Rumors Among the Heather (9 page)

Bowing low and
brushing a kiss across her hand, he said, “Miss Hastings, may I
congratulate you. You put all the other ladies here to shame with
your radiance.”

Matthew watched with
annoyance as Julie shuttered her expression. She always did this
when he paid her a compliment. Irritably, he wondered why it made a
difference to him, but it did.

“You are too kind, my
lord,” Julie said icily.

“You remind me of a
diamond. Brilliant and fiery to look at, but cold to the touch,” he
said with a sneer. His confusion and hurt at her attitude gouged a
wound in his heart.

“I’m reminded of a
legend my mother told me once about diamonds. Diamonds are really
teardrops. Tears which have been shed for lost love. The tears drop
to earth and are forged by fire to form diamonds. I don’t think
tears of fire would suit me. I much prefer pearls of wisdom,” Julie
countered.

“I never cross swords
with you, Miss Hastings, without feeling the cut of your rapier
tongue. Now, may I get some refreshment for you?” Matthew smiled
into those wide expressive eyes. He stood motionless, despite his
unsettled feelings, lost in their beauty.

“Thank you, but Ian
has taken on that task.”

Matthew stiffened and
turned away abruptly.

His sudden departure
left Julie surprised and confused. She tried to put her emotions
out of her mind, and concentrated instead on her charge. Ian seemed
to be enjoying the excitement of his first rout, but before long he
grew tired and wanted to leave. Julie took him up to bed and came
back to sit with Lord Bonnleigh’s widowed aunt, Marie
MacDonald.

Julie found Mrs.
MacDonald to be a tiresome woman at best, who enjoyed her poor
health to the limit. She feigned interest as she recited all her
ailments in great detail. It took all of Julie’s concentration not
to fall asleep.

Mrs. MacDonald’s
intimate friends stopped by, so she had fresh ears to hear her
latest ailments. Julie was forced to give up her seat. Mrs.
MacDonald finally remembered her disenchanted companion and gave
Julie leave to go.

She wandered outside
for some fresh air. Aimlessly, she strolled along the terrace until
a young man walked over to her. This was the first time she had
noticed him. Perhaps
he
was the mysterious guest. There was
something charismatic about his demeanor. He carried himself with
the assurance of one who never lacked for attention.

He bowed and said,
“Permit me to introduce myself, mademoiselle. I am a guest of Lord
Bonnleigh, so I feel I need not stand on formalities. Charles
Edward Louis Stuart, at your service,” he said and clicked his
heels in a formal salute. “May I claim you for the last dance?”

“Sire, I am sorry, but
I’m still in mourning for my father, making it improper for me to
dance, but I thank you,” Julie responded. She had longed to dance
all evening, but knew she should not.

“It would be in poor
taste perhaps to dance in the ballroom, but out here where no one
will see? I think it will not be improper.”

“You must not mistake
me for one of the guests, my lord. I am merely the governess.
Again, I thank you, but I cannot dance.”

“Mademoiselle, you are
by far the loveliest lady here. I do not care if you are the
gardener. All that matters to me is that I hold a lovely lady in my
arms for the next dance. Please, mademoiselle, do not deny me. I
would be honored to dance with you on the terrace where no one will
see. What do you say?”

She could not refuse
this charismatic man. “My lord,” Julie curtsied and said, “It is I
who would be honored.”

The enchanted strains
of a minuet poured from the ballroom. The music swirled around
them. The prince smiled at her, and she smiled back. Although he
appeared to be a little inebriated, he danced beautifully. He also
seemed to be amused.

She offered another
smile. “The rumors we’ve heard all summer must be true, then. You
have returned home.
”

“Oui, mademoiselle. If
I had known the ladies were as lovely as you, I would have returned
sooner,” he said.

Julie laughed in spite
of herself. She could not remember meeting anyone so charming. He
exuded appeal as well as style and grace. It was not what he said
or how he looked, but he drew her to him. When the dance ended, he
led her to a seat on the terrace and stayed to talk. They were not
alone for long. Soon his admirers found him. An expansive group of
men gathered around the prince.

