A Highlander's Heart: A Sexy Regency Romance (Highland Knights Book 1) (8 page)

A few hours later, the two carriages bearing five officers and two sergeants of the Gordon Highlanders came to a halt. Rob looked out the carriage window and frowned. “This isna the War Office.”

Stirling’s brows rose. “What is it, then?”

“The Home Office,” Rob said.

“The
Home
Office?” Stirling repeated, confused.

“Aye. I’ll tell the driver he’s brought us to the wrong place.”

The driver opened the door and gestured them out.

“Ye’ve made a mistake. This is the Home Office, no’ the War Office.”

The man gave Rob a tight smile. “Those were my orders, sir. To bring you to the Home Office.”

Rob and Stirling exchanged a glance. Then they both exited the carriage, joined the other men, and approached the building. When they reached the door, a tall, thin man wearing spectacles opened it. He took one look at the Highlanders assembled on the landing and said, “Major Sir Robert Campbell?”

“Aye.”

The bespectacled man gave a brusque nod. “Follow me, please.”

They were taken down a long corridor, up a flight of stairs, through a labyrinth-like passageway and up another flight of stairs. Finally, the man stopped at an unremarkable door, one exactly the same as several others they’d passed. “Major Campbell only, please. The rest of you are required to wait for the time being.”

Rob glanced at his men and gave a slight nod.

The man opened the door and gestured Rob in. When he stepped into the small office, the door was snapped shut behind him, leaving him alone in the room with a short man with a balding pate and bushy gray eyebrows, who rose from behind a desk to greet him.

“Major Campbell, I presume.”

“Aye.”

“Very good to meet you, sir.” The man held out his hand. “I am Henry Adams.”

Rob shook Adams’s hand, noting the confident, firm grip.

“Please be seated.” Adams gestured to the several chairs placed on the other side of his desk. Rob took the one in the center of the group.

Adams opened a folder on his desk. “I’ve just been reading over your service record, and that of your men. It is very impressive.”

He paused, as if expecting a response. When Rob didn’t provide one, he continued, “You and your 92nd Regiment performed admirably at Waterloo last week, which must have been a challenge given the loss of your colonel at Quatre Bras.”

“Our men were well trained. And the colonel prepared me for the possibility that I might have to take his place one day,” Rob said stiffly.

“Your regiment was also instrumental on the Peninsula. And your service, of course, was exemplary. There has been much written about your rescue of Wellington as well as your prowess in battle, you’ve married an English earl’s daughter, and you’ve become somewhat of a national hero over the past few years.”

Rob stared at Adams, willing the man to get to his point.

“You’re probably wondering why we’ve asked you here,” Adams said, his smile bordering on sheepish.

Probably?
“Aye,” Rob said gruffly.

“Then I’ll get straight to the crux of the matter, Major. You have proven yourself a great patriot, and this country needs you.”

Rob’s brows rose. “In what capacity?”

“Ah, well, allow me to explain. I am the leader of an agency within the government unknown to the public. We work within the country to protect the interests of the monarchy. We have intercepted French spies, stopped plots against the king and the royal family, and served our country in countless ways since our inception twenty years ago.”

Rob leaned forward, listening with interest, his mind churning.

“Now that the battle with Napoleon appears to be behind us, we must return our attention to the problems at home. You see, Major, there has been civil unrest, especially in the north. This turbulence is unknown to most of the populace, but left unchecked, the situation is apt to become serious indeed.”

“Is it?”

Adams nodded soberly. “A certain level of dissatisfaction with government is to be expected, of course, but this appears to be more severe. It appears to be verging on treason. Per our accounts, there are cells of rebels in Scotland, most centering in the sparsely populated areas of the Highlands.”

Rob leaned back. The pieces of this puzzle were falling into place. “And ye wish for us to stop them.”

“Not only them, Major. I want you to consider making this your life’s work. Those of you who are officers will retire your commissions and the sergeants will be discharged. You and your men will join together as civilians with the singular goal of keeping the country we love safe from harm. You will no longer be sent to foreign lands for the army, but you will remain in England and Scotland, working solely in the interests of the monarchy. You will put a stop to treasonous and seditious acts. You will protect the crown at all costs.”

