Bride of the Solway (11 page)

'Thank you, colonel. Only a spoonful, if you would, for I see a dish of your beautiful strawberries at my brother's elbow and I should very much like to taste them again.'

The colonel nodded and beamed.

So did James.

Cassie forced herself to give all her attention to the conversation around the table. She would have plenty of opportunity to make her plans when she was in the drawing room, while the gentlemen sat at their port. She might be alone for quite a time.

She was just about to rise when Captain Graham said, 'I do hope you are fully recovered from this afternoon's unfortunate episode, Miss Elliott.'

He was looking straight into her eyes as he spoke. Was there something more there?

'A good night's sleep is bound to restore you, ma'am. Perhaps, Colonel, we should not sit too long over our port, this evening?'

'Quite so. Quite so. I was on the point of saying the very same thing. Besides, it would be the height of bad manners to abandon Miss Elliott when I have purposely invited her here to enjoy the house and garden. If you are not too fatigued, ma'am, we might perhaps take a stroll round the garden a little later? It seems to be a remarkably balmy evening.'

'That would be delightful, sir. I am sure the garden will be particularly beautiful in the gathering twilight. And, as it seems to mean a great deal to you, I should very much like to see its effects. I have been sadly untutored in the past.' Out of the corner of her eye, Cassie could see that James was beaming again. It was bad enough that he had concocted his wicked plans, but did he have to be quite so obvious about it?

Taking a final sip of her wine—she needed a little courage—Cassie rose in her place. The colonel moved quickly to pull back her chair. 'If you will excuse me, gentlemen, I will leave you to your port and retire to the drawing room.' She smiled round at them all.

Captain Graham moved to open the door for her. He was still looking at her in that peculiar way. What was he trying to tell her? But he said only, 'We will join you shortly, ma'am. I am very much looking forward to a stroll in the garden.'

Goodness! Now, what was the reason for that? Was he planning to cut out his host with the only female guest? Cassie felt a little fluttering in the pit of her stomach, at the thought that two gentlemen might be vying for her attention. Then her practical side reasserted itself. She must be imagining it.

James Elliott had taken his sister's empty place and was pouring himself yet another bumper of port. Any normal man would have had to be carried out after the amount Elliott had drunk, but he was clearly used to it. He was slurring his words a little, but that was all. So far.

Ross was giving half his mind to his conversation with the colonel, but part of his brain continued to puzzle over Miss Elliott, her brother, and all the extraordinary things Ross had learned about that family. Fraser, of course, had been as good as his word. Ross now knew that Cassandra Elliott was the daughter of a tyrant father and a lunatic mother.

No. That was not fair. Her mother had been confined to an asylum by her husband and had died there. But Fraser had not been able to state with certainty that the woman was actually mad. Ross knew of too many families who confined relatives in asylums for reasons other than madness. Given the powers that men had over wives and children, the Bedlam provided all too easy a prison for the difficult, the imperfect, or the simply unwanted.

Ross had set Fraser on to discover what the true reasons were. With luck, he would soon have something worthwhile to report. What he had discovered about the brother had merely confirmed Ross's own conclusions. The man was bad, through and through. He was a drinker and a gambler. He was a regular customer in all the local whorehouses. And he was said to be involved in smuggling. Considering the extent of his debts—which Fraser had also reported—Elliott seemed to be a singularly unsuccessful smuggler.

Miss Elliott, in contrast, was apparently none of these things, possibly because she had spent so many years in a fashionable Edinburgh seminary, well away from the influences of her father and brother. She was believed to be well educated and well read; and she had been in charge of running the household at
Langrigg
for several years, since just before the death of her father. According to Fraser, the gentry in Dumfries viewed Miss Elliott as something of a recluse. She was rarely seen in the town and did not make calls. Moreover, the ladies of Dumfries were not made welcome if they visited
Langrigg
House. Miss Elliott herself was a perfect hostess, but her brother was always in attendance and he made callers feel uneasy. Fraser had been able to learn of no one who had visited twice.

It was a truly strange household. Ross's curiosity was piqued. If he could persuade Miss Elliott to walk with him,
tete-a-tete
, he might be able to discover the answers to some of his many questions.

Ross's conscience smote him then. Aye, he knew well enough that it was more than idle curiosity. He must admit that he was sorry for the girl. And that he would help her if he could. Her life must be intolerable. It was only right that a gentleman should feel compassion.

That was all it was. Nothing more. Just compassion.

Cassie sat alone by the fire, stitching methodically. In, out. In, out. The colonel, the captain; the colonel, the captain. In, out; in out. She could not decide. Which of them would she dare to confide in?

The colonel was older, fatherly. He might deal with a father's care. Then again, he might react with a father's horror at what she was doing.

The captain was younger. Cassie recognised at that moment that she knew practically nothing about Captain Graham. The colonel had spoken for him—that was in his
favour
—but he might be a gambler and a drunkard, just like James. How would she ever know?

Who to trust? In, out; in, out. She might as well leave it to chance.

If the opportunity offered in conversation with either of them, she must seize it. For, by tomorrow evening, she would be back in her prison at
Langrigg
House.

Colonel Anstruther brought his teacup back himself. 'It is still a beautiful evening, Miss Elliott. Would you care for a stroll in the garden? I can send a servant for your shawl, if you wish.'

