‘Do you wish to ride alone for the battle, in your family’s name?’ George asked. A sullen silence resulted from Jamie and, although I couldn’t see him, I could imagine his spoilt mouth turning down at the corners. ‘Then let us keep you alive to rebuild your family fortunes and honour, and do justice to the name. Now, leave me to sleep and go and get fed, man. Tomorrow we can talk about what we do now. I’m for staying at Dunaire tonight, then maybe I will take my men and ride for Edinburgh to spend Christmas in the city with Isobel and the children.’
‘As you wish,’ Jamie said, sounding as though his mouth had been sewn up and the words were having to squeeze themselves out one at a time.
‘Excellent,’ Lachlan whispered to me as Jamie walked between us and on down the stairs with a face like a last-minute penalty taker who had just failed to equalise. ‘Shall we go back to the others, then?’
‘Might as well,’ I whispered back, restraining myself from the urge to put my head into the room to check that George was actually getting into bed. ‘I don’t think he’ll talk to Jamie again tonight.’
We spiralled down in the darkness of the staircase between the walls. On the next floor down, a candle was burning in the room with the desk and I put out a hand to stop Lachlan from continuing on down to the hall. ‘Who’s in there?’
He looked. ‘Jamie. And one of the soldiers who rode in with him.’
Cautiously, I stuck my head into the room where Jamie was pacing.
‘We have to ride south,’ Jamie was saying. ‘Earl McKellmustlead his men to battle. He must be seen to fight.’
The other man was by the window. I’d seen him around the place, a little aloof but just one of the booted and breeched soldiers who seemed to have authority over the barefoot and kilted fighting men who occupied the hall downstairs. He was tall and straight-backed but with an air of desperation and eyes that kept darting to the door as though they wanted to make an independent escape. He was standing in that ‘patient’ way used by employees everywhere when they are listening to the boss raging while knowing that none of the rage is anything to do with them but that they are going to be expected to solve the problem nonetheless.
‘Yes, my lord,’ he said tolerantly. ‘But if Earl McKell wishes to withdraw we have no choice.’
‘But I had arranged… the heat of battle…’
‘Yes, my lord.’ The soldier shifted his weight as though uncomfortable.
‘Of course, battle is unpredictable enough,’ Jamie went on as though talking to himself now.
‘Yes, my lord.’
Jamie’s face worked. He looked as though he were chewing something very bitter. ‘It comes to me,’ he said quietly. ‘It all comes to me. No sons to the line, and I am made heir and now he won’t ride? I have worked too long and too hard for this. I haveseen all that ought to have been mine spent and spoiled and used to marry my sister well.’ He shook his head and for a moment looked so despondent that I felt sorry for him. ‘My father went quite mad, you know.’
The soldier clearly toyed with a ‘Yes, my lord’, wondered about adding ‘maybe it runs in the family’, then thought better of it all and settled his face into bland lines of attentiveness.
‘All would have been different but for his madness. It was cards, at the end. All lost to cards and a throw of the die.’
‘Yes, my lord.’
‘But for the money settled on my sister. She was well married to George before our fortune was lost.’
I leaned back into Lachlan, who was right behind me. ‘More sibling rivalry,’ I said. ‘Poor Jamie. He’s so jealous of his sister.’
I knew how that felt. I watched Jamie with more sympathy now and a small pang of missing Lenny again. Jealousy had made me such a bad sister and, although I’d tried to make it up to him once we’d grown up a little – I took a deep breath and let myself admit it – the guilt still hung there, swivelling over my heart like a medallion I wore to prove my wrongdoing.
‘Och, he’s just mouthing off,’ Lachlan said into my ear. ‘He’s got no power to make George go and he’s working off his anger.’
It sounded like more than that to me. As though Jamie was thwarted in some great idea that had hung on the battle. Perhaps he’d hoped to cover himself in glory in some way that didn’t involve fighting? George had said that Jamie was to stay out of things, to stay safe, so he couldn’t have been intending to win the day single-handed – perhaps he had intended to approach James and appeal to him for lands and money?
I looked at Jamie again. Yes, I could see that. Wait for the battle to be over, for a glorious victory for James Stuart, and then ask for reward. But there would be no glorious victory. James would vanish and Jamie would be no better off. Georgewas doing the right thing for him too, although obviously he couldn’t know that.
Lachlan whispered in my ear again, a draught of air that made my neck prickle pleasurably. ‘Let’s go. He’s going to spend the night complaining, but there’s nothing he can do.’
We returned to the cellar where everyone was sitting at the table in varying attitudes of hopelessness. ‘Well?’ Mal looked up as we came in.
‘George has gone to bed and Jamie looks to be taking the withdrawal hard.’ I sat down next to Kaylinn. ‘He was really keen for battle.’
‘A loyal Jacobite,’ David said.
‘Hmmm.’ I couldn’t help it – I found it hard to think of Jamie as being a loyal anything. I had no idea why as I’d never seen him do anything more reprehensible than lounge around while others worked and possible inappropriate behaviour with the women. I tried to rationalise the feeling, settling on the fact that I had felt cheated of my ‘handsome earl’ when he’d first appeared, and that dissonance had prejudiced me against him. I still held an echo of the sympathy I’d felt for him, coming in second place to his sister. No benefits for Jamie to being the lord of lost lands.
‘Anyway. We’ve sorted it. George won’t ride south to join battle, Jamie has to suck it up and we’re free and clear.’ Lachlan sat down too now.
