Chapter Nineteen

Calla stared at the missive in her trembling hands, unable to believe it was from that knave Claybourne.

My dear Lady Stanbury:

I hope this letter finds you and your son in fine health. As you know, I'm owed a great deal of money from your husband's estate, and now your son's. I hope you will reconsider my offer. You but need work here at Bonnyridge for two weeks in order to pay off the debt. Failure to keep your end of the bargain will result in your son being exposed as the fraud he is. I have spoken at length with Daniel Kerns and his wife. You will remember they used to be in your employ. The information they have given me was quite shocking and I'm certain the members of parliament will be most interested to hear what I've learned. If you wish me to keep your secret and want your son to keep his title and estate, you must come to Bonnyridge with all haste. I will also sweeten the deal and return the Cramby Estate to you. Your husband told me it was your dower property when he wagered it. Do not breathe a word of this to your friends. If anyone shows up at my gates other than you, or if I am attacked or killed, the missives will be sent from elsewhere to the proper authorities.

Kindest Regards,

Claybourne

"Oh dear God," Calla breathed. Claybourne had talked to the Kerns? They had always been loyal to her. Why would they do this? She'd thought her maid, Betty Kerns, would've never given up her secret. Seducing a stranger had been Betty's idea. Surely, her maid had been trying to help at the time, since she knew the earl had threatened her life. The woman had sworn she would never tell a soul.

Her husband, Daniel, had acted as guard that night in Stirling and protected her. He'd also vowed he would tell no one. How could they betray her? Didn't they know this would ruin her life as well as her son's? Claybourne must have offered them a large sum of money. She closed her eyes. They must have been in desperate need. She hadn't wanted to let them go from their positions, but she'd had no other choice. In truth, she couldn't blame them. They were doing what they had to in order to survive, the same as she'd always done.

Calla knew what Claybourne would demand as payment. Good Lord, she could not endure it, especially now that she'd fallen so deeply in love with Rebbie and shared some amazing nights and days with him.

What other choice did she have? She would have to allow Claybourne to use her body for two weeks. She cringed with revulsion. Would it be enough for him, or would he demand more?

She was tempted to kill him, but obviously he had set up his scheme to protect himself from that. Even if she succeeded in killing him, her secret would be revealed. Besides, she was not a murderer. Nor could she get away with such a deed, considering how many men worked for Claybourne.

Though she grew nauseous at the very thought, she would have to go to him. She had endured Stanbury's attentions for the first two years of their marriage. After she was with child, he hadn't touched her again. If she could tolerate that, she could bear anything. Besides, she would do whatever it took to preserve her son's future and reputation.

Claybourne had also mentioned the Cramby Estate. 'Twas a small working estate she'd inherited from her mother where she and Jamie could live without depending on others for handouts. Of a certainty, 'twas something she wanted. She wouldn't have to take a position as a companion or governess.

She could depend on no one else to help her with this. Rebbie had left and, considering how angry he was with her, he would not wish to assist her. She trusted her new friend, Angelique, but she could not ask for her or her husband's assistance in this. Besides, there was naught they could do to stop Claybourne in his quest. Even if they loaned her the money to pay off the massive debt, Claybourne would not be satisfied. He would still want her in his bed and threaten her with exposure if she didn't comply. She knew all too well how vile and vindictive he was. She was out of options.

***

"I cannot believe you are leaving already," Angelique told Calla the next morn in the great hall.

"I'm sorry. I wish I could stay longer, but I have a new job offer. 'Twas what the missive was about. And I must appear immediately." Calla's chest ached with the lie she had to tell her friend.

Angelique frowned. "What job? Where?"

"As a… um… governess, in Angus. I'll write to you when I'm settled in."

"But Jamie only arrived yesterday," Angelique said.

"Aye, I'll have to take him back to his guardian."

"I am certain Rebbie will return today," Angelique whispered.

"It won't matter. He'll never forgive me for what I've done, and I don't blame him."

" Oui , he will. I will talk to him and convince him to see reason."

Calla shook her head. "I thank you, but nay."

Lachlan approached, placed a hand upon his wife's shoulder and frowned at Calla. "M'lady, you're surely not leaving with the Barclays."

"Aye. Indeed, I am. They've been kind enough to allow us to travel in the second coach with the servants."

"Rebbie will have my head if I allow you to leave and put yourself in such danger."

