The Gathering Storm (The Jacobite Chronicles Book 3) Read Online Free Page A

the sort of thing. And more than that I don’t know, but I’m sure you’ll find out at the dinner. I thought you’d already know everything anyway, Anthony. You’re normally very well-informed.”
    “Ah, but I’ve been out of the country for six months, my dear. I am completely ignorant of current developments.”
    “But not of how to stop babies crying. Before you go, just show me exactly what you did to bring the wind up so spectacularly.”
    He did, and Caroline bent over to relieve Beth of the burden of the child.
    “Have you got any silver, Anthony?” Beth asked suddenly.
    “Why do you need silver?” Caroline asked.
    “I must give the baby some.” The baronet having come up with nothing, Beth unclasped the slender chain from around her neck, and pressed it into the baby’s hand. “It’s a Scottish custom, very unlucky if you don’t,” she explained. “My mother told it to me. You’ll have to take it off him straight away, though. I don’t want him to swallow it.”
    Caroline looked at Sir Anthony, who was debating whether to don his soiled coat or put up with the cold for the short journey home. She was clearly remembering that he too had given the child a silver coin on his previous visit, saying only that it was a family custom. He smiled vacuously at her, then slung his coat over his arm, and opened the door.
    * * *
    To Beth’s relief, not only Caroline, but also Edwin turned up for the meal. He looked tired and a little harassed, but he was there. Which was as well, when you looked at the other ‘dear friends’ of the Peters’ that Isabella had thoughtfully included. Lord Bartholomew and Lady Wilhelmina Winter; Anne Maynard; Lydia Fortesque and her father Thomas, who Beth had met briefly once, and who Edwin spoke highly of. And an elegant man in late middle age of medium height with intelligent brown eyes, who she had never met before, but who nevertheless looked vaguely familiar, and who was soon introduced by Sir Anthony as William Barrington, Earl of Highbury.
    Daniel’s father.
    It seemed, Isabella gushed, delighted at being able to count such a distinguished name amongst her guests, that the earl had arrived in London only yesterday, but had kindly agreed to make up the numbers. The party was informal, and Beth had already decided to seat herself between Caroline and Anthony, and opposite Edwin, if possible. Or some similar arrangement. She whispered as much to Caroline, and made sure she was in their company, firmly glued to her husband’s side for the pre-dinner drink in the salon.
    “Oh, Sir Anthony!” exclaimed Anne Maynard, materialising from nowhere at his side, and laying her hand shyly on his arm. “I cannot tell you how happy I am that you and your dear wife are reconciled! I must confess I felt partly responsible for your separation, having foolishly divulged that you had challenged Monsieur Monselle.” Her brown eyes were genuinely pleased and embarrassed, as they passed from Beth to Anthony. He patted her arm.
    “Nonsense, my dear Anne!” he trilled. “It was nothing more than a misunderstanding. Beth and I were never separated. We had a slight disagreement before the duel, that is all. She merely returned home early to conduct some business for me in Manchester. I joined her as soon as I was able. People will misconstrue the most innocent actions,” he added, glancing at Lady Winter, who refused to meet his eye. She, after all, had been the main promulgator of the rumour that Beth had had an affair with King Louis and that the marriage was over.
    The bell rang for dinner, and all Beth’s hopes were overturned in an instant, as her husband carefully tucked Anne’s hand under his elbow and led her into the dining room, leaving Beth unchaperoned. It appeared merely thoughtless of him, but it wasn’t, Beth was sure, and was puzzled. Edwin was about to come to the rescue by offering her his spare arm, when a hand descended lightly on her shoulder.
    “If I may have