The Jacobite's Return (The Georgian Rebel Series) Read Free Page A

thoughts. “I will write to Rosie and tell her I need to see her about matters to do with the estate. I need to see her face to face. It’s not a task to I would care to undertake in a letter.”
    “Thank you.” Jack spoke with real gratitude. Perhaps the idea of Tom telling Rosie had been at the back of his mind all along. It certainly seemed the best solution.
    “You’ll stay here tonight?”
    “Gladly. If you’ll have me? I’ll not guarantee to be the best of company.” He attempted something of his old smile and knew, from the look of regret in Tom’s eyes, that it had not been wholly successful.
    Jack barely spoke Rosie’s name again during his visit, even though he was to stay in the room where she had nursed him back to health. When he lingered long over dinner with Tom, they talked of politics, the nightmarish events at Culloden and their mutual friends, Fraser and Martha. If Jack’s eyes strayed occasionally to Rosie’s habitual chair, or a stricken look crossed his face now and then, neither man mentioned it.
    As he rose to bid Tom goodnight, Jack’s mind returned to the scene that had unfolded in the very room where they were now standing. The events of that night haunted them all, and he alone understood how much Rosie had been affected by them. “Fraser and I never knew, once we left here, how you fared with the soldiers. Did they accept the story of a murderous Jacobite ruffian who, disguised as a woman, held Mr. Delacourt and his family hostage, shot the young redcoat captain dead and overpowered his sergeant before fleeing into the night?”
    Tom laughed at this summary. “Eventually they did. The sergeant did his best to tell the true story. That Rosie grabbed up the gun and challenged Captain Overton when he was about to go up to the attic where you and Fraser were hidden. He omitted to mention that the gun went off by accident, of course, and that it was not her intention to shoot the captain. But we held true to our false account, and since we told the tale that Martha and Rosie had been away visiting relatives for some days, there was no lady of the house who could have fired the shot. It was decided that young Sergeant Daly’s wits were addled by the blow to his head.”
    Jack grinned. “And quite a blow it was.”
    Tom rubbed his knuckles reminiscently. “Oh, aye. There’s still a bit of power left in these fists when I need them.”
    Jack bade him goodnight and went to his room. After a restless night, he made ready to leave the next morning soon after the two men had breakfasted.
    “How did you manage to escape the battlefield at Culloden?” Tom asked as he checked the girths on Jack’s horse.
    “The Falcon rescued me. He is hailed as a hero in the Highlands, having saved many from the butchery of the king’s men.”
    “He is not just a hero to the Highlanders. The Falcon’s exploits are known the length and breadth of England too. He may not be popular with the king and Cumberland, but I know a lot of Englishmen who would like to shake him by the hand.”
    “Along with many others that day, I owe him my very existence. When I regained my memory, we had some mad adventures thwarting the English soldiers during Cumberland’s Highland clearances. But I have often questioned why he did not leave me to die on that foul moor as God—and the Duke of Cumberland—doubtless intended.”
    “Don’t talk that way, my lord. You got away with your life that day. Many good men did not.”
    Jack bowed his head briefly. “You do well to remind me of it. Since that day I have reviewed my choices many times.” He tugged on the reins so that his steed faced the open road. With a short, humourless laugh, he spurred his horse on, throwing his next words back over his shoulder. “I do so again now. Shall I go to the devil? Or continue as I planned and head for London town? ’Tis likely to be the same thing, after all.”

Chapter Two
    “Your ladyship is too kind, but I am reluctant to