Читать книгу Bride of the Solway - Joanna Maitland - Страница 11

‘Y ou sent a letter to the provost,’ James thundered, shaking his fist at Cassie, ‘and I know only too well how it was arranged. You have gone too far this time, sister. That woman, Morag, shall leave my lands this very day. No woman defies me in my own house.’

Cassandra had known he would be furious, but also that it had been right to take the risk. She owed it to the man to save him. And now she must try to pay what she owed to poor Morag, too.

‘Morag had nothing to do with it,’ she said quietly, knowing that she must not provoke him further. She willed herself to be calm, to swallow her boiling anger against his continuing injustice and cruelty. If she appeared submissive enough, he might listen to what she had to say.

James said nothing. But it was clear from his expression that he was far from convinced. She must try harder.

‘Come, brother, you know she could not have taken a letter to Dumfries. For how would she have travelled? And secretly, too? Since I have been…er…keeping to my room, Morag has taken charge of the household in my place. If she had gone to Dumfries, her absence would have been noticed. You would have noticed. You are always fly to the time of day.’

Her heavy-handed flattery seemed to be working. His fists had unclenched a fraction. And he did not seem to be wanting to shout at her again. Yet.

Cassandra hurried on. ‘No one in this household was involved.’ His head came up sharply. ‘So there is no one to be dismissed on that account.’

‘Tell me who it was.’ He was trying to control his anger, for once. In some ways, that made him more frightening.

She ignored his question. But she would try not to antagonise him further. ‘In the end, it was as well that I did send the letter. For both of us,’ she added. ‘We both know we cannot afford to make an enemy of Colonel Anstruther, for he has too many powerful friends in Dumfries and Edinburgh.’ She could see that her arguments were finally making an impression on James. And she spoke only the truth. James might have thought he was taking vengeance on a friendless traveller with no standing in the world. But it had transpired that the traveller was a gentleman, and one who might have the power to ruin the Elliotts. She waited for her brother to respond. She had said enough for the moment.

‘It is true that Graham is a gentleman,’ he conceded at last, with an angry shake of his head. ‘One look at his fine linen told me that. But even a gentleman can be hanged, Cassie, if the crime is heinous enough.’ The venom in his words was unmistakable.

You might be speaking your own epitaph. The thought flashed through Cassie’s mind, unbidden. She was instantly ashamed. She might hate her half-brother, and with just cause, but she did not will his death. Never that. She only wished…she only wished to be free of him, and to find some degree of happiness in her life. A very little would suffice.

‘There was no crime,’ she said simply. ‘I had never met him before.’

‘Aye, so you say.’

‘Jamie—’

‘Enough of your wheedling, girl. You will tell me who carried the letter.’

Cassie set her mouth in a firm line and said nothing.

‘So that is to be the way of it? Very well. Since I cannot punish the real culprit, I shall have to find someone else to take the blame.’ His voice sank to a soft hiss. ‘Yes. I think Morag will suffice. She leaves this day.’

‘No. You cannot. Morag has done nothing. Please, Jamie, I promise you, she was not the one.’

‘I do not doubt it. But I should make an example of someone.’ He brought his face down to hers. ‘You do see that, don’t you, sister?’

‘Make an example of me, then. For it was I who wrote the letter.’

‘Oh, I intend to do that also. I have plans for you, Miss Cassandra Elliott.’

Cassie tried to suppress a shudder. She did not quite succeed.

‘It frightens you, does it? Good. And so it should. Your first task is simple. You are to find out about Captain Graham. We know he has powerful friends, but we know precious little of the man himself. No doubt he will happily enlighten you about his estate and prospects. After all, you were very friendly out there together, were you not?’

‘I will do no such thing. I am not a spy.’

‘You will do exactly as I say, or Morag will be dismissed.’ He glared at her. ‘Well?’

She was firmly caught. He had left her with no choice. She nodded.

