She nodded tightly.
“I want to take ye to Gretna Green, in Scotland. I want to marry ye there. There would be nae a thing yer parents could do about it, especially if we stay in Scotland. But that leaves a problem outside of Scotland. The engagement announcement’s been seen. I … liberated a coach that isnae mine. And an elopement with the brother of the man ye were nearly betrothed to…”
“I would be ruined in the eyes of London Society,” she finished for him, her fingers tightening around his.
“Aye. It’s nae that it might happen, either. If ye come with me, it will happen. Ye’re nae ruined yet, as ye’ve got Jane with ye and we can call this a kidnapping, or convince Hurst nae to mention it at all.” That would be more difficult than she could possibly know, but he was the one who’d had the man forcibly removed from his coach. He would be the one to make it right, if it came to that. If it came to him losing Amelia-Rose.
“Yer parents willnae welcome ye back, either. They’ll more than likely disown ye, so if ye change yer mind about me, and about living in the Highlands, ye’ll nae have a home to return to.”
Surprisingly, she smiled briefly. “That, of all things, doesn’t particularly trouble me.”
“It’s only one of many, lass.”
“Are you trying to convince me to refuse to go with you?”
“For God’s sake, nae. But I want yer eyes open. Nae regrets. Nae regrets ye cannae live with, anyway.”
She gazed at him. “That’s your real point, isn’t it? That I should be horribly disappointed to lose access to fine parties and refined company and be forced to spend my days with a rough-hewn Highlander on some lonesome loch in the middle of the mountains?”
Niall winced. “Aye, that’s it, I suppose. I wish I had more to offer ye, but I’ve nae been a—”
“You asked me,” she interrupted.
“Aye, of course I did.”
“I mean, you asked me. You want what’s best for me, but you’ve left it to me to decide what that is.”
He frowned. “What else would I do, drag ye off against yer will and make ye miserable? I want ye, Amelia-Rose, but if yer heart doesnae come with the rest of ye, I have naught.”
A tear ran down her cheek, and it took every ounce of will for him not to wipe it away. “You just described exactly what everyone else has already done to me,” she whispered. With her free hand she lifted one side of her pretty green pelisse away from her gown. His thistle lay pinned over her left breast. Over her heart. “You have my heart, Niall. You are my heart. Wherever you go, I will go.”
Niall closed his eyes for half a dozen hard beats of his heart. Of everything he’d planned, of all the trouble he’d caused for himself and for his family and for her, this was what he’d worried over. Opening his eyes, he pulled her forward and lowered his mouth over hers. His. She wanted to be his.
“I love ye, adae,” he murmured, cupping the sides of her face in his rough hands.
“And I love you, skellum. I didn’t know what I could do to stop this nonsense with Hurst, but I kept … I hoped…”
“It doesnae matter now. Ye’re here, and I’m nae letting ye go.” He kissed her again, the touch of her soft mouth against his making him feel protective, grateful, and very, very lucky all at the same time. “All I can give ye is a bit more time to consider. As long as Jane is with us, ye have an escape. A chance at some respectability.”
“Yes, about that,” Jane said, sitting forward. “Please stop the coach.”
Amelia-Rose faced her companion. “Jane?”
“I’ve watched you two from your second meeting,” Miss Bansil said crisply. “I saw you falling in love. According to your mother, my aunt, that is a horror not to be tolerated. As if it’s wrong for the brother of a viscount to wed the daughter of the second cousin of the Marquis of Lanford. Does he make you happy?”
“Yes, he does,” Amelia-Rose answered with a swiftness that made his heart pound all over again.
“Will the life he’s described to you make you happy?”
“Yes, I believe it will.”
Jane looked at Niall. “Have you lied to her about anything?”
“Nae. Only about when I fell for her.”
“Do you mean to be faithful to her and not abandon her?”
“I do, and I willnae.”
“Then you don’t need my respectability. You need to head north without impediment. I don’t wish to move to Scotland, and so now I mean to worry about my own reputation. I believe I may take a walk, and then go see your mother at Oswell House as you suggested, Niall.”