Cassie rose, smiling up at him. 'I came prepared, sir.' She indicated a fine Norwich shawl lying across the back of a chair by the fireplace. 'I was admiring the garden from my bedroom window and imagining just how it would be in the twilight. I am glad that the weather has remained so mild.'

The colonel beamed. Then he fetched Cassie's shawl and draped it carefully round her shoulders. 'If you are ready, ma'am?' he said, offering his arm. .

'May I join you, sir?'

'Why, yes, of course, Graham. And you, too, Elliott, if you wish.'

James shook his head, muttering something about his lack of interest in gardens. As the little party made its way out through the door to the garden, James slumped back into his chair, reaching for his glass. Cassie found herself wishing that the colonel's hospitality was rather less generous. By the time she returned, her brother was likely to be very drunk indeed. She resolved to escape to her bedchamber as soon as she could. If James was going to become belligerent, as he often did when in his cups, she did not want to witness it. She had too often been the butt of his crude and cruel jokes. To suffer such humiliation in front of the colonel—or Captain Graham—would be more than she could bear.

The garden paths were not wide enough for three persons to walk abreast. Colonel Anstruther led the way, with Cassie on his arm. Captain Graham followed a pace or two behind, just close enough to take part in the conversation.

Cassie tried to swallow her frustrations. She had resolved to confide in whichever of the gentleman provided the first opportunity. But with both of them at her side, there was likely to be no opportunity at all.

Ross was listening with half an ear to the colonel's description of the plants in his garden. The names meant little to him, but he had to admit that the effect was very pleasing, even though some of the shrubs and flowers were newly planted and still small.

'In a few years' time, the jasmine will have completely covered this arch,' the colonel said, indicating a climbing plant with very dark leaves and tiny white trumpet-shaped flowers.

Miss Elliott bent down to sniff at them. '
Mmm
. Such a wonderful fragrance. I would not have expected it to flower so young, sir. It must be because of the sheltered aspect of this garden, do you think?'

'Possibly. It seems to be growing away strongly. My wife tells me that, in its native habitat, it is something of a weed, romping through everything.'

'Where is its native habitat, sir?' Ross was trying to sound more interested than he really was. He had rarely given a thought to plants and gardens before.

The colonel grimaced, and then grinned a little sheepishly. 'I'm afraid, Graham, that I don't know the answer to that. I have a vague idea it might be Madeira, but... No, I think I am confusing this plant with another one. Something my wife mentioned. Perhaps Miss Elliott knows for sure?'

The lady shook her head. Tin afraid I'm not certain, sir. I think
Mrs
Anstruther did speak of a jasmine from Madeira, a very highly scented one, that she hoped one day to possess. But it is a plant for the conservatory only, I think. I must confess I have forgotten the name.'

'I shall consult my wife. If it's from Madeira, she shall have it, when my expedition returns.'

'You have sent out a plant-hunting expedition, sir? Why that is most wonderful. To see all those amazing plants in their native abundance... Oh, what a delight that must be.'

'Forgive me, Miss Elliott. I did not mean to mislead you. I do intend to send out an expedition, but it has not yet left these shores. It had been my intention to lead it myself, but that is no longer possible, because...' He cleared his throat. 'I am now looking for someone trustworthy to take my place as leader. Once I have found him, I will be able to make the final arrangements.'

'An expedition leader would have to be a remarkable man, I would imagine,' Miss Elliott said thoughtfully. 'For he must combine so many qualities—a profound knowledge of plants, of course, and the ability to lead a band of men in often difficult and dangerous circumstances. I assume it would also help if he had some knowledge of seafaring as well. Do you think you will find this paragon you are seeking, sir?'

'I do not believe it is essential for the leader to be knowledgeable in seamanship or in horticulture, ma'am, provided there are sufficient among the expedition members who do have that knowledge. I was planning to lead it myself, after all, and I am far from skilled in such matters. As my ignorance demonstrated just a moment ago.'

Miss Elliott smiled. It was a smile full of understanding. 'You are too hard on yourself, I think, sir. But I do understand your reasoning. The leader would need to be awake on all suits and to be ready to deal with any emergency. He would be unlikely to be doing that if his eyes were fixed on the ground, searching for rare specimens. Better that he keep his eyes on the horizon, perhaps, watching for pirates?'

'Would the necessary qualities not depend, sir, on the precise destination of the expedition?' Ross asked, trying to ignore the mischief in Miss Elliott's voice.

'Yes, of course. An expedition to Madeira alone would present no real dangers. Why, I have heard that invalids go there, nowadays, to take advantage of the climate. I believe it is very mild. And very good for the health.' He stopped abruptly. 'I wonder whether... But no. She would never stand the journey.' His voice had sunk to a whisper. He was talking to himself, rather than to his companions.

Ross felt a pang of sympathy for the man. As usual, he was thinking about his poor wife and looking for something—anything—to ease her suffering But surely she would be unable to stand a voyage lasting for weeks? And what if the ship met bad weather?

'What is the destination of your proposed expedition, Colonel?' 'I had hoped to fund a ship for southern Africa, ma'am. That was why I mentioned Madeira. The ship would call there on its outward and return journeys- I intended to collect some plants from there on the way home.'

'Oh I do envy you, sir. I should so love to go on such an expedition. But it would be impossible, I suppose?'