in his right hand.
“Welcome,” he cheerily greeted them, as Aidan helped Anne down from the coach. “I had hoped you would join us too, my lord.”
“You knew I would,” Aidan said.
“I had anticipated the prospect.” He clapped his hands together, a happy man. “My asking you here on such short notice wasn’t too much of an inconvenience, was it? Of course, it doesn’t matter if it was.”
“We appreciate your concern,” Aidan returned. He kept his hand on Anne’s arm and she was grateful for the support.
Major Lambert laughed, enjoying his sport.
“My lady is tired,” Aidan said. “Do you have rooms for us?”
“Of course, of course,” Major Lambert answered. He brushed one of the flecks of mud on his shirt with a hint of irritation. “But first, I have someone I’d like you to meet.” He didn’t wait for their response, but took Anne’s free arm and walked her in the direction of the stables. Two armed soldiers fell into step behind them.
Aidan’s hand slid down her arm. He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. Courage.
Major Lambert led them toward a stone cellar built into the side of a hill. He would have hurried Anne faster save for Aidan, who refused to walk past a pleasant stroll. Anne felt a pawn between two kings.
There was a guard at the door of the cellar. As Major Lambert approached, he came to attention and then stepped back. “Come in,” Major Lambert invited.
“My lady will stay here,” Aidan said and Anne was relieved. She sensed she would not like what the major had to show her.
But Major Lambert would have none of it. “I insist,” he said.
Aidan would have protested but intuition told her the major wanted exactly that. It was not enough to crush a rebellion: Major Lambert wanted a pound of flesh from an old rival. “Of course, I will go in,” she murmured.
Her husband didn’t like it. “I’ll go first.” And she was happy to let him do so.
The good-sized cellar had a stone floor. A torch provided light. The air was dryer but no cooler than outside. However, instead of the potatoes, onions, and hams whose scent still lingered in the air, there was a single chair in the middle of the room. A man was tied to it, else he would have slumped over onto the floor.
The prisoner had been beaten severely to the point he was unrecognizable. It wasn’t mud that stained Major Lambert’s shirt, but blood. This man’s blood.
Anne could picture her father in that chair—or, God help him, her husband. Her stomach roiled. Aidan’s hand came around her waist and he pulled her close, shielding her face with his chest. “What joke is this?” he said in a low, dangerous voice.
“Why would you show such a thing to my lady, Major?”
“What?” the officer asked with a mild show of concern. “Oh, beg pardon, does it upset her? Here, then, let me do the introductions and we’ll be done.”
“What game are you playing, Lambert?” Aidan demanded bluntly.
“No game, my lord. This is anything but a game.” Lambert smacked his boot with his crop for emphasis.
“Are you questioning my loyalty to the Crown?”
“I’ve always questioned your loyalty to the Crown,” Major Lambert said simply. “Soon I will have the evidence I need. You recognize him, don’t you? Robbie Gunn?”
“I have never seen him before,” Aidan lied.
Anne didn’t know how anyone could identify him. His battered, swollen face made almost all of his features indistinguishable—save for the hair. His wasn’t as carrot colored as Deacon’s, but it was red all the same.
“I’d wager you have.” Major answered. “Gunn is a Jacobite and a traitor. I believe you are, too.”
“Then you must prove it. But I warn you, Lambie, there are laws in this land. I am not without friends. You will not further your own ambitions on the person of my wife. You will leave her out of any of your schemes. I insist she be sent to London.”
Aidan was sending her away, to safety. She started to protest, but his arms around her tightened, cautioning her to silence.
“I can’t let her go,” Major Lambert said apologetically. “Because, Tiebauld, whether you like it or not, you are a rebel symbol in this country.”
Her husband exploded. “For God’s sakes, man! This is 1814, not 1745. My ancestor’s heyday is long over.”
“Is it?” Major Lambert attempted to lift Gunn’s head with the end of his crop. His prisoner did not move. Lambert looked up. “No, my guess is that if you