"Christ, she's long-winded," said Alex impatiently, wanting to find out what the news was that had made Anne so happy and Beth so desperate. He scanned a few lines. "The whole family are as happy as Anne by whatever it is, and Charlotte's beside herself, brainless wee lassie." He frowned, and carried on reading.
I wanted to write to you before, but Lord Edward and Richard advised me to wait, as we had so little time beforehand, and I really do not think I would have been capable of holding a pen at all until now, when the deed is done, and I am safely, and most happily … married!
"Bloody hell!" said Alex.
"Married?" said Angus. "Is she no' the lassie whose husband just died?"
"Aye. What's she thinking of? She's no' even out of mourning yet."
And there, that is my wonderful news, and I know you will be shocked, but I hope the shock will be lessened, when I tell you who has made me the happiest of women. Of course, I am sure you have already guessed, and will welcome me into your family as your cousins already have, with open arms.
"Has she married Lord Edward, then?" said Duncan.
Alex ignored him, continued reading, then scrubbed his hand through his hair as he came to the words which had prompted Beth's reaction.
"No," he said. "She hasna married Lord Edward. She's married Richard." He skimmed through the rest of the sheet silently, then stood. "I'll go to her," he said, and left, taking the letter with him.
"It's my fault," Beth said as soon as she heard him open the door. She was standing by the window, looking out over the garden to the fields beyond, and seeing nothing. He came to her, put his hand on her shoulder.
"No," he said. "It isna your fault."
"It is," she insisted. "I should have paid for his captain's commission. If he hadn't needed the money for that he would never have thought of marrying Anne. I'll never forgive myself."
"How do you know he hadna thought of it already? He's very ambitious."
"Because if he had he would never have humbled himself by coming to me to beg for money," Beth said. "No, he's done this because I wouldn't buy his commission. And he's done it quickly, while they were away, partly because of that, and partly because he knew I'd have stopped it if I'd known what he was up to."
"You couldna have stopped it," Alex pointed out quietly. "They're both of full age, Beth."
"I would have," she replied firmly. "I'd have told her what he is, what he's done. That would have made her think twice. God, how could she be so stupid? He's horrible!"
Alex turned her gently to face him.
"No, he isna, Beth. He's quite attractive, and he's learned a lot about social behaviour in the last two years. He's a lot more polished now."
"Attractive!" she cried. "How can you say that? He's ugly, and evil, and … and bow-legged!"
Alex laughed.
"Aye, I'll give you bow-legged. But he's no' ugly, Beth. You just see him that way because ye dinna like him."
"What did the will say?" she said suddenly, urgently. "You went to the reading with Anne. Will Richard become Lord Redburn now?"
"No. It's a hereditary title. It'll pass to Anne's baby if it's a boy, along with everything else, although Anne will have a generous allowance, and will be allowed to live in his London house and on one of his country estates until she dies, when they'll revert to her son."
"And if it's a girl?" Beth asked.
"If it's a girl, then Anne gets everything except a big dowry and a property in Sussex which will be held in trust until the girl marries or comes of age. Beth, I canna … "
"And if the child dies?" Beth persisted.
"Then Anne gets the lot. The title will be defunct, because there are no male relatives living."
"Was there any provision made in case she married again?"
"No," Alex said. "I dinna think Redburn expected her to marry again. He loved her, and thought she loved him enough to never consider another man."
"She did love him," said Beth. "Have you read the letter? She was coerced into marrying Richard. He managed to convince her that she needed looking after and the child needed a father, and that he would be the ideal choice."
"Aye, but we discussed the possibility of this, Beth, if you remember. We knew she was vulnerable."
"I know, but I thought she'd refuse all offers until she was at least out of mourning!" said Beth. "I know what's happened," she continued angrily. "The whole family have worn her down. It'll be to Edward's advantage to have so much money in the family, and all his sisters think it's impossible for any woman to live without a man to guide their every move. She has no idea what she's done, what she's married. He's evil, Alex. What can we do?" She looked up at him, her eyes pleading with him to find a solution.
"Accept it," he said. "There's nothing we can do. Maybe it'll all work out better than ye think. Maybe he's changed."
"No," she said, shaking her head. "He hasn't changed. He's always been bad, even when he was a child. He'll hurt her, Alex, and God help her and the child if it's a boy."
"Oh come on, Beth," said Alex. "As badly as ye think of him, surely ye dinna think he'd harm a wee bairn?"
"I don't know what he'd do. He beat John, repeatedly, and drove Martha from the house. He didn't care what happened to her child."
"Aye, but there's a big difference between beating and dismissing servants, who were probably sullen at best and defiant at worst, from what ye've tellt me, and hurting your wife and innocent stepchild," Alex reasoned.
"He hit me, too!" Beth cried, getting angry in spite of his reasonable tone. "And left me in the barn for Graeme to find. That's hardly the action of a caring brother!"
"No, it isna. But ye tellt me yourself, you'd just thrown a knife at him and called him a coward. I might have hit ye myself, if I'd been him." He smiled down at her, and her eyes softened.
"No, you wouldn't," she said, putting her arms round him. "You'd have taken the knife off me before I could have thrown it, and dragged me off to bed." She froze momentarily, then continued speaking quickly before he could ask her what had crossed her mind. She couldn't tell him that, even if it would prove how reasonable her fears for Anne were. "You don't know him," she finished lamely.
"Maybe not," Alex admitted. "But I ken the woman he's married, and I hardly think she's likely to provoke him like you did. Even if the child is a boy, Richard'll still be wealthy. He'll get his captaincy and any other rank his commanding officer is daft enough to gie him, and he'll be able to entertain his officer friends to his heart's content. And Anne'll be happy to indulge his every whim and look after him and the child. She'll no' gie him reason to hit her, and if he's feeling vicious he'll be able to bully his men instead. It could all work out better than ye think, Beth. Let's look on the bright side."
He didn't add because there's nothing else we can do, anyway, but they both thought it.
"You're right," she said. "I'll look on the bright side. But while I'm looking on it, I'll keep an eye on her. When are they coming back to London?"
He looked at the letter, which had become a bit crumpled during their embrace.
"In two weeks. Less than one week, now," he said, because the letter had taken three days to arrive, and had lain neglected for another week.
"I think we'll throw a dinner for them," Beth said. "To welcome them back. That'll please Anne and annoy Richard, because he'll be expecting me to be angry and to ignore them. And it'll give me a chance to see if she's as happy as she says she is. Now, let's change the subject. What did Murray's letter say?"
* * *
Murray's letter said that he had received Alex's and had included the information in a packet he'd already prepared, signed by himself and many of the chiefs, stating that they were of the unanimous opinion that no rebellion was possible without French support. He had given this to the Earl of Traquair, who promised to forward it to the prince straight away and who intended to go to France himself soon in any case. All that remained to be done was to continue gathering information where possible and to wait for Charles' response. Because there was nothing more they could do to influence Charles, Beth was not thinking about that as she entered Sarah's shop, having turned her attention to more domestic problems.
She had paid a visit to Caroline and Edwin, although she had rightly assumed that Anne would also have written to them with her news. She had, but with the consideration that was one of her most endearing features, she'd posted the letter to Caroline two days after Beth's so that her ‘dear sister' would receive the news before anyone else. The Harlows were of the same general opinion as Alex; it was a shock, but there was nothing anyone could do but hope all would turn out well. But then they didn't know Richard either. No one did. And she couldn't tell anyone. It was a lonely feeling, but she had been lonely before and had learnt to cope with it.