“I hear King George
has offered a handsome reward for your capture. I’ve also heard he
uses a word from the French and calls you the Pretender. What say
ye?” o ne of the male guests asked.

A hush fell on the
group as they waited for Prince Charles’s answer. A servant came
through the door and replenished everyone’s drinks. When he left,
the group’s eyes once again turned to Prince Charles.

“Two can play at this
king’s game, mes amis. I have put out a reward for anyone who will
seize the Elector of Hanover and bring him to me. Britain will be
well rid of the Germans, I think,” Prince Charles said, raising his
glass high.

A roar went up from
those assembled. Hats and wigs were tossed, and toasts were made.
Their pledges of support brought forth much laughter and the
drinking of many toasts to the prince. More people than ever were
crowding around him. Julie soon found herself pushed out of the
inner circle.

She welcomed her
chance to escape. She grew dispirited as the night wore on and
found she could not explain why.

* * *

Matthew had valiantly
tried to keep Julie in his sights all evening, and he’d seen her go
out on the terrace, and the prince follow. Unobserved, he watched
their impromptu dance. How she smiled and looked at the prince with
undisguised enjoyment. He wondered why she could not look at him in
that same breath-stealing way. The more she rebuffed him, the more
he wanted her. She’d become an obsession to him. Lost in thought,
he failed to hear Ribble come up behind him.

“My lord, it’s almost
time,” Ribble whispered.

“Everything is
ready?”

“Aye, the guards are
in place. You’ll not be disturbed.”

The clock struck the
hour, and the time to speak to the many Highland chiefs he had
invited to the party was nigh. Quietly, they all slipped away from
the ballroom and began to fill every inch of the library. Matthew
posted Ribble outside the main door for added security.

“I guess you know why
I’ve invited all of you here. No doubt you have seen Prince
Charles, and you know his mission,” Matthew began.

One of the older
chieftains spoke up. “Aye, thirty years ago I stood with his
father, James Stuart. I’m too old to start a losing campaign all
over again. Tell him to leave Scotland in peace. There is nothing
for him or his father here. We are a tired people—tired of wars and
rumors of wars.”

“I disagree. We can
win and put the rightful king on the throne. Let’s once and for all
rid ourselves of these Germans. I say if we band together, we can
run King George into the sea. There are no better fighting men in
the whole of Britain than our bonnie Highlanders,” Matthew argued
passionately.

“You’re a fine one to
be urging us to fight. You’re more English than Scot. How do we
know this is not a bloody English trick? You’re talking treason,
and I for one will have no part in it.” Jeremy MacLaren fairly
shouted his words.

Before Matthew could
defend himself, another man spoke up. “There is much truth in that,
Bonnleigh. These last ten years you have been more in London and
Paris than you have been in Scotland. You even have an English
governess for your nephew. You carry an English lord’s title. What
do you know of Scotland? For all we know, this is a trap.”

“A man doesn’t always
have to have his feet where his heart is. Scotland is my home, and
I pledge my allegiance to her. I’ve made no secret of the fact that
I have an English governess teaching my nephew. Ian will be
educated in the old and the new ways. Scotland can no longer afford
to isolate herself from the rest of the world. I challenge any man
to prove these insults. I pledge my life and my fortune to the true
king and his son, Prince Charles,” Matthew hurled back at the
group. “Can any man do more?”

From the back of the
room, the sound of clapping was heard, and then Prince Charles
stepped into the light. A bit shaky on his feet, he held onto a
chair to steady himself. Drunk or not, he still commanded respect.
The room became as quiet as a church before prayer.

“No truer words were
ever spoken. I come to you as an envoy of the true king, and I ask
your help. I pledge my life for the cause with the same fervor as
any other true Scotsman!”

“Go home, Prince
Charles. There is nothing for you here,” shouted an older
chieftain.

“I am home! I would
rather die among the heather in these beloved mountains than live
to old age in France. I ask you, are there six men among you
willing to back me in this just cause?”

“Stay in these
mountains you call home and learn your fate from the newspapers,”
James MacLeod said sarcastically.

