The Highlander's English Bride

by Vanessa Kelly

  Magnus breathed out a morose sigh. “I’d deserve it. Makin’ homebrew is one thing, but kidnappin’ and such? And my mam’s been after me to quit. She dinna like duffers and free traders, ye ken.”

  “Your mother sounds very wise.”

  “She’ll be givin’ me a worse lickin’ than this when she finds out what we done.”

  “Did Graeme do that to you?” Royal asked.

  “Aye. Mr. Graeme got me and Dickie both. Just about broke puir Dickie’s nutmegs.”

  Sabrina frowned. “I don’t know what that means.”

  “Never mind,” Royal hastily said. “Is my brother unharmed?”

  “Oh, aye. Jackie did threaten to shoot him and dump him in the loch, but Dickie and me said nae. We couldna allow that.”

  Sabrina pressed a hand to her temple. “Oh, thank God.”

  Monroe, who’d also risen, touched her arm. “Sit ye doon, my lady.”

  Sabrina sank gratefully into the empty seat, mustering a shaky smile for Mr. Chattan.

  The old man regarded her thoughtfully before reaching across and patting her hand. “We’ll get yer man, my lady, never fear.”

  “We’ll need Dunlaggan’s help.” She grimaced. “I know it’s a lot to ask, especially since . . .”

  “Since yer da neglected us all these years?”

  She nodded.

  “And are ye thinkin’ of packing up and scampering back to England, or will ye be stayin’ here a spell?”

  “No scampering anywhere, I promise.”

  “Even with all the shootin’ and kidnappin’ and such?”

  “We’re hoping to put an end to all that,” Royal said dryly.

  “I wasna tryin’ to hit ye, my lady,” Magnus earnestly said. “I made sure my shots went wide.”

  “Ye were the one shootin’ at Lady Sabrina?” Patty yelped. “Ye lumpen fool!”

  “I said I made sure I missed her, ye ken!”

  “The lad may not have much brain, but he’s a grand shot,” Chattan commented. “If he says he missed ye on purpose, he did.”

  “Why did you shoot at me, Magnus?” Sabrina asked.

  “Jackie wanted to scare ye away. Ye dinna seem like the scarin’ type, though.”

  “You’re right about that. Now, can you tell me Jackie’s ransom demands?”

  “Aye. Yer to bring the blunt to the shed on Loch Mashie, where we’ve been storin’ the goods. Then Jackie’ll let yer man go.”

  “Just like that?” she skeptically asked.

  “Jackie says we canna stay here anymore. But Dickie and me? Well, Dunlaggan’s our home, ye ken. My mam is here, and . . .”

  His gaze flitted to Patty, who commenced a vigorous polishing of the bar. Apparently, the girl had discovered a new object for her affections.

  Magnus grimaced. “Jackie ain’t a good man, my lady. He dinna care about anyone but himself. I’m right afeared of what he might do if he canna get his way.”

  Sabrina was afraid, too, for Graeme and for everyone here who’d suffered from the Clearances and the years of neglect. In his own way, her father was as much to blame as Jackie Barr for the current state of affairs.

  It was up to her to fix it.

  “If you help me rescue Mr. Kendrick,” she said, “I promise you and Dickie can stay at Lochnagar. I’ll see that your crofts are restored, and that you are able to take care of your mother.”

  Magnus stared down at her, clearly thunderstruck. “That . . . that would be grand, my lady. And Mr. Kendrick said ye’d be happy to go into business with us, too. We’d work as hard as can be, ye ken. I promise.”

  Sabrina felt her mouth sag. “Um, what business?”

  “The whisky business.” He gave her an encouraging smile, which made his swollen eye all but disappear. “It’s legal now, ye ken.”

  Royal softly laughed. “Well done, Graeme. That’s brilliant.”

  Sabrina threw him a questioning look.

  “I’ll explain later.” Royal pulled a chair over and sat next to Chattan. “If it’s the right shed that I’ve got in mind, it’ll be hard to get a jump on Barr. There’s barely a tree for miles around.”

  Concerned mutterings sounded from the other tables.

  After glancing around the room, Sabrina pinned Chattan with her gaze. The old man held the key. He was the closest thing Dunlaggan had to a village elder. He was also a member of her clan, and his support could mean the difference between success and failure.

