by Eliza Knight
She was so incredibly beautiful, inside and out. If she truly got her wish and they parted ways, he was going to be the most unhappy man in Scotland. But he hoped that her agreeing to accompany them would give him a little more time to show her that she belonged with him.
11
Bronwen pinched her skirts to still the sudden shaking of her fingers upon entering the docks at Leith. It’d been several glorious weeks away from the city and all the dangers it held for her. Though she was dressed differently, surrounded by the aristocratic Irvine family, that didn’t change who she was.
She closed her eyes for a minute, letting the gentle, salty sea breeze blow toward her face. Taking in the cacophony of the docks. Men shouting, the captain's horn booming to warn the men at the dock to pull them in. Sailors aboard the Duke’s Sails, calling out this order and that. The clomp of boots as they maneuvered the rigging. And the chatter of the Irvine sisters behind her.
What she didn’t hear was Euan. But she could feel him standing close, beyond her line of vision. A sudden shift in the wind, and she caught a trace of his spicy scent.
Not for the first time, she asked herself why she’d agreed to come. The look in his eyes in the ballroom, the way her heart had skipped a beat when he’d begged, his sister’s excitement, and because she was a glutton for putting herself in unpleasant situations.
When she opened her eyes, the docks were nearer now. Men covered in sweat hauling crates. Lads were running this way and that. Captains were giving direction.
Standing on the pier they were being hauled to was Emilia and Anastasia, both dressed in trousers, arms crossed and watching the ship approach. Funny enough, here on the docks, they looked very much like they belonged. They were grinning and chatting. Emilia turned to one of the men who passed her and said something that made him cackle loud enough Bronwen could hear it.
“Are ye all right?” Euan asked, coming to stand beside her, resting his hand only a few inches from hers on the rail.
“Aye. Why would I no’ be?” But she knew why not and why he was asking. The men who were looking for her wouldn’t stop because she’d disappeared for a few weeks. Just as her nightmares wouldn’t go away simply because she wished them to.
“Ye’re a fierce lass,” he said with an appreciative smile.
But fierce was not what she felt, even though she nodded in agreement. She felt as if all the blood in her body had drained to her feet, giving the bottom half of her so much weight that her feet remained rooted in place, unmoving. Perhaps it wasn’t too late to change her mind. She could always wave the Irvine family off and ask the ship’s crew where their next destination was.
Panic filled her throat, ready to explode. But then Euan’s pinky finger slid over hers, back and forth over the top. A slight movement, but no matter how small, it made a huge impact on her, settling the rambling of her brain, and the panicked fluttering in her chest. Knowing that he was there, that he understood her past and hadn’t cast her out, meant so much to her. She’d been so certain he would, and yet he’d proved her wrong once again. Bronwen wanted to fold herself into his arms. How was she going to walk away when this was all over? Worse, how was she going to watch his quest for a bride unfold?
The thought of never seeing him again sent a sharp pain inside her chest, as though her heart were cracking in half. Bronwen glanced down at their pinky fingers, still touching, and then up at his face. What was she doing?
The more she let him touch her, the more she looked at him, the more she let him care about her, the more she found herself falling. As if the earth had opened up and sucked her into the gaping cavern, and no matter how hard she tried to claw her way out of it, she was never going to be on the other side again.
Never going to know who Euan was. Never going to forget the memories of his smile, his laugh, his kiss. Never going to forget his compassion and kindness and the care he took. The way he promised to protect her.
At that moment, she had the terrifying realization that she loved him. And this from a lass who barely knew what love was. But there, standing erect on her heart was a tiny bard shouting into her mind’s space that she, Bronwen Holmes, was desperately in love with a man she couldn’t have. Knowing it made her limbs tingle, her head dizzy. Her tongue was swollen. Almost as if she were sick with a fever, and somehow, she had to find a way to calm it down.
A ship’s horn blew in the distance, startling her enough that she jumped, and the spell between them was broken. She tucked her hands down at her sides and worked to calm her breathing.
