Bride of the Solway (27 page)

Ross felt as if a lead weight had settled in his gut. He had sought his father. And found a traitor! Trying to sound as normal as possible, he said, 'But he must have returned eventually. Else how did he meet my mother?'

'He returned about fifteen years after Culloden, I think. He called himself James Ross Scott, then, for there was still a price on his head.'

Cassie gasped. Then, under her skirts, she laid her hand on his. It was balm to his bleeding wounds. He had been sure she must be repelled by him now. Could she love him still, in spite of this?

it meant little by then, my dear,' Sir Angus continued. 'The government was secure enough by that time and certainly didn't want to stir up trouble by arresting people like the captain's father. I'm sure they spied on him, to make sure he wasn't up to mischief. But apart from that, they let him alone. Like many others who had.. .er.. .chosen the wrong side, he was quietly accepted back into society. And he prospered. In trade, I'm afraid, but without his lands, nothing else was open to him. Eventually, he was comfortable enough to re-establish himself as a gentleman and to take a wife. He must have been well nigh fifty by then. He couldn't afford to delay any longer.'

'How did he meet my mother?'

'I'm afraid I don't know that. I assume he met her in Edinburgh, where he often went on business. Come to think of it, her father may have been his lawyer there. That would certainly explain it.'

Ross nodded. He was finding it increasingly difficult to speak without betraying his emotions.

'Her name was Margaret Graham. And you were their only child— Ross Graham Fergusson. Your family lived in a fine new house in Dumfries. And your father prospered, until the government decided to return some of the forfeited lands.'

'I don't understand. The lands were returned?'

'Only some of them. The government returned some of the estates to their original owners. In 1784,I think it was. But your father's estate was not among them. I don't know why. Perhaps he had not spent enough time, or money, on toadying to those with the power to make such decisions. Whatever the reason, it was clear then that his estate was gone for ever. There was no chance of regaining it. Your father died that same year. I was told it was an apoplexy, as a result of his fury at the wicked wrong done to him by the government. I can well imagine that was the cause. He had a temper, most certainly.'

That old man—shouting—must have been Ross's father. Dead for over thirty years. And Ross's only memory of him was of anger. And of his mother's fear.

'My poor mother. What did she do, alone with a child of just three?'

'Her father had insisted on generous marriage settlements. He was also trustee for your inheritance from your father. The widow and child would have lived comfortably enough, except.

'Except?'

'Your father's family—he had two older sisters, both married— wanted to go to law to make the government return the family lands. They didn't have the money to pursue the case, of course. They wanted your inheritance to pay the legal costs. Your poor mother was plagued by them, and their huge broods of children, day in, day out. She resisted strongly, and as long as she had her father's support, she succeeded. But once he died, she had no hope of continuing to resist the family pressure, for she had no one to take her side. So she did the only thing she could. She sold everything and fled with you to England, to her other trustee, a London lawyer by the name of Gent. I now believe that he sheltered your mother and helped you both to hide from your father's grasping family.'

'And she changed her name back to Graham.'

'She must have done so. It appears she was determined not to be found.'

Ross nodded. There was a lump in his throat at the memory of his mother. He would not have believed such courage and devotion was possible. She had even carried her secrets to the grave, in order to protect the son she loved. If only he could see her, now that he was a man, and tell her—

'When did she die?'

Ross had to clear his throat to reply. 'When I was eight. I was brought up by a dear friend of my mother's, Miss Mary
Rosevale
. I believe they had been at school together, in London. Miss
Rosevale
was already bringing up her own nephew and she kindly took me in. Max and I grew up almost like brothers. Eventually, we even joined the army together.'

'You are still close friends?'

'Yes, sir. Very close. Even though my friend is now much risen in the world. He served with me as plain Captain
Rosevale
, but now he is the Earl of Penrose.' Ross felt he was starting to regain his composure. It was easier to talk about Max. And the touch of Cassie's hand on his was healing, still. She was an amazing woman, too.

