Rumors Among the Heather (14 page)

Julie cried out softly
in pleasure, arching her body still further toward him. She
whispered huskily, “Matthew…I want you…I love you…take me now!”

Matthew’s muscles
quivered from the strain as he braced himself over her. He’d
dreamed of taking her and making her his own, but somehow the dream
paled in comparison.

“Matthew!”

He quickly followed
her into a passion-filled void. Afterwards they lay together,
tangled in the blankets of her bed. The passion they’d shared faded
into contentment. Their warm bodies were entwined, welded together
by the heat of their passion. Matthew had never felt so at peace
with himself and his world. Moonlight caressed his bride’s face,
and he saw the silver streaks of her tears. “Are you happy,
Julie?”

“Yes, Matthew.”

“Then why are you
crying, my dearest love?”

“They’re tears of
happiness. I’ve never been happier.” Once again, they came together
as husband and wife, but with the wild abandon of new love. Gently,
Matthew entered Julie again, and together they spiraled into a
world of sensations and fathomless depths of pleasure. With their
desires sated, they lay entangled, stunned by passion, and weak
from love. Together they watched the dark night turn gray.

Reluctantly, Matthew
sat on the side of the bed. He began to put his clothing back on.
With an effort of will, he looked at Julie. He groaned, passion
stirring within his loins again. He could not get enough of her.
His appetite was insatiable.

Julie put on her
wrapper and came with him to the secret panel. “Matthew, why did
your grandfather have a secret passage to the governess’s room? Was
this always her room?”

“It seems he had a
weakness for governesses. It must run in the family,” he said with
a wink. One last look and he hurried away.

Julie watched him go.
She felt the hot rush of tears stinging her eyes. Alone and cold,
she moved closer to the dying embers of the fire.

Each night they
followed the same pattern, coming together with the same ardor and
wild abandonment. They could not seem to get enough of each other.
In a dangerous mixture of love, lust, and tenderness, they quenched
each other’s fever. All the fears and uncertainties Julie felt
while they were apart were washed away with the flood of their
passion, only to return once dawn frightened the night from the
horizon.

One day, Julie and
Ribble were summoned to Matthew’s study.

“I have been summoned
to Prince Charles’s side. I’m sorry, Julie. Our time has been too
short.” He reached out to take her hand in his. He looked from
Julie to Ribble and said, “Ribble, I can’t take you with me this
time.”

“My lord, I have
always been there in every campaign. Have I not served you well?”
Ribble asked. Disappointment was written across his face.

“There is no one I
trust more than you, my friend. This time, however, I need you here
to look after my family. Nothing must happen to them. I trust you
to do what is best for their safety.”

Ribble nodded his head
in understanding.

“Matthew, how will I
know if you are all right?” Julie asked.

“Isaac Potter floats
like a ghost between France and Scotland. I will send word through
him. The rendezvous point will be at the abandoned Grant farm south
of Gairloch. Ribble can check when he goes into the village. Potter
will leave messages in a loose brick inside the old smokehouse
chimney. Julie, please don’t look so worried. I leave tonight, but
I’ll be back as soon as I can,” Matthew said as he pressed her hand
to his lips.

Too soon he was
gone.

* * *

Julie went about
tutoring Ian in a daze. She kept listening for news of the war. She
watched for a sign from Ribble, but he only shook his head. Several
days later, while Ian was having a riding lesson, she went for a
walk along the beach and met Ribble there.

“I was coming to see
you.” He motioned for her to come down to where he repaired the
sails for the small boats.

“You have news?” Julie
asked, wringing her hands.

“Aye. The war goes
well. King George sent Sir John Cope, hoping to rout Prince
Charles. His lordship fought beside the prince at Edinburgh, and
with this victory, they were ready to meet Sir John Cope at
Prestonpans. It was in the gray of the early morning four days
later that Lord George Murray attacked and surprised Sir John and
his army. Within minutes they left the king’s army defeated and
made a hasty retreat, along with their leaders. Prince Charles lost
a few men, but the defeat cost the king’s army in pride and
men.”