“And what’ll I be receiving in return for possibly sacrificing my life for this cause?”

“A generous living. Land and houses in both England and Scotland. And the peace of mind that you are protecting your country from those who would destroy it.”

“And why’d ye choose us?” Rob asked. “It didna escape our notice that we’ve all links to the gentry.”

“All of you save the sergeants.”

“Who were chosen by myself,” Rob said.

Adams gazed at Rob appraisingly. “It is because many of your tasks will require you to be in positions of power. Your links to the aristocracy will open doors for you that would be slammed in your face otherwise. Some of the most atrocious acts in this country are committed by people in power, and in the most insidious ways. We needed to choose intelligent, industrious men who had the power and connections to stop such deeds.

“And as for the sergeants,” he continued. “We reasoned that they might give you perspective when you were called upon to perform your duties in less exalted circles.”

Rob’s lips tightened. The man spoke as if Rob had no idea what “less exalted” might entail. “Ye’ll be recalling I was granted my title only a few years ago. I come from a long line of fishermen and merchants.” It was only by scrimping and saving that his father had accumulated enough money to purchase Rob’s first commission.

“I do recall that. Which is another reason you were chosen for this,” Adams said. “And I also expect you’ll recruit more men as time goes on, depending on your needs.”

Rob sighed. “And ye’ll be expecting my decision now?”

“Yes.” Adams shrugged, then gave a small smile. “Or perhaps tomorrow.”

“I’ll be allowed to inform my men of this?”

“Of course. Those who don’t wish to participate will be returned to your regiment in France. I will provide you all with as much information as I can, but you must understand that I will not be able to offer any sensitive material until you agree to enter into this life and take your oath of service.”

Rob spent the next two hours, as his men waited, questioning Adams, learning the details about what would be expected of him and what he ought to expect in return.

Finally, he nodded, satisfied. “Would ye speak to my men as you’ve spoken to me?”

“Absolutely. It is why I summoned all of you today.”

Rob rose. “I’ll bring them in, then.”

The bespectacled man awaited Rob just outside the office door. Rob was glad to learn that the men had been taken to a dining room, where they’d been served a luncheon. He couldn’t fault these Home Office people for the way they’d been treating him and his men thus far, that was for certain.

A few moments later, the six men filed in. Captains Stirling and McLeod, followed by Lieutenants Innes and Ross, then Sergeants Mackenzie and Fraser, all of them wearing their regimental coats and the Gordon tartan kilts. They made a fine-looking group, Rob thought.

Rob sat in a chair to the side and watched his men’s expressions as they listened to Adams’s speech. They all, every last one of them, were clearly intrigued.

When Adams had finished talking and answering what questions he could, Rob rose and addressed him. “My men and I have much to discuss. As promised, we will have an answer for you tomorrow.”

“Good.”

Adams shook their hands one by one. They were dismissed.

Rob sat with Stirling and McLeod on the return trip to the town house. As the carriage lurched forward, Stirling gave a low laugh. “Suppose that explains the servants and the house. They’re trying to seduce us into a life in their service.”

“Aye, ’tis true. But I think it’s true to the life we’d lead, at least here in London. Adams told me the house would be set aside for our use while we’re in Town, and they’d pay to keep it staffed and appointed.”

“And what of our headquarters in Scotland?”

Rob gave him a wry look. “He said ’twill be Castle Beauly.”

McLeod, who was sitting across from them, choked out a laugh. “Christ. Never thought I’d be seduced by a Sassenach scheme, but Castle Beauly?”

“Aye. There’s no’ a bonnier castle in the Highlands,” Rob agreed. “Adams said they chose it due to its strategic position. And that they would say it was awarded to me along with the baronetcy.”

“I’m no’ likely to be seduced by a house,” Stirling commented.

