Sweet Temptation (21 page)

“I just said I thought you’d—”

“You’re free to think what you wish,” Sara interrupted, “but not to shout it at me, especially in the street, and
most
especially you are not to call me names.”

“I didn’t call you names.”

“Am I to believe that
doxy
is a term you would have used for your mother?”

“If I dinna know ye were an only child, Gavin, I’d swear ye were fighting with yer sister,” said Lord George coming up behind him. “Ye sound like two puppies squabbling over a bone.”

“I should have known I’d find you here,” said Gavin, shaking his head at a man who’d been his neighbor his whole life.

“Aye, ye should. Me family has always been loyal tae the Stuarts.”

“What’s your rank this time?”

“Lord George is Lieutenant-General in command of the whole army,” said Sara.

“And the reason for our success so far,” added Ian.

“That honor must be shared with the Prince,” said Lord George diplomatically. “I would never have dared so much without his inspiration.”

“You’re all out of your minds,” declared Gavin. “Do you seriously think those fat English merchants are going to hand the country over to a Catholic Stuart, after already fighting two wars to prevent it? You’re living a fantasy.”

“They havena stopped us yet,” Lord George pointed out.

“They will soon. Hell, Cumberland can throw fifty thousand troops at you. How many men do you have? Five thousand?”

“We have enough.”

“Where will they come from? The English won’t rise for you, you’ve seen that already, and neither will lowland Scotland, even if they agreed with you. And when Cumberland does defeat you, he’ll make you pay with your blood. I know him well, and he’s not a pleasant fellow.”

“I forgot, he’s a horse breeder, isn’t he?”

“And a damned good one, but that won’t make any difference.”

“The young lord doesn’t seem to think much of our cause,” said the Prince, coming up to claim Sara’s company during dinner. “Why don’t you give him a full account of our successes so far, Fraser. Then perhaps he will regard us with more respect.” He turned from Gavin to Sara. “I hope you will honor me with your company, milady.”

“I forbid her to parade about Glasgow on your arm,” snapped Gavin.

Sara had wavered, wanting a chance to talk to Gavin alone, but his words made up her mind. “I’ll be honored, your Majesty, unless you would prefer one of the local beauties. They’ve come just to see you.”

“They come at their own convenience,” answered the Prince sharply. “You are faithful at all times.”

“I forbid it, I tell you,” Gavin repeated, starting forward. The Prince stepped between him and Sara.

“I think it’s time Lord Carlisle returned to his rooms,” he said, before calmly escorting Sara to her place at the table.

“Ye never learn, do ye?” demanded Ian in disgust. “A wee bit more, and ye may
really
be a prisoner.”

“You’re only holding me because of Sara.”

“Then take care no’ to give the Prince reason tae hold ye on yer own. If ye don’t treat yer wife with more respect, she may consider it good riddance tae bad rubbish. She will no’ be taken for granted.”

“You sound like you’re in love with her.”

“Then listen well, for ‘tis how
you
should sound.”

Chapter 14

Sara stood next to the Prince as he greeted his guests, but she had already forgotten the names of the more than two dozen people she’d been introduced to in the last half hour. She kept looking for Gavin, but he was nowhere in sight, and her interest in the ball had faded to almost nothing.

She had refused to communicate with Gavin for two days, and she wasn’t sure but what she had been the one to suffer the most. She had returned his messages unopened and refused his requests to see her, but he had occupied her thoughts to the exclusion of all else. After the exhaustion of the march, she had been looking forward to a period of rest when they reached Glasgow, but oddly enough she didn’t feel tired. Quite the reverse; she was brimming with energy, and time hung heavily on her hands.

She was keyed up, knowing that Gavin was just a few streets away, and all she had to do was ask and he would be brought to her. The feeling of power was wonderful, and it was all she could do not to use it, but she forced herself to wait. She wanted Gavin to come to her on his own, not be dragged from his room by a pair of burly Highlanders.

She hated to admit it, but his rude welcome hadn’t made a bit of difference in her feelings for him; she loved him just as much as ever. But why should that surprise her? She had adored him when he was a boy, and he had been unkind to her even then. She was still angry with him, but one apologetic word would have sent her tumbling into his arms, begging for his forgiveness. But he hadn’t spoken that word, and she refused to tumble before she was asked. She might be his wife, but she wasn’t his slave, and he would have to learn that if he wanted his freedom.

“Do ye think ye could spare Lady Carlisle for a few moments?” Ian Fraser asked, coming up to the Prince. “I have someone who urgently begs the favor o’ her company.” Ian winked at the Prince, but Sara didn’t need that wink to know that Ian was talking about Gavin, and her heart beat a little faster.

“Lady Carlisle is free to do as she pleases,” the Prince replied graciously.

“Did Gavin really ask for the
favor
of my company?” Sara asked, as Ian guided her through the crowd.

“I canna recall if those were his exact words,” he admitted with a beguiling smile, “but ‘tis what he meant.”

“I didn’t think he had,” replied Sara with a sigh of resignation. “And please don’t tell me what he
die
say. I don’t want to feel like flinging him under a runaway coach before I even speak to him.” Sara didn’t feel any more hopeful when she at last saw Gavin. That he was making an attempt to keep his temper in check was obvious. That the task was proving a great strain on his self-control was just as obvious.

“I brought her as ye requested,” said Ian, without his usual smile, and immediately left them alone.

“I’m glad you could spare a few moments,” Gavin said greeting Sara quite formally.

That wasn’t a very good sign, but she hoped he would become more friendly now that Ian was out of sight.

“I didn’t mind being excused from the reception line. Those people are the Prince’s friends, not mine.”

“Then you shouldn’t be here,” Gavin said with suppressed wrath, unable to keep his tongue between his teeth.

