Chapter Nine
Elizabet watched Jack ride off with a sinking heart. Her real life beckoned. One that included familial obligations, rules, and etiquette. Most definitely not a dashing highwayman who could set her blood to fire with a mere brush of his lips. Jack would live only in her fantasies now. Perhaps she should take to riding around in carriages full of treasure and see if she could instigate another meeting. Though she’d probably succeed in encountering only an outlaw with no sense of honor and gallantry. Jack was a breed unto himself. Any other highwayman she might meet would mean only danger or death for her.
Jack had left her in the dark of night near the main road within sight of a respectable inn. He’d given her more than enough money to hire a carriage and keep the innkeeper from asking too many questions. He’d promised he’d watch her from the tree line until she’d safely entered the inn, protecting her still. But, of course, he couldn’t accompany her all the way to her home. Or risk being seen at all.
Arriving home in the wee hours of the morning had garnered the expected reaction. The sleepy butler had taken one look at her and sent a squealing maid running for her mother. And then all hell had quietly broken loose.
Elizabet knew her parents wouldn’t be happy about what had happened but she’d assumed, hoped, that their anger would be aimed at the man who’d taken her. Not that she wanted Jack in trouble, but he wasn’t there and knew how to keep himself out of harm’s way. She probably should have known better.
Her mother ushered her straight to her room and closed the door before anyone else could enter.
“Tell me quickly. Are you…harmed?” she asked.
Elizabet frowned. “I was shot but my arm—”
“No, no,” her mother said, waving that away. “I mean…are you…intact?” She whispered the last word as if it were filth coating the inside of her mouth, her face flushing red in the light of the candles.
The temptation to tell her mother that her maidenhead remained intact despite enthusiastic willingness on her part to depart with it burned strong. But the wild look in her mother’s eye held her tongue. Barely.
“Yes, Mother. Aside from my arm I have not been harmed in any way.”
Her mother heaved a great sigh of relief, and Elizabet resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Gunshot wounds, those were fine. Bullets could enter her as long as a man didn’t.
“And your arm is healed now?” her mother added.
“Yes, Mother. It’s fine.” At least her mother showed some concern over her health, virginity aside, however minimal.
“Well, we’ll have the doctor take a quick look. Just to be sure.”
She opened the door and invited in the doctor, then sent the maids scurrying in all directions, bringing hot water, linens, food, and tea. Elizabet’s surprise at the fuss her mother raised quickly evaporated when she remembered her main value as their ticket out of the poorhouse. In her mother’s mind, at least.
Elizabet wanted to argue but knew it would do no good. Nothing she said would matter anymore. She kept her mouth shut, answering the doctor’s questions with as little information as possible. Once the doctor confirmed that Elizabet was all right and her wound had healed rather nicely, her mother shooed everyone out again, her concern focused on other things.
“Did anyone see you getting out of the carriage?” she asked.
Elizabet sighed and pressed back against her pillows, closing her eyes. “No, Mother. I don’t think anyone saw me.”
Her mother twisted the handkerchief in her hands. “I do wish you had chosen a more appropriate time to arrive. What if someone did see you? Arriving in the dead of night, in a strange carriage, completely unaccompanied.”
“Arriving in broad daylight would have made more of a spectacle. After all, in the dead of night I wasn’t likely to be seen, as most people are in bed sleeping.”
“I do not care for your tone, Elizabet. This is a serious matter!”
Elizabet bit her tongue to keep from making any more sarcastic comments. She’d known what she’d be meeting when she arrived home and, aside from the slight display of concern, her family hadn’t disappointed her. Her father had yet to even stop in and see her.
“We must keep Mr. Ramsay from discovering anything about this…distasteful business.”
Elizabet gaped at her. “I’ve been gone for more than a month, Mother. Where does he think I’ve been?”
“We’ve put it around that you’ve been ill.”
Elizabet’s eyes widened with surprise and hurt. “You didn’t tell the authorities? You had no one looking for me?” The small fissure in her heart that had her mother’s name on it cracked open wider. “Didn’t you care at all?”
Her mother’s eyes widened. “Of course we cared. We were trying to protect your reputation! What do you think would become of you if it came to be known you’ve spent the last month God-knows-where with a man not your husband? And a villainous highwayman at that! Look at what harm a mere hour in his unchaperoned presence did. Offers for your hand virtually disappeared. A whole month with him? You’d be ruined. We had assumed there would be a ransom demand for you.”
“And when no ransom demand came?”
Lady Dawsey’s lips pursed. Then the fight seemed to drain out of her. “I don’t know. I…your father…” She walked over and slumped onto a chair near the bed, leaning back against the cushions with a tired sigh.
