Amanda Scott (19 page)

“You are entitled to think what you like of me,” he said, “but before I finish with you, I intend to make you understand just how badly your actions have endangered Lydia.”

“Since you know now why I was determined to go last night, you must also realize I had no choice but to take her with me.”

He did understand, particularly now that he realized she held blackmail in contempt, for Lydia was not nearly so nice in her notions. Nonetheless he said grimly, “The only fact that matters now is that you did go, both of you. Though it is true that neither your attendance nor Lydia’s is presently known to the authorities, if it should become known, I cannot be certain of protecting either of you. I do have influence—and I will thank you to remember that before you fling my power in my teeth again—but as I said earlier, I also have enemies who would delight in seeing anyone under my protection prosecuted to the full extent of the law, which includes, in case you were not aware of it, seeing them hanged for treason. I do not say it would go that far,” he added quickly, seeing her dismay, “only that there are people who would try. As to those with whom I still do exert some influence, I might as well tell you that, having concealed not only your identity and connections from them but also my suspicions last night as to where the masquerade was being held, any request of mine for favorable treatment will undoubtedly fall on deaf, even hostile, ears.”

“But how would they know?” she asked, her manner much more subdued now.

“They would know,” he said, grimacing at the memory of his impudent gesture in borrowing Ryder’s own gear to disguise himself for the masquerade. At the time he had thought it amusing. Now he wondered at his own stupidity.

She was watching him. “Will you really send Lydia away?

“I must. She will leave for Derbyshire in the morning, just as soon as she and her mother can gather what they need for the journey. I’d send them at once if I thought I could induce my stepmother to travel on a Sunday, for Lydia cannot be trusted to keep a still tongue in her head. Even though I daresay I shall be able to prevent her from being hanged, or even arrested, I won’t succeed in protecting her from a great deal of embarrassment if it becomes known that she was at that damned ball.”

“But we were masked!”

“Can you assure me that no one there recognized Lydia? What about young Deverill? Are you sure you can trust that rattle not to tell someone? I certainly have no such faith in him.”

Suddenly, to his horror, her eyes filled, and the tears spilled over and streamed down her cheeks.

“Good God, don’t cry!” Dismayed, and without giving the possible consequences a single thought, he caught her shoulders again and pulled her close, putting his arms around her and letting her weep against his chest.

T
ELLING HERSELF THAT HER
tears were no more than a natural result of the emotional upheavals of the past half hour, Maggie allowed herself the unfamiliar luxury of being held and comforted for several minutes before she clapped a firm control over her emotions and attempted to free herself from Rothwell’s embrace. His arms tightened briefly, as if he were reluctant to let her go, but then he released her. Pulling her handkerchief from her sleeve, she blew her nose and tried to collect her thoughts, noting that his lordship still looked shaken and most concerned.

Having spent a good portion of the previous night reviewing alternatives, she had already concluded that in Rothwell himself lay her sole remaining hope for improving the situation in Glen Drumin. The problem, as she knew from the dealings she had had with him, was how to convince him of that fact. Seeing the way he looked at her now, remembering other warm looks she had encountered, and being well aware of the way the new blue silk gown clung to her admittedly shapely person, she wondered if she might exploit his feelings to her own, and Glen Drumin’s, advantage. But although such weapons were among the very few effective ones in a female’s limited arsenal, and though her tears had clearly moved him, she felt an unfamiliar aversion to manipulating Rothwell, even if it really could be done.

Still with that look of compassion, he said quietly, “I am sorry to have distressed you so, but truly there is nothing else to be done to insure Lydia’s safety. In the event that you fear she will blame you, let me assure you that she will not. She will believe, as I do now, that you had no real understanding of the danger into which you led her.”

It was tempting, for she realized as she met his gaze that in acquitting her of acting out of spite he had also managed to acquit her of all ill intent. She wanted him to think well of her, and knew he would think better of a female who innocently admitted that knowing no better, she had tripped blindly into danger at the urging of others, than he would of one who had been willing to use any means she had at her disposal to get her own way. But although she would lie in an instant to protect her cause, or even to protect another, truly innocent person, she was loath to lie to him on her own behalf, or even to use feminine wiles, and that was what he was opening the door for her to do.

