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‘You came. I did not think you would be able to get away.’
Nash’s voice made her start, even though it was warm in greeting. He looked especially handsome with the sun turning his hair to gold, dimples on his cheeks from his broad smile and grey eyes bright with delight. Indeed, any woman looking upon that face would be smitten with its beauty.
Orla swallowed hard and found her voice. ‘My husband has gone to Inverness for the day, but he will be back by nightfall, and he must not know I have ridden out. I cannot tarry.’
‘Of course. I am sure Munro will punish you most severely for defying him. He demands utter obedience, does he not?’ Nash dismounted and held out a hand to help her do the same.
‘It is not that, Nash. He fears for my safety with marauding redcoats.’
‘I hope you do not count me among their ranks. You are quite safe in my company and have my protection always. I only wish I could protect you from that brute you are shackled to.’
‘Do not speak of him like that, Nash.’
‘Your loyalty does you credit, Orla, not that the wretch deserves any. As to the talk of redcoats, that is all rumour and tittle-tattle. Major Sutherland demands strict discipline in the ranks, and any soldier mistreating women in such a way would be flogged or hanged. Military justice is swift and merciless.’
‘Even for the common folk who plead a grievance?’
‘Of course. These Highlands are a lawless place, and we are here to impose order on both commoners and high-born alike.’
‘Along with the English King’s taxes? You impose those too, don’t you?’
Nash raised his eyebrows. ‘Spoken like a true rebel. Do not be infected by your husband’s rancour, Orla. These are Wolfric Munro’s words coming out of your mouth, not your own, and they amount to insurrection. This union with England will stand, and everyone, English, Scots, will prosper under it.’
‘So Scotland is to succumb to a forced marriage, just as I have?’
‘Ah, you are a clever woman, Orla, but what little you know of politics and life. You have been sheltered by your father, and now you are kept from the truth by your scheming husband.’
‘So you think that, like all women, I have a brain the size of a pea and must follow meekly what this man, or that, tells me. I know my own mind, Nash. And there is truth in what Wolfric says. And I do not see the common people being protected, nor much discipline amongst your ranks. I see the soldiers lounging about Inverness, in the market square, eyeing women as they pass, calling out, grabbing.’
Nash looked away from her, staring down the glen. A vein pulsed in his temple. ‘Orla, please. I value your company. So let us not quarrel.’
‘I cannot come again, Nash.’ There, she had said it.
His face darkened, and his eyes speared hers. ‘Why? Did that lout threaten you?’
‘I cannot come because it is wrong and deceitful to carry on a friendship with a redcoat.’
He grabbed her hands. ‘But are we not more than friends?’
‘Don’t Nash. I am wed.’
‘Unhappily so.’
‘That was once the case, but Wolfric and I are becoming used to each other. There is affection between us.’
Nash’s face twisted in disgust. ‘How can there be? He is nought but an ignorant oaf, little better than a beast of the field. Orla, he uses you to get an heir and make a grab for land. You said this yourself. How can you even bear to have his filthy hands on you?’
‘People can change. First impressions can be wrong. And Wolfric is indeed a little rough about his edges, but then so am I. Look at me, Nash. I am no elegant lady, fit for drawing rooms and balls and polite chit-chat. Wolfric and I suit each other more than I could see at first. And he is clever and kind and protects me, in his own gruff way, and his tenants too. He cares for his clan and his people.’
‘His clan. Oh, it is all about clans in the Highlands.’ Nash’s lip curled. ‘You must put your clan before your own wishes, marry to benefit your clan, fight to the death for your clan. I curse Clan Munro for taking you prisoner, Orla. I curse it.’
Orla tried to free her hands, but Nash’s grip was too tight. ‘Do not say that. I am a Scot, and loyalty to my clan is bred into me.’
‘Not to Clan Munro. Not to a forced marriage.’
‘Aye, Clan Munro deserves my loyalty, and as to my marriage, I have found happiness in it these last weeks. I am reconciled to it.’
‘Reconciled? What a frail word to substitute for love and passion. Do you not have any regard for me, Orla? Have our two lonely souls not connected these last weeks?’