  Chattan—and the villagers—would have to trust her. And she would have to trust them.

  “Well, sir?” she asked. “Will Dunlaggan come to my help?”

  He removed the unlit pipe from his mouth. “Yer our lady, are ye not?”

  She smiled. “Aye, that.”

  “Then just say what ye need, and ye shall have it.”

  * * *

  The days were long this time of year. Even so, dusk had fallen by the time they were in position. That should have made things easier, but Sabrina’s nerves were still taut as an overstrung harp.

  “You don’t have to do this,” Royal said. “I’m sure Barr would take the money from me.”

  She shook her head. “Magnus said Jackie blames my father for everything. Humiliating me is one way for him to exact a measure of revenge.”

  Royal made a frustrated noise. “Graeme will kill me if anything happens to you.”

  “Barr won’t hurt me. He just wants to embarrass me.”

  She sounded more confident than she felt. Pistols and criminals made for a bad combination. As Graeme said, things could quickly go sideways.

  “I have to do this,” she added. “Graeme needs me.”

  Royal’s flinty gaze grew soft. “Aye, he does. All right, then. Just stick to the plan, and we should be fine.”

  Chattan, who was standing beside them on the hillock overlooking the shed, waved a hand. “Barr’s a right bastard, but he’s nae stupid. He won’t hurt Musgrave’s daughter. Not worth it.”

  Royal peered at his pocket watch in the dim twilight. “It’s past time to hand over the money, so we’d best not dawdle any longer. Hopefully the others are now in place.”

  Their plan was simple. Sabrina, with Royal and Chattan, had boldly ridden in. Since Barr would be expecting them, there was no reason to try to mask their approach.

  In fact, their obvious arrival would hopefully serve as a diversion. Wilson, Mr. Monroe, and several villagers were to row quietly across the loch under cover of the falling dusk, and wait just offshore. If Barr tried to escape or hurt someone, they would spring into action.

  It sounded easy, but could go wrong in so many ways.

  Sabrina smoothed the skirts of her pelisse, surreptitiously checking the inside pocket to ensure her pistol was easily accessible.

  “Remember, just give him the money and get out of the way,” Royal instructed. “No heroics, all right? We’ll do the rest.”

  Good thing she’d neglected to mention that she was carrying a weapon. “You must be thinking of some other Lady Sabrina. I’m never reckless.”

  He snorted. “You’re as bad as Graeme. No wonder you’re perfect for each other.”

  “It’s grand to have such a brave lady come home to Lochnagar,” said Chattan. “Your grandda would be fair bustin’ with pride, ye ken.”

  Since that made Sabrina feel rather misty, she simply gave him a smile.

  Royal gave her a quick hug. “Off with you, lass, and be careful.”

  She headed down the hill, carefully picking her way over the rocky, gorse-covered ground. How absurd would it be if she tripped and sprained an ankle, like one of those silly heroines in lurid stories? Sabrina knew she was no heroine, but the current situation seemed to call for one. That meant making no careless moves, keeping her nerve, and not falling flat on her face.

  The shed was just a squat, dark blot on the shoreline. A light flickered at the back window as a curtain was moved aside. Then all went dark again but for the glow from a lantern on the pier. It cast enough
light for her to safely walk around to the front, where another lantern sat on a crate by the door. It illuminated the rustic porch and a boat tied close to the shoreline.

  Sabrina had no idea if the villagers were already in place out on the water, safely hidden by darkness from prying eyes. If not . . .

  You’re a heroine, remember? Go rescue your hero.

  She stepped firmly onto the porch, but stayed at the edge when the door opened. Suddenly, a bulky figure stood backlit in the doorway.

  “Took ye long enough,” he growled.

  “Mr. Barr, I presume?”

  “Jackie’ll do fine. We don’t hold with fancy titles in these parts, lass.”

  “My name is Lady Sabrina, and you will address me by my proper title, especially since you are trespassing on my lands.”

  When she heard a familiar snort from inside, her knees wobbled with relief. Graeme was alive and apparently well enough to be amused by her answer.

  Jackie strolled out. He spat a wad of chewing tobacco that landed mere inches from her boots. Royal had warned her that Barr would try to bait her.

  “Yer lands? Ye never set foot on them until a few weeks ago. My family’s been here for decades, ye ken. Until yer bastard of a da kicked us off.”

