Claimed by the Laird (25 page)

She had not heard from Lucas. She was allowed no letters and did not know if he would even write to her if she was permitted to communicate with him. Lachlan had betrayed her and had killed Peter, too. It was horrific. She had had no chance to talk to Lucas about it, but she knew she could not blame him if he wanted nothing to do with her family ever again.

She dreamed of Lucas every night and woke in the mornings with a dull thud of disappointment when she realized that the man who had walked through her dreams was a ghost, no longer beside her. She knew that people said that in time such pain grew easier, but it did not feel like that to her.

One morning Lady Medway came into the parlor where she was playing a solitary game of cards. The weather had turned cold and dull, too chilly to sit out in the garden, and Christina was feeling cooped up and miserable. Lady Medway’s demeanor, though, was full of repressed excitement.

“There is a gentleman to see you, my lady,” she said.

Christina’s heart did a giddy swoop only to dive down to her feet again when she saw the gentleman in question was not Lucas. This man was older, spare, sandy, travel stained as he handed his cloak to the overawed housemaid.

“I am Sidmouth, Lady Christina,” the man said, appraising her with sharp gray eyes. “I am not at all pleased to make your acquaintance.” He came into the room and strolled over to warm his hands before the fire. Lady Medway’s housekeeper bustled in with a tray of tea and biscuits. It was clear that Lady Medway herself wanted to be party to the conversation, but Lord Sidmouth dismissed her with a very courteous inclination of the head and a word of thanks.

“I am honored to meet you, my lord,” Christina said when they were alone. Her heart beat hard. She had never expected that the home secretary himself would pass judgment on her case, least of all that he would come all the way to Scotland to do it. “Will you take a seat?”

“Think I’ll stand,” Sidmouth said peremptorily. “I’ve been sitting down for the past several days.” He laid an arm along the mantel. “You’ve caused me a great deal of trouble, young woman,” he said. “I don’t appreciate being obliged to leave London and come haring up to the Highlands like this. Scotland ain’t my favorite place, y’know.”

“I’m sorry for that, my lord,” Christina said politely.

“Ah, well...” Sidmouth took a long swallow of the tea and selected a biscuit from the tray. “It was the only way I was going to get any peace. I suppose I should tell you first—” he sighed “—that your brother Lachlan has escaped justice and fled abroad. That problem, at least, was taken out of my hands.” He looked at her from beneath lowering brows. “A pity that you did not see fit to do the same, madam. But I suppose one member of the family at least had to show a bit of backbone.”

It was the closest to a compliment she was going to get out of Lord Sidmouth, Christina thought.

“You have powerful friends, ma’am,” Sidmouth continued, “and they wouldn’t let the matter rest. Methven and Rutherford.” Sidmouth sighed. “Petitioning me all the time for a pardon for you. Damned nuisance they made of themselves.”

Christina felt a flicker of warmth. “That was good of them,” she said. She had had no notion; it had been strange and disorienting to be so cut off from her friends and family, but now she realized that all the time they had been working to help her. She swallowed a lump in her throat.

Sidmouth had not mentioned Lucas yet. She tried not to care.

“As for your sisters!” Sidmouth’s brows snapped down. “Two more determined women would be difficult to find. Do you know what they did? Sent me a bottle of your finest peat-reek, madam. Told me the crime was not the distilling of it but my attempts to ban it!”

Christina smothered a smile. That sounded very like Lucy and Mairi. “Did you taste it, my lord?” she asked.

Sidmouth glared at her. “I might have done. Whisky ain’t my tipple, but I have to admit it was damned fine.” He sighed again. “Which is nothing to the purpose. You’ve given me a damned problem, ma’am. Wanted to make an example of the Kilmory Gang, but I can’t imprison the daughter of a duke and you won’t let me imprison the rest of the gang without you. So—” his glare became even more ferocious “—seems you’ll all have to go free, which is most unsatisfactory. But Mr. Black has given surety against your good behavior. He is the one who will pay the fines if you renege, and the rest of the gang, as well.”

“I beg your pardon?” Christina said. Her hand shook as she refilled the teacups and handed Sidmouth’s to him. The spoon rattled loudly in the saucer. “Mr. Black?”

“Lucas Black,” Sidmouth repeated impatiently. “He was worse than the rest of them put together! Came all the way to London to speak with me on your behalf. He threatened to expose Eyre’s behavior to the press if I didn’t release you. I almost had to arrest him for blackmail.”

“That was foolish of him,” Christina said faintly.

“Well, there’s no fool like a man in love,” Sidmouth said, suddenly and unexpectedly sentimental. He put a hand inside his jacket and drew out a letter. “He asked me to give you this.” He smiled at her. “There’s a carriage waiting to take you home when you are ready, Lady Christina.” He looked at her. “It would be good to know that in future you turn your talents to a more domestic sphere, madam. I don’t want to have to arrest you again.”

“Whatever I do,” Christina said, “I certainly won’t be giving you that opportunity, my lord.” Sidmouth laughed and kissed her hand, surprising them both with his gallantry.

