Page 9 of Highland Jewel
Fiona’s face immediately grew pale. “Is anything wrong with Catriona and Briana?”
Niall fought the inclination to hesitate. He couldn’t torture his sister. He knew full well that those two children were the most precious things in Fiona’s life.
“Your daughters are fine. Some gossiping friend of Mrs. Johnston has a relative in the constabulary. The woman had heard the authorities were planning something today. As soon as I arrived to pay a call on my nieces, she begged me to come and get you.”
Niall hadn’t needed any convincing. He already knew there was trouble in the wind. Dining with a former commander in the officers’ mess last night, he’d heard a militia captain at the next table crowing that they’d all been too soft with “these blasted, treasonous radicals,” but thatwas about to end. He didn’t know Fiona was going to be at the center of it, however.
Hurrying toward the Grassmarket, he’d seen the lines of cavalry filing down from the castle. They wore the expressions of fresh recruits itching for a fight. That was the reason he’d hired a hackney carriage and had it waiting. In the end, luckily, Fiona hadn’t needed saving. She was already safely off the platform and on her way out of the Grassmarket when he caught up to her. But she’d pleaded with him to go back for her friend.
He turned his attention to Maisie. She was staring out the carriage window, pretending she wasn’t part of the conversation.
“Is it possible someone could be searching for you now, Miss Murray?”
Her blue eyes flitted toward Fiona before returning to him. “My family has little involvement with my activities, Lieutenant.”
“Activities?” he repeated. “Shopping for a ribbon for your hat is an activity. Taking a stroll in the park is an activity. Browsing for a novel in a bookshop is also an activity. Do you actually consider speaking at a protest rally such as this one simply another activity?”
Two red spots blossomed on her cheeks, and she jerked her head toward the window. “I’d be grateful if you’d ask the driver to stop. I need to get out here.”
He looked outside. The carriage was working its way slowly through the intersection at South Bridge. The Tron Church glowed in the sunlight, along with the ever-present vendors hawking their wares to the crowds passing by. “Were my questions too difficult?”
“No, but I really need to get out.” She slid to the edge of the seat and was about to call to the driver herself, but he did it for her.
Niall had been a soldier for all of his adult life. Hurting a young woman’s delicate feelings was of little concern to him. Other things took precedence. He’d seen enough men transform into ravenous beasts when they recognized the weakness of an opponent, particularly when the opponent was a woman. He’d witnessed vicious abuses by those in power, and unchecked violence in men serving them. There was a reason why he resigned his commission at such an early age, regardless of the coaxing from his superiors to remain.
As the carriage stopped, he climbed out to assist her. The street was busy, and he glanced around at the traffic of the bustling city. The two women inside exchanged a few hushed words, and then she placed her fingers in his hand and stepped out.
Maisie looked to her right and left and withdrew her hand. The disarray of her clothing took nothing away from her attractiveness. Shewasa beautiful woman, and for the first time since he’d gone to her aid, he realized he was staring. He could find nothing wrong in the arrangement of her face or anything else. He forced himself to focus on her eyes as they met his. They had the deep blue color of the Mediterranean on a clear morning. They looked like a matched pair of precious jewels, framed by the long lashes.
“From your clothing, Miss Murray, your family will definitely think your activities include brawling in the street. Where do you live? Allow me to escort you home.”
She shook her head with the hint of a smile. “You’ve done more than enough for me today, Lieutenant Campbell. I’m extremely grateful to you. But I don’t have far to go.”
Before he could say anything more, she turned awayand moved easily into the throng of people traveling down South Bridge.
Niall waited, staring after her until he realized his sister was calling to him. Ordering the driver to continue on, he climbed in.
“She is not weak nor fragile,” Fiona said as he settled into the seat across from her. “Ignore her petite size and bonnie face. Maisie Murray has a strong, quick mind and more iron in her character than any young woman I know. She’s quite independent.”
Obviously, he thought. He couldn’t imagine any other woman, aside from his sister, standing on that platform today.
“Your chivalrous nature might be demanding that you save her from what we do, but I’m telling you that you’re wasting your time.”
Niall let out a frustrated breath and frowned at his sister. “Where did you find her?”
“We found each other.”
“How involved is she in this radical business?”
“She founded the Edinburgh Female Reform Societywithme.”
Blast. Because Fiona’s mother-in-law lived with her, helping with his nieces and loving them all as her own, Niall’s sister was free to go and do as she pleased. His mistaken impression of his sister’s activism was that it was limited to circulating pamphlets and petitioning amongst women to raise funds for her causes. Today’s protest and her involvement opened his eyes to the real dangers. And that went for Miss Maisie Murray too.
“What exactly does the Edinburgh Female Reform Society do?”
“Our task is to spread democratic ideals amongst the women of the city. Chapters are forming throughoutScotland and England.” Fiona’s eyes flashed. “In Manchester, the first week after the formation of the Society, a thousand members joined. In Edinburgh, we have over two hundred members now, and we’re growing every day.”
He ran a frustrated hand through his hair. Fiona’s enthusiasm only added to his worry. He understood their cause. He believed in the need for change. But he wished someone else’s sister were leading the charge, and not his. He was far too familiar with the hard fists of those in power. The government had no qualms about crushing anyone who tested their authority. He’d seen it most recently in Ireland.
