Page 41 of The Lady of Red River Valley (Ladies of the Wilderness #2)

Finally, when they had exhausted their story, McLeod stood, his face red. “I have never heard such rubbish in all my life. I dinna believe a word of it for a second.”

Arran pounded his finger on the paper Pritchard had written. “Every word of it is true.”

“I should have ye all arrested for libel against agents and clerks of the North West Company.” McLeod snapped his fingers and called two men over to his side.

“I want a thorough search of everyone’s property.

Bring me any books or papers ye find, so that I may use it in the court of law when I bring these people to justice. ”

“Bring us to justice?” James asked, holding his arm. Eleanor had tried to clean the wound and bandage it, but there had been no doctors to attend to the injury. “We’re innocent in this matter.”

“Are ye innocent in the removal and destruction of Fort Gibraltar?” McLeod asked.

“Aye!” James said emphatically. “Governor Semple, who was brutally murdered by your men, was responsible for Fort Gibraltar.”

“And are ye not the chief factor representing the Hudson’s Bay Company?” McLeod asked.

“Aye.”

“Then ye are guilty by association.”

“Guilty?” Arran could not sit back and let his friend be prosecuted for Semple’s mistakes.

“Dinna let me get started on ye, MacLean. Ye have been at the heart of Lord Selkirk’s colony for four years now. Every atrocity committed by the settlement is upon yer shoulders.”

“We’ve only been defending what is ours by right of the Royal Charter.” Arran’s fists clenched. “You have no right to accuse us and search the property of these defenseless settlers. They have nothing to do with these charges you’ve brought.”

“They have everything to do with them.” McLeod nodded to his men to begin. “Do ye have Semple’s things? Or did ye leave them at Fort Douglas?” he asked Arran.

Arran had no weapon or authority to stop McLeod. He would be forced to stand by and watch as McLeod’s men tore apart what few belongings the settlers had left. What did it matter if he kept Semple’s things a secret? The man would find them eventually.

“Aye. We have his belongings.” They had West’s trunk with his few personal possessions, as well.

“Bring it to me.”

Semple’s things were near Arran and Eleanor’s trunks, so he went that way, watching as McLeod’s men heartlessly ripped clothing, personal items, and utensils from bags, boxes, and trunks.

There were only a few who possessed any sort of papers or books—all except Eleanor.

She had one small trunk dedicated just to her books.

They were dear and precious to her. She had read from them to the men in the governor’s house at Pembina over the long, cold winters, and on more than one occasion, Arran had witnessed her writing in her journal.

She also used them to teach the children.

Would they now become the property of Archibald McLeod?

Arran hastened his steps, needing to warn Eleanor to somehow protect and hide her journal. He did not know what it might contain, but if there was anything in there about the activities of the settlement, it would be confiscated by McLeod.

One of McLeod’s men trailed close on Arran’s heels.

“Eleanor.” Arran spoke her name on an urgent whisper. He busied himself with Semple’s trunk while speaking to her. “McLeod is looking through everyone’s things for papers and books that he might use against the settlement. He will take anything he finds.”

She did nothing more than nod, her gaze straying to McLeod’s man, who stood a little way off. Though she didn’t speak, he could see in her eyes that she clearly understood his meaning.

“I will take Semple’s things to McLeod,” he said loud enough for the man to hear, but then he dropped his voice, “but you must hide your journal if you—”

“You, there,” McLeod’s man said to Arran. “What are you saying to that woman?”

Arran lifted Semple’s trunk in his arms—which was not an easy feat—and turned to face the man who had addressed him. “I’m taking Governor Semple’s trunk to McLeod.”

“What were you saying to that woman?” The man was tall, with deep-set eyes. “Were you telling her to destroy something important?”

“Nay. I was explaining to her what McLeod plans—”

He pushed past Arran and stood in front of Eleanor. “What do you have?”

Eleanor sat on her trunk and stared at the Nor’wester. “Nothing.”

“Dinna bother her,” Arran told the man, venom in his voice. “She doesna have anything of importance.”

“I’ll let McLeod be the judge of that.” He took Eleanor by the arm and hauled her off her trunk.

Arran dropped Semple’s large trunk and pushed the Nor’wester aside. “Dinna touch her,” he said with a hiss. “Or you’ll have to deal with me.”

The Nor’wester lifted his chin and fisted his hands.

“What’s the meaning of this?” McLeod asked, walking toward Arran.

“Mr. MacLean is warning this woman to destroy something of importance,” the Nor’wester said.

“Is this true?” McLeod asked Eleanor.

Arran had never known Eleanor to lie before, but she stared at McLeod now and said, “I do not have anything you will find important.”

McLeod studied Eleanor for a moment and then he said, “Who are ye?”

“Miss Eleanor Brooke.”

His eyebrows rose in surprise. “Lady Eleanor Brooke, the daughter of Lord Brooke, Earl of Rathmore?”

Eleanor did not voice her answer, but simply nodded.

Several of McLeod’s men took notice of Eleanor then, eyeing her with more than a passing interest. Arran’s entire body became rigid, and suddenly the host of McLeod’s men became enemies for an entirely different reason.

“I had heard Selkirk was sending a lady into the colony to bring some refinement, but I dinna believe the rumors.” McLeod looked between Eleanor and Arran, his eyes calculating. Then he nodded toward her trunk. “Show me yer things, Lady Eleanor.”

Eleanor’s hair was still damp from her bath. It drooped in the back, her pins having come loose. But she was beautiful as she stoically opened her trunk.

