to proceed quickly.”

“I see.” Cumberland studied Blackwood. “And what happened to Lady Glendale after that?”

“I…” He looked at the lady in question. She was watching him, waiting for his answer. But there was no ready answer. His mind had gone curiously blank. For the first time he thought that maybe he wouldn’t talk his way out of this, that maybe Cumberland wouldn’t take a soldier’s side and would instead believe Lady Glendale and Lord Scarbrough.

“Is it true, Colonel Blackwood,” Cumberland said in a tone that one could not ignore, “that you had Lady Glendale arrested, brought to Aberdeen and then Fort Augustus, and kept her imprisoned?”

Blackwood had the curious thought that this had moved from a mere questioning to a trial, and he was the accused. But he persisted, refusing to believe that his illustrious career would end in this way.

The large Highlander shifted again. Campbell was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, watching with a bored expression. Scarbrough was pale and appeared as if he could be sick at any moment.

And in the midst of them all stood Lady Glendale, standing tall, watching him with those blue eyes that had laughed up at him while they’d danced at the officers’ ball. He’d known then that he’d needed to have her, and when he realized that she was the daughter of Hopewell, a very powerful and well-off lord, and the wife of another powerful lord, he knew what he needed to do. He had to get her husband out of the way and then convince her that she needed him.