“We’ve already touched on that subject,” Sara said rather impatiently.

Gavin struggled visibly to restrain himself from uttering the blistering words that rose to his lips. “Why do you refuse to let me explain why I think you ought to go back to London?”

“As I recall, all you have done is shout orders at me. That virtually eliminates the possibility of any kind of explanation.”

“You haven’t given me much of a chance. I haven’t been allowed to so much as set eyes on you for two days.”

“You had more of a chance than I had on our wedding night.” Involuntarily Sara turned crimson at the memory of that evening. She hadn’t meant to mention it, but it just came out, along with the pent-up anger she had been saving for nearly a month. “You knew I was scared. And you were drunk.”

“My friends toasted us,” Gavin replied self-consciously. “I couldn’t refuse to drink with them.” Nor did you try, he reminded himself.

“You knew I was inexperienced,” Sara continued, ignoring his excuse. “I told you so. Yet you treated me with great roughness.”

“Every woman should know more than you did.”

“Maybe the women you’re accustomed to consorting with do,” snapped Sara, “but I don’t keep such company.”

“Are you blaming me for your ignorance?” Sara was making him feel more guilty than he already did, and that made him angry.

“Not for my ignorance, but certainly for treating that ignorance as something for which I should be humiliated and punished.”

“I told you what I was going to do.”

“As you were doing it!
Maybe you’ve forgotten your first time—possibly it is too far in the past—but to have your modesty stripped away and your privacy invaded in the space of ten minutes is a staggering experience.”

Gavin did remember his own first time, and had the honesty to admit that Sara’s words contained some truth.

“Then, to be attacked like I was an enemy, someone you didn’t like in the least, made it all the worse.”

“I didn’t attack you,” protested Gavin, his ire flaring instantly.

“Time doesn’t seem to have calmed the rough waters that lie between you.” The two combatants hadn’t heard the Prince come up. “It’s probably best that I’ve come to beg Lady Carlisle to help me begin the dancing.” Sara looked a little embarrassed, but Gavin’s face reflected only anger and vexation.

“You’ve done nothing but interfere between my wife and me since she reached Glasgow,” he growled.

“Since it was my protection which enabled her to reach Glasgow in safety and some degree of dignity, I see it merely as a continuation of my role.”

“She doesn’t need your protection any longer. I’m here.”

“I would say that she seems to need it more than ever. Would you favor me with the first dance, Lady Carlisle? You may continue your discussion with your husband if you wish, but I must ask you to see that it does not turn into a brawl.”

“I would be honored. If you will excuse us?” she said, turning to Gavin.

“Do I have any choice?” he asked very ungallantly.

“No, I don’t think you do,” said the Prince with a pleasant smile, as he led Sara toward the head of the set that was forming.

“I hope ye do no’ aspire tae become a diplomat,” Ian observed caustically, as he stepped from behind a statue. “Ye are certain tae plunge the whole world into war inside a month.”

“Oh, go to Hell!” exploded Gavin and stormed out of the hall.

It was two hours before Gavin was able to see Sara again, and then it was only for a country dance.

Even though Sara had received instruction from the best dance masters in London, she was only a moderate dancer, and since this was her first ball, she felt tense and unsure of herself. Gavin, on the other hand, was a natural athlete, and danced as though he were born to it. The movements of the dance kept them apart too often to permit rational conversation, but as soon as the last notes sounded, Gavin led her to a chair in an alcove, brought her some wine punch, and, directing a murderous glare at everyone who passed, dared anyone to join them.

“You never did tell me how you came to be in the west of England,” he said, as politely as he could.

“You never stopped arguing long enough to ask me.” Gavin’s brow darkened. “Forgive me, I shouldn’t have said that,” Sara said, realizing it was pointless for them to continue finding fault with one another. If they were ever to begin a rapprochement, both of them would have to forget their wrongs.

“When your father said he was going to close the house, I had no choice but to follow you or go back to Miss Adelaide. I chose Scotland.”

“But where did my father go?”

“You mean you haven’t seen him?”

“No. Why should I?”

“He said he was going to join Cumberland, when he came north to put down the rebellion.”

“Something’s wrong,” Gavin said puzzled. “He’s not at Estameer, and I doubt he’s at Lochknole. The old bastard is up to something. He
never
makes a move without a purpose, and he never has any purpose except making money. Why didn’t you hire a post chaise?” he asked abruptly, his thoughts returning to Sara.

“I don’t have any money. All the income goes to your father.”

“But he couldn’t have left without giving you a considerable sum to live on.”

“He offered to let me stay in the house with the caretaker.”

“I know my father thinks of little else besides the making of money, but I’ve never known him to be so mean about its spending.”

“He offered to give me an allowance of one hundred pounds a quarter starting with the new year, but I couldn’t wait a month.”

“Does he know where you are?”

“No.”

Once more the Prince interrupted them. “Lady Carlisle, I have someone I most particularly want you to meet. She’s a friend from my childhood in Rome.” A tall, thin young woman stood at the Prince’s side. Roughly the same age as the prince, she was attractive without being beautiful, with dark, hypnotic eyes. The Prince looked at her with obvious fondness, and the young lady smiled shyly.

“This is Clementina Walkinshaw,” the Prince said. “She and I played together fifteen years ago.”

“Twenty to be precise,” said the young woman in a soft, deep voice. Clementina Walkinshaw was one of the Walkinshaws of Barrowfield, a family of strong Jacobite tradition, and it was obvious from the look in Clementina’s eyes that she carried on the family tradition.

“You’ll have to allow me to introduce you to some of the ladies of Glasgow,” Clementina said to Sara. “It’s not good for anyone to be exclusively in male company for very long.”