The Gathering Storm (The Jacobite Chronicles Book 3) (40 page)

“No,” he said. “It isna your fault.”

“It is,” she insisted. “I should have paid for his captain’s commission. If he hadn’t needed the money for that he would never have thought of marrying Anne. I’ll never forgive myself.”

“How do you know he hadna thought of it already? He’s very ambitious.”

“Because if he had he would never have humbled himself by coming to me to beg for money,” Beth said. “No, he’s done this because I wouldn’t buy his commission. And he’s done it quickly, while they were away, partly because of that, and partly because he knew I’d have stopped it if I’d known what he was up to.”

“You couldna have stopped it,” Alex pointed out quietly. “They’re both of full age, Beth.”

“I would have,” she replied firmly. “I’d have told her what he is, what he’s done. That would have made her think twice. God, how could she be so stupid? He’s horrible!”

Alex turned her gently to face him.

“No, he isna, Beth. He’s quite attractive, and he’s learned a lot about social behaviour in the last two years. He’s a lot more polished now.”

“Attractive!” she cried. “How can you say that? He’s ugly, and evil, and …and bow-legged!”

Alex laughed.

“Aye, I’ll give you bow-legged. But he’s no’ ugly, Beth. You just see him that way because ye dinna like him.”

“What did the will say?” she said suddenly, urgently. “You went to the reading with Anne. Will Richard become Lord Redburn now?”

“No. It’s a hereditary title. It’ll pass to Anne’s baby if it’s a boy, along with everything else, although Anne will have a generous allowance, and will be allowed to live in his London house and on one of his country estates until she dies, when they’ll revert to her son.”

“And if it’s a girl?” Beth asked.

“If it’s a girl, then Anne gets everything except a big dowry and a property in Sussex which will be held in trust until the girl marries or comes of age. Beth, I canna…”

“And if the child dies?” Beth persisted.

“Then Anne gets the lot. The title will be defunct, because there are no male relatives living.”

“Was there any provision made in case she married again?”

“No,” Alex said. “I dinna think Redburn expected her to marry again. He loved her, and thought she loved him enough to never consider another man.”

“She did love him,” said Beth. “Have you read the letter? She was coerced into marrying Richard. He managed to convince her that she needed looking after and the child needed a father, and that he would be the ideal choice.”

“Aye, but we discussed the possibility of this, Beth, if you remember. We knew she was vulnerable.”

“I know, but I thought she’d refuse all offers until she was at least out of mourning!” said Beth. “I know what’s happened,” she continued angrily. “The whole family have worn her down. It’ll be to Edward’s advantage to have so much money in the family, and all his sisters think it’s impossible for any woman to live without a man to guide their every move. She has no idea what she’s done, what she’s married. He’s evil, Alex. What can we do?” She looked up at him, her eyes pleading with him to find a solution.

“Accept it,” he said. “There’s nothing we can do. Maybe it’ll all work out better than ye think. Maybe he’s changed.”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “He hasn’t changed. He’s always been bad, even when he was a child. He’ll hurt her, Alex, and God help her and the child if it’s a boy.”

“Oh come on, Beth,” said Alex. “As badly as ye think of him, surely ye dinna think he’d harm a wee bairn?”

“I don’t know what he’d do. He beat John, repeatedly, and drove Martha from the house. He didn’t care what happened to
her
child.”

“Aye, but there’s a big difference between beating and dismissing servants, who were probably sullen at best and defiant at worst, from what ye’ve tellt me, and hurting your wife and innocent stepchild,” Alex reasoned.

“He hit me, too!” Beth cried, getting angry in spite of his reasonable tone. “And left me in the barn for Graeme to find. That’s hardly the action of a caring brother!”

“No, it isna. But ye tellt me yourself, you’d just thrown a knife at him and called him a coward. I might have hit ye myself, if I’d been him.” He smiled down at her, and her eyes softened.

“No, you wouldn’t,” she said, putting her arms round him. “You’d have taken the knife off me before I could have thrown it, and dragged me off to bed.” She froze momentarily, then continued speaking quickly before he could ask her what had crossed her mind. She couldn’t tell him that, even if it would prove how reasonable her fears for Anne were. “You don’t know him,” she finished lamely.

