CHAPTER 30

CHAPTER 29

Edward was not at the castle when Van returned. Morag told her that he had received a message that the food they had sent to the Loch Arkaig area had been confiscated by government troops who were in the area to search for the prince. Edward had taken Alan Ruadh and gone to see what could be done to get the supplies back.

Van was relieved she did not have to face him so soon after seeing the prince and Niall, but felt doubly guilty knowing he was out on a mission of mercy.

He did not come home that night. Van put together a package of more food and a collection of her father's shirts and kilts to send out to the cave with Lachlan. On the theory that the fewer who knew about the cave the better, Lachlan was to be their only messenger. He had fought bravely at Culloden and was devoted to Niall. Lachlan was safe.

Van did not see Edward until almost eight o'clock the following evening. She was sitting alone in the great drawing room, a book she was not reading in her hands, when the door opened and he came in.

His boots were dirty and his cheek was scratched. "Dhé, Edward!" Van said, her book dropping unregarded into her lap. "I was beginning to worry about you."

He did not kiss her but came to drop wearily into the big chair that used to be her father's. "Christ," he said, "my feet." He stretched his long legs out in front of him and looked at her. "A horse. A horse. My kingdom for a horse," he quoted humorously.

He looked so long and large, stretched out there in her father's chair. "Morag said you went to Loch Arkaig?" she asked tentatively.

"Yes." He smiled at her, the slow, deliberate lazy smile that she had come to know meant he wanted something. "I'm starving, sweetheart," he said. "Alan and I have had nothing to eat all day but a little oatmeal."

Van jumped to her feet. "I'll order you some meat and bread," she said, and went to pull the bell rope.

Morag appeared almost instantly with a large tray laden with food. She set it on the table before the empty fireplace and Edward said, "I think we could have a little fire too, Morag." Van watched with secret amusement as Morag moved to pile the wood expertly onto the hearth. The clan MacIan, she thought, with centuries of distrust of the Sassenach bred into their bones, had all fallen neatly under Edward's spell.

Van watched him eat while she sipped a cup of tea. Finally, when he had finished, he poured himself another glass of wine and said, "There were about five hundred troops at Loch Arkaig looking for the prince. It was thought that he might have tried to join Lochiel."

Van spoke out of a constricted throat. "Is Lochiel at Loch Arkaig?"

"I don't know. Possibly. At any rate, the country is being closely searched."

"And the food?"

Edward put his wineglass down so hard that a little of the deep red claret splashed onto the polished wood. He stared at the fire and appeared not to notice. "The food that had not yet been distributed was in Ewen Cameron's cottage near to Achnacarry—or the remains of Achnacarry. The soldiers confiscated it, which was why Ewen sent for me."

"And did you get it back?" Van asked.

"Yes."

Van deduced, from the set of his mouth, that his encounter with the military had not been pleasant. "What happened, Edward?"

He shrugged and did not meet her eyes. "The captain was a bloody little sod," he said. "Kept quoting his orders to me." His eyes finally swung around to her face. They were a brilliant blue. "I'll tell you this, Van," he said softly but with contained violence, "I was not proud to be an Englishman this day." Then he pushed back his chair and went to stand by the chimneypiece, one hand on the mantel, looking down into the fire. "At any rate," he continued, "the food has been restored and will continue to be distributed." There was a long pause. Then, "The Camerons have been hit very hard," he said.

"As the MacIans would have been were it not for you." Van stared at her husband's back, her heart filled with turmoil. He had done so much for them. The thought of the cave and its inhabitants scalded her with guilt, yet what else could she do? Edward had said there were five hundred troops in Lochiel's country. "Where else are the soldiers looking?" she asked. "Do you know?"

"There are patrols ail over the areas about Loch Quoich and Loch Eil, I believe," he replied. "They have information that the prince came ashore at Mallaig, so that is the area they are searching most carefully." He was still staring into the fire. "Van, if Niall is taken with the prince, there will be little I can do."

And that is precisely why I am hiding him from you, Van thought a little hysterically. She bit her lip and said with forced calm, "I understand that, Edward," She got up and went over to him by the fire. Putting her arms around his waist, she laid her cheek against his back and murmured, "If you've finished your wine, let's go upstairs."

As she watched him undress in front of the small bedroom fire, she asked, "How did you scratch your cheek?"

"A branch caught me." He grinned at her. "Alan tells me I am becoming as good a mountaineer as a Highlander, though."

He stripped to the waist and Van looked at him, at the breadth of his chest and shoulders. His arms were tanned, and the V at his throat where he had taken to wearing his shirt open. His hair had bleached to the color of ripe wheat. He looked back at her, smiled, and stretched himself like a giant cat. "I will never grow accustomed to sleeping on the hard ground wrapped only in a plaid," he said. "That bed looks very good," He began to cross the floor. "And so do you."

"I doubt that Niall has seen a bed in months," she said before she could stop herself.