Elizabet hesitated to say anything, not sure if she trusted this calmer version of her mother.
Lady Dawsey sat up and took her hands. “My dear child. I know you think I’m some sort of terrible monster, but I have only your best interests at heart. You’re home. Safe. Unharmed and unspoiled, by the grace of God.”
Elizabet opened her mouth to argue that point but thought better of it. Her shoulder still ached. But she didn’t think her mother would appreciate being corrected. And informing her that she was unspoiled only because the highwayman in question had too much honor would most certainly be received poorly.
Lady Dawsey continued. “Fergus Ramsay is a good man with a good family name and connections and enough money to keep you extremely comfortable for the rest of your days. He is even relatively young and handsome, which is a far sight better than most get. There is not a girl around who wouldn’t be thrilled to be his wife. I love you too much to risk all of that. Whether it was your doing or not, what happened to you could ruin any chances of your marriage. Mr. Ramsay might have been willing to take you after your accident in the woods, as he himself was there to witness your condition upon being found. But even he would not want you with such a scandal as this attached to your name. All anyone must know is that you were ill.”
Elizabet weighed her words carefully. She knew her mother had her future in mind. All their futures. And she couldn’t tell her that Fergus would stop at nothing to marry her. She could make love to every member of the king’s privy council in full sight of the entire court and Fergus would take her with open arms. As the means to an end, Elizabet had very little to do with why Fergus desired a union with her.
With her father and Fergus set on this union, there would be no escape. She needed to start coming to terms with it.
Elizabet’s heart would never pound in her chest when Fergus was near, except perhaps in fear or disgust. She wouldn’t dream of him night after night, or find herself staring off into space as she relived every moment of their time together. But she had little choice in the matter. And he would ensure her comfort, if not her happiness. It was more than many women got. No one got the man they truly wanted.
And perhaps if she were to wed Fergus, she could discover his plans, warn Jack if Fergus were planning anything that would harm him. She’d never be with Jack, but if she had to marry Fergus, maybe she could make some good come of it.
Her mother still waited for a response. “I understand, Mother. I know I’m lucky to have Mr. Ramsay. I won’t jeopardize our agreement.”
Lady Dawsey breathed an audible sigh of relief. “Good. Now, close your eyes and get some rest.”
“Yes, Mother.”
“Elizabet.”
She glanced back at her mother.
“I am truly glad you are home.”
Elizabet smiled, warmth spreading through her at her mother’s words, despite the ache in her heart left by her highwayman. “I am too.”
…
John tossed back another whisky and snatched his wig from his head.
“Take care with that, aye?” Philip said, picking it up and placing it on the head form on the table. “We don’t have time to repair it before the ball.”
“Good. I hate wearing the thing.”
Philip raised an eyebrow, and John sighed. “Sorry, Philip. I’m out of sorts today.”
“And every day since ye let the Lady Elizabet go,” Philip muttered.
John’s gaze shot to Philip’s. “She has nothing to do with it. I’m merely preoccupied with figuring out a way to prove what that bastard Campbell and Lord Dawsey are up to. Three more bodies were fished from the Thames last night, did ye hear? People who Will tells me had been seen with Fergus earlier in the day and who own an inn that Dawsey is known to frequent. That canna be a coincidence. We must discover the evidence we need to bring them to justice. For all the innocents they’ve hurt,” he said, his voice growing gruff at the memory of his brother.
“Aye. Agreed. But that’s no cause for the snit ye’ve been in these past weeks.”
John ignored him and downed another slug of whisky.
Philip shook his head. “It’s no’ a weakness to admit ye have feelings for the lass.”
John’s jaw clenched, but finally he shook his head. “Aye, it is. She’s Dawsey’s daughter. If it werena bad enough that the man is a liar, thief, and traitor to his king, he’s had me watched day and night since we returned to London. I dinna ken why. I must ha’ done something to raise his suspicions. Or perhaps it’s only my name. If he’s working with Fergus, they may be planning to pin the highwayman’s deeds on me, not even knowing that I am the highwayman, simply to harm a MacGregor. Gain the king’s favor by turning in a criminal and take down a MacGregor in one shot. They’d not care if it was the truth or not.”
“Though it is.”
“Aye, but they dinna ken that. Yet. One thing is certain, he’d like nothing so much as to see me fall. Feelings for his daughter would be…ill-advised.”
Philip snorted. “It’s my general position that feelings for any woman are ill-advised. Be that as it may, ye have them and ye need to deal with them so ye can keep yer wits about ye.”
John still wasn’t ready to admit anything, out loud at least. “What has any of this to do with tonight’s torture?”
“Because it’s the first time ye might see the lady since ye let her go. What if she recognizes ye and causes a scene?”
