The Master Of Strathburn (42 page)

The clanging of another bell drew Robert’s attention to the street. Reluctantly letting Jessie go, he turned around. An ambulance cart had at last arrived and the injured chairman was being moved onto a stretcher. A pair of Scots Guard soldiers and a few of the Town Guards could also be seen in amongst the other members of the crowd. In fact, the uninjured sedan chair attendant speaking with one of the dragoons suddenly pointed Jessie’s way. Robert’s heart rate kicked up a notch. It wouldn’t be long before someone would want to question her. And they would most certainly ask about the whereabouts of Lady Strathburn.

‘Despite everything yer stepmother did, I’m verra sorry tha’ things have ended this way,’ Jessie murmured. Emotion had thickened her voice. ‘For yer father’s sake at least.’

Robert turned back, amazed at Jessie’s capacity for compassion and forgiveness. She truly was a beautiful soul. He drew her into his arms again to not only offer her comfort but to reassure himself she really was safe … and that was when he felt the butt of his pistol pressing sharply into his hip bone.

Damn
,
bloody damn.
If the Scots Guard or the Town Guards saw it, he was done for. As surreptitiously as he could, he slid the pistol behind his back and tucked it into his breeches, praying his woollen riding jacket would be enough to conceal the suspicious bulge. He had nowhere better to hide it; his greatcoat was still draped around Jessie’s shoulders, and she clearly needed it; not only for warmth but to cover the blood stains on the front of her drenched blue gown.

To think he’d nearly lost her …

‘I don’t care about anything else except for the fact that you are safe, and with me,’ he murmured, gently pushing strands of damp hair away from her eyes. He cradled her lovely face in his hands, brushing his thumbs lightly along her cheekbones where traces of her tears and the rain still lingered.

‘Kiss me,’ she breathed.

He found himself drowning in the warm glow of her whisky-brown eyes. Dear Lord, how could he resist? ‘Whatever my lady desires,’ he whispered.

He meant the kiss to be soft and lingering, a gentle homage to everything Jessie meant to him, but it soon became apparent that his passionate wife had other ideas. When she grasped the back of his head and moved her mouth urgently against his, he lost control of all the pent-up emotion within him and returned her kiss with equal ardour. And the mad world behind them disappeared.

Robert pushed her against the brick wall of the close and devoured all she offered. His tongue and lips explored her mouth thoroughly, savouring her heady sweetness.

He felt Jessie’s hands slide beneath his jacket and frantically clutch at the wet linen clinging to his chest and then his back; her hands were everywhere, as if she wanted to rip his shirt away. He too, was impatient to touch her skin, the wet silk of her gown was suddenly a barrier he couldn’t tolerate. His hunger for her, all of her, was growing steadily with each passing moment. He pushed his hand under the folds of the greatcoat, seeking her breast …

‘Now, now, Lord Lochrose. Dinna make me arrest you for engaging in inappropriate displays of affection an’ harassment of a lady in a public place.’

Robert dragged his head up and looked over his shoulder. Captain McBryde, atop a fine cavalry steed, was right behind them.
Damn the man to hell.
Panic spiked. Robert prayed the soldier’s keen eyes hadn’t noticed the outline of the pistol butt beneath his jacket. He pulled Jessie closer to his body to hide the telling blood stains on her gown.

Despite the officer’s outwardly stern expression though, Robert thought he detected a glint of amusement in the man’s eyes. Clearing his throat he said smoothly enough, ‘I’m just taking care of my wife, Captain. She was in the sedan chair with Lady Strathburn, you know.’

Captain McBryde raised an eyebrow. ‘I see.’ To his credit, the man had not baulked in the slightest at Robert’s use of the word
wife
when he’d referred to Jessie.

He glanced behind Robert to Jessie. ‘Do you know where Lady Strathburn is then, milady?’

The question was inevitable. Robert felt Jessie stiffen in his arms, but she held the captain’s gaze steadily. ‘I’m afraid not, Captain. You see, I took a wee bump to the head and in all the confusion I’m no’ sure what happened.’

Robert smiled inwardly; he was nothing but impressed with Jessie’s quick thinking and display of
sang-froid
.

However, McBryde was frowning. ‘Are ye sure you are all right?’