Unexpectedly her tears began to flow again, trickling down her cheeks and the back of her throat, but the thought that he could so easily affect her merely by being kind strengthened her resolve. Gathering herself, holding back her tears by the simple expedient of avoiding that compassionate gaze, she said gruffly, “You were right to be angry with me, sir, and you are wrong now to think I did not recognize Lydia’s danger. I should have to be a fool not to have known she had no business to be there. Even had I not known who would attend Lady Primrose’s masquerade, I certainly knew you would not approve of your sister’s keeping company with Jacobites, and in that alone I must have endangered her. Though it is true that I did not know how to keep her from accompanying me once she had made up her mind to do so, I realize now that in the face of such difficulty I ought to have given up my plan altogether. I apologize to you, and I shall apologize to her as well, for although you say she will understand, I know she will be furious with us both if you truly force her to leave town. Lady Rothwell will be quite furious, too.”

He took a step toward her, but she quickly held up a hand, saying, “Please, let me finish before my resolution fails. I know you mean only to make this easier for me, though I cannot imagine why you should, but you are making it harder instead, and I daresay you will not feel so sympathetic when I tell you that I would do it again, in an instant.” She dared a glance at him, and felt a frisson of fear when she saw how his lips tightened and his eyes narrowed. No longer could she believe she still had his sympathy, but she felt better, having made her confession. She wanted very much to persuade him to do as she wished; she did not want to feel as if she had tricked him into doing it.

Grimly, he said, “Neither your feelings nor Lydia’s can be considered. She must go to Derbyshire for her own protection. As to my stepmother’s feelings in the matter, they need not concern you. She will do as I bid her. As to yourself, the sooner you leave London, the safer you too will be. In any event, you cannot stay here once my stepmother leaves.

“I have done what I can this past week to discover what exactly happened to your coach and servants, and though I am certain your people were killed and their bodies disposed of by their killers, since you cannot identify anyone, the matter will have to be laid to rest. It will no doubt be best, therefore, if you accompany Lydia and her mother into Derbyshire, from whence your transportation back to Scotland can be easily arranged.”

“Will you take me home yourself, sir?” There, it was out. So much for seduction and trickery. She held her breath.

“I will certainly accompany you all to Derbyshire,” he said. “Not only will my stepmother demand as much of me, but I should feel uneasy sending you all off alone. From Derbyshire, I will arrange a proper escort for you to Scotland.”

“That will not do, I’m afraid.”

He stared at her. “I beg your pardon?”

“I am sorry to vex you further, but if you simply pack me back to the Highlands, my friends and family—your tenants—will continue to suffer. It was primarily with the hope of relieving that suffering that I came to London. My true cause must not be abandoned, sir. Right must never be abandoned, but I now believe the best man to help us is you. The land is yours, the people your tenants; therefore, the responsibility lies with you.”

“I am not going to assist your barbaric Highlanders to rise against their lawful king,” he said.

“Nor do I ask such a thing,” she said, keeping her temper easily since he had not refused outright to go. “I merely point out that people on your land are starving, that many are abused by your factors and by a local bailie, who, despite his Highland heritage, is paid by the English to side against his own.”

“He is there to uphold the law.”

“English law! Do you know what has been done, sir? Do you know that my father’s people are forced to make payments to you they can neither afford nor earn, arbitrary payments of rent to a landlord to whom they feel no allegiance, who cannot be bothered to see for himself if the land will support them! That in itself is a rape of the Highlands. As to certain other things that are done in your name, sir, if they are legal in England, they certainly never were or will be in Scotland.”

“You exaggerate. I would never condone such things.”