Though Calla didn't argue, she knew the truth—that Rebbie no longer cared or wanted to have anything to do with her. "Barclay has many guards to protect us as we're traveling to Glenhaven Castle. After that, I'll ask the earl to allow me to borrow several of his guards to escort me to Angus and my new position." How Calla hated lying. Her chest ached with guilt.

Lachlan's fearsome frown didn't diminish. "I'm sending ten guards to make certain you both make it inside the walls of the Glenhaven Estate."

"I thank you, my laird, but 'tis not necessary."

Lachlan shook his head. " 'Tis what Rebbie would want me to do. And promise me you will not leave Glenhaven without heavy guard. Mayhap my men should stay there to escort you to Angus."

"Nay, I plan to stay at Glenhaven overnight, then leave for Angus in the morn."

"I don't like it," Lachlan grumbled. "' Twould be best if you stay here until Rebbie returns."

"I'm sorry, but I cannot do that," Calla said firmly. "I thank you for your friendship and hospitality these last few weeks," she told them both.

"Lachlan and I will loan you the money to pay the debt," Angelique whispered.

"Indeed, we will," Lachlan said.

"Nay, of course not. I could never borrow such an amount. I won't take any charity from friends. The position I'm accepting pays very well and I should have the debt paid off in a short time." A fortnight, if Claybourne kept his word.

Calla embraced Angelique goodbye in the courtyard while Lachlan went about instructing ten of his guards to accompany Barclay's party and provide extra protection to Calla and Jamie.

Although Barclay didn't relish Calla traveling with them through Perth, he allowed them to ride in the second-rate servants' coach. Even the maids were reluctant to look Calla in the eye after the shocking thing she'd done, stealing Lady Elena's betrothed away. At least that was the rumor. Since she didn't have Rebbie, how could she have stolen him away?

Jamie, sitting upon her lap, was her only comfort and warmth, and she relished it, for she would not get to see him for at least two weeks. Though Claybourne hovered about in her head like a grim raven, she tried to put him from her mind and focus on how much she loved Jamie. She also tried not to think of Rebbie and how much she'd hurt and disappointed him. That crushed look on his face when he'd left the room… she would never forget it. How could she have wounded the only man she'd ever loved, and the only man who had ever treated her with respect and love? That had never been her intention.

When she had first gone looking for a stranger with dark hair and dark eyes, she hadn't considered what he might think of the whole situation. She had simply been blinded by desperation. 'Twas what happened when your life was threatened. She had to bear a child; that was all that mattered. Either that or be tossed from the window. If she'd reported her husband's threat to anyone, no one would've believed her. Stanbury had been an earl, for heaven's sake, and no one would've dared question him.

What she hadn't realized at the time was that Rebbie was also an earl and a powerful man. Once she'd learned this, she'd known he could easily ruin her and Jamie. She hadn't known whether to trust him or not. After they'd become intimate, it became easier to keep her secret than to reveal all to him. She hadn't wanted him to hate her. But now he did. Tears burned her eyes.

Those days at Tummel Castle had been idyllic and near perfect. The only thing that could've made them better was if Jamie had been there, too. But remembering and dreaming was of no use. Life was harsh and unforgiving. Even though she'd grown up in privilege, with all the food and clothing she'd wanted, the things she craved most of all—love, warmth, happiness—were the scarcest.

After riding in tense silence for what seemed like forever, the coach stopped before Glenhaven's gates. One of the coachmen opened the door and helped her, Jamie, and Morna out. The other coachman untied her small trunk from the roof and deposited it on the ground.

"M'lady." They tipped their hats and drove on.

She dragged her trunk of clothes across the cobblestones and toward the gates. One of Glenhaven's guards was kind enough to help her with it, carrying it through the gates.

"I thank you."

Once the gates closed behind them, she waved to Lachlan's guards, hoping they knew how much she appreciated them looking out for her and Jamie. A couple of them returned the friendly gesture, then they rode back the way they'd come.

After asking the guards to hold her trunk in the guard house until she picked it up later, she took Jamie's hand and started up the long drive to Glenhaven Castle, the nursemaid trailing behind them, carrying Jamie's small satchel of clothes.

Drawing in a deep breath of the fresh, cool air, she tried to fix the moment in her mind as one of the most pleasant she would experience for the next two weeks. The morning sun speared brightly through the leafy trees and glimmered off the dew-covered grass. Best of all, she was with Jamie. She wanted to pick him up and hug him so tightly, but he might think her mad if she did that just now.