“As ye said, they will no’ be looking for me where we’re going.” She tried on a smile, feeling more confident than she had a day ago.
“And even if they do, I’ll protect ye. My friends will protect ye.”
What had she ever done to deserve his protection? The question milled in her brain like a mealworm, eating up space. She tried to shove it aside, to be grateful, but it was hard for her to do that. Hard for her to believe there were people out there who would give and not expect anything in return.
And yet, the Irvine family appeared to be just that. Givers, while Bronwen was so used to only takers. It was a tough lesson to learn that this sort of thing existed. People willing to help people for no reason other than they cared. And yet, she was trying as diligently as she could to grapple with it.
“Thank ye, Euan,” she said softly, hoping none of his sisters heard her use his given name. As intimate as they’d been, it felt only natural when no one was about to call him Euan rather than Captain.
At the same time, she knew how infinitely opposite it was from what the guidebook advised. Perhaps she should have left it back at the castle. Instead, she’d tucked it amongst her gowns. Though she’d gone through it a hundred times, there still were answers she needed within its pages.
With the ship pulled into the pier and the platform lowered for them to debark, they assembled and walked down the gangway to the docks. Bronwen kept her gaze down, casting surreptitious glances about the dock as she kept her balance with the gentle sway of the water. Every man in a cloak was a ruffian ready to rush her. Every hidden face behind a crate was one of them, ready to pounce. She could barely breathe from the fear; her gait was stiff.
She could feel the intense stares of the men on the lookout for her. But where?
Euan’s hand slid about her elbow, keeping her steady and upright as he guided her. Again, she felt soothed by that simple touch. The piercing gaze of the watcher seemed to disappear, and she was able to tell herself it must have been her imagination.
By the time they reached the docks, she felt a little better. Emilia and Anastasia greeted them, each hugging Bronwen. She breathed a sigh of relief at seeing them both so healthy and happy.
“Welcome back to Edinburgh,” Emilia said. “We’ve arranged carriages to take ye to Irvine House.”
“Thank ye,” Euan said with a nod.
Anastasia led the sisters ahead while Emilia nodded for Bronwen to stay behind. They slowed their steps so that Euan and his sisters could walk out of hearing range.
“I’ve put your box in the carriage,” Emilia said quietly. “The one I had for safekeeping.”
Bronwen could have cried with relief and joy at her cousin’s thoughtfulness. Though the things inside were of no consequence to anyone else, they meant so much to her. A shiny button she’d found between the cobbles. A lady’s white glove dropped from a carriage, which still retained the silky feel to this day. She’d washed it a dozen times to get out the stain of the mud it had fallen in. Half a walnut shell from the first time she’d sung in a pub, and the barkeep tossed her the nut as payment. A lock of her mother’s hair. These tiny treasures that anyone who might look inside would think rubbish.
“I can no’ thank ye enough for all ye’ve done.”
“Aye, ye can, and ye have. What is family for?” Emilia put her arm around Bronwen’s shoulder and hugged her gently. “I’ll see ye soon.”
Emilia gave
them all a salute, and she and Anastasia walked back toward the ships.
Bronwen eyed the two carriages arranged for them. Which one held her treasure box? Which one was she to ride in? She wanted to sit with Euan but thought it best if she didn’t. But the decision was made for her as the sisters split up, with the four youngest in one carriage and the two oldest climbing in quickly with Euan. Well, she supposed she had no other choice but to get in. The footmen watched her, one offering her assistance, thinking she hesitated because she couldn’t climb in on her own.
Bronwen smiled and said, “Nay, thank ye,” then forced herself to climb in.
Euan sat beside Amabel, with Maggie opposite her sister, leaving the only open spot across from the man she couldn’t stop thinking about. She took her seat, their knees brushing, and she bit the inside of her cheek to keep all the sensations from whipping themselves into a frenzy at that touch, and willed her brain to focus on the ride rather than the passengers.
