Sweet Temptation (20 page)

The Prince had not actually heard their exchange, but he had seen enough to know that Gavin was no stranger to Sara or Ian Fraser. He glanced inquiringly at Ian who, after an initial moment of startled surprise, was clearly trying to conceal his amusement. When Ian winked at him, he was sure the man was not unknown to Sara.

“It’s not my custom to imprison my subjects, even those who are so misguided as to support the Hanoverian usurper.” Sara bowed her head in acceptance. “But since he has had the temerity to accost you in public, I would not feel comfortable leaving him to roam at large. Fraser, see that this man—who are you anyway?”

“I am Lord Gavin Carlisle of Estameer, and my father is the Earl of Parkhaven,” Gavin announced in a clear, ringing voice. The Prince’s gaze became extremely alert at the sound of that name.

“An aristocratic Whig is always dangerous, Fraser. See that he is closely guarded, but otherwise at his leisure. Now milady, if you are ready,” the Prince said, offering Sara his arm. Sara cast Gavin a smile that succeeded in combining elements of triumph and regret, before ascending the steps to the house on the Prince’s arm.

“I’ll horsewhip her!” exclaimed Gavin. The smile on Ian’s face froze.

“Ye shouldna say that in the presence o’ the Prince, if ye cherish yer freedom.”

“Don’t act like an idiot,” Gavin said wrathfully. “I might horsewhip my father for letting her run off unattended, I assume that my father is not also with the prince”—Ian shook his head—“but you know I wouldn’t touch a female. You aren’t actually going to detain me, are you?”

“Aye,” grinned Ian. “A man who would publicly greet his wife like she was a servant, is in need of much time tae reconsider the wisdom o’ his actions.” Gavin stared incredulously at his friend.

“Even you must be aware that it can’t become known that she has traveled, with this army, or any other. It’ll ruin her.”

“Sara will be every bit a lady no matter where she be,” said Ian, glaring peremptorily at his friend.

“Her name is Lady Carlisle,” Gavin said stonily.

“Lord George says she saved his life,” Fraser continued without pause. “And after more than a week o’ her company, there isn’t a single Highlander who doesna praise her courage and good cheer.”

Gavin could only stare. This was a Sara he did not know, didn’t even suspect, doubted could exist, but if she could capture the friendship of the Prince, and turn his own friend against him in less than ten days, there had to be more to her than the trembling young innocent he had seen.

“Ye can take me tae yer lodgings,” Ian suggested. “It will ease matters if I bide with ye.”

“You impudent dog,” Gavin said with a laugh. “You dare to stand between me and my wife, and then you want to take my bed. Some friend you turned out to be.”

“I’ll always be yer friend, even though I canna share yer politics,” Ian responded a little stiffly. “Now ye had better begin by telling me what ye have been up tae in Glasgow. It’s a long way from Estameer, and the Prince will be wanting tae know why ye are here.”

“Your damned pretend Prince had better concern himself with getting his hide out of England in one piece,” snapped Gavin, a little of his friendliness wearing off.

“We left England quite at our leisure, thank you,” replied Ian coldly.

“You know what I mean, and you might give some thought to your own safety.”

“Ye seem tae forget that I am the one supposed tae ask the questions.”

“All right, damn you,” cursed Gavin, as he remounted his horse. “I’m here to see about mining the coal at Estameer. That, at least, is one thing I can do without my father’s interference.”

“And?”

“And nothing. I brought my mother home to bury her …”

“Oich, I’m sorry,” Ian said, genuine sympathy thawing his reserve at once. “I know ye had a great fondness for the Countess.”

“It’s better this way.” Gavin didn’t want to talk about his mother. The wound was too fresh and too deep. “I told my father about the coal years ago, but he was sure nothing could make money except his trading. But Estameer’s mine now, and I’m going to grub every piece of coal out of the ground. You know how miserably poor our people are. They need food, not war or a different king. This coal will bring enough prosperity to the estate that they won’t have to raid their neighbors’ herds to get a full belly.”