"Oh, Morna ." Calla paused and turned to the nursemaid. "I want to ask a favor."

"Of course, m'lady."

"Wait here, Jamie, until I talk to Morna ." She drew the nursemaid ten feet away, then pulled a sealed missive from the hidden pocket in her bodice. She'd scribed it the night before. 'Twas her only guarantee that Claybourne would keep his word. "If I don't return here to the castle by the last day of the month, have Glenhaven send this missive to Laird and Lady Draughon ," she whispered.

"Very well." Morna nodded, her sincere brown gaze held Calla's. The nursemaid was one of the few people Calla trusted.

"Tell no one you have it. 'Tis to remain our secret, unless you have to send it. Once I return, you can give it back to me." The missive revealed where Calla would be, and if Claybourne kept her beyond a fortnight, hopefully Angelique would send Lachlan and his men to rescue her.

"Aye."

"I thank you." Calla was glad Morna didn't question the instructions. She had always been loyal to a fault and meticulous in her duties.

Calla took Jamie's hand and they continued up the drive.

"I didn't want to come back here," Jamie muttered, stamping his feet on the wet cobblestones.

"Why not?" Calla asked. "I thought you liked it here."

"I wanted to stay with you. And my new friends."

"I know, my love. I wanted to keep you with me, too. But I must work to pay your father's debt. He did not save any money for us."

"That was mean that he spent all the money."

Indeed it was, but Calla refrained from disparaging the man Jamie believed was his father. She didn't want her son to think she was a bitter woman.

"Rebbie promised me a ride on Devil." Jamie peered up at her with those dark, pleading eyes so like Rebbie's , he near broke her heart.

"I know, sweeting."

"I didn't even get to say goodbye to him." Jamie kicked a small rock lying on the drive and sent it flying.

"I'm sorry." Her own goodbye to him was too excruciating to remember.

"Do you think he will come visit me?"

She shook her head, her throat tightening. "I don't think so." She should not be surprised that Jamie had taken an instant liking to Rebbie. They had the same blood running through their veins, after all.

"But he was kind and funny… and I thought he liked me."

Calla's eyes burned. "He does like you, my darling. But he is a very busy man."

"When will you come to see me again?"

"In a little over a fortnight." If Claybourne kept his word and released her from his "employ" by then. Nay, do not think of it. She must enjoy Jamie's company as long as possible before she had to leave him and endure hell on earth.

After speaking to Glenhaven and his wife about her fabricated "new employment in Angus" she knelt and hugged Jamie tightly to her, then placed kisses all over his face.

"I will be back before you know it," she promised, though she remembered how slowly time crawled by for children and he would no doubt be miserable for days. She knew he could endure it; he was a strong lad.

After walking to the nearby Glenhaven Village and feeling more alone than she had in her life, Calla used what little money she possessed to hire a coach to pick up her trunk at the gate house and take her to Bonnyridge , some three miles away. If indeed Claybourne would clear her of the debt, not reveal her secret about Jamie, and return her dower property to her, any torture she might endure at his hand would be worth it. Of course, he was a criminal and completely untrustworthy.

***

The evening before, Rebbie had ridden Devil north as if the hounds of hell snapped at his heels. He'd arrived at the castle ruin just as darkness descended upon the land.

He'd been dog-tired, all the pent up rage having evaporated with each mile that passed. As he'd lain on the dirt floor of the ruin's kitchen last night, the only way to stop the thoughts spinning through his head was to drink more whisky. Once it was gone, he'd slept, not caring if the wolves discovered him. Devil would wake him, he knew, and he had two loaded pistols.

The next morn, he awoke to a splitting headache. He forced himself to stumble out to the stream.

Dropping to his knees, he washed his face in the icy water, dunked his whole head in, then arose and flung his hair back. 'Twas a shock to his system that brought him fully awake.

Ears perked, Devil eyed him, then nickered and went back to picking grass. "I ken you think I'm daft," he muttered to the horse. Aye, he was. Because of Calla.

Damnation, she had gored the hell out of his heart yesterday.

He hadn't even known he could feel love. And then, she'd said she loved him, too. But how could that be true if she wouldn't even tell him he had a son?

She had used him, pure and simple, in the most basic way possible. Not for mutual pleasure, but to steal his seed and have a child to give to her bastard of an impotent husband.