“Well, my da is the Earl of Sutton, Stirling, and I’ve seen some houses of note in my time. But Castle Beauly? It’s…” McLeod shook his head, evidently speechless.

Stirling was right—Rob wasn’t going to be seduced by a house either. However, there were many other aspects of the offer that were beginning to seduce him.

The opportunity to earn a steady living. The chance to remain actively involved in keeping the peace of the nation. Being a useful and productive member of society. Not having to participate in any more bloody battles on open fields. The ability to remain in Great Britain.

He’d never have to be too far from his wife.

What would she think of all this? Adams had said the information must remain between the seven of them, but Claire was waiting for him at the town house, and she’d want details.

He was prepared to give them to her. Because, damn it, he wanted her with him. He was sick and tired of leaving his wife again and again, of being gone from her more than he was ever together with her.

Involving her, he realized, would be setting himself up for more pain, because if she rejected this, it would mean she was rejecting him all over again.

He needed to decide whether it was worth it to take the risk.

Claire leapt up when she heard the front door open. It was four o’clock in the afternoon, and her mind had been swirling with theories of what the army could possibly want with her husband and his six Gordon Highlanders.

They were being asked to a special ball commemorating the heroes of Waterloo?

They were being sent on a secret mission to France?

They were all being promoted?

They were being commanded to form a brand-new regiment of Highlanders?

She had no idea, really. All those possibilities seemed so far-fetched.

Picking up her skirts, she hurried into the entry hall. Her husband entered first, and she clutched her skirts tighter, forcing herself not to run into his arms and demand every single detail. He came right up to her, slipped his arm over her shoulder, and squeezed before releasing her as the other men entered behind him.

“Have ye gone to visit Grace?” he asked her.

“Not yet.” She’d promised Mackenzie he could go, so she’d been waiting for their return.

“I’m afraid ye wilna be able to see her today, lass. We’ve much to discuss.”

Nodding, she said, “Of course. I’ll send a note. We can see each other at another time. But”—she glanced over at the other men—“I fear Sergeant Mackenzie might be utterly dejected.”

“Aye, dejected indeed,” the sergeant said, his expression sober. “But the major speaks truth. There’s much to discuss. Perhaps I could join ye on the morrow?”

“If I’m able to go tomorrow, you shall be my companion,” she promised him.

Rob asked Bailey to have tea brought, and they all retired to the drawing room. Claire sat on the edge of the blue silk chaise longue, and when Rob lowered himself beside her, she smiled a little. He’d chosen to sit beside her, when he could have taken any of the several surrounding seats.

While he wasn’t a man who poured out emotion in gallons, Claire was beginning to realize that he showed his feelings in tiny but significant actions.

The fact that he never overtly showed a depth of feeling had angered Claire beyond reason at one point. But after watching him at Waterloo and watching him now, the direction of her thoughts had shifted.

If he’d collapsed under the strain of all that had happened at Waterloo, how could he be the leader that his men admired and revered? How could he have performed all those heroic acts in battle that had led to his promotion to major and his baronetcy?

He couldn’t be a waterspout; he couldn’t be crushed under a flood of despair; he couldn’t be a weakling. He needed to solve problems. He needed to be a leader. He needed to be strong. That was who he was.

And it didn’t mean he didn’t care. He’d showed her in so many small ways that he cared about her since she’d arrived at Waterloo. Little touches, stolen smiles, the way he’d protectively stand at her side and demand everyone treated her with the same respect he did. She’d just been blind to all those things before.

He turned to her as the others settled into their seats. “The lads and I must decide the path of our futures tonight. I canna share in detail what we learned today, but I wanted ye here. If any of the other lads were married, I’d ask them to bring their wives along as well. This affects us all.”

“I understand.”

Rob scanned his men, then his gaze came back to focus on her. “We’ve been offered a chance to give up our commissions to work in the interests of the Crown.”

She frowned. “How?”

“By rooting out traitorous and insurgent plans and stopping them before they are enacted.”

The air whooshed out of her. “I see.”

His expression softened, and he raised his hand and passed a gentle knuckle over her cheek before turning back to the others.