Page 21 of Highland Jewel
“Tell me, when was it that you realized you’d become an activist?”
She stopped. Her corner was in view. She didn’t want to go any closer. She didn’t want to leave him. “When I was old enough to learn about representative government, and when I realized that I had no voice in it.”
He stared into her face, and for the first time, Maisie felt like he was seeing her, who she really was. Not the outer shell of a young and reasonably pretty woman. And she saw him too. Niall Campbell was a man who wasn’t intimidated by talk of equality or of women fighting for their rightful place in society.
She motioned toward her house. “I’m afraid I have to walk from here alone.”
“You don’t trust me to come to your door.”
She didn’t want Niall to know of her brother-in-law’s edict. If a battle were to be fought between these two men, Archibald would be the worse for it. She couldn’t do that to her sister.
Maisie said the first thing that came to her mind. “I think it’d be best if we didn’t cause any reason for rumor or gossip.”
“Because I wouldn’t be considered a suitable caller?”
“That’s not what I meant.” The last thing she wanted was to hurt his feelings. And the deep furrow in his forehead conveyed clearly that hewasoffended. “I just feel that there’s no point to it. You’renota suitor. I don’t accept callers with that purpose. I don’t have visits from gentlemen. This is not who I am. All I’m trying to do is to save both of us the headache of being interrogated over something we’re not.”
She brushed her fingers against his, and his hand immediately wrapped around hers. Maisie stood perfectly still. Never had a man held her hand in this way.
“How did you explain me to your sister the last time?”
“You’re the brother of my friend. There was nothing else that needed to be said.”
“How would you explain me if she looked out a window and saw us standing here?”
Maisie glanced in that direction. That was certainly a possibility. “I’d say you’re my friend.”
His thumb gently caressed the back of her hand. His eyes met hers, and she felt a delicious twist deep in her stomach. “I like that. I’ve been promoted.”
Unto His Majesty the King
From the hand of The Right Honorable, The Viscount Sidmouth
Sir,
Once again, I wish to convey my deepest condolences on the passing of your esteemed father. While his reign will forever be remembered as the greatest in our realm thus far, I have no doubt that your accomplishments as Regent—the defeat of the French tyrant, the securing of our shores, the expansion of our colonial possessions abroad, and the elevation of culture and architecture, to name but a few—have laid the foundations for the most glorious age in our illustrious history.
As you know, divorce negotiations with the former Princess of Wales have slowed due to her unwillingness to give way on a number of key points. However, our information from sources close to her have confirmed that she is arranging to meet with her son, whose whereabouts and identity she has managed to keep hidden.
This son of hers has been the topic of discussions between us in the past, and potential areas of concern we have explored have now become more pressing. If our information is correct that the gentleman is a product of a liaison with the unacknowledged son of the Stuart pretender, such a meeting serves to legitimize his position with insurgent factions in Scotland. Already, this so-called “son of Scotland” has been stirring up dormant Jacobite sentiments through acts of open defiance. He has been credited with the sinking of a royal revenue cutter a number of years ago and with an ongoing effort to supply unruly clan chiefs with weapons.
Our intention at this point, with Your Majesty’s blessing, is to take whatever measures are required to stop this meeting from taking place.
Sir Rupert Burney has established his operations in Scotland and will be able to supply more information shortly.
I remain, Sir,
Your Most Obedient Servant
CHAPTER8
The chill wind cutting along Bristo Street stung at Niall’s face. Ice from the earlier sleeting rain gleamed dully on the paving stones.
The past few weeks had brought him no closer to deciding on his path, and that was beginning to bother him. The future was as bleak and uncertain as the blasted weather. His living arrangements were temporary. His current financial situation was secure, but he needed to do something with his life. He was finding it increasingly difficult to think about leaving Edinburgh, even though it had been more than a month since he’d given up his military career. But as it stood now, he didn’t know what he’d be doing or where he would be in a year.
Passing the children’s poorhouse and the adjacent Bedlam at Lothian Street, he was reminded that he was far better off than many. He had his health, money saved, and his wits to take him into the future. That didn’t put him any closer to what he wanted, however.
The image of Maisie Murray’s face flashed before him now. As it was, he had no right even to consider deepeninghis relationship with her. She was beautiful—there was no arguing that—but she had something more that set her apart from anyone else he’d met before. She had rare intelligence and passion. She’d been polite enough to him the night he’d walked her home as the snow fell. But when he suggested calling on her, her response had conveyed that she was a woman possessed of good sense. He was in no position to court her. Niall had no permanent future to offer her. And permanence was what she deserved.