When he thought of Jamie, his face a wee replica of Rebbie's own, he could hardly endure it. He'd never imagined what it might be like to have a son, but now that he was faced with that fact, had talked to the lad, 'twas a shock to realize he loved the lad already. No questions asked. Blood of his blood. He loved him, wanted to tell the world, this is my son!

But nay, he could never do that. To do so would label the lad a bastard and he would lose his status despite being an earl's son. He could never inherit the Rebbinglen title, nor any of the other titles he or his father held.

Rebbie couldn't expose him. Nor could he do it to Calla.

He remembered what she'd said, that whoreson Stanbury had threatened to toss her out the high window if she didn't provide him an heir. If the man were alive, Rebbie would call him out to a duel and kill him.

Calla was an angel… or a demon. He wasn't sure which. When he imagined her face, his chest ached. He couldn't even breathe. What had she done to him? Bewitched him. He'd fallen for her hard, even from that first night he'd tasted her lips.

He wanted to crush her to him, even should she decide to stab him in the back at the same time. She drove him mad with the need to have her. When her silvery-gray eyes darkened, begging him without words, he could not deny her. In those moments, he yearned to devour her, starting with her delectable mouth and moving down her curvy body.

Despite the lust which consumed him anytime he saw her, there was so much more. The way she'd kissed and cuddled Jamie… 'twas obvious she would do anything for the lad and that she loved him beyond anything.

She'd done an excellent job with him. Clearly, she was a good mother who'd been much involved in raising the lad. Not like some aristocratic ladies who put the total care of their children into the hands of servants.

And a more beautiful woman he had never seen. He could stare at her for a lifetime and never grow tired of the view.

Almost seven years ago, after their night of passion, he'd searched for her. Why? Something about her was unforgettable. She was stuck in his head for weeks or months afterward. He'd had to give in and force himself to forget about her. Well, not fully forget. He had dreamed of her a few times over the years. He'd wake and wonder what town she might be in, who she was. But he'd finally accepted he would never see her again.

Now, she needed protection and he wanted to provide it, despite her deceptions. Her betrayal still smarted and burned. He understood why she'd done it—to save herself. He was glad he'd been able to keep her safe from her rotten husband by getting her with child.

He could even halfway understand why she hadn't told him about Jamie being his son. She wanted to guard his future at all costs. What with the way Rebbie's father had glared at her, she'd feared the worst from him if he'd learned her secret. Certainly, his father could ruin both her and Jamie if he chose to, but Rebbie didn't think he would. Within the last few days, he'd seemed to accept that Rebbie wasn't giving up Calla, and he'd shown Rebbie his support as never before.

Once Rebbie paid off Stanbury's debt, and made certain Claybourne stopped his pursuit of her…. Rebbie shook his head. What then?

Did he want to marry her? Could he trust her? The very thought of marriage near made his heart leap from his chest. What if he made a mistake? What if she wasn't the one?

Och , but everything in him said she was. She was under his skin… in his head. The nights they'd spent together were some of the best of his life. He'd savored them as slices of heaven. She had smiled, laughed, cried out in pleasure and completely spellbound him. The taste of her lips, the scent of her skin—he craved it so intensely, he ached.

'Twas time to go back and hash things out. After saddling Devil, he mounted and rode south.

***

The hired coach delivered Calla to the entry of Bonnyridge , a new and very grand manor house. How she hated the depraved bastard who owned it. He was the complete opposite of the lovely, peaceful gardens surrounding the house.

Her stomach paining with anxiety, she stepped down from the coach. The driver placed her small trunk on the ground near the door then drove off. Two guards in matching black livery stood outside the door. They bowed and murmured, "Lady Stanbury," as if expecting her. Feeling like a mouse about to step into the jaws of a cat, she frowned.

One of them lifted the ornate knocker and let it fall while the other hefted her trunk onto his shoulder. Seconds later, an austerely dressed manservant opened the door.

"My lady, please come in. Laird Claybourne is expecting you."

She did as he asked. After he bowed, his disapproving gaze slid down her body and back up. He sniffed. "Wait here, if you please."

The guard deposited her trunk near the stairway, then hastened out the door and closed it behind him.

Oh dear God, please help me survive this , she prayed.

The chilly and elegant three story entry hall made her feel ill. Her late husband's money had paid for part of this. She was now a pauper because of Claybourne's greed and Stanbury's ignorance. Even the property Calla's mother had left her was now a part of Claybourne's collection of treasures, but she intended to get it back.