When he had gone out, Christina looked at the letter lying so innocently on the table. She had a sudden craven urge not to open it, and when she picked it up her hand shook. She slid open the seal and unfolded it.

“My dearest Christina...”

She felt the tears catch in her throat.

By now I imagine Sidmouth will have told you that if you ever brew the peat-reek again he will lock you up and throw away the key. I have given surety for your good behavior, but there is a price for my help.

As you know, I am a businessman. I feel it would be a terrible waste if you were not to use the undoubted talent you have for whisky distilling in the future. I am therefore making available to you a sum that will enable you to establish a whisky distillery of your own, a small one, perhaps, to start with, but one where you can take that undoubted talent you have and use it legally to distill the best whisky in Scotland. When the time comes that you can afford to pay me back, I expect the sum returned in full—with interest, of course.

Christina gave a gasp that was half laughter, half tears, wholly shock. She remembered telling Lucas that it would be a dream to have her own distillery. He was giving her the means to pursue that dream. He had faith in her. He had put the world into her hands.

Except that this new world would be a lonely place if Lucas were not part of it, too. Her heart beat fiercely as she stood up and hurried toward the door. She had to find Lucas; it did not matter if he was in Edinburgh or London or Russia. She would go to the ends of the earth if she had to. She had to find him and marry him and after that she would set up her distillery and it would be the best one in Scotland, of that she was determined.

She was vaguely aware of Lady Medway’s startled face as she rushed toward the front door.

“Lady Christina,” Lady Medway called, “your luggage, your cloak—”

“Please send my belongings on to me,” Christina said. “Although I am not sure where I am going.” She stopped, turned back and hugged the startled matron very tightly.

“Thank you,” she said. “You have been very generous to a stranger in your home. I’ll never forget your kindness.”

“Oh!” The tears started in Lady Medway’s eyes and she hugged her back. “Oh, Lady Christina, you are nothing like I imagined a criminal to be!”

Out in the street there were two carriages waiting and what looked like an enormous crowd. Christina stopped, blinked. Standing by the first carriage was a tall figure she recognized.

“Lucas!” Christina threw herself into his arms and felt them close around her. All her fears and unhappiness melted like mist in the sun then. He was real and solid and he held her as though he was never going to let her go.

“I thought you had not come,” she said. Her voice shook. “Oh, Lucas! I was afraid that after what Lachlan did you might never want to see me again....” She stopped as he kissed her.

“This has nothing to do with Lachlan,” he said against her lips. “This is about you and me, Christina.” She could feel his smile. “Your family sends their love,” he added, releasing her a little but still keeping her within the circle of his arms. “They wanted to be here to witness our wedding, but Mairi has just been delivered of a baby girl and even she thought it wise not to travel quite yet. Besides, perhaps it was wrong of me, but I wanted you to myself for a little while.” He kissed her again with love and sweetness and promise. “So Lord Sidmouth has agreed to give you away, and Sir Anthony and Lady Medway are to be our witnesses. I hope you are agreeable?”

“A niece!” Christina said. She felt dazed, overwhelmed, her heart bursting with happiness. “Mairi is well?”

“Perfectly,” Lucas said. “She sends her love. And Jack is the most doting father imaginable. But the wedding?” Then, as Christina nodded and smiled brilliantly at him, he tucked her hand through his arm and turned toward the kirk. “I should tell you that your father withheld his consent,” he added, “but I told him that no power on earth would make me give you up, so he had better get used to the idea.”

Christina felt the warmth unfurl in her heart like a flower opening. “Thank you,” she said. “I am pleased to have the chance to elope with you.”

Lucas laughed. “With the blessing of the home secretary as well as the church.”

Outside the kirk, Lucas paused, his hand on hers, and drew her a little aside so that the others could not overhear. “After we are wed,” he said, and Christina sensed a sudden hesitation in him, “I thought...I wondered if we might go to the Black Strath.” He touched her cheek very gently. “This is your doing, Christina. I thought I needed no one and no place that I could call home.” His gaze was riveted on her face. “I hated my father’s legacy and tried to ignore it, but I saw how you had transformed Kilmory, how much you wanted people to belong and how much you cared. I realized that I wanted that, too.” He swallowed hard, and Christina saw that this was still difficult for him, that he was confronting the past and it was painful.

“I tried to push my heritage away,” Lucas said. “I tried to push
you
away, but it was too late. I wanted you and I wanted us to have a home together.” He cupped her face in his hands. “I am not very good at belonging yet,” he said roughly, “but I love you and I believe we can transform the Black Strath into our home.”

“I think we can do that together,” Christina agreed. She reached up and kissed him. “As long as there is a suitable site there for my distillery,” she added.

Lucas laughed. “There is a stream, and a bothy...”

“Then that will be perfect,” Christina said. She felt the joy rise up in her and held it tightly, as tightly as she was holding Lucas’s hand. “Shall we?” she said.

The door of the kirk swung open. Lady Medway put a bouquet of white roses into her hands and they stepped forward into their future.

* * * * *

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ISBN-13: 9781460336670

CLAIMED BY THE LAIRD

Copyright © 2014 by Nicola Cornick

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