He leaned across the coach and planted a kiss on Jane’s mouth. “Thank ye, Jane Bansil,” he said, worrying for a second at the lass’s stunned expression and hoping she didn’t mean to have an apoplexy on the spot. Knocking on the roof, he called for Gavin to stop the coach.
“Jane, do you have money if you need to hire a hack?” Amelia-Rose asked, digging into her reticule.
Niall pulled a five-pound note from his pocket and folded it into the companion’s hand as the coach rocked to a stop. “If ye’d take a bit of time for a meal first, mayhap, and then let my mother know where I’ve gone, I’d appreciate it, Miss Bansil.”
She nodded, one hand rising to her lips. “I can do that.”
Francesca had likely figured it all out by now, if she hadn’t realized it already this morning, but the countess had a reputation here in London, as well. She deserved more than an after-the-fact statement, but that would have to wait.
Jane stepped out of the coach and shut the door, then opened it again and leaned in to take Amelia-Rose’s hand. “My best to you, cousin,” she said, a tear running down one cheek. “You see, I’m not a villain.”
Amelia-Rose gripped her fingers. “No, you’re the very opposite of a villain. I’m ashamed I ever suggested otherwise.”
She closed the door again and stepped back. “Are we off, then, or do I stop for some tea?” Gavin asked from the driver’s perch.
Niall pounded the ceiling. “Go, ye idiot.”
As they rolled back into the afternoon traffic, Amelia-Rose pushed the curtains aside to look out at London. Did she have in mind that this could well be the last time she ever set eyes on it? “I wish there was a way to give ye everything ye want,” he said, checking his pocket watch. His brothers had had Hurst for an hour, now. If they kept to the plan and didn’t throw the marquis into the Thames, soulful Lionel would be receiving some choice warnings about making a scandal and then set loose soon.
She sat back, leaning against his shoulder in a way that spoke of trust and even contentment. “I was actually thinking that I haven’t a stitch of clothing with me other than what I’m wearing. I didn’t see your trunk tied to the back of the coach, either.”
“We cannae take this coach north,” he returned, sliding an arm around her waist. “Hurst would have the law after us, and he’d be right to do so. I’ve another coach waiting just north of Town, and I raided Eloise’s wardrobe for a few things for ye. Ye’re of a size, I reckon.”
“Very close, yes.” She twisted her head to look up at him. “Does she know what we’re doing?”
“Nae.”
Amelia-Rose straightened. “She should know. Your scandal could affect her.”
“She’s engaged already. And she’s a god-awful liar. This way she can claim she’d nae idea what her improper brother was up to, and I reckon her friends will believe her.” He’d actually considered telling her this morning, but while he trusted she would do her best to be discreet, she’d more than likely tell Matthew Harris—and Niall didn’t know her betrothed well enough to trust him with Amelia-Rose’s reputation.
“You thought of everything, then, did you?”
“I tried to. I would’ve told ye last night, but they moved ye to a different room. The thistle was the best I could do.” He drew her pelisse aside, brushing a finger along the flower. “I’m glad Jane decided to give it to ye.”
“I’m glad yo
u decided not to give up on me,” she returned, cupping his face in her palms.
“Are ye certain ye dunnae wish we’d nae met? I reckon ye and Hurst might have been happier if I’d nae left the Highlands.”
“I might have set my cap at Lionel,” she confessed, her lips thinning. “He’s very pretty, after all. And yes, I probably would have agreed to marry him, just to please my mother—and to get me out of Baxter House. I would have spent my time being precisely the lady he expected me to be, sober, somber, with no opinion but his, no reading because it will make the skin of my neck sag, no—”
“What?” he interrupted.
A smile flickered across her face. “He told me so, himself.”
“Now I wish I’d punched him when I had the chance.”
“How did you end up with his coach, anyway?”
“My brothers and I dragged him out of it, stripped his driver, and they’re … seeing to him while we leave London.”
“‘Seeing to him’? What does that mean, Niall? You haven’t hurt him, have you? They’ll arrest you, even in Scotland.”
“Nae. His sense of self-importance may be damaged, and he whimpered a bit, but we didnae injure him. They’ll let him loose at half one, and hopefully he’ll go home and sulk and do a bit of thinking before he tells yer parents what’s happened.”