‘Understand this, sister. I will be watching your every move. If you put a foot wrong, Morag will feel the weight of my retribution. Fiendish subtle, is it not?’

It was certainly fiendish, Cassie decided. He knew she would do whatever he wanted, while Morag was hostage for her obedience. She lifted her chin. ‘I cannot spy on Captain Graham unless I can talk to him. And I do not expect he would wish to have anything to do with the man who threw him in gaol. Or that man’s sister.’

He laughed harshly. ‘You credit me with precious little wit, Cassie. The arrangements have already been made. Do not look so surprised. Did you think me incapable of making an apology, as a gentleman should? Why, Cassie, you underestimate your brother. No sooner thought than done. We are invited to call on Colonel and Mrs Anstruther, and Captain Graham, at our convenience. To give you an opportunity to apologise for all the trouble you have caused.’

‘I—? Apol—?’

‘In fact, I doubt an apology will be expected,’ he continued smoothly, enjoying his triumph. ‘The gentlemen will not wish you to divulge the details of your disgrace in front of Mrs Anstruther, I imagine. It will be…it will appear to be a courtesy visit, to allow you to enquire after Mrs Anstruther and to make the acquaintance of Captain Graham. Nothing could be simpler, surely? Surely?’

She nodded weakly.

‘Let us be clear that your object, during this visit, is to show the gentlemen—both the gentlemen—that you are a fine lady with all the accomplishments necessary in a wife.’

‘Both the gentlemen? But Colonel Anstruther already has a wife!’

‘Not for much longer. He’ll be a widower soon. And he’s very rich.’

So that had been James’s plan. Cassandra was horrified. The colonel was devoted to his wife. Everyone knew that. How could James be so callous?

Easily.

‘As for Captain Graham, I have yet to discover his circumstances. He may be married already. Or worse—poor. You will do your utmost to draw him out on both counts.’

‘A lady would not do anything so vulgar.’

For once, James did not shout. He even smiled. ‘A lady has ways of extracting such information, as you very well know. Did you learn nothing at all in that fine Edinburgh seminary that Father paid so much for?’

Cassandra said nothing. There was no point.

‘Now remember. You have been unwell. A slight chill has confined you to your room.’ He smiled mockingly as he stressed the word ‘confined’. ‘You are not quite fully recovered, but you have actually made a great effort for this special visit. Have I made myself clear?’

James Elliott took the chair indicated by the colonel and then turned towards Mrs Anstruther. ‘Your footman is just helping my sister down from the carriage. I have come in ahead of her to warn you that she finds herself a little frail just at present and does not think she will be able to remain more than a few minutes.’

‘I am truly sorry to learn that your sister is unwell, Mr Elliott.’ Mrs Anstruther looked concerned.

Elliott cast a glance over his shoulder to the half-open doorway before replying, in a low voice that reeked of false concern, ‘My sister, ma’am, chanced to be out riding some days ago when a storm broke. She caught a slight chill and has since kept to her room. This is the first time she has been able to venture abroad.’

Ross and the colonel exchanged glances. How glibly Elliott lied!

‘But she should not have come such a way!’ Mrs Anstruther exclaimed. ‘The poor child! She cannot be expected to make calls when she is ill. This visit should have been put off until another day.’

‘Believe me, ma’am, it is but trifling. You know what young girls are.’ He smirked then. ‘They fancy themselves ailing at the slightest sniffle. And—’ There was a noise of footsteps in the hallway. Elliott rose from his place. ‘Ah, here she is. You shall judge for yourself whether she is well enough for visiting. Come in, Cassandra, come in. Our host and hostess are waiting.’

The colonel stood up. Ross, too, rose politely. She might be little more than a child, and a hoyden besides, but she would not find Ross Graham’s manners wanting.

‘Good afternoon, Mrs Anstruther,’ she said quietly, dropping an elegant curtsy.