Once the footman had closed the door, she stared at it, expecting it to be wrenched off its hinges at any second. Someone had seen her getting in, had rushed the carriage, and would—
Bronwen breathed a sigh of relief when the carriage lurched forward. Thank God. Her imagination was going to drive her mad.
They made their way toward the city of Edinburgh from the docks at Leith. The curtains were open, and though she sat back to keep her face from the view of those they passed, she did look out. They bypassed what had been the parts of town she knew well. The parts where Maggie and Amabel and the rest would never dare to venture for fear of their lives.
Men and women were working. Children too. Fruit sellers, butchers, bakers. Lads selling papers, lasses selling flowers. Women were hanging laundry, dragging their bairns to and fro. Wagons, carts, sorry-looking mules. The street was perpetually wet. Some people stood proudly, smiling. Others looked downtrodden. Their expressions, feelings could all change on a day-to-day basis. Just as hers had. One day feeling mostly safe, and the next, orphaned when her parents were murdered.
As they passed, she sensed Euan’s gaze on her, watching, assessing. Had he figured out that was where she was from? Had she given it away so easily? She’d told him about her parents, about how she’d been running away from their creditors, but she’d not divulged where she was from.
She glanced up at him, meeting his gaze, and gave a subtle nod. Why withhold the truth now? Euan nodded in return, and there was not the pity or disgust in his eyes that she’d expected, but rather understanding and acknowledgement.
And then they were driving around Charlotte Square, and she remembered what Euan had said during one of their lessons, about how driving through had been dull without his pretend love—her. She slanted her gaze at him, and his blue eyes were sparkling as he smiled at her, clearly thinking about the same thing.
Her heart skipped a beat, and she focused her attention back out the window as they passed into the more prestigious areas of the city. The places where if she’d been caught going before she’d be accused of stealing. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled, and the contents of her stomach curdled. She had such a sudden bad feeling about being here, and if she didn’t calm down soon, she would surely go mad. Nothing was going to happen to her; she had to believe that.
Euan had promised his protection and that of his friends. And he did appear to have friends in very high places if he considered the Duke of Sutherland to be one of his best mates.
But memories of the men who’d threatened her haunted her vision, and she could barely follow along with the conversation in the carriage, despite Maggie’s attempts to pull her in.
“Are ye all right?” Maggie asked with a slight touch to Bronwen’s hand.
She jerked away as if she’d been burned, then felt immediately guilty for having done so. Maggie stared at her with concern, and she could feel Euan and Amabel’s stares.
“I’m so sorry,” Bronwen said with a laugh. “Ye surprised me is all. I was deep in thought. I’ve only been gone from the city for a few weeks, but it could have been years.”
“I feel the same way,” Maggie said.
“Were ye thinking about your family?” Amabel asked, earning her a fierce look from her brother and a little hiss of warning from Maggie.
Bronwen smiled apologetically at Amabel. For some reason, the question no longer bothered her. She felt accepted by the Irvines, and their concern was genuine. “’Tis all right. I was.” The men who were after her were only chasing her down because of her family, so she wasn’t exactly misspeaking.
Had Euan divulged her secret? Well, she supposed he wouldn’t have to, given they’d all been listening at the door. And surprisingly, Bronwen wasn’t bothered by them knowing her past. She almost felt more at ease. Because they knew and hadn’t shunned her. They’d embraced her, wanted her to come with them and be a part of their family.
“I’m sorry. Being back here must bring out some memories ye’d rather leave behind,” Maggie said.
Bronwen nodded, feeling a little bit as if she were choking. Maggie had no idea how bad those memories were or what the recollections were doing to her. But as she cast her glance out the window, she caught sight of Euan, whose gaze had permanently seemed to settle on her, boring through into her soul.
How she wished she could unburden herself to him completely. How she felt powerless against the urge. He knew why she’d left the city; he knew some of the threats she’d received, but what a relief it would be to tell him all that had happened before she’d arrived on his doorstep. Tell him the truth about herself and her past. To not have to live alone with the memories.