He halted as abruptly as if he had walked into glass. Then, "It is by his own choice, Van," he answered slowly. "My offer to get him away to France still holds good."

"But he will never go without the prince, Edward! Don't you see that?"

His eyes were steady on her face. "I see it. Perhaps I even understand it. But there is nothing I can do about it, Van. It is his choice. He will have to live with the consequences."

"Or die with them," she said bitterly.

He regarded her with courteous interest. "Are you by any chance asking me to help the prince to escape?" His voice was polite, curious, as if the question was of little importance to either of them. She did not answer but her eyes dropped, unable to look anymore at that carefully courteous face. "If it were at all possible, you know," he continued pleasantly, "I would kidnap Niall and forcibly send him to France. I am well aware that his shadow stands between us, and that it will continue to do so for as long as he remains in danger. But there are some things a man may not do—even for the woman he loves. I gave my word to the duke not to assist Charles Stuart to escape. I have many faults, Van, but betraying my word is not one of them."

Van wished she had never brought up this subject. The memory of her own promise to him was vivid in her mind. He would never forgive her if he found out what she had done. But he was right. The shadow of Niall stood between them. More than he knew. She felt possessed by a devastating hopelessness. She had been sitting on the edge of the bed and now she stood up and took a step toward him. "Oh, Edward," she said sorrowfully.

He caught her in his arms and she pressed against him, running her hands up and down the smooth broadness of his back. It was as if her hands had released a dark flood of hot passion in him; she felt it, felt it sear into her. Half-fainting, she let herself be lifted up in his arms and carried to the bed.

Niall and Charles remained at the cave for over a week. The area surrounding Morar was crawling with government troops and Van knew she could not even suggest that her two dangerous visitors should try to leave. Morar was for the moment the only safe refuge from the hunters.

Then, on July 16, ships appeared in Loch Morar. Van was working in the vegetable garden when Donal came running to tell her the news. "They are coming up the loch, Lady Van!" he cried. "Six of them. Big ships, my lady; very big."

Van put down her trowel. "Where is Lord Linton?" she asked.

"Up the glen looking at cattle, my lady."

"Get him, Donal," Van ordered. Donal took one look at her face and fled.

Dhé! Ships in Loch Morar! And Niall and the prince only a few miles away. They must be warned to stay in the cave. Van looked around. "Maire," she called to the girl who was working with her, "fetch me Lachlan. Immediately."

Maire ran and Van herself began to walk swiftly back to the castle, her heart thudding so hard it took her breath away. What could this mean? She entered the castle through a side door and went to her room to tidy up. If she had to confront English troops, at least she would do it looking like a lady.

She changed her dress and smoothed her hair and went to wait for Lachlan in Edward's office. "Thank God," she said as the slender, dark clansman came in the door. "Lachlan, go out to the cave and warn Mac mhic Iain to keep inside, that there are enemy ships in the loch. I will get more information to him when I can, but for now he is to remain inside!"

"Aye, my lady."

They would never see Lachlan from the water, Van thought as the clansman moved swiftly away. He was like a shadow, silent and stealthy and insubstantial. He would warn Niall.

Now that she had got the message safely off to Niall, she wanted Edward. Where was he? She went to the window half a dozen times and the last time the sight that met her eyes froze her blood. A great war ship was anchoring off the shore right in front of the castle. Van watched, petrified, as a boat was lowered and men were rowed to the shore.

Dhé! They were coming to the castle. Where in the name of God was Edward?

It was a white-faced Morag who brought her the news. "My lady, General Campbell would like to speak to you."

Van raised her chin. "I will go to the drawing room, Morag. You may show him up in five minutes."

"Aye, my lady," replied Morag, whose eyes were twice their usual size.

Van was sitting in her mother's chair, her back ramrod straight, her head high on its lovely long neck, when General Campbell came into the room. She saw his eyes go around the huge, beautiful drawing room before they came to rest on her. Van had chosen her setting quite deliberately. Let the Campbell see he was not dealing with ignorant peasants. She stared him straight in the eye and asked coolly, "And to what do we owe the honor of this visit, General?"

He crossed the floor toward her, over the Persian rugs, past the Titian portrait of one of her ancestors, and stopped before her chair. Van did not ask him to sit down.

"Lady Linton," he said, "I am quite sure you know our errand. We are in search of the pretender." . Van raised an elegant black eyebrow. "Well, he certainly is not here, General." She gestured gracefully about the room.

"I did not think he was in this castle, Lady Linton," Campbell replied a little shortly. "I do think, however, that he may be in Morar."

Van's cool eyes never wavered. "Morar's loyalty is pledged to the government by Lord Linton."

"I have no doubt of Lord Linton's loyalty, Lady Linton," the Campbell said, with the very faintest of stresses on the word "lord." "However, the pretender is thought to be in the company of your brother, and the MacIans will consider that their first loyalty is to Mac mhic Iain. Lord Morar and the pretender may well be hiding somewhere here in Morar without Lord Linton's knowledge."

