The Libertine (19 page)

CHAPTER NINETEEN

It was late when the Keavey carriage shunted into
Edinburgh. As the coachman guided the team of horses through the outer reaches
of the burgh the sun lowered in the sky and the buildings cast long shadows.

Chloris felt the darkness descending on her—both inside and
out. For the early part of the journey she’d felt only the hurt of being torn
apart from Lennox. They had not even had the chance to say goodbye. That pained
her immensely. The taste of happiness she’d had with him was something she
thought might strengthen her, but it only made her dread her return to
Edinburgh. Her life there seemed futile, hopeless. She couldn’t even think about
what would happen when she returned home to Gavin. When she tried to prepare for
it, her mind seized.

Everything that was vital and alive in her was linked to her
time with Lennox. As the journey progressed and Tamhas’s words flitted through
her mind over and over again, she rued her sorry actions. Would he do as she
requested and let Lennox and his people be? She covered her face with her hands,
scarcely daring to consider the likelihood. No, Tamhas would not be placated on
the subject of those at Somerled. He’d glared at her when she pleaded with him
again on her departure from Torquil House that morning. It was to no avail. He
scowled and slammed the carriage door shut, ordering the coachman to be on his
way, before he turned on his heel and headed into the stables. Chloris’s heart
sank as she watched him, her suspicions roused. He would not let it pass. She
should never have gone to seek help from Lennox. She’d brought a terrible thing
about, Tamhas’s anger and another reason to hate Lennox and his people.

She also wondered if Tamhas would inform her husband of her
misdemeanors by letter. She did not care if Gavin cast her out now. She had
done, before. Now it was as if her life was over. Yet she did not need another
reason for Gavin to despise her.
Foolish, foolish
woman
. All for a few hours of happiness, stolen moments of passion
with Lennox.

The rituals he had undertaken meant so little to her now
because it was him that she cared about.
I love him, I have
lost him, and I have left him in danger
. She could only hope that
returning to her real life would restore order for Lennox. It was her only real
concern. She recalled walking into his parlor and rued that simple act. Thinking
it would aid her, she had unwittingly started something that now threatened the
safety of so many people. Chloris realized too late that a love affair between
two not only involves those two, but everyone around them. Secret meetings and
stolen kisses had repercussions.

As the journey progressed the emptiness and regret she felt
only grew.

The carriage slowed as it advanced through the crowded streets
within the city walls. She stared out at the city that she had become part of
since her marriage, and she did not want to be there. Originally she’d
considered herself lucky to have made a good match and moved to the capital,
which had initially been exciting for her. It was most unusual for a woman to
leave the place where she had grown up, but Tamhas had made the match on her
behalf. He knew Gavin through a mutual acquaintance, Tamhas’s agent for selling
wool hides. They had struck up a friendship and Gavin had introduced Tamhas to
many notable people in Edinburgh. At the time Gavin was an established landlord
in the city, and he had recently buried his first wife. As Gavin’s true nature
revealed itself, Chloris often wondered about that first wife, but when she
asked him about it Gavin grew angry and would not speak of it. In time her
female acquaintances enlightened her. The woman had died in childbirth within
five months of their marriage. Both she and the baby had perished. Her informers
hinted the child had been conceived out of wedlock. It was because of the tragic
circumstances and Gavin’s ongoing desire for a son that Chloris did not speak
again of the matter. The fact that she subsequently failed to conceive when his
first wife had been with child only made things more difficult.

As the coachman guided the carriage toward the older part of
the city, where the well-to-do merchants had their homes, they passed through
the more cluttered and ramshackle parts of the town. Here the street vendors and
traders sold their goods along the narrow track left for the carriage, and
noxious smells rose from the gully at either side of the street.

The coachman yelled from his perch, warning people out of his
path. The man was weary, having been told to deliver Chloris and fast about
it.

