Page 33 of A Torn Allegiance
Father stepped closer, his voice low. “While we have a moment, what do we know?” The question rankled.
“He will be meeting at White’s tomorrow with Lord Everly, Lord Gallach, and others to discuss the Lowlands.” She hoped her father would be as intrigued in this issue as he was in the war with France.
“Duncan will be needed,” he said.
Never had she wanted more to be needed. “Don’t you think they might curb their conversation if Duncan is there?”
Her father considered her. He frowned. “They will curb their conversation because of his presence, but he must attend, if only to perhaps convince them.” He adjusted his jacket in a rare form of disquiet. “Everyone knows the Shelby stance on the Highland Clearances. We will wait; we will hold out. But I can’t guarantee we won’t be the last place standing without sheep or the first estate to fall because of it.”
Her chest tightened at his words. She hated the thought that her world was changing in Scotland, the one place she wanted to think of as always the same, with the tenant families she’d grown to love and the beautiful land stretched in every direction. The idea that the Lowlands of Scotland would someday be different shook her in ways she didn’t want to face, not now, not ever.
Chapter Twelve
Hayes’s meeting with the lordsof Scotland went well but did nothing to ease his conflicted feelings about his tenants. Perhaps he should return home with his original plan, using newer irrigation methods and the hardier crop, and forget the sheep.
Partway through the meeting, Duncan had walked in the door. The group had grown quiet; the fact that the Duke of Shelby’s family felt differently about things in Scotland from the rest of them was glaringly obvious. The meeting had ended soon after, and Hayes had accepted Lord Everly’s invitation to go with him to the office of the secretary of war and the Colonies. They walked along St. James’s Street. Men relaxed against buildings, laughed with one another, entered and exited White’s. Not a woman in sight, Hayes said to Lord Everly, “Perhaps it is the wrong time of day for the women to be out promenading.”
He shook his head. “No, you won’t find many women walking along this street. The ones who do may as well announce their brazen and independent natures to the world and might have a difficult time of it thereafter.”
“Difficult time?”
“Naturally. Who wants to marry an outspoken bluestocking of a woman who might contradict your ways all the time?”
Hayes knew exactly who might want to. He himself. What kind of queen would his mother be if she didn’t challenge her husband now and again, if she didn’t think for herself, creatively find solutions and read and learn? Perhaps England wasn’t the best place for Hayes to find the future Queen of Oldenburg, not if they were raised with such thoughts. Though, were the women in his country any different? Somewhat. But he knew all the noble families, had since he was young, and something about the lot of them just didn’t sit right with him either. Perhaps he had always known his future wife lived elsewhere. For these very reasons, among others, Lady Elsie appealed to him. Memory of the striking blue of her eyes, her beautiful smile, the energy with which she spoke all flooded his mind.
Everly jabbed his side with an elbow. “We will have sheep in the Lowlands. You’d be wise to consider them yourself.”
He stretched his neck, attempting to loosen up the stiffness, when he saw a flash of color blur behind the building beside them. They walked farther, and then the street became more crowded. The lanterns were being lit one by one. And the soft glow of the setting sun cast a pink-and-gold sheen to everything around them. The park was full up ahead, and the area was peppered with the more colorful and feminine side of Society. Suddenly, Lamoreaux stepped in their path.
“We have more to discuss,” the man said. No introduction, no manners, nothing but a nod to Lord Everly.
Then, to Hayes’s great surprise, Lord Everly shook the man’s hand. “Lamoreaux. I’ve told him nothing. We could only just now get away.”
Hayes looked from one to the other and up and down the crowded street. “What’s this about?”
Everly turned more fully to face Hayes, halting their progress. “It is well you know that plans are underway, situations that may put your southern border in danger.”
“What plans?” Hayes stood taller, already rising in defense of his nation, though no threats were immediately near.
“Perhaps we can convince him times are evolving and he had best change his allegiance.” Lamoreaux seemed to think he could talk over and around Hayes.
Hayes looked to Everly in surprise. “You are backing this? What possible reason can you have for siding with France?”
“He understands what an allegiance with France could offer.” Lamoreaux’s self-satisfied assumptions were enough to earn Hayes’s eternal disdain.
Hayes looked from one to the other, an uncomfortable feeling rising in his gut. “I don’t have anything more to say to either of you on this topic.”
He continued briskly forward, the other men following, until they reached the offices, and then he turned toward them. “I’m going inside to talk to Admiral Hollings about how grateful Oldenburg is for the presence of the British navy outside our shores.”
Lamoreaux flicked something from his shoulder. “Have you looked at a map, Your Highness?”
“Pardon me?” His patience waned, but he waited.
“You are the tiniest speck of a dot in all of northern Europe that is not with France.” Lamoreaux sneered. “Can you possibly believe your country will remain thus? You are surrounded on all sides. There are more ways to invade Oldenburg than simply by sea.” Lamoreaux’s sharp warning, his twitching eyebrows, his small, weaselly form taunted Hayes.
Hayes stared him down. “As you’ve threatened.” Pistols at dawn? A swift knuckle to his face? The man threatened Oldenburg. He’d said nothing of which Hayes wasn’t acutely aware. Hayes and all his family were highly cognizant of the allies to France that surrounded them. The southern landholders, in truth, had much more to concern themselves with than dying crops. As yet, actual French troops were nowhere near Hayes’s borders—they would have to march across all of Europe and come close to Russia to conquer his lands, and up until now, Hayes had assumed their country to be too insignificant a temptation to do so—but these new threats, this pesky Lamoreaux, filled him with a desire to return to his country and stand at the border himself in protection. No matter the anger that rushed through him, he could do nothing at the moment but turn from them both and enter the building.
Hayes’s meeting with the admiral was poignant in many ways. So shortly after the grave threat of a Napoleonic takeover from Lamoreaux, his emotions had run high and his gratitude had poured out in great sincerity for British naval support. The admiral had been touched as well, and grateful. England’s own abilities to trade with Sweden had increased because of their alliance with Oldenburg. They had gained a place in the North Sea, a friendly port and safe passage; and the two nations, England and Oldenburg, had successfully kept France out of those waters. Oldenburg’s military relationship with England had been pivotal in both their positions in the war. When Hayes realized how strong his country’s relationship with England was, he became much more relieved.