“I heard when the
battle was over, and the first drink of victory was on his breath,
a chieftain said proudly, ‘My prince, your enemies have fled and
their dead are at your feet.’ “Sadly, the prince said, ‘Alas, they
are my father’s subjects and good Englishmen.’” Ribble recited the
news from the message he found at Grant’s farm. “I think he will
make a fine king.”

“What of Lord
Bonnleigh? Is he unharmed?” Julie watched Ribble’s face as he spoke
to her.

“Aye, he was in the
first battle at Edinburgh. He came through unscathed. He’s a good
one in a scrape. Ye have nae cause to worry.”

“Where will they go
now?”

“Once the battle was
over at Prestonpans, they returned to Holyrood. We’ve started out
without much backing. France did not come through on their promise.
With this victory under our belts, my guess would be that Prince
Charles will spend a few days enlisting more men and gathering more
money for the battles to come. The fund raising will grow easier
with each triumph. With a decisive victory like this one and the
king’s army on the run, his popularity couldn’t help but continue
to grow.”

“I’m so worried,
Ribble.”

“I know, Lady…er…Miss
Hastings, but you must pray he’ll be returned safely. I mean no
disrespect, but you do understand why I cannae use your title. We
must be forever on our guard. Tell no one, trust no one.”

“I understand the need
for secrecy. Please don’t worry about niceties.”

The next news they had
was all good. The prince hosted grand balls and parties where he
danced with many Highland ladies. He won their hearts and prayers.
They sold their jewels for him, and every able-bodied man laid down
his sword at the prince’s feet.

Reflecting back on
what had happened, Julie heard a tapping at her door. When she
opened the door, she found Ribble standing there. Julie put a
trembling hand to her mouth.

“Nay, ’tis not
bad.”

Ribble’s words soothed
the unrest in Julie’s heart.

“The last I heard,
Prince Charles decided to march into England. The chieftains are
balking at leaving their homeland. They wanted to fight for
Scotland and Scotland alone, but Prince Charles’s dream is to
conquer England for his father. The chieftains finally gave way,
and they marched into England with little resistance. However, the
English Jacobites dinnae even come out to meet the prince. He has
been forced by the chieftains to return to Scotland.

“News from the front
said they did not press their advantage, and they have returned to
Glasgow. The prince felt let down. Who can blame him? His dream is
all but dead now. I did hear they have taken Stirling Castle, and
the war effort has been revived. Once again the men are rallying
around him. That’s all I know for now.”

“What of Lord
Bonnleigh?” Julie asked. She could see the rebellion was coming to
a head, and things did not look good for Scotland or the
prince.

“That’s my second
piece of news. His lordship will be here tomorrow night, and you
can see for yourself.”

* * *

The next night Julie
woke to a hand over her mouth. She opened her eyes wide to see
Matthew, and after a tender kiss to her forehead, he took his hand
away.

“Oh, Matthew, I’ve
been so worried.”

“I know, but as you
can see, I’m still in one piece,” he said with a smile.

Before he could say
another word, Julie was in his arms, kissing him. No other words
were spoken. The war was forgotten. The outside world could not
touch the need they had for each other. They came together each
night and made the most of the short time they had together.

* * *

Three days later
Matthew prepared to leave. He’d requested his beautiful bride to
come to his study. He did not want to leave her, but his obligation
to Scotland had to be served. He only wished—

The door pushed open
and Julie rushed into his arms. “Matthew, I don’t want you to
leave. I’m so worried. If something happened to you, I don’t know
what I would do. These few days we’ve had have been wonderful. I
just wish you could stay.” Tears dotted her lashes.

“Julie, please don’t
cry. You know I have to go. I have pledged my support. It tears at
my heart to leave you. These few days have been the best days of my
life. Don’t worry, I promise I’ll come back to you, and when I do
we will never be parted,” Matthew said and kissed her trembling
lips.

“How is the war going,
really? Ribble gets the messages, but they are always late and
second hand. Does the prince have a chance?”