McLeod looked inside, but it was only her gowns and personal effects. “And that one?” He pointed to her smaller trunk, the one with the books.

“The books I brought with me from my father’s home at Edgewood Manor.

” If ever Eleanor had used her status and breeding, it was now.

She lifted her chin and looked down at McLeod, reminding Arran that she was, at her heart, a member of the aristocracy.

“You will not find anything of interest in there.”

McLeod nodded toward the Nor’wester with the deep-set eyes. He opened the trunk and showed him her books.

“Take them to the bateau,” McLeod ordered.

“You cannot take my books.” Eleanor’s voice rose high as color filled her cheeks. “I use them to teach the children.”

“I can do what I please, Lady Eleanor. I am the Justice of the Peace and everything within yer possession is evidence.” His gaze landed on the traveling desk placed close to the smaller trunk. “And what is this?” He walked over to the desk and lifted the lid.

Eleanor’s journal sat within.

She stiffened and Arran stepped forward, but McLeod held up his hand to stop Arran.

Arran stared hard at McLeod as the man leafed through Eleanor’s personal writings. He read a few lines and then his gaze lifted and he looked from Eleanor to Arran, comprehension in his gaze. “Are ye lovers?”

Heat rose up Arran’s neck as he ground out, “Dinna insult the lady with such vulgarity. She is my fiancée.” But what had he read within the pages of Eleanor’s journal that would lead him to believe they were lovers?

“Ye’re affianced to a lady? Well done, MacLean.”

“That is my journal,” Eleanor said, her lips tight. “You have no right to read it.”

“I have already told ye my rights—and responsibilities.” McLeod motioned to one of his men to take the writing desk, as well. “I will keep all of this as evidence.”

Eleanor stepped forward to grab the journal at the same moment Arran did—but both were apprehended by McLeod’s men.

“Take MacLean and the other five liars into custody,” McLeod said to the Nor’westers. “The rest may continue on to Jack River House, as planned.”

“Custody?” Arran asked, his heart pounding. He tried to pull away from his captor. “Why are you arresting us?”

“Ye will be charged with crimes against the North West Company and subpoenaed to appear in court in Montreal no later than September the first.” McLeod’s self-satisfied smile made Arran’s anger boil. “I will also see that ye are charged with the murder of one of Cuthbert Grant’s men.”

“That’s a lie!”

“Ye told me yerself that one of them fell in the battle instigated by yer men. Ye’ll hang for the offense.”

“It wasna instigated by us!”

“Ye approached Grant’s men. They were not approaching ye.”

“They fired first!”

“I’d like to see ye prove that.” McLeod motioned for his men to take Arran away.

“No.” Arran fought to get free. “You willna get away with this.”

McLeod ignored him and returned his attention to Eleanor’s journal, one eyebrow raised, as if he was reading something sordid.

“Please,” Eleanor begged, trying to free herself from the grasp of another Nor’wester. Her fatigue was evident as she weakened in his hold. “Do not take him.”

“Unhand her,” Arran yelled at the Nor’wester. “She’s a lady!”

“Dinna fash, Lady Eleanor.” McLeod nodded at the large man to let her go. “I will send one of my best men to make sure ye and the others arrive safely at Jack River House.”

Rage pounded in Arran’s chest and he tried to lash out, but another brute came to help the first two men haul Arran toward McLeod’s canoes.

“Arran!” Eleanor rushed after them, alarm in her eyes. “Where will they take you?”

“I dinna ken.” He shook his head, wishing he knew. “Montreal, mayhap.” He stopped fighting his captors, and, at McLeod’s nod, they eased up a bit. The other men were gathering the books and papers they had found among the settlers’ things and returning to the river.

He didn’t have much time with Eleanor.

“Where should I go?” she asked. “Shall I make my way to Montreal?”

Arran shook his head, confused. “No. It would be too dangerous. Stay at Jack River House. I will get word to you once I ken what will happen.”

“Will they—” She choked on the words and put her hand to her mouth. “Hang you?”

The courts in Montreal were influenced and populated by North West Company employees. His chances of a fair trial were almost infinitesimal. He could not make any promises, but he couldn’t let her fret, either. “I will do everything in my power to return to you.”

It would be dangerous for Eleanor to be on her own. He didn’t want to contemplate all the horrors that might await her. He tried to think, but everything had happened too fast.

“Old John,” he said suddenly. He looked around the settlers, his gaze panicked.

“I’m here,” Old John said to Arran, coming to his side as the Nor’westers started to force Arran to the boats.

Arran was breathless as he said, “See to Eleanor and Miriam, please.”

“Aye.” Old John placed his hand over his heart. “Ye have my word.”

They were at the riverside and Arran was pulled into the water. “Thank you,” he said, turning his gaze back to Eleanor, helpless to stop this madness. “I’m sorry.”

“I love you,” she said, reaching for him.

Their fingertips grazed as he was pushed into the canoe.

“I love you, too. Kiss Miriam for me.”

Eleanor nodded as the other Nor’westers entered the river all around her, their arms laden with more than books and papers. They had stolen the very few precious possessions the settlers had left.

McLeod came to her side, Eleanor’s journal in his hands. “I wish ye well, Lady Eleanor. It was a pleasure to meet ye.” He smiled and lifted the journal. “Thank ye for this riveting account. I will thoroughly enjoy reading it. I have a feeling it will aid me in convicting your fiancé.”

Eleanor’s cheeks became pale as her lips began to tremble.

McLeod entered his own boat and called to his men to push off and head south toward the settlement.

The last thing Arran saw as the boats turned the bend was Eleanor standing on the banks of the Red River, sobbing.