The Libertine (Taskill Witches 2)

A man had broken her free? A protector?

Lennox was about to turn away when he felt it—her residual vitality permeating the dank tolbooth. He wrapped his hands around the bars and imagined her there.

Where are you now, sister of mine?

CHAPTER NINETEEN

It was late when the Keavey carriage shunted into Edinburgh. As the coachman guided the team of horses through the outer reaches of the burgh the sun lowered in the sky and the buildings cast long shadows.

Chloris felt the darkness descending on her—both inside and out. For the early part of the journey she’d felt only the hurt of being torn apart from Lennox. They had not even had the chance to say goodbye. That pained her immensely. The taste of happiness she’d had with him was something she thought might strengthen her, but it only made her dread her return to Edinburgh. Her life there seemed futile, hopeless. She couldn’t even think about what would happen when she returned home to Gavin. When she tried to prepare for it, her mind seized.

Everything that was vital and alive in her was linked to her time with Lennox. As the journey progressed and Tamhas’s words flitted through her mind over and over again, she rued her sorry actions. Would he do as she requested and let Lennox and his people be? She covered her face with her hands, scarcely daring to consider the likelihood. No, Tamhas would not be placated on the subject of those at Somerled. He’d glared at her when she pleaded with him again on her departure from Torquil House that morning. It was to no avail. He scowled and slammed the carriage door shut, ordering the coachman to be on his way, before he turned on his heel and headed into the stables. Chloris’s heart sank as she watched him, her suspicions roused. He would not let it pass. She should never have gone to seek help from Lennox. She’d brought a terrible thing about, Tamhas’s anger and another reason to hate Lennox and his people.

She also wondered if Tamhas would inform her husband of her misdemeanors by letter. She did not care if Gavin cast her out now. She had done, before. Now it was as if her life was over. Yet she did not need another reason for Gavin to despise her. Foolish, foolish woman. All for a few hours of happiness, stolen moments of passion with Lennox.

The rituals he had undertaken meant so little to her now because it was him that she cared about. I love him, I have lost him, and I have left him in danger. She could only hope that returning to her real life would restore order for Lennox. It was her only real concern. She recalled walking into his parlor and rued that simple act. Thinking it would aid her, she had unwittingly started something that now threatened the safety of so many people. Chloris realized too late that a love affair between two not only involves those two, but everyone around them. Secret meetings and stolen kisses had repercussions.

As the journey progressed the emptiness and regret she felt only grew.

The carriage slowed as it advanced thr

ough the crowded streets within the city walls. She stared out at the city that she had become part of since her marriage, and she did not want to be there. Originally she’d considered herself lucky to have made a good match and moved to the capital, which had initially been exciting for her. It was most unusual for a woman to leave the place where she had grown up, but Tamhas had made the match on her behalf. He knew Gavin through a mutual acquaintance, Tamhas’s agent for selling wool hides. They had struck up a friendship and Gavin had introduced Tamhas to many notable people in Edinburgh. At the time Gavin was an established landlord in the city, and he had recently buried his first wife. As Gavin’s true nature revealed itself, Chloris often wondered about that first wife, but when she asked him about it Gavin grew angry and would not speak of it. In time her female acquaintances enlightened her. The woman had died in childbirth within five months of their marriage. Both she and the baby had perished. Her informers hinted the child had been conceived out of wedlock. It was because of the tragic circumstances and Gavin’s ongoing desire for a son that Chloris did not speak again of the matter. The fact that she subsequently failed to conceive when his first wife had been with child only made things more difficult.

As the coachman guided the carriage toward the older part of the city, where the well-to-do merchants had their homes, they passed through the more cluttered and ramshackle parts of the town. Here the street vendors and traders sold their goods along the narrow track left for the carriage, and noxious smells rose from the gully at either side of the street.

The coachman yelled from his perch, warning people out of his path. The man was weary, having been told to deliver Chloris and fast about it.

As she glanced out of the carriage Lennox’s description of the Highlands whispered through her mind. Previously she had assumed it a lonely, barren place, only fit for sheep and wild Gaelic speakers, but Lennox’s words had reformed her Lowlands view of the heathen north. What he had described to her was a romantic place, a place where people could live and love without censure, a place where kin, clan and coven were cherished. On that last fateful meeting he’d also told her that it would be hard, that they would have to build a new life together. It was a dream that would never be realized, an impossible dream. And now that she was forced back to the life she had known before, the yearning she had for Lennox and a life with him twisted like a knife in her chest.

The bitter irony of her situation made her eyes smart with unshed tears. She’d almost been ready to abandon her fears and leave with Lennox, and instead she had to return to the pitiful existence she’d had before in order to protect him and his people.

As for her lot, she could not go on living the way she had been. Gavin did not want her, had not done so for several years. She had failed him in every way. Barren, and now an adulteress, she knew what she had to do. She would be brave and talk to him, be honest and offer to leave, in order to relieve him of his burden. She would seek employment. He could marry again, have children with another woman. It was the best she could hope for.

The carriage drew to a halt in the yard at the rear of the house.

Mary, the downstairs servant, gasped aloud when she opened the door and saw her mistress standing there.

“Mary,” Chloris said in greeting as she stepped past her and into the hallway, removing her gloves as she did so. The hallway—so familiar, but somehow strange after her time away—was gracious and well-appointed. The walls were decorated with painted trellises and the stone slabs on the floor were highly polished. It was a fine home. Why did she feel like a stranger there now? The coachman followed, carrying her trunk. Chloris spoke again to Mary, who stood by looking amazed at her mistress’s return. “Would you please offer my cousin’s coachman refreshment and a bed for the night?”

“Yes, Mistress Chloris.” Mary curtsied. “We were not expecting you,” she added.

“I know, but don’t fret on it. Is Master Gavin at home?”

Mary seemed rooted to the spot. The girl was usually quick to speak out, but now she fidgeted with her apron and looked awkward.

Chloris awaited her answer.

Eventually Mary nodded.

Chloris looked down the hallway. At this time of the evening he would either be in the parlor, if they had company, or in his study if they did not. “Is he in his study?”

“Yes, mistress.”

Chloris noticed that Mary was quite flushed in the face as if shocked by her mistress’s return. “That will be all, thank you. See to the coachman, I will announce myself.”

Chloris headed off down the hall toward the study.

“But, mistress...”