Her stomach growled and she realized she hadn't eaten since breakfast early that morn at Draughon . 'Twas probably for the best, given how queasy her stomach was with nerves.

Footsteps approached, echoing from the marble floor to the high plaster ceiling, and then Claybourne's tall, thin frame and horse-like face appeared. "My dear Lady Stanbury. So nice to see you." His lustful gaze crept down her body and up again, lingering on her breasts. "May I call you Calla?"

Her stomach turned. "Nay. I want a signed contract from you. And the deed for Cramby ."

His thin brown brows shot up. "What sort of signed contract?"

"Detailing what you've promised me if I keep my end of the bargain."

"I see." He flashed a wide, unnerving grin. "So, you've come to pay the debt." He placed his hands together, just shy of rubbing them together eagerly.

"If you do all you promised in the missive."

"Of course. Would you care to step into my office?" He motioned toward an open doorway off to the side of the entry hall. She was shocked he hadn't already thrown her over his shoulder and carried her upstairs.

Once inside the office, he indicated a chair before the large oak desk. "Please make yourself comfortable. Can I offer you wine or something to drink?"

"Nay." She chose to remain standing, and would surely retch if she drank anything.

"Did you tell anyone you were coming here? Rebbinglen?"

The mere mention of Rebbie's name made her chest and throat ache. "Nay."

"Good." Smirking, Claybourne dropped into the chair behind the desk, pulled a clean sheet of parchment from a drawer and placed it before him. "Because if anything bad should happen to me, my steward will send missives, which I've already scribed and addressed, to several members of parliament, detailing everything I've learned about you and your son."

"You have no proof," she charged.

Claybourne shrugged. "I have two witnesses. 'Tis the only proof I need. Besides, with proof or without, the members of parliament would scrutinize you and your son intensely if they kenned of your secret, would they not? And what if the Kirk should learn of your shocking adultery?" He smirked. "' Twould not be pleasant to be shamed before the large congregation, now would it?"

The very thought of it made her break out into a cold sweat, but she couldn't let him know that. "I would like to speak to Betty Kerns."

"Nay, 'tis not possible," he said in a hard tone.

"Why? Did you kill her?"

"Of course not. I sent her and her husband to the Cramby Estate, temporarily, while you're working for me." He smiled. "The work is easy and the food is good." He watched her with unnerving interest. "I find out what people want, and I give it to them… providing they give me what I want."

Aye, but would he give her what she wanted when this was all done? "I told no one, but I've scribed a missive which will be sent to the Earl of Draughon after two weeks if you do not release me." She forced her voice to be stronger than she felt at the moment.

Claybourne's eyes narrowed on her for a long moment. Had she surprised him?

"You'd best hope the missive isn't sent too early or all of your nasty secrets will be revealed," he said.

"It won't be."

"Who did you entrust with this duty?"

"That is none of your concern." Did he honestly think she would reveal that? He was more senseless than she'd realized. "You ken what I want from this agreement. Spell it out in the contract."

He lifted a brow. "We are going to have some fun." His glee and lust were palpable within the high-ceilinged room. Her stomach ached and knotted, nausea pressing in upon her again.

You can endure it. You endured worse at the hands of Stanbury. At least she could tell herself that. She didn't yet know whether it was true or not. Claybourne might well be an unimaginable monster for all she knew.

"What was it I said in that missive?" he asked.

Though she'd burned the paper, she remembered every word. "You promised to keep my secret about my son, forget the debt Stanbury owed you, and give me back my dower property, Cramby , if I work for you for a fortnight. Fourteen days only."

"Ah, yes. I remember now." He grinned, dipped the quill into the ink and started writing. "By the way, I enjoy demanding women. Or should I say, I enjoy taming demanding women."

She glared at him. What would he do, beat her? "I'll have your oath that you will leave me and my son alone after these two weeks. And I want you to sign the Cramby Estate over to me now."

He smiled again, although this time it was calculating. "Of course."

Heaven help her. He was the devil incarnate.

"You'll have this contract to prove I shall keep my end of the bargain," he said.

Feeling truly sick now, she knew she should not be here. But what choice did she have?

The scratching sounds of his writing filled the silence and with each moment, dread closed around her throat, near suffocating her. This was what she had withered to, a whore for a wealthy merchant?