“Maybe not,” Alex admitted. “But I ken the woman he’s married, and I hardly think she’s likely to provoke him like you did. Even if the child is a boy, Richard’ll still be wealthy. He’ll get his captaincy and any other rank his commanding officer is daft enough to gie him, and he’ll be able to entertain his officer friends to his heart’s content. And Anne’ll be happy to indulge his every whim and look after him and the child. She’ll no’ gie him reason to hit her, and if he’s feeling vicious he’ll be able to bully his men instead. It could all work out better than ye think, Beth. Let’s look on the bright side.”

He didn’t add
because there’s nothing else we can do, anyway,
but they both thought it.

“You’re right,” she said. “I’ll look on the bright side. But while I’m looking on it, I’ll keep an eye on her. When are they coming back to London?”

He looked at the letter, which had become a bit crumpled during their embrace.

“In two weeks. Less than one week, now,” he said, because the letter had taken three days to arrive, and had lain neglected for another week.

“I think we’ll throw a dinner for them,” Beth said. “To welcome them back. That’ll please Anne and annoy Richard, because he’ll be expecting me to be angry and to ignore them. And it’ll give me a chance to see if she’s as happy as she says she is. Now, let’s change the subject. What did Murray’s letter say?”

Murray’s letter said that he had received Alex’s and had included the information in a packet he’d already prepared, signed by himself and many of the chiefs, stating that they were of the unanimous opinion that no rebellion was possible without French support. He had given this to the Earl of Traquair, who promised to forward it to the prince straight away and who intended to go to France himself soon in any case. All that remained to be done was to continue gathering information where possible and to wait for Charles’ response. Because there was nothing more they could do to influence Charles, Beth was not thinking about that as she entered Sarah’s shop, having turned her attention to more domestic problems.

She had paid a visit to Caroline and Edwin, although she had rightly assumed that Anne would also have written to them with her news. She had, but with the consideration that was one of her most endearing features, she’d posted the letter to Caroline two days after Beth’s so that her ‘dear sister’ would receive the news before anyone else. The Harlows were of the same general opinion as Alex; it was a shock, but there was nothing anyone could do but hope all would turn out well. But then they didn’t know Richard either. No one did. And she couldn’t tell anyone. It was a lonely feeling, but she had been lonely before and had learnt to cope with it.

Sarah was just finishing off an elaborate and very youthful hairstyle for an elderly overpainted lady, and politely asked Beth if she would be so kind as to take a seat for a few moments, whilst at the same time demonstrating by way of an elaborate mime behind the woman’s back that this ridiculous coiffure was not her idea and that the woman sporting it was really as stupid as she looked. Beth managed to refrain from laughing and sat down demurely, accepting the coffee offered by a very young girl she had not seen before, who then disappeared through the door leading into Sarah’s private room.

“I haven’t seen her before,” said Beth as soon as the customer had gone.

“I take it you mean Emily and not the cantankerous old trout?” said Sarah irreverently. “Yes, she works for me a couple of days a week, cleaning, making coffee, that sort of thing. She’s got a big family, so the money comes in useful. She’s gone home now, you can come through.”

“And you can afford a servant,” Beth said, following Sarah through to her room.

“Yes I can,” she replied proudly. “Wonderful, isn’t it? And it’s nice to help someone else out too. Mrs Marshall was my last client today, but I’m really busy normally. Business really picked up after Anne married Lord Redburn. Which I assume is what you’re here to tell me about. Richard and Anne, I mean.”

“It isn’t, actually. I thought you’d already know. You seem to know everything the moment it happens.”

“Everybody in London knows about Anne and Richard, though. She wrote to Lady Winter.” Sarah beckoned Beth to a seat and took one opposite. “Are you frightened for her?” she asked.

Beth looked around the room, which was simply but tastefully furnished. Two comfortable chairs and an oak table, cream-painted walls, a framed landscape hanging over the fireplace. A little rug by the fire.

“Yes,” she admitted after a moment. “But everyone else seems to think I’m worrying unduly.”

“Even Sir Anthony?”

“Yes, even Anthony. He thinks that Richard may be settling down, and doubts that Anne will provoke him like I did. Which is true. You have a nice room here. I haven’t seen it before.”

“Thank you,” said Sarah. “Does Sir Anthony know that Richard tried to rape you?” She said it matter-of-factly, as though she were asking whether Anthony knew that Beth liked toast for breakfast.