As she glanced out of the carriage Lennox’s description of the
Highlands whispered through her mind. Previously she had assumed it a lonely,
barren place, only fit for sheep and wild Gaelic speakers, but Lennox’s words
had reformed her Lowlands view of the heathen north. What he had described to
her was a romantic place, a place where people could live and love without
censure, a place where kin, clan and coven were cherished. On that last fateful
meeting he’d also told her that it would be hard, that they would have to build
a new life together. It was a dream that would never be realized, an impossible
dream. And now that she was forced back to the life she had known before, the
yearning she had for Lennox and a life with him twisted like a knife in her
chest.

The bitter irony of her situation made her eyes smart with
unshed tears. She’d almost been ready to abandon her fears and leave with
Lennox, and instead she had to return to the pitiful existence she’d had before
in order to protect him and his people.

As for her lot, she could not go on living the way she had
been. Gavin did not want her, had not done so for several years. She had failed
him in every way. Barren, and now an adulteress, she knew what she had to do.
She would be brave and talk to him, be honest and offer to leave, in order to
relieve him of his burden. She would seek employment. He could marry again, have
children with another woman. It was the best she could hope for.

The carriage drew to a halt in the yard at the rear of the
house.

Mary, the downstairs servant, gasped aloud when she opened the
door and saw her mistress standing there.

“Mary,” Chloris said in greeting as she stepped past her and
into the hallway, removing her gloves as she did so. The hallway—so familiar,
but somehow strange after her time away—was gracious and well-appointed. The
walls were decorated with painted trellises and the stone slabs on the floor
were highly polished. It was a fine home. Why did she feel like a stranger there
now? The coachman followed, carrying her trunk. Chloris spoke again to Mary, who
stood by looking amazed at her mistress’s return. “Would you please offer my
cousin’s coachman refreshment and a bed for the night?”

“Yes, Mistress Chloris.” Mary curtsied. “We were not expecting
you,” she added.

“I know, but don’t fret on it. Is Master Gavin at home?”

Mary seemed rooted to the spot. The girl was usually quick to
speak out, but now she fidgeted with her apron and looked awkward.

Chloris awaited her answer.

Eventually Mary nodded.

Chloris looked down the hallway. At this time of the evening he
would either be in the parlor, if they had company, or in his study if they did
not. “Is he in his study?”

“Yes, mistress.”

Chloris noticed that Mary was quite flushed in the face as if
shocked by her mistress’s return. “That will be all, thank you. See to the
coachman, I will announce myself.”

Chloris headed off down the hall toward the study.

“But, mistress...”

Chloris paused and looked back over her shoulder. “Yes?”

Mary’s cheeks flamed as red as her hair. “There is someone with
him,” Mary said, and nodded her head down the hall, “in there.”

It was the girl’s discomfort and her sympathetic glance that
made Chloris realize what she was trying to convey. Gavin was entertaining a
visitor. Quickly, she assessed the potential situation. If it was a friend or
associate Mary might have warned her, but not with such a fretful stance. It was
something potentially more upsetting and fraught.

Chloris wondered on it. She had to inform him she was here. She
steeled her nerves, strengthened her resolve. Chloris was home, but she was not
the same Chloris as before. “Thank you for your concern, Mary. You’re a good
girl.”

When she nodded and smiled, Mary scuttled away as if relieved
to be gone.

Chloris continued on to the study. She was about to knock, but
thought better of it. Turning the handle, she opened the door. The sight that
greeted her should have shocked her. It would have done several weeks earlier,
but now it did not.

Gavin was there, and he was not alone.

The woman was facedown over his desk, her skirts pushed up to
her waist, her ample buttocks on display. Gavin stood behind her, breeches
around his knees, one hand pressing the woman to the desk at the small of her
back. With the other hand he guided his erection into her.

Gavin’s face was contorted, his eyes all but closed, and he did
not see or hear the door open. For the woman it was a different story. Her face
was turned on one side and facing the door while she was pressed to the desk.
Her abundant brown hair was loose, her breasts out and crushed against the
papers there. She was an attractive woman, with dark and dramatic looks, and her
eyes flickered with uncertainty when she saw Chloris standing there.