'Indeed? I have heard of that affair. It was the talk of London a few months ago. Probably still is.' Sir Angus sipped his brandy appreciatively. 'Am I right in thinking that the new Earl of Penrose has snared the family wealth as well? The
rumours
of that have reached us even here.'

'The earldom is not well endowed. That is true, sir. But the earl is not marrying his cousin for her money, I can assure you of that. Theirs is a love match.' He glanced quickly at Cassie. He could not help it.

Sir Angus grunted. 'New-fangled notions. Don't hold with '
em
,
m'self
. In my day, we married where we were bid.'

That was too much for Cassie's self-control, it seemed. 'Godfather,' she burst out, 'I did not tell you earlier, but James's latest idea is to marry me to Colonel Anstruther, who must be old enough to be my grandfather. You wouldn't approve of that, would you?'

'Anstruther? But, surely he already has a—' Sir Angus cleared his throat loudly. 'Are you sure, Cassie? Colonel Anstruther is no tradesman. No. Most definitely a gentleman, not at all the kind of man to stoop to James's notion of a bride-price. Still.. .it would be a good match for you, no doubt of that. Anstruther is extremely wealthy. And he has no children of his own. So—' He
coloured
a little. 'But it is not to be thought of. Not now. Wicked—and ill bred—to suggest such a thing. Once the colonel becomes a widower, perhaps. And once there has been a decent interval of mourning.'

Ross cursed silently. Sir Angus was no longer reacting as Cassie had hoped. It was her own fault, of course, for mentioning the colonel at all. She should have allowed Sir Angus to continue to believe that James was about to sell her to a shopkeeper.

Ross leaned forward, pressing his warmth against Cassie as he did so, trying to provide reassurance. She had played her part so convincingly. Until now. Ross swallowed hard, forcing himself to focus on Cassie. He would have to distract Sir Angus. Somehow. But how? It was not an easy thing to divert an old man from the prospect of a match as rich as Croesus for his goddaughter. Especially when the alternative had just been shown to have a very
unsavoury
history.

Ross's gut churned again at the thought of what he had just learned. A traitor's son. And he had dared to aspire to Cassie's hand? Yet what else could he do? He had taken her honour. He had to restore it...by giving her the protection of his name. Graham. That was his name. And he would keep it so. it was an
honourable
name, belonging to an officer and a gentleman. A name with no taint.

'Sir,' he began quietly, 'what you have told me about my family puts most of my questions to rest. It is truly a sad history—what a grasping family they must be—but, at least, I now know who I am and where I came from. Thanks to you, I have learned that I have no expectations beyond what I had when I came to Scotland. And that I am the son of a sometime tradesman, who was a traitor, to boot.' He placed his glass on the mahogany side table with great deliberation. Then, rising to his feet, he said proudly, 'Nevertheless, I am not without friends, or influence. I am a gentleman; I hold the king's commission.'

Sir Angus looked a little puzzled at his guest's behaviour, but he nodded his agreement. To a man of his upbringing, an officer was most certainly a gentleman, whatever his family history.

Ross cleared his throat, not daring to look at Cassie. 'I can assure you, sir, that I am comfortable enough to support a wife. With your permission, I should like to pay my addresses to your goddaughter.'

Cassie gasped.

Sir Angus ignored her. He rose to his feet, glass in hand. 'Captain Graham, this is most irregular. One does not make such a request when the lady herself is present. And you should address yourself to James Elliott, not to me. Since Cassie's father is dead, James stands in his place.'

'I could not make such a request to a man who tried to have me hanged.' 'What?'

Ross quickly explained that he had rescued Miss Elliott when her horse had bolted in a thunderstorm. For his pains, he had been accused of abduction and thrown into gaol.

'But that is even more outrageous!' cried Sir Angus. The brandy was shaking in his glass. 'James Elliott is certainly not everything a gentleman should be, but to do such a thing to an officer...! I cannot believe it.'