“I’m afraid not. I
counseled him to go forward into England while the royal army was
in disarray, but he would not listen. I’m afraid all is lost, but I
can’t turn back now. My fear is that we have given the king’s army
time to regroup. They know what they are up against now. They will
throw their best at us, and I fear that will be the Duke of
Cumberland. All will be coming to a head soon,” Matthew said
dispiritedly.

One last kiss and
Matthew left by dark of night with Ribble. Ribble delivered him to
the mainland. Matthew made his way through town to the Grant farm
where he’d left his horse stabled. He saddled up and rode through
the night to meet up with the prince and the rag-tag band of
rebels.

* * *

Julie could not sleep
for worrying. Days went by without any word. Her nerves were on
edge. She jumped at the slightest sound. She went about her daily
duties but could not keep her mind on her work. When she left the
classroom, she paced the floor of her chamber or fell to her knees
in prayer. One afternoon as she finished praying, she heard a
knock. She opened the door to find Ribble.

“Ribble, what’s wrong?
Is it Matthew? Tell me.”

“I don’t know about
his lordship. What I do know is that all is lost. On the sixteenth
of April, Prince Charles met the Duke of Cumberland at Culloden.
Culloden was no place to pick for a battle. It’s too marshy. I
heard his lordship tried to persuade the prince to choose another,
but he wouldn’t. By this time, our Highlanders were in disarray.
The Duke of Perth didn’t understand Murray’s orders, and I’m
ashamed to say the MacDonalds held on to an insult and ignored him.
They always charged from the right, and they were placed on the
left. From what I hear Lord Bonnleigh tried to persuade them to
advance, but they refused.

“Cumberland kept his
troops where they were and continued to bombard us. Finally the
prince gave the order to advance—too late. It is the end of
everything. Cumberland made the battlefield a massacre, and the
prince is in hiding.

“I’ve not heard what
happened to his lordship. It’s early days yet, so don’t lose hope.
I’m going back to Grant’s farm to see if there is any more news,”
Ribble said and left quietly.

Julie continued on at
the castle as before, but with a tension she could not assuage.
Each day she watched for Ribble, afraid he would tell her Matthew
was wounded—or worse.

Her marriage, in fact
her entire life was not what she’d hoped for. It had been three
months since her last monthly course. Every morning upon rising she
became ill. She carried Matthew’s child. A blessing…but also a
curse. With their marriage a secret, if her condition became known
she would be considered a fallen woman. So she tried to hide her
pregnancy from the staff by having her breakfast in her room. Of
course the food would not stay down, but she found various ways to
dispose of it without anyone finding out.

She lost so much
weight from her morning sickness that her predicament did not show.
Luckily, there was not a hint of gossip in the servants’ quarters.
No one took time for anything but the news of the doomed rebellion.
No matter how she felt, she kept to her daily routine.

The winter’s chill in
the air did not keep Julie away from the garden whenever Ian had
his riding lesson. This afternoon, she found a sheltered area away
from the wind. The sun shone brightly and warmed her little nook.
Exhausted from her pregnancy and sleepless nights, she closed her
eyes. Almost asleep, at first she thought she imagined the voices,
but upon looking between the foliage keeping her from view, she
recognized the gardener and a helper from the village.

“Hoots, toots, ye
should’ve lived back in them days. The MacDonalds were a wild bunch
and still are, especially Lord Bonnleigh. At the time, rumors flew
that he was ta marry Master Ian’s mum before she run off with his
brother Michael, ye ken,” the gardener said with a chuckle.

“It’s a wonder there
wasn’t blood spilled over that. Many a brother has been killed for
less,” chimed in his assistant.

“Aye, there would’ve
been, had it nae been for the old man. They say wickedness skips a
generation sometimes. He was as straight as a preacher. He packed
Bonnleigh off to France. However, he never forgave his son. He kept
up a good front. He dinnae let any outsiders know it. They bluffed
it out. Pretended Michael was supposed to marry the lady all along.
Pretty soon people forgot, but I guess Lord Bonnleigh never did. He
never came back for longer than a day or two until his brother
died.”

“I heard Lord
Bonnleigh was a wild one. Rumors always have some truth in them,
eh?” the assistant said with a laugh.