Ross caught his breath. How on earth could he have made such a mistake? He had believed Miss Elliott to be fifteen, or sixteen at most; a mere child, and an unruly one at that. But this dark-haired, dark-eyed beauty was much older—and a full-grown woman, the kind of woman that men would fight to possess.

In that split second, Ross began to understand much that had puzzled him before. About Miss Elliott and her desire to escape. And about her brother’s ruthless determination to keep her close, and safe.

Cassandra had had to steel herself for this meeting. James had made his fell purposes crystal clear. And now, standing on the threshold of the drawing room, she knew that all eyes were upon her. She took a deep breath and stepped forward, trying not to look at either of the gentlemen, James’s intended quarry.

‘Good afternoon, Mrs Anstruther,’ she said politely, dropping a curtsy to the beautiful but frail lady sitting in one of the wing chairs by the unseasonable roaring fire. James had been right about the colonel’s wife. Much had changed since their last meeting. She was now clearly marked for death. She had an ethereal, translucent quality about her. Half-angel already?

‘Come in, child, do. You must not allow yourself to become chilled.’ Mrs Anstruther’s body might be failing, but her mind seemed perfectly alert. ‘There is a sharp breeze coming off the river today. Indeed, it feels more like autumn than high summer. Come and sit by me so that we may enjoy this fine fire together.’ She smiled up at her husband, standing with his back to the hearth. ‘The gentlemen shall make way for the needs of a recovering invalid.’

Colonel Anstruther bowed slightly and removed himself a little from the fire. To Ross’s mind, the room was uncomfortably hot, but that was only to be expected; Ross had learned that the colonel permitted nothing and no one to divert him from anything that might ease Mrs Anstruther’s sufferings. Theirs was real love between a man and a woman. The kind of love that any right-thinking man would envy, even though few of them would ever attain it.

Pushing that unwelcome thought to the back of his mind, Ross stepped forward to greet Miss Elliott, as a gentleman should. How would she react to him, now that she appeared in her proper guise? Did she know how to behave as a lady? With such a brother, she had had a pretty dismal example to follow. Ross bowed politely and offered her his arm. ‘May I help you to a seat by the fire, Miss Elliott?’

She curtsied a second time. It was an elegant move. She had clearly been well taught, in that matter at least, for she had given Ross just the degree of respect required by their positions in society. He was an officer and a gentleman; she was a gentleman’s sister. Nominally, at least.

The two women had been talking amiably for some time when the tea tray was brought in. The need to curtail the visit seemed to have been forgotten. Mrs Anstruther smiled across to where her husband stood by the window, carrying on a rather strained conversation with Elliott and Ross. ‘Will you take a dish of tea with us, Mr Elliott? Or do you, like my husband, object to maudling your insides with such a beverage?’

Elliott strolled across to the fire and replied politely that he would be delighted to drink tea with his hostess. Too politely, Ross decided. The man was definitely trying to make a good impression on Mrs Anstruther, probably in order to curry favour with the colonel. But why? What was Elliott after? What could the colonel possibly have that Elliott needed?

Miss Elliott rose from her chair to help hand round the cups, first to her brother and then to the colonel. She moved with the grace of a gazelle. And she had beautiful white hands, almost as delicate and translucent as the fine porcelain she carried. ‘Cream and sugar, Captain Graham?’ For the first time, she smiled directly at him. He realised, with something of a surprise, that her dark eyes were not brown, but blue, the rich blue of a summer twilight sky. So very unlike her brother’s shifty brown eyes. But then, they had not had the same mother. That would account for the differences between them. Ross was suddenly glad of it. He found he could not stomach the thought that Miss Elliott was in any way like her blackguard of a brother.

‘Captain Graham?’

‘I beg your pardon, Miss Elliott. No sugar, thank you.’

She nodded and brought his cup to him. ‘It is unusual for a man to drink tea without sugar.’

‘We did have tea in the Peninsula, ma’am, and sugar. But they were not always easy to come by. One learns to adapt.’