He felt a shiver run through her. “What if they come after us?”
“They may,” he returned, with less concern than he actually felt. “That’ll take some time, since I doubt they’ll go off on a long trip without preparing first.”
“How long?”
“Four days at the most. A little under that if we can hire someone to relieve Gavin and let him snore in here with us. Or he and I can trade off driving.” He took her hand again. “My lass, I have ye now, and they’ll nae take ye from me. I’ll nae allow it.”
She nodded, her expression easing. “I won’t allow it, either.”
Twenty minutes later they turned up a quiet road just south of Hampstead Heath. Beneath a copse of trees the large Oswell-MacTaggert coach stood, four bay horses hitched to it and stomping restlessly while one of the Oswell House grooms watered them. Niall had put the clothes and incidentals he’d selected into a single trunk; the last thing he wanted was for everyone who saw the coach to realize it was set for a lengthy journey.
“Ye ken what ye’re to do, aye?” Gavin asked the groom as he hopped down from the Hurst coach. “Take it somewhere in Knightsbridge and leave it on the street. Dunnae put it anywhere too obvious, but ye need to make certain it gets noticed.”
The lad nodded. “Master Niall explained it to me.”
“Off with ye, then,” Niall took up. “If ye get stopped, dunnae lie. This isnae yer responsibility.”
The Hurst coach rolled back out to the road and disappeared behind the bend. One step finished. Two, actually, since Amelia-Rose still stood beside him. Would always stand beside him.
As that thought struck him, though, it also occurred to him that he’d neglected something. But that he couldn’t do it while he wore these tight dandy’s clothes. Going to the trunk, he unlatched it and forced it open, stripping off the jacket and waistcoat and tossing them inside, followed by the hat and his trousers.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Amelia-Rose watching him, and he concentrated on thoughts of Old Sean and his mad cats. They would have time to become reacquainted later, but not in Hampstead Heath, and not with Gavin already making grumbling noises about how far they needed to get before nightfall.
Once he had on his kilt and a simple blue coat and waistcoat that actually allowed him to flex his arms, he faced her. Now he was himself again. His heart lurching, he walked up and took both her hands in his. “I need to ask ye someaught,” he said, hearing the catch in his voice, and knowing she’d noticed it, as well.
Her eyes widened a little, but she only nodded.
Niall sank down on one knee. “I’ve stolen ye away with the idea of marrying ye, but I’ve nae asked ye formally if ye’ll have me. I promised ye summers in London, and I promised ye a life ye’ll both enjoy and find fulfilling in the Highlands. Ye’ll have the second one. I dunnae ken what will happen to yer time in London, but if ye want to come, no matter who looks at us sideways, I’ll stand beside ye. I’ll stand in front of ye, so I can set every man who looks like he has someaught to say on his arse.”
“Niall,” she said quietly, teary-eyed and smiling.
“Nae. I’m serious.” He took a breath. Rambling was easier, but they were pressed for time. “I love ye, Amelia-Rose. Ye stand on yer own two feet, even with yer own parents set on knocking ye down. Ye’ve stayed kind, and ye’ve a wicked humor, and ye’ve stayed true to yerself. I didnae expect to find ye. I didnae think to look for anyone like ye. But I saw ye, and I was lost. Will ye marry me, adae? My leannan?”
She sent Gavin, rapt on the driver’s seat of the coach, a swift glance. “Leannan, Gavin?”
“Och. Lover. Sweetheart,” the driver replied, flushing.
Returning her gaze to Niall, she sank down on her knees in front of him. “You are a good man, Niall MacTaggert. Without even being aware of it, you look after everyone around you. You’ve bent over backward to try and give me what I said I wanted. I love … I love that it bothers you that I may not see London again. And that you look baffled now, as if you couldn’t conceive of why you should think anything different.”
She cleared her throat. “I love you, Niall. I tried not to, until I realized that it wasn’t you who was wrong for me. It was the things I thought I had in place to make me happy that were wrong. Going to a ball made me forget for an evening how miserable I’ve been. But that’s not happiness. That’s just pretending, closing my eyes to the truth. You make me happy. And my eyes are open. Yes, I will marry you. Happily. Very happily.”