  “I regret the negative impact of the Clearances, and I will do everything I can to correct all of it. What I cannot do, however, is ignore criminal activity or allow you to terrorize the villagers or my people.”

  “Sabrina,” Graeme called from inside, “just give him the money and let him be on his way.”

  Jackie’s hard, intelligent gaze studied her, so she studied him back. His stance was relaxed, both hands thrust into the pockets of a rough wool coat. He didn’t look nervous at all.

  “Yer fella’s got some sense, ye ken. Get ye in here, and let’s make the deal.”

  “Sabrina, stay out on the porch,” Graeme barked.

  She mentally rolled her eyes. “Yes, Mr. Kendrick. I’m aware.”

  Royal had warned her about that, too. If she went inside the shed, she could be taken hostage. Keeping her distance from Barr would allow the men in the boats a clear line of fire, if necessary. Royal was also making his way around to the other side of the shed, so—

  “And we can see that other fellow creepin’ along the side,” Jackie said, as if reading her thoughts. “I got other men in here, ye ken. Best not be tryin’ to pull a fast one, lassie.”

  “I simply wish to pay you off and see you gone from Lochnagar,” Sabrina replied. “If you bring Mr. Kendrick out, I will do just that.”

  “Ye have the money?”

  Sabrina pulled a wad of notes from her reticule.

  “How much?”

  “Fifty pounds.”

  Jackie sneered. “Ye’ll need to do better than that.”

  “I also have jewelry—two gold bracelets and an opal necklace.”

  “Hand ’em over.”

  “Not until you bring Mr. Kendrick out.”

  Jackie suddenly peered beyond her into the gloom. “Where’s Magnus, by the way? What did ye do with him?”

  “Not a damn thing,” said Chattan, suddenly looming out of the dark. He strolled up beside Sabrina.

  For such an ancient, he was certainly spry. And very stealthy.

  “Oh, hell, not ye,” Jackie groaned. “Where’s my cousin, ye old coot?”

  “Kept him as a hostage,” Chattan said. “Just to make sure ye held to yer word.”

  Of course, Magnus had been pathetically grateful to play the role of hostage, so as to avoid the confrontation with his cousin.

  “He’s useless, anyway. Yer welcome to him.”

  “Magnus is certainly well rid of you,” Sabrina said. “Now, if you want your ransom, bring Mr. Kendrick out. This episode is growing quite tiresome.”

  Jackie tipped his hat in a mocking salute. “As ye say, yer ladyship. Bring him out,” he called over his shoulder.

  A gangly and exceedingly nervous lad led his captive out to the porch. Sabrina winced when she saw Graeme’s arms so tightly lashed behind his back.

  “Och, Dickie,” Chattan said with disgust. “What have ye gotten yerself into?”

  “I dinna ken, Mr. Chattan—”

  “Shut yer trap, boy,” growled Jackie. “And stay right there with that bloody great bloke.”

  Sabrina anxiously studied Graeme for any sign of injury. He was disheveled and grim-looking, but mostly seemed unhurt.

  “Are you all right?” she asked.

  “Aye, but you should not be here.”

  “Mr. Barr’s instructions were very clear.”

  “You didn’t have to follow them.”

  She scoffed. “I couldn’t let him hurt you.”

  “Save yer lover’s tiff for later,” Jackie ordered. “Now, bring me the ransom.”

  “Throw it to him, lass,” Graeme said.

  She was about to comply when Jackie’s hand emerged from his pocket. The cad pointed a pistol right at her.

  Graeme cursed and lunged forward, but a man barreled out of the shed. The brute shoved Dickie aside and clamped a hand on Graeme’s shoulder, restraining him.

  “Stand fast, ye bastard,” he barked.

  Of course Jackie would have his men waiting in the shed. He was a criminal, but certainly not a stupid one.

  Jackie waved the pistol at her. “Get over here.”

  “Do as he says, Sabrina,” Graeme calmly said. “I promise it will be fine.”

  She flashed him a shaky smile, then inched forward. Jackie clamped his hand around her wrist and yanked. She yelped, crashing into him, but the blasted man barely moved.

  “If you harm even one hair on her head, I will kill you.” Graeme’s low, lethal snarl lifted the hairs on the back of Sabrina’s neck. Even Jackie looked disconcerted.

