The Marriage Contract (Marriage #3) - Cathy Maxwell Page 0,62
I can help it. It is only the gunpowder. After it is delivered, I will not be involved.”
She stared at him as if he’d spoken gibberish. “You cannot turn your back on your friends. Deacon’s presence alone is enough to have you tried for treason. Aidan, you are involved. You’ve made your decision.”
He took a step back, the reality of his actions sinking in. He closed his eyes, wishing it could be another way and knowing he had no choice. “You’re right,” he said, breaking the silence. “I have sided with the rebels. There is no turning back.” He reached out rubbed the roan’s muzzle. “It must be in my blood.”
“No, a love of fairness is in your blood, Aidan. A belief in letting men live with respect for each other. You are the most revolutionary man I’ve ever met…and one of the most successful. I love you. I will always love you. I could love no other.”
It was on the tip of his tongue to ask her to stay again, but he knew she wouldn’t. “And I shall always love you, Anne…Burnett,” he added sadly.
She nodded, studying the floor. Aidan understood how she felt. For the first time, he had discovered his heart…and now, it was breaking.
“Well,” he said, more to end the silence. “I, uh, don’t think you should ride alone to London. Give me a few hours and I will have a hired chaise here.” It was hard to look at her. He ran his thumb over the curved handle of the shears. “You can give Hugh back his hunting sack. You can have the trunk in your room.”
“Thank you.”
There, it was resolved. But neither of them moved. So close to each other, and yet so far apart.
Someone pounded on the stable door. Aidan was about to wish them to the devil when Hugh’s voice shouted, “Tiebauld! Major Lambert’s men are riding up the road. There is a party of them, all on horseback.”
“What the bloody hell do they want now?” he demanded irritably.
She took hold of his arm, her expressive eyes wide with fright. “They’ve come for you, Aidan.”
“Or Deacon.”
“No. It’s you they want. I can feel it.” She pulled him toward the saddle room, where there was a door leading to the outside. “You must run. If you hurry, you can escape to one of those small boats by the beach. They won’t catch you if you are out at sea.”
“Anne—”
She ignored him, her mind busy with a plan. “I’ll go and tell them you are…are ill. I’ll refuse to let them see you, and that will buy more time for you—”
“Anne!” He took her arms, the shears still in one hand. “Listen to me. I’m not going to run.”
“You must! They will put you to death.”
Aidan shook his head and pulled her into his arms. She offered no resistance. He kissed the top of her hair. “Oh, Anne. They’ll expect me to run.” He held her tight, giving her a moment to calm herself. “Now listen, you must be brave and do what I tell you, even if you wish to argue with me.” He drew back to see her face. “We are going to greet the soldiers like the most loyal subjects the King has.”
“What if they arrest you?”
He smiled. The panic had left her eyes. Her courage was back. Her practical mind working. “You will weep and rail and pretend to be the dutiful wife. Then you will go to my room and look in the bottom of my clothing trunk at the end of the bed. Inside it is a false drawer. There you will find gold. Take it and return to London. Go to my sister. She will know what to do.”
“Can she save you?”
He almost laughed. Alpina would be furious if she knew of his activities. She barely thought of herself as Scottish. But he couldn’t tell Anne that. “She will do what she can. Now, put a good face on it. For all we know, Lambert dropped one of his gloves and has come to retrieve it.”
“I doubt it.”
“We’ll see, then.” He offered her his arm.
Anne looked down at it and smiled. “Very well. Let us pretend all is normal.”
“It is—for us!”
His wise observation surprised a laugh out of her as he’d intended it to. He escorted her out of the barn, York trotting proudly beside them, and there they were greeted by what appeared to be all the tenants of Kelwin.