‘I am surprised to learn that officers in the army were drinking tea,’ she said, on the thread of a laugh. Her eyes were dancing. They were really very beautiful eyes.

‘We were not all lost to the ways of polite society, ma’am. One or two of the officers were accompanied by their wives, so we single men did not become complete barbarians.’ He willingly returned her smile. Her brother might be scheming, but Miss Elliott seemed to be everything a lady should be. How was it possible that she had been fleeing for the Solway, dressed only in a sodden shift? Ross determined to solve the mystery surrounding her. It was clear that she needed protection from her brother. But why?

‘I find I have a picture of you in my mind, sitting on the ground around a camp fire, weapons in one hand and a bowl of tea in the other. Absurd, is it not?’

He laughed and was delighted that she did, too. She had very even white teeth and a wide, kissable mouth. Lord, where had that thought come from? For a moment he was stunned by his own reaction.

‘I can see that I must not pursue that avenue of conversation any further, Captain Graham, lest you find yourself confiding what else the single officers were doing. Tell me, what brings you north? Your accent suggests that you are originally from Scotland, but I was wondering why you chose to visit Dumfries rather than, say, Edinburgh. Does your family come from here?’

‘I am not exactly sure.’ He cursed silently. What on earth had possessed him to let that slip? Miss Elliott’s surprise was clear and absolutely predictable. Everyone disdained a man without a family. Now he would have to explain something of his Scottish origins—not that he knew much—and to try to parry the inevitable questions.

She did not display the vulgar curiosity he had expected, however, saying merely, ‘How…er…unusual. Do you plan to make a long stay in this part of the country?’

Ross was becoming more and more impressed. This was a true lady. She had seen his dawning embarrassment and had skilfully helped him through it. What had happened to the hoyden? Was this really the same woman? It seemed impossible. Yet it was true.

He must do his best to respond in kind.

‘I find it strangely beautiful, I must admit. As I have no pressing reasons to return to London, I fancy I may spend some time in these parts, exploring the area. There are some fine houses to visit, I believe?’

‘Yes, indeed. Many. And even finer gardens. The climate here is most clement, particularly towards the west. Some of the local gentry have created beautiful gardens and are bringing in all sorts of new plants from distant parts. I find myself envying them greatly.’ She smiled up at him. ‘Yes, I know it is a sin, but I cannot help myself. Whenever I visit such a garden, I cannot help but covet the glories I see there.’

‘Then you have much in common with Mrs Anstruther. Oh, not the sins, I am sure,’ he added hastily, ‘but the love of plants and gardens. The colonel and his wife are creating a new garden at their manor near Castle Douglas, I believe.’

‘The colonel’s property is rather more than a manor, sir,’ she replied with a twinkle. ‘It is an ancient castle, built as a bulwark against the invading English. As you travel around you will see that there are many such, mostly in ruins. The colonel’s family spent many years restoring it, I believe. Most other families preferred to build anew. A modern house can be more comfortable, I suppose, though it lacks the magic of the old places.’

‘Ah, do I detect a lover of gothic romances?’

She blushed. Delightfully.

‘Forgive me, ma’am,’ he said quickly. ‘That was impertinent of me. Tell me, if you will, what places of interest I should visit while I am staying in Dumfries.’

She named several, ending with Sweetheart Abbey. ‘It was built by the Lady Devorguilla in memory of her beloved husband. His heart is buried there. It is a strange, haunting place, but very beautiful. You will find it an easy journey, in the day, though better on horseback than by carriage. Are you travelling alone?’

‘For the present, yes. Though my man, Fraser, will be joining me in the next few days.’ He dropped his voice to be sure that Mrs Anstruther would not hear. ‘He will be quite horrified, of course, about what happened. He’ll maintain, loud and long, that if I had allowed him to accompany me in the first place, as he’d tried to insist, I wouldn’t have been thrown into gaol at all.’