“I dinna know ye had an interest in anything except horses and women, and no’ in that order,” observed Ian in cynical surprise.

“My father always kept everything in his hands, but the land is mine now, so you can see why I’ve got to send my wife back to London. With this war and all the work that must be done, I won’t have time to see to her amusement.”

“They why did ye marry her?”

Gavin’s eyes blazed. “That’s none of your damned business, Ian Fraser, and you know it. All you need to know is she was quite willing to become my wife.”

“But where does being your wife leave Sara?”

“I intend to send
Lady Carlisle
back to London. She knows nothing of country life. She’d be lost in Scotland.”

“Don’t ye want an heir?”

“What the hell kind of inquisition is this? Or do you think being fool enough to risk hanging for treason gives you the right to pry in my life?”

“I’m only interested in yer welfare, and that of yer wife,” Ian answered, and his sincerity was so obvious Gavin felt ashamed of his outburst.

“I don’t want anything or anybody to tie me down or get their claws into me.” Gavin paused briefly. His voice was softer when he spoke again, but the layer of bitterness and self-scorn was deep. “Mother and I used to idolize Father. There was no good reason I guess, we just did. Anyway, he made her life a hell and nearly destroyed mine. I don’t want anyone to ever have that much power over me again.”

“I do no’ think Sara wants tae do that tae ye.”

“Dammit, man, you’ve no business calling my wife by her Christian name. I could call you out for that.”

“I see ye still havena learned moderation,” Ian said, but his eyes twinkled.

“You’re supposed to lock me up, not preach to me,” said Gavin sharply.

“From what she tells me, I’ve spent more time in Sara’s company than ye have …”

“Ian!”

“Oich, all right,
Lady Carlisle’s
company then, and I dinna think ye know her very well. She’s a very resourceful lady and pluck tae the backbone.”

“Then tell me how she got mixed up with this traveling troop of comedy actors?” All the friendliness in Ian’s face vanished.

“Tis better ye ask yourself what kind o’ man she has married, that she should be abandoned by her husband and father-in-law, that she-should have tae travel this far on her own.”

“She married my title and social position.” Ian studied the bitter look on Gavin’s face.

“Tis a good thing I became yer friend years ago. I do no’ think I like ye now.”

“You don’t know me anymore.”

“Nay, and I don’t think I want tae.” He paused. “Don’t underestimate yer wife. Ye may wait too late tae discover what ye have thrown away.”

“You dare to offer me advice about females?” Gavin asked in rough contempt.

“About females? Never,” smiled Ian. “Ye be the expert there. I’m offering ye advice about ladies, especially yer wife. I don’t think ye know anything at all about them.”

“If you’re through trying to tell me how much your opinion of me has deteriorated, then tell me when I shall be allowed to regain possession of my wife.”

“Oich, I don’t think there is any question of yer ever being allowed to
regain possession
of Lady Carlisle. I should think the most ye can hope for is tae be granted an audience of a few minutes.”

“You can’t keep me from my own wife,” thundered Gavin angrily.

“I would never do such a thing,” said Ian smoothly, “but the Prince has grown quite fond o’ Lady Carlisle, and he was quite put out with yer treatment o’ her this morning. He will be the one tae decide when, and if, ye can see her.”

“This is intolerable. It’s unlawful as well.”

“What more can ye expect from a lawless rabble? Or was it ‘comedy actors’?”

The Prince decided to stay in Glasgow, partly to obtain clothes and shoes for his now ragged army, and partly to punish its citizens for showing so much zeal in raising a militia regiment for the government and outfitting it at their own expense. He sent them a demand for six thousand cloth short coats, twelve thousand linen shirts, six thousand pairs of shoes, six thousand bonnets, and six thousand tartan hose and blue bonnets, in addition to fifty-five-hundred pounds sterling.