'It is true, Godfather.' Cassie spoke quietly, stepping forward to put a hand on the old man's arm.

He looked down at her for a long moment. Then he frowned in puzzlement. 'But if the captain... What were you doing, Cassie, riding alone in a thunderstorm?'

'I... Godfather, I was coming to you. I had no choice. James was threatening to send me to the Bedlam. That very day.'

'What? No, no, that makes no sense at all. If he thought he could cover his debts by marrying you off, he would never have thought of such a thing. No one—not even the basest
shopman
—would marry a woman out of the Bedlam. James must have been in his cups when he made such a threat. Or driven to it by anger. Which was it, Cassie?'

The blood drained from Cassie's face. 'He was furious with me,' she whispered, staring at the floor. 'He said I was unchaste.'

Ross's sharp intake of breath was very loud in the sudden silence. It hissed between his teeth, for his jaws were clamped tightly together. There was no other sound for a long time.

'And was he right?' Sir Angus asked. His voice was quiet but very firm.

The blood rushed back to Cassie's face till her cheeks were flaming. Ross held his breath, waiting.

'Look at me,
Cassie,'Sir
Angus said.

She raised her eyes to his. 'Sir, he accused me falsely. He found me with a love poem, sent by a boy of fifteen.'
  
'Who was he?'

Cassie shook her head. 'I cannot tell you his name, Godfather. He is only a child, after all, and does not deserve the punishment that James intended for him.'

'You would defend him?'

'I refused to give James his name. He will not be thrashed by my doing.'

By Jove, what a woman she was! His woman! With difficulty, Ross forced himself to stand motionless, and mute. He wanted to cheer, to kiss her until she was mindless, to— But now was not the time.

'Ah.' Sir Angus stroked his chin. 'Yes, I see. He is a gentleman's son?'

'Yes.'

'And for this, James Elliott would confine you to the Bedlam?'

'He said he would. He said he would marry me to a tinker, if he could find one rich enough. He said that if my injured reputation got about, he would confine me for the rest of my life. As my mother was.' Cassie felt she was choking as she spoke those last few words.

Sir Angus reached out a hand and patted her shoulder. She felt herself relaxing a little. She had succeeded in arousing his sympathy again, at last. It was only a pity that she had had to embroider the truth in order to convince him.

Sir Angus looked past Cassie to Ross, who was still standing motionless, his jaw set grimly, as he seemed to have done throughout Cassie's recital. It was impossible to know what he was thinking. 'And you, sir, wish to pay your addresses to my goddaughter, even having heard all this? Even having learned, at first hand, what a flighty, headstrong child she is?'

Ross did not hesitate. 'I do, sir.'

'Even knowing about her mother?'

Cassie held her breath. Sir Angus was going to tell Ross the awful truth. Would he reject her once he knew?

'Sir Angus, I know only what is common knowledge and what was said here, just now—that
Mrs
Elliott was taken to the lunatic asylum and died there.'

'You are determined to marry Cassie and you do not know?'

Ross straightened his shoulders. 'I am determined to marry Cassie, sir. For better, for worse.'

Sir Angus almost recoiled from the force of Ross's words. 'Of course, of course,' he blustered. 'In any case, there is nothing to fear. Cassie's mother was no lunatic'

'Then, why—?'

'She... Forgive me, my dear, if this gives you pain, but the captain has the right to know. Cassie's mother, sir, was cruelly used by her husband. To spare Cassie's feelings, I will say no more than that. Eventually, she attempted to escape from her husband, in company with another man.'

'Oh, no!' Cassie gasped. She had never believed it, and yet it must be so. Her godfather would not lie about such a thing.

Sir Angus threw her a compassionate glance before continuing. 'Cassie's father caught her and had her taken to the asylum for a wanton. No one could do anything to save her. In the end, she died there.'