  “I’ll nae be hurtin’ her. She’s just a little insurance till we get clear of ye.” He gave Sabrina a shake. “And stop wriggling aboot and open that damn purse, so I can have a look.”

  While she complied, Chattan strolled over to the lantern that was perched on the crate. He fetched a small spill from his pocket, thrust it into the lantern’s flame, and then made a show of lighting his pipe. He’d overstuffed it, so sparks flew and the tobacco flared up.

  It was the signal to the men out on the loch.

  “Always knew ye were a fool, Jackie,” Chattan said, puffing away.

  Jackie peered into Sabrina’s reticule, then gave a satisfied grunt and nodded at the man holding Graeme. “All right, Sam. Shove him down on that bench, and let’s be off.”

  Jackie started to pull Sabrina toward the pier.

  She resisted. “What are you doing?”

  “Let her go,” Graeme barked. “Take me instead.”

  “Och, I’m sick of the sight of ye, Kendrick.” Jackie dragged Sabrina toward the boat. “And I’ll nae be harmin’ her. We’ll let her off on the other side of the loch. Ye can fetch her when ye find a boat.”

  Graeme was on his feet. Jackie’s accomplice leveled a pistol at him as he backed toward the pier.

  “Stop, Graeme,” Sabrina yelled. “I’ll be all right.”

  Actually, she was no longer certain of that. Still, she couldn’t allow Graeme to get shot trying to save her. With his hands tied, what could he do?

  Where in God’s name was Royal?

  “Sabrina.” Graeme’s face looked pale in the light of the lantern, his expression anguished.

  “I’ll be all right,” she repeated.

  “Dickie, untie the boat,” Jackie ordered.

  The lad jerked forward, starting toward the pier.

  “Don’t do it, boy,” Chattan said.

  Dickie cast a panicked look at Jackie. “But—”

  The old man smiled. “It’ll be fine, lad. Trust me.”

  Dickie drew in a wavering breath and stared at his cousin. “I’ll nae be goin’ with ye.”

  Jackie snorted. “Stupid lad. Suit yerself.”

  Graeme moved up to stand wi
th Dickie and Chattan, looking ready to murder Barr. Then he glanced to his left. “Finally.”

  A pistol fired, and Sam screamed and fell to his knees on the damp planks of the pier. Royal appeared out of the night, smoking weapon in hand.

  “Goddammit,” Jackie yelled. “I swear I’ll shoot her.”

  Sabrina realized she only had one choice. She steeled herself, and then threw all her weight against her captor. Jackie cried out, wheeling an arm in a desperate bid for balance before falling off the side of the pier, taking Sabrina with him into the water.

  The freezing water.

  Unlike the Serpentine, there was no shallow bottom here. As her boots filled and her clothes weighed her down, Sabrina fought panic and struggled to reach the surface.

  She broke free, gasping, hair streaming in her eyes. Flailing about, she smacked someone’s face.

  “Stupid cow!” yelled Jackie from right behind her.

  He shoved her down, and she went under again. The water sucked her into its dark, terrifying void.

  She felt more than saw a body arrowing into the loch, right next to her. A hand clamped onto the back of her collar and pulled her up to the surface. Coughing, she drew the sharp night air into her lungs. An arm snaked around her shoulders and pulled her against a broad chest.

  “I’ve got you, love,” Graeme said. “Don’t struggle.”

  Sabrina managed to wipe her eyes, and the shoreline wavered back into view. There were other boats now beached on the sands and men running toward the pier.

  “Where’s . . . where’s Barr?” Her teeth chattered.

  “Royal’s got him,” Graeme said as he swam them to the shoreline.

  Monroe and Wilson splashed out into the shallow water to meet them, pulling them toward the gravelly shore.

  “I can’t b . . . believe how deep that water is,” Sabrina stuttered as she and Graeme sloshed through the last few feet. “And how cold.”

  “It’s quite a drop-off.”

  “How did you get free?”

  “Dickie cut me loose.”

  “G . . . good for Dickie.”

  Graeme swept her up, sodden clothing and all, and carried her to the shed.

  She gazed up at him, his hair shiny and sleek against his skull. His mouth was set in a taut line, and he looked grim as death.