Glasgow had grown rich through trade in sugar and tobacco with the West Indies and the American colonies and could easily afford to pay, but this further demand on their pockets angered the citizens, particularly since the regiment they had outfitted had been withdrawn by Cumberland for the defense of Edinburgh, but fear of looting made them yield to all the Prince’s demands.

Charles made a special effort to win over the Glaswegians. He took care to be elegantly dressed for his public appearances, and showed himself abroad four or five times without getting so much as the doffing of a cap from the meanest inhabitant. Twice a day he dined in public, accompanied by any ladies who would come, but most were from the narrow circle of Jacobite families who lived outside the city. It was at one of these dinners that Gavin was finally allowed to speak with Sara.

She saw him the moment he stepped through the arch into the great hall that served as the Prince’s dining room. She felt herself swell with pride which could not be destroyed by the lingering anger she still felt toward him. It was impossible not to feel pleased when his appearance made everyone else—including the Prince who was himself over six feet tall and very handsome—pale by comparison.

“I see Fraser has brought your husband to dine with us,” the Prince commented, following the direction of her gaze.

“My husband?” she faltered.

“I have not forgotten your title, nor did I miss the manner in which you greeted each other. You might ‘not be friends, but you are not strangers.” Sara looked abashed, but the Prince smiled.

“I could not be unaware of the rough manner in which he used you. The man is a Whig and a fool not to value a wife such as you. Use him as you please. His imprisonment shall continue until you desire its end.” Sara was almost too overcome to speak, but the Prince turned to some other guests, and she recovered her composure.

Ian brought Gavin to Sara. “Allow me to introduce Gavin Carlisle,” he said with a grin. “He says he knows ye.”

“It’s
Lord
Carlisle, dammit, and she’s my wife,” Gavin said savagely. Gavin had meant to guard his tongue, but having to wait until it suited the Prince before he was allowed to join his wife, and then being introduced in an inconsequential way, rubbed his already bruised spirits, and his temper flared. Unfortunately, his inner devil prompted him to add, “You might even say I’m her lord and master.”

“And I would reply as the Scots do,” answered Sara, stung. “My Lord is in heaven. As for a master, I have none.”

“Do you deny that we are married?” Gavin asked, realizing he had gone too far, but being too stubborn to admit it in front of Ian.

“I recall the making of quite a few promises, but as none of yours were kept, I saw no reason to be bound by mine.”

Gavin made a tremendous effort and pulled his temper under control. Ian was grinning, just waiting for him to make another mistake. “I hoped you would wait in London until I returned.”

'That’s not the impression you gave me. As you shouted at your father, and I repeat the exact words,
You wanted her, you can have her.
Well, he didn’t want me either, so I suppose I belong to no one but myself now.”

Gavin’s instinctive response was to shout something rude and explosive, but he was certain they would be overheard, and he bit his tongue. No matter how angry he was, he would not admit perfect strangers into a knowledge of his innermost feelings. Also, Sara had caught him fair and square, and they both knew it. “You can’t ignore our marriage contract,” he replied with lowered voice.

“I think the Prince might be persuaded to set that aside. Since you’re a Whig and a cousin to Cumberland’s second in command, he might even decide you’re too dangerous to live, and hang you.”

Both Gavin and Ian’s eyes grew large. “What do you mean, my cousin is Cumberland’s second in command?”

“Your father told me just before he abandoned me. Oh dear, I hope the Prince doesn’t find out,” Sara said with spurious sympathy. “That would undoubtedly make your position more difficult.”

Ian could not stifle the laughter that bubbled from his throat. An eruption of an entirely different sort threatened to explode from Gavin.

“I think ye must admit that Sara—I mean Lady Carlisle—has the upper hand,” said Ian. “Whatever her political leanings, the Prince will allow her the freedom tae do as she will. Ye, on the other hand, are a prisoner, at least for the present. And if I told him about yer cousin—” Ian laughed again. “Well, ‘tis no’ exactly a position o’ strength.”

“Thank you, wife,” growled Gavin.

“Maybe you’ll take more care how you greet me next time,” Sara replied spiritedly.