Van concealed her hands within the folds of her dress so he should not see how they were shaking. "What—?" she was beginning when she heard the door open and Edward's bright head appeared around the fire screen at the door. Van closed her eyes briefly. Thank God.

"General Campbell," she heard her husband say pleasantly. "I see you have brought quite a company to visit us."

"My lord." John Campbell of Mamore took the hand Edward was extending and smiled back at the earl's suntanned, good-humored face.

"Sit down, man," Edward said, and General Campbell, with a quick glance at the silent Van, complied. Morag came in with wine and glasses on a tray and Edward poured a glass for himself and for the general. Van declined. She would have liked the wine but was afraid her hand was shaking too much to hold the glass.

"I was just telling Lady Linton that we think the pretender may be hiding in Morar," General Campbell said to Edward.

"Indeed?" Edward seemed perfectly relaxed and appeared to be taking no more than a polite interest in his visitor's words. "I am over the estate all the time, General, and I can assure you that I have seen no sign of the pretender."

"I do not doubt you," Campbell returned a little grimly. "But he is thought to be with Niall MacIan, my lord. You have been in the Highlands long enough, I think, to know the loyalty a clan feels to its chief. They would shelter him and never "tell you of it."

"That may well be so." Edward seemed completely unperturbed as he sipped his wine. "You have had no luck elsewhere?"

"None. The surrounding area has all been thoroughly searched. There is a cordon of troops around Morar, my lord, and we do not think he has gotten through. Captain Scott is in the lower part of Arisaig. I have six men-of-war in the loch here, all with troops aboard. If the pretender is indeed in Morar, we will find him."

Van felt cold. Icy cold. Her husband was regarding General Campbell with perfect serenity. "If you feel the pretender is in Morar, then of course you must look for him. But"—the merest hint of steel appeared in that pleasant voice—"I do not want to hear of one cottage burned or one man, woman, or child hurt on my property. I hope I make myself clear, General Campbell."

"Perfectly clear, my lord." The Campbell rose to his feet. "I shall be sure your message is given to all the proper authorities."

"One thing more." Edward was on his feet as well. "If my brother-in-law should ever come into your hands, I should be grateful if you would inform me immediately."

Campbell looked once more, swiftly, at Van's silent figure. Then, "Of course, my lord," he said.

Edward walked with the general to the door and Van sat as if frozen, her brain working furiously. Niall and the prince must get away from Morar. The search here would be too concentrated. They must get away.

She forced herself to look calmly at her husband as he came back across the room toward her. "Campbell of Mamore is a decent sort," he said. "If he is in charge, there will be no plundering."

"Van forced a laugh. "I never thought I'd see the day I'd be grateful to a Campbell."

"Van." He was leaning against the chimneypiece and staring at his linked hands, a thoughtful frown on his face. "Van," he said again, "Campbell isn't going to find anything in Morar, is he?" And he raised his eyes and looked at her.

Her face was pale under its tan, but the gray-green eyes that met his were clear and truthful. "Not that I know of, Edward," she answered steadily.

Satisfied, he dropped his hands and nodded. "If they find Niall," he said, "we may be able to free him before they get him to Fort Augustus."

She was now very pale. "Do you think so?" she asked hollowly.

He poured a glass of wine and went to her side. "Drink this, sweetheart. Try not to worry so. If it is at all possible, I'll save Niall's skin for him. I promise you that."

Van sipped the wine and felt her stomach heave. I will not be sick, she said to herself fiercely. I will not be sick. She gave the wine back to Edward, looked up into his concerned eyes, and wanted to cry.

That night Van sent two messages, one with Lachlan to the cave and one with Donal to Donald Cameron of Glen Pean. Niall and Charles read Van's letter by the light of a burning stick; they were afraid to light a fire for cooking lest it be seen.

"Campbell is in Loch Morar and Captain Scott is in Arisaig," Niall read out loud. "There are camps and sentries posted all over the hills from the head of Loch Eil to the top of Loch Hourn." Niall looked at the prince. "Van says our best chance is to go southeast, to Sgurr nan Coireachan, and from there to try to break through north. She has sent a message to Donald Cameron of Glen Pean to meet us at Sgurr nan Coireachan tomorrow night. He will guide us from there."

"Where is Sgurr nan Coireachan?" Charles asked.

"That great hill you can see from here, sir," Niall replied. "It marks the border between the Camerons' country and ours."

Charles nodded and gave Niall a rueful grin. "It was too peaceful here to be true, MacIan. It looks as if we must be on our travels again."

"Aye, sir, that it does," Niall replied with an answering smile. "And we'd best be gone before daybreak."

"Give my thanks to your mistress," the prince said to Lachlan. "Tell her her prince shall never forget her loyalty or her courage."

Lachlan nodded, bowed his head, and melted away in the darkness. Half an hour later, Niall and Charles were on their way as well.