“How would you know? Do you know that your factors and your bailie have been known to beat men who cannot pay the rents they order them to pay? Do your men tell you when they accost young females to demand sexual favors? Or is that the way you desire business to be done on your estates? Perhaps I am merely naive as to how you manage things in Derbyshire!”

“Again you exaggerate the case, my girl, and it will do you no good,” he replied calmly. “I not only receive quarterly reports from my Scottish agents, which thus far have contained no mention of difficulty, but I am told there has been no need even to approach most of my tenants, since your father regularly pays what is owed by all. If the land will not support such payments, then how do they continue to be made, if you please?”

Feeling warmth in her cheeks, and knowing it derived from the knowledge that she had stepped dangerously close to a topic she had no wish to discuss, Maggie hoped he would credit her increased color to her temper and said quickly, “If my father pays, it is to spare our people more rough treatment. Surely you are not so foolish as to assume that your agents, when you are not at hand to direct them, behave with all propriety. If you do, sir, then you are even more innocent in the ways of the world than I am.” She was not surprised to see anger leap to his countenance again, but still he held himself under what she had come to think of as unnaturally rigid control.

“You overstep, yet again, the bounds of what I will tolerate,” he said flatly. “I am not going to Scotland, certainly not at this time of year. No,” he added when she began to protest, “do not argue with me. In fact, you may go now. I will speak to Lydia myself, so pray do not say anything about this to her. You can better spend your time preparing for your own departure.” With that, he moved to open the library door.

Sounds of arrival in the hall stopped the next words on Maggie’s tongue, for she saw that Lydia and Sir Dudley had returned from their stroll. Exchanging a speaking look with Lydia, she heard Sir Dudley say, “Ah, Ned, before I leave, there is a small matter I should like to discuss with you—privately, old fellow, if you have a minute to spare me just now.”

“Certainly,” Rothwell said, adding, “Lydia, you may wait here in the hall until Sir Dudley leaves. Miss MacDrumin, you will oblige me by going upstairs at once.”

Having no difficulty interpreting the stern command to mean that he did not want her to speak to Lydia at all before he did himself, and perfectly willing to let the first flood of that damsel’s fury wash over his head, Maggie obeyed him, not even tempted to tiptoe back when she saw the library door close behind him and heard Lydia hiss at her to “come back and talk to me!”

In the library, Rothwell watched his friend with no small misgiving, for it was clear he was searching for words to express himself, and that was no natural state for the attorney general. At last Ryder said, hesitantly, “I dislike bringing such a matter to your attention, and … and naturally I am quite well aware that I may have misunderstood, but in all fairness …”

“Fiend seize you, Ryder, cut line.”

“In point of fact, dear fellow, something that minx Lydia said—though, to be sure, she covered the slip quickly and most adroitly! If I were not experienced in such matters, I might not have noticed at—”

“Ryder.” Rothwell’s tone was ominous.

“That damned masquerade last night,” Ryder said quickly. “I don’t say she was there, but I recall what you said once about the child’s fancying herself something of a Jacobite, and—”

“Lydia’s a damned fool,” Rothwell said, not mincing words. “Look here, Ryder, I’m not going to say she was there—I am
not a
fool—but I do have a confession to make and you won’t like it.”

“Perhaps I had better sit down.” He suited action to words.

Rothwell said, “When you go home, your man is going to tell you that I visited your flat last night and demanded a loo mask and domino, which he provided me.” He was watching the play of emotions on Ryder’s face and added with a sigh, “You see, though I said nothing to you, I was able to guess where the masquerade was being held.”

Ryder’s lips tightened as if he were attempting to restrain himself, and his voice was carefully controlled when he said, “In view of Lydia’s slip today, I think I understand your decision, but you will owe me for this, Ned. You are treading on thin ice in more respects than one, for if I am not mistaken, there is something more you should have told me. I once observed that the name MacDrumin is an unusual one, yet your guest was introduced to me today without a single reference to her antecedents.”

Rothwell sighed and said, “If you are going to accuse the young woman of being a Jacobite, let me remind you that there has never been a word of evidence against her father.”