John’s heart jumped. A part of him, a very large part, hoped she would recognize him. He wanted her to know his true identity. The more rational part of him knew that would be a horrible idea. He’d worn a mask around her for a reason. One word to her father, even unintentionally, and he was done for. No. She could never know the truth.
“I dinna think she’ll recognize me. But I’ll keep my distance from her to be safe.”
Philip watched him carefully until John scowled.
“It would be a far sight easier to avoid her if we simply didna go tonight,” Philip said.
“Aye, but showing my smiling face around court as much as possible helps deflect the rumors. Nobody expects the Highland Highwayman to frequent balls and dance attendance on the king. The more I’m seen, the less suspicion is placed on me.”
Philip sighed. “Aye, I understand that. I just dinna like it.”
“That makes two of us.”
“I’d feel better about it all if I didna think ye were still nursing a bruised heart over the lass.”
John released an exasperated sigh. “How can I have a bruised heart? We spent only a few weeks together.”
“Time has got nothing to do with it. Everyone could see how the two of you were together. If circumstances had been different…”
“But they were not different,” John snapped. He took a deep breath and got himself under control. “I healed her, I brought her home. That is the end of it. I havena had any contact with her since, and I have no reason to believe she wants it any other way. It’s over. I took care to stay masked in her presence. Even if she were to see me, there’s no reason for her to connect the gentleman courtier with the highwayman who took her captive.”
“I pray you are right. Because one word from her is all it will take to sow the seeds of suspicion.”
John wasn’t all that sure Elizabet would say anything even if she did recognize him. She’d had her chance when the soldiers had descended in the cottage… She had feelings for him. He believed. Staking his life on it was a different matter, however.
“It will be fine, Philip.”
“Have a care, Cousin. That’s all I’m asking. Ye’ll never discover what Campbell is up to from the inside of a dungeon.”
“Aye, I ken that well. Dinna fash.”
Philip shook his head and grinned. “It’s too late for that,” he said, clapping him on the shoulder. “But I’ll try to keep it in check.”
John snorted. “That’s the best I’ll get, I suppose.” He grabbed the wig and stuck it back on his head. “Let’s get this over with.”
John had every intention of keeping his distance from Elizabet. If he even saw her. Her family had been keeping her well secluded since her return. A fact that, while not surprising, had still concerned him. Of course, they’d want to keep her close after her “ordeal.” Though he’d been taken aback at the nature of the rumors surrounding her sudden absence from court.
There hadn’t been one whisper of Dawsey’s run-in with the Highland Highwayman. That had been a surprise. He’d been certain Dawsey would be screaming about being robbed by the outlaw the second his runaway carriage had stopped. Instead, not a word about any of it.
Then again, perhaps it wasn’t too surprising. After all, if Dawsey mentioned the robbery, he’d also need to mention what was taken. And he probably didn’t want to advertise how much money he had, or that he had the habit of carrying it around in his carriage with him. If that were known, John and his men wouldn’t be the only band of thieves lying in wait for the man.
As for Elizabet’s disappearance, her family had blamed her absence on a lingering illness. The only whispers about the validity of that claim centered around whether she were truly ill, or off somewhere delivering an illegitimate child before returning to court to proclaim her virginal innocence to everyone. She certainly wouldn’t be the first young lady to go off and visit a distant relative for a time, only to return with a flatter belly.
The weight of guilt John carried lightened slightly at the knowledge that their adventure hadn’t irreparably harmed her reputation. Though a part of him mourned that fact. Now there were no impediments to her inevitable marriage.
Then he turned and saw her. Standing with another young woman, radiant in a sky-blue gown with a pale-yellow underskirt, laughing as her friend whispered something in her ear. He should leave. Turn his face. Lose himself in the crowd. Something, anything to keep her from seeing him. He hadn’t lied to Philip. He really didn’t think she’d recognize him. But if he had any wits left in his brain at all, he wouldn’t tempt fate.
Instead, he remained rooted to his spot, his eyes locked on her.
And then she looked up. Her gaze passed over him and darted back. Her brow creased, her head tilted ever so slightly to the side, as if she were working out a puzzle. She gave him a vague smile and went back to talking to her friend.
John gasped slightly at the unexpected pain that shot through his chest. She didn’t recognize him. That was good. Wonderful. Except for the sharp pain spiking through his shredded heart. Selfish pain he had no right to.
He moved slowly around the room, speaking with acquaintances, making small talk until his head was ready to jump from his shoulders. And all the while, he kept his gaze firmly trained on Elizabet.
He knew he courted danger. Knew the foolish recklessness of his actions. And he didn’t care.
The mere sight of her again was worth any price.