“That’s what I
will
not
do. If you fight, then by heaven, I’ll fight by your side
till we taste sweet victory! I say this for my father, the true
king of Scotland and England. It chafes my pride that a German
should presume to rule Britain, let alone Scotland. He cares not
what happens to us. He has not even troubled himself to learn our
language. I give you the true king, James Stuart.” Prince Charles
held his glass up in a toast.

Then with the infinite
charisma he’d always owned, he began to win them over. One by one
he charmed his way into each of the fierce chieftains’ hearts. By
the time the clock struck midnight, everyone there had pledged
their support, save one: Jeremy MacLaren.

Matthew was well
pleased with the meeting and the prince. Just as quietly as they
came, they filed back into the ballroom. Music played on as he
scanned the room. He did not see Julie anywhere. Impatiently, he
went in search of her.

* * *

Julie strolled through
the formal gardens until she found a seat sheltered from the wind.
She sat down and tried to think what all this would mean to her.
Should she go away before the war started? If she stayed, would the
MacDonald name be enough to protect her?

Hasty footsteps echoed
behind her. Julie caught her breath in surprise when she turned to
see Geoffrey bearing down on her. “Julie, I’ve tried to find a
chance to talk to you all night. If you didn’t have the brat, you
had a crowd of old biddies around you. Please listen to what I have
to say,” he said anxiously.

“Geoffrey, I have
nothing more to say to you. Please leave me alone. Your persistence
is annoying,” Julie said, shaking her head. She turned away, trying
to ignore him.

Geoffrey stepped in
front of her. “Julie, you don’t understand. I came to warn you. The
man all the pretty women were dancing with was Prince Charles. He’s
come here to gather the Highland chiefs together to reclaim the
throne for the Stuarts. Don’t you understand this means war?”

“What has war to do
with me? I’m not political, or a soldier. I don’t care who sits on
the throne. It’s been my experience kings are not overly concerned
with the welfare of their subjects. It makes no difference who
rules. They are all the same in the end,” Julie said in hushed
tones.

“There are services
you can perform for your country. Don’t you understand? Lord
Bonnleigh is a leader among the Jacobites. He will sway many to
follow the prince. You’re in an excellent position to find out his
plans and to discover who is loyal to King George. You could pass
the word to me when you come over to the mainland on your day off.
People have seen us together before. No one would think anything of
it.”

Julie sat watching
Geoffrey in stunned silence. He had conspired to do this all along.
He did not come to Gairloch to see her but to recruit her as a
spy.

When she found her
voice, she asked, “Are you mad, Geoffrey? I will not spy for you or
anyone. Lord Bonnleigh has been kind to me. I will not repay his
benevolence in this way. I think you’d better leave before I tell
him what you’ve asked me to do.”

“If you won’t do it
for your country, then do it for me. If I succeed in my mission, I
am promised a reward and a title. We could be together. We wouldn’t
have to wait. Do this for me…for us,” he said and reached for her
hand.

Julie quickly drew her
hand away. “There is no
us
, and there never will be.
Remember Angela?”

“Julie, I explained
about my marriage. She’s not important to us.”

“I can’t make this any
plainer than I already have. I may have loved you once, but I do
not love you now. You’re making me very tired. Please go.” Julie
turned to leave.

“You’re in love with
him, aren’t you?” Geoffrey spat out angrily.

When she ignored his
outrageous statement, he grabbed her and tried to kiss her. Julie
struggled, but he pinned her against him. She tried shaking her
head and squirming to break free, but he kept forcing her into the
hedge. She bit his lip and tasted blood. He loosened his grip long
enough to bring his hand to his mouth. Julie saw her chance to
escape and ran, but he grabbed her and slapped her hard across the
face.

“Witch! I mean to have
you, and I will!” he sneered and began dragging her down on the
lawn.

* * *

Matthew’s rush to find
Julie put him in the garden in time to hear Geoffrey’s threat. He
grabbed the blackguard by the shoulders, turned him around, and
delivered a smashing blow to his jaw. This sent Geoffrey sprawling
across the lawn, but he quickly rolled to his feet, ready to
fight.