The room vanished. Everything vanished except this young woman sitting opposite her, who knew what nobody knew. Beth stared at her, her eyes wide with shock.

“How do you know that?” she blurted out, before realising that she had now made any denial impossible. “Did Richard tell you?”

“No, of course he didn’t,” Sarah said. “No one told me.”

“Then how…?” Beth was stunned, panicked. Her voice died in her throat. Sarah leaned forward.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “Maybe I shouldn’t have mentioned it. I know all about men and sex, as you’re aware. I know what they’re like when you please them and I know what they’re like when you don’t. I’ve also had those who’d already tried it on with another woman and been refused. The nice ones wanted you to make them feel handsome and virile, to soothe their hurt feelings. And the bastards wanted to take their frustration out on you, humiliate you like she’d done to them. That’s what Richard did that night when he came to my room and I tried to comfort him. If he could he’d have raped me and beaten me, but as it was you’d kicked him so hard he wasn’t capable.”

“So he just beat you instead,” Beth said.

“Yes. But I knew what had happened. I thought at first that he’d made a try for Jane, Grace, or even little Mary. I wouldn’t put anything past him.” Sarah grimaced. “Even I didn’t think he’d try to swive his own sister, though. I couldn’t believe it when you told me.”

“I didn’t tell you!” Beth protested.

“Yes, you did. You told me you’d had an argument with him and he was very angry with you when he left you.”

She had. She remembered now, sitting on the foot of Sarah’s bed, assessing the injuries Richard had inflicted on her. She had known, all this time. Over two years.

“You haven’t told anyone, have you?” Beth said.

“No, of course I haven’t. I think you should tell your husband though.”

“No!” Beth almost shouted. “No, I can’t.”

“Why not? He doesn’t seem the kind of man who’d blame you. He’s nice, and he’s obviously very fond of you.”

“That’s the problem,” Beth said. “He wouldn’t blame me. But he would kill Richard.”

“Well, that would certainly sort out the problem of Anne’s stupidity, if he did,” Sarah said, considering. “Although Anne might be a bit upset at being widowed twice in a year. Are you worried that Richard might kill Sir Anthony instead of the other way round?”

She was completely serious. Beth looked at Sarah as if seeing her for the first time, realising how little she knew the woman who had once been her maid.

“No. Anthony is a good swordsman. But Richard’s my brother, Sarah,” she said. “I couldn’t be responsible for his death.”

“Well no, I suppose not,” said Sarah doubtfully. “Everyone’s different, I suppose. If my brother did that to me, I’d be happy to see him dead. I won’t tell Sir Anthony though. It’s not for me to do that. But I will keep an ear out for any rumours about Anne for you. Is that what you wanted to ask me?”

Beth had virtually forgotten what she
had
come to talk to Sarah about, she was so shocked by the direction the conversation had taken.

“That would be nice,” she said now, dragging her mind back to the present day. “But no. I came to talk to you about Maggie.”

She quickly outlined how Maggie was still in bed ten days after the birth, and how active she normally was. That she didn’t even do anything in the bed, just lie or sit there pleating the bedsheets between her fingers for hours on end.

“Murdo thinks she needs someone to talk to. Someone who understands what she’s been through.”

“Murdo,” said Sarah. “Is he the one who rides a horse like a madman?”

Beth laughed.

“Yes. But he’s very sensitive as well. And I think he’s right. She won’t talk to her husband, and I’ve tried, too, but she won’t talk to me either.”

“And you think I might have more success because I’ve lost a child as well?” Sarah asked quietly.

“Yes,” Beth admitted. “I know you haven’t told me the details, but…”

“I haven’t told anybody the details,” Sarah said. “I’ve never talked to anyone about it, ever.”

Beth nodded, bit her lip.

“I’m sorry,” she said, standing up. “I shouldn’t have asked you. It wasn’t fair.”

“Yes it was,” Sarah said. “You want to help your friend. And maybe it’s time I did talk about it. They say it helps to tell someone your problems, that by just talking about it you feel better, whether they offer any advice or not. I’ll come tomorrow.”

“It does help, if you can trust the person you’re talking to,” said Beth, sitting down again. “Can I tell
you
something?”