She drew herself up slightly. Ross could not decide whether it was because she wished to distance herself from her own out-rageous behaviour, or whether she disapproved of his obviously close relationship with his valet. ‘You will tell him what happened?’ Her voice definitely held a hint of hauteur. So, she didn’t think a gentleman should confide in his valet. How little she knew. Having shared the privations of the Peninsular War with Fraser, Ross trusted his man implicitly. With his life, if necessary.

‘It matters not a whit whether I tell him or not.’ Ross grinned suddenly, remembering many instances when he had tried to keep information from Fraser. ‘Fraser is the best gatherer of information I have ever known. He’d find out somehow. He’d have made a very successful spy.’ Now that was not quite true. For, on occasion, Fraser had already made a very successful spy. And the British army, though unaware of the details of the man’s dangerous service, had reason to be eternally grateful for Fraser’s abilities.

‘How very…interesting.’

He had lost her. The sparkling look was now veiled as she took his empty cup and returned to speak to Mrs Anstruther. Her brother had risen from his place and was bowing to his hostess. The pair clearly meant to leave.

‘It was a great pleasure to meet you again, Miss Elliott,’ Mrs Anstruther said. ‘And you, too, Mr Elliott. I do hope you will come again soon, so that Miss Elliott and I can continue our discussions. I have rarely met anyone so young yet with such enthusiasm for plants and gardens. We share a common passion, I think.’

Miss Elliott smiled warmly. ‘I cannot hope to match your knowledge, ma’am, but I should very much like to learn more from you. What you tell me of your new garden is fascinating.’

‘I long to visit it again. But situated as I am—’ she gestured impatiently at her useless legs ‘—it may be some time before I can do so. However, if you wish to visit the house and garden, please feel free to do so. My gardeners would be delighted to learn that there are other ladies in the world just as passionate as I am.’ She looked sideways at Ross. ‘Perhaps Captain Graham would like to accompany you? And your brother, of course.’

James Elliott cleared his throat and directed a swift warning look towards his sister. ‘Cassandra is most grateful for the invitation, ma’am. Very generous of you, I am sure. However, we must not think of making any excursions until Cassandra is quite well again. It does not do to risk a lady’s frail health.’

Ross hoped his reactions did not show on his face. The man was a lying cur. Had he not poured scorn on the assumed frailty of young ladies not half an hour ago? Why was he now declining Mrs Anstruther’s invitation when he had gone to such lengths to ingratiate himself before? There was something very strange going on in the Elliott family. Very strange indeed.

Mrs Anstruther stretched up her hand to Miss Elliott. ‘Forgive me, my dear,’ she said. ‘I hope you will be fully recovered very soon. It will not be possible for me to return your call, alas, but perhaps you will overlook my discourtesy and come to me again? I did so enjoy our talk. The colonel does his best, and he has become very knowledgeable about plants of late, but he does not share my passion. Not as you do.’

Miss Elliott blushed. ‘You do me too much honour, ma’am. And I should be delighted to call on you again.’ She glanced towards her brother, who was frowning. ‘As soon as I am able.’

‘You will understand if we take our leave now, ma’am,’ her brother said. ‘We must get home while it is still light. It would not do for Cassandra to become chilled.’

The normal courtesies were soon exchanged. Elliott could almost have been a real gentleman. Certainly, his assumed manners could not be faulted. Ross felt his gorge rising as he watched. The man was the very devil.

Ross insisted on escorting Miss Elliott to her carriage, offering his hand to help her to mount. With one foot on the step, she turned to look into his face. Their eyes met, and held. He felt a slight pressure of her fingers in his. ‘Thank you, Captain Graham,’ she said softly. ‘I am truly most grateful to you.’

‘Your servant, ma’am,’ he said, returning the pressure for just a fraction of a second. A silent message was sent and received. Ross had no doubt that Miss Elliott—Cassandra—understood what he intended. He had risked his life to save her once. And he stood ready to do so again.