‘I’m quite well, Captain,’ Jessie replied with apparent calmness. Her mouth lifted into a shy smile as she added, ‘especially now my Lord Lochrose is here to look after me.’

Perhaps still sensing something was amiss, the captain’s gaze darted to Robert, before returning to Jessie. Given the incident this morning, and the peculiarity of Jessie accompanying the countess in a sedan chair meant for one, it was no wonder he was suspicious. Nevertheless, he merely smiled back and inclined his head. ‘Perhaps I could call on you later this afternoon at Strathburn House to take yer statement about the accident.’

‘Tha’ would be quite all right,’ said Jessie with an elegant tilt of her head. ‘We shall expect you.’

McBryde’s brow suddenly creased with mock sternness. ‘Are ye sure this man isna bothering you, Lady Lochrose? I can still have him arrested if he is, you ken.’

Her smile widened. ‘I can assure you, Captain, that I’m being verra well taken care of.’

McBryde grinned. Then he caught Robert’s eye. ‘Well, as you were then, milord.’ He turned his horse away.

Robert gave Jessie the lopsided grin meant only for her as he gathered her close again—the woman he loved more than anything, his wife. ‘Who am I to disobey the law?’

April 1758

Lochrose Castle, Strathspey, Scotland

The mirror-like waters of Loch Kilburn reflected the clear blue sky and the spring green foliage of the surrounding woods when Robert and Jessie chose a place to share their picnic. A weeping willow tree seemed as good a place as any to spread their blanket amidst the clusters of daffodils, purple crocuses and snowdrops. To Jessie it seemed like their own private paradise.

It had been some weeks since they had managed to steal some time alone together. Their infant son, William Robert Alasdair Grant—or Will as Jessie was wont to call him—had only recently settled down for a proper sleep after a few fractious days and nights of teething. Although Annie Shaw, Tobias’s cousin, made an excellent nursemaid, it was not until this morning that Jessie had felt comfortable enough to leave their precious seven-month-old son for more than a few hours. Dark-haired like Robert, and brown-eyed like herself, he was a beautiful boy, healthy and strong, with generally—teething aside—a happy disposition and ready smile.

Just like his father
Jessie thought as she glanced at Robert. He was unpacking the bread, cheese and French Chablis from the basket Mrs McMillan had packed. A lock of his dark hair had fallen across his brow, hiding his deep blue eyes from view. He’d removed his jacket and half boots and was now dressed only in a linen shirt, open at the neck and buckskin breeches. She was suddenly hungry, but not for what was being spread before her on the blanket.

She smiled to herself, contemplating how they would spend the next few hours. Yes, today she was determined to enjoy every single moment she had alone with her handsome husband. She knew they could count on complete privacy here by the loch. There was no one else at Lochrose, save for their son, who could have any reason to claim their time. Indeed, Lord Strathburn and her father were currently in Inverness on estate business and were not likely to return for another few days.

Even though she was now a Viscountess, her father had chosen to continue on as factor. He had reasoned that the estate would need to have the best of managers to ensure his grandchildren would be inheriting the healthiest of legacies. And Robert and Lord Strathburn had been happy for him to do so.

Robert had seen that in a very short space of time, her father had made a real difference to the estate’s profitability. In fact, it had taken only six months for the estate, under her father’s careful stewardship, to generate enough income for the reacquisition of the land that had been sold off to pay the mountainous debts of Lady Strathburn and Simon. With the restoration of Clan Grant lands and rapid replenishment of the family coffers, Robert was able to offer what he considered suitable compensation to all of the clan families that had lost someone at Culloden. Jessie suspected that Robert’s guilt would never be completely assuaged, but she knew that he was less troubled than he had been before.

Of course, her father had been initially confounded and more than a little troubled at the unseemly haste with which she had become hand-fasted to Lord Lochrose. Jessie—out of a desire to spare her father unnecessary strain—had provided him with a highly edited version of the events that had taken place over the tumultuous seven days that had brought her and Robert together. She did not like to lie to her father, but detailing all of her near misses—particularly at the hands of Simon and Lady Strathburn—would only cause him stress and would not do a thing to alter what had occurred.