If she didn’t expect to be gone in a few days’ time, when he’d likely have a new lass on his arm, calling her his bride, then she would have let it all pour out. But there was such a thing as pride. And when she knew he would not be in her life much longer, why should she divulge all of her secrets?
So, whatever she felt she owed him, whatever feelings had developed between them, whatever kisses had come to pass, were just that—past.
They’d not been in Edinburgh long before they received an invitation to dine at Sutherland Gate. Euan was more than happy to send his acceptance, along with that of his sisters and Bronwen. News spread fast amongst society. No doubt someone had seen their carriage pull up to the house, and then word had spread like wildfire until it reached his friends’ ears.
It’d been months since he’d seen Lorne, Alec and Malcolm, and he was looking forward to the ribbing they would no doubt give each other.
When he’d delivered the news to Bronwen, she’d been worried about joining them. At first, saying that she wasn’t sure it was appropriate, and then when he explained that his friends would welcome her with open arms, she worried about leaving the house and being spotted. All fears he was able to assuage.
Despite her protestations, he was eager to introduce Bronwen to his friends. She didn’t think she belonged there, but Euan believed quite the opposite. And he knew his friends would give her a warm reception. Though Malcolm might be a little suspicious at first, as he was with everyone he met.
In the end, Euan hoped that the reception she received would show her that she belonged there with them as much as the rest. She wasn’t an outsider even if she seemed to think she was. Perhaps tonight would lend him a leg up on trying to get her to stay.
She’d been quiet in the carriage on the way over, which might not have been noticed by his sisters who kept up a steady stream of conversation, but he had picked up on it.
Standing by her side in the grand foyer of the Edinburgh manse, Euan was all too aware of her presence. Bronwen was dressed in a light blue gown that brought out the flecks of sapphire in her gray gaze, and her dark hair was piled in curls on top of her head. God, but he felt like the luckiest man alive to be standing beside her. Bronwen was a hidden gem that he’d been lucky enough to unearth.
“Euan, damn good to see ye,” Lorne said, clapping him on the back. His
wife Jaime, resplendent in green silk, beamed back.
“The Highlands seem to have done ye some good,” Jaime remarked. Jaime was a straightforward woman. And like Bronwen, she’d not been born of noble blood. Her father had been a ship merchant, and she’d taken over his business. The difference between Bronwen and Jaime likely was income, and that was it.
“Euan’s good manners and mood is all due to Miss Holmes,” Lillie cut in.
Euan chuckled, slanting a glance at Bronwen, who looked a little embarrassed to have the attention centered on her. “Aye, she has brought out the decent side of me.”
Lorne grinned as Euan introduced Bronwen to them both.
“Ye are verra welcome,” Jaime said to Bronwen. “I’ve heard much about ye from Emilia. Come, let me introduce ye to Lady Errol.”
Jaime looped her arm through Bronwen’s and led her toward Giselle, Alec’s wife, who’d been chatting with Maggie and Skye.
Alec and Lorne gave Euan a look. “And who is your companion?” Alec asked.
“She’s his governess,” Lillie added with a wiggle of her brows before Euan shooed her away to go chat with the other ladies.
“A governess?” Malcolm strolled into the house then, passing his hat to the butler and running a hand through his sandy-colored hair. “Do tell.”
Euan rolled his eyes, knowing he was about to get ripped to shreds by his best mates. Well, he might as well get it over with now. They moved into the parlor, following the ladies, though they settled on the far side near the sideboard and whisky, where they might be able to have conversations not always suited to more feminine ears.
Over drams, Euan told them about the idea he and his sisters had about a governess and the stipulation from his grandfather’s will. He explained that he was damned sure his cousin and uncle had something to do with it but that he’d yet to be able to pin it on them. In the meantime, he’d been trying to work out a way to win. His friends were as shocked and appalled as he was.