Niall pulled her into his arms and captured her mouth with his own. A fortnight. He’d known her for less than a fortnight, and now he couldn’t imagine a life without her. Her practicality, her compassion—she matched him well. And the Highlands wouldn’t collapse if they held a dance or two at Aldriss Park, for Saint Andrew’s sake. Clan Ross might be better off if a few of its chieftains knew the waltz.
All of that, though, paled compared with the fact that she trusted him, that she wanted him as much as he wanted her. Standing, he took her hand and helped her to her feet, then swung her into the air and kissed her again.
With a yelp she chuckled, folding into his arms. “Don’t drop me. We still don’t know if your sister’s clothes will fit me.”
“I’ll nae drop ye.”
Gavin cleared his throat. “Begging yer pardon, but we’ve a few miles to go before we sleep. If we sleep.”
“Aye.” Lowering her to the ground again, he took her hand and helped her into the coach. “Let’s get to Scotland, shall we?”
* * *
One hand on her chin and the other on her hip, Francesca Oswell-MacTaggert stood on the landing of Oswell House’s grand staircase and eyed the best-dressed red deer in the kingdom. Her sons had meant Rory the stag as an insult, as a touch of their rough Highlands lives brought into her sophisticated London life. Yet now Rory boasted a beaver hat over one antler, a green bonnet over the other, a single earbob, a wilted, badly knotted cravat around his regal neck, and a lady’s skirt around his rump.
She quite adored him, actually, though she would never say so. Whatever he’d been meant to represent, Rory brought … fun to the household. A sense of devil-may-care that she’d known in the Highlands, but had since all but forgotten.
How odd, that when she’d lived in Scotland she’d noticed only the loneliness and isolation, the lack of polish and sophisticated entertainments to which she’d been bred. Once she left, she’d done her best to put all but the thought of her boys out of her mind. Now that they were here, she remembered the laughter, the stubborn, proud sense of freedom every Highlander seemed to possess as a birthright. She remembered warm, passionate nights
in a chilly room, and the bagpipes that had played to announce the birth of each of her children.
“Do you know if Sally was able to get Hannah to help her sew the hem of my green silk gown?” Eloise asked from the top of the stairs above her.
“Dear?”
“Oh, don’t touch the deer. I quite like Rory.”
Francesca forced a smile. “Not that deer. You, dear.”
Her daughter descended to the landing. “Oh. I was going to wear the green silk tonight, but I can’t find it anywhere.”
“I wouldn’t know, my sweet.”
Eloise nodded. “Why is it so quiet? Generally one of my brothers is here stomping about.”
It was quiet. They’d been at Oswell House for just under a fortnight, and she’d already become accustomed to the different energy that accompanied them. The air of barely restrained chaos. “First, I need to ask if you something.”
“Of course.”
“Is anything missing aside from your green silk?”
Eloise’s brows furrowed. “Have we been robbed? Oh, I hope they didn’t get the pearl earbobs that Papa sent me for my birthday.” She turned, starting up the stairs again.
Francesca caught hold of her wrist. “No, we weren’t robbed. You were … borrowed from.”
“They didn’t put my dress on Rory, did they?” She looked over her mother’s shoulder, then blew out her breath. “Thank goodness. Who borrowed what from me, then?”
“I believe Niall borrowed some of your clothes and necessaries for Amelia-Rose.”
She watched her daughter’s frown deepen, then clear with wide-eyed understanding. “He—they—Oh, they didn’t, did they?” she gasped, putting both hands over her mouth, but not quickly enough to cover her delighted grin.
“No one will confirm anything for me, but yes, I believe they are on their way to Gretna Green right now. They certainly couldn’t get anyone to marry them here, not without her parents’ permission.”
Eloise bounced up and down on her toes. “Oh, I want to tell everyone! I knew Niall would figure something out. And she agreed? But she loves London so!” Her expression sagged a little. “She’ll be ruined, won’t she? No one will ask her to parties.”
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