Naturally her father had been deeply concerned that she was marrying a reprobate of the first order—even though Lord Lochrose was now a pardoned Jacobite. But she had soon convinced him that Robert genuinely cared for her and she for him, and that she did indeed wish to be his wife. So it was on a clear snow-powdered day in November of 1756 that her father had happily walked her down the aisle of Kilburn Kirk to be officially wed to her reformed gentleman Jacobite. It had been one of the most joyous days of her life.

Lord Strathburn continued to be the most gracious of fathers-in-law, despite Jessie’s own humble background. He always made her feel as if she was more than a worthy partner for Robert, and for that she was most grateful. But even after a year and a half of marriage to a peer of the realm, Jessie still found it difficult to believe that she would be the next Countess of Strathburn, and that her and Robert’s son would one day be the earl. She felt truly blessed for all that she had been given, not the least of which was her most beloved and loving husband.

Lord Strathburn had quietly mourned the untimely death of his wife. After the countess’s body had been discovered with Simon’s duelling pistol in Holyrood Park, there had of course, been an investigation. Fortunately, Captain McBryde had believed both her own and Robert’s stories—that she had been dazed after the sedan chair accident and that Robert had come upon her as he’d been returning from Leith Docks. Baird had never been seen again. So with little evidence to go on, the coroner had ultimately made a finding of death by misadventure rather than suicide. Jessie thanked God every day that she and Robert had both somehow managed to escape unscathed.

Jessie suspected Lord Strathburn felt both the sorrow of losing a woman he had once loved as well as the disappointment of realising how bitter and vengeful she had become. But he had slowly adapted to the life of a widower. Indeed, it was evident to both Jessie and Robert that the earl’s recently recovered
joie de vivre
and vigour had directly coincided with the birth of Will. Lord Strathburn was very much the doting grandfather and could often be found in the nursery or the garden, dandling his laughing grandson on his knee.

Jessie also firmly believed that Robert’s return home, together with the arrival of a healthy grandson, were the only reasons her father-in-law was able to cope with another loss in his life—the death of Simon.

Word of Simon’s demise had come to Lochrose a little over a year ago. After
The Phoenix
had departed for the Caribbean, Robert had sent word of Lady Strathburn’s death to Drummond via another merchant ship bound for Jamaica. According to Drummond, Simon had not taken the news well; he had, by all accounts, gotten horrendously drunk in a tavern in a highly disreputable part of Kingston and had been killed in a taproom brawl.

Jessie knew that Robert had fully intended to release Simon from his tenure aboard
The Phoenix
once a year and a day had passed. Drummond had reported that prior to putting into port in Kingston, Simon had actually started to show some acceptance of his lot and had begun to willingly participate as an active crewmember aboard the ship. This news had comforted Lord Strathburn a little; the idea that his youngest son had demonstrated some strength of character indicated that perhaps at last, Simon was actively attempting to reform himself.

As for Robert, Jessie knew in her heart that the deep scars he’d borne for so long were beginning to heal. She could see it every day in his easy smiles and the laughter that was frequently alight in his blue eyes. Or oftentimes it was desire. Indeed, the eyes that were regarding her now contained a decidedly heated, speculative look as he handed her a glass of wine.

Jessie accepted the cool, pale Chablis and gave her husband a deliberately provocative smile. She took a sip then keeping her eyes locked with Robert’s, she carefully placed the glass to the side of the blanket. She wondered if he’d already guessed what her plan was. Although they had been married nearly eighteen months they had never once visited the loch to make love. It was definitely time for her and Robert to create a new and lasting memory of their own in this place.

Robert raised a dark eyebrow. ‘It’s not to your taste, my love?’

She smiled again and began to fiddle with the ribbons lacing the front of her gown’s bodice. ‘It’s lovely, but … I rather think I hunger for the taste of something else right now.’ She noticed the immediate flare of reciprocal hunger in Robert’s eyes as she continued to loosen the ribbons, slowly revealing her fine lawn chemise. She’d deliberately chosen this dress—a lovely, frivolous creation of pale lemon and ivory striped silk with a low scooped neckline and trailing ivory lace sleeves—for its combination of prettiness and ease of removal.

Since seduction of her husband had been foremost in her mind as she’d readied for the picnic, she’d also dispensed with wearing stays. She let her gown slip off her shoulders before she proceeded to slowly undo the three pearl buttons fastening the front of her chemise, one by one. All the while Robert was watching her with still and avid attention.