Chloris wondered if the woman knew who she was, and suspected
she did.

The woman lifted her head as if she was about to say something,
when Gavin grunted heavily at her rear. Before the woman had a chance to
announce the intruder, Chloris stepped out and closed the door quietly behind
her.

She felt strangely calm.

This was why Gavin had sent her away. Not for her health or to
visit with her relatives, but so that he could bring his mistress into their
home. She had known he had a mistress, but he had been reasonable about it and
kept the woman in rented chambers in another part of the burgh.

Chloris had never seen him with another woman. But now she had,
and it did not touch her. At one time it might have reinforced the futility of
her existence—a sham of a wife with no children, a woman who had brought
finance, but nothing else. Now it only served to show her that she had been
right to grasp the few hours of happiness that she’d had with Lennox. That had
kindled a flame in her. He’d made her different, for he had brought out the
deep, essential part of her, and that would never be fully submerged again.
Above all her sense of calmness on the matter solidified her plans to take
action.

Gavin wanted his mistress installed in their home.

Chloris could give him the freedom to do that.

* * *

The following day Lennox crossed the Tay back into Fife.
By the time he rode across the land toward Somerled, evening was closing in. He
was weary, having not slept at his lodgings in Dundee the night before, but he
did not want to rest. Dark clouds hovered over him, an immense sense of
foreboding building all around.

And he longed for Chloris.

The need to continue the hunt for Jessie was also fierce. He
had to assure Chloris that his plans for them to be together had not altered. At
dawn he would begin again. Getting so close to Jessie had given him hope,
knowing that she was still alive and had so narrowly escaped trial and
persecution. The truth of it was that she could disappear completely again,
afraid for her life. Wherever she’d gone, staying hidden was crucial. Despite
the fact he wanted to find her, he hoped no one else would. Least of all those
death-hungry witch hunters.
Please, let her be
safe.

Who was her cohort, the man who had set her free? Lennox could
only pray it was one of their kind, someone who would continue to shelter and
protect her. Tomorrow he would encourage his people to seek word of Jessie on
this side of the Tay.

However, as he skirted Saint Andrews and drew close to the
place where he’d made his home, the sense of foreboding he felt multiplied, and
fast. Something was amiss. He felt it—he felt his coven reaching out for him,
urging him to return quickly.

Troubled, he pressed on at a pace.

That’s when he felt magic rise from the ground. Beneath the
horse’s hooves a spell had been set. Shadow huffed on the evening air and
tension rose from the beast. Glancing across the landscape Lennox sensed it was
one of many such warding spells, designed to keep enemies at bay. He passed
through, however. For whom had these boundary spells been set? His already
troubled thoughts were stirred afresh. Something was badly wrong.

“Nearly home, boy.” Shadow’s flesh shivered when Lennox stroked
his neck. The horse did not falter on the familiar path, but there was a sense
of fear and urgency building in the air around them and the beast sensed it,
too.

When he got closer to the house, he saw candlelight flickering
in the windows. Glenna and Ailsa always set them out to guide him home when he
was away. However, this time it was not only so that
he
could see his way. The candles were many and they lit the area in
front of the house, where he could see figures moving. They were going in and
out of the house, carrying goods. Glenna, Lachlan, Ailsa and the rest. The
largest cart they owned was at the steps, the one they only used to bring wood
and goods for the carriage making. Two of the younger men were busy covering the
contents over with blankets and tying them down with ropes.

Lennox leaped down from his mount even while he approached, and
urged Shadow to the trough. Glenna saw him and made her way over.

“What has occurred?”

“I am so glad to see you.” She wiped her hands on her apron. “I
feared you would not return in time.” Her breathing was labored from her
exertions. “It is Keavey. When Ailsa took your letter up there he caught
her.”