How to Abduct a Highland Lord

by Karen Hawkins

  She blinked and glanced at Dougal, who looked as disbelieving as she felt.

  He said, “Gregor, I’m not sure—oof!” He hopped on one foot. “Damn you, Gregor! That was my toe!”

  “Did I step on you?” Gregor asked. “I’m sorry.”

  Dougal bent to examine his boot. “You’re ruining my shine, too.”

  “Here.” Gregor threw his handkerchief at Dougal, who caught it with his free hand. “While you are buffing, Fiona and I will continue our conversation.”

  Gregor tucked Fiona’s hand in his arm and continued down the street. “Fiona, you need to challenge Kincaid, force him to see your way of things.”

  “But he gets angry.”

  “Ignore it. In fact, ignore him. No matter how angry he gets, just do what you think is right. He’ll come around in time.”

  Fiona looked up at him, her green eyes wistful. “Do you really think that will work?”

  He patted her hand. “Try it. See if I’m right.”

  She smiled. “Thank you, Gregor. I knew I could count on you.”

  When Dougal caught up, they mounted and rode to the park, the sun shining gently from the blue sky above.

  A short time later, Dougal and Gregor sat at White’s, savoring the best the men’s club had to offer. A bottle of brandy sat before them, with a plate of bread and cheese.

  Gregor thumped his glass down on the table. “I think I handled that very well. No man likes a woman who bosses him about, and Fiona already tends in that direction.”

  Dougal nodded. “She’s a bossy wench. Kincaid’s days of peace are numbered. She’ll challenge him every step of the way.”

  “Which she should be doing, if she had any sense.”

  “Women,” Dougal said, sighing. “No sense at all.”

  “None of them. Just look at this ridiculous plan of hers to marry Kincaid to begin with. Pure nonsense.”

  Dougal nodded glumly, toying with his glass. “She did manage to halt the feud.”

  “Yes, but if Fiona and Kincaid are estranged, we won’t have to see him at family dinners for the rest of our lives.”

  Dougal brightened. “I hadn’t thought of that.” He took another long drink. “It’s a pity Alexander says we cannot lift a finger against the Kincaids.”

  “Aye. He threatened to strike us with lightning for the rest of our days if we even thought of it.” Gregor grunted. “Petty tyrant.”

  Dougal looked thoughtful. “Perhaps Fiona will call the bairn Callum. That would be better than vengeance.”

  The idea pleased Gregor until another thought intruded. “What if it’s a girl?”

  “Callumia.”

  “That sounds like a stomach ailment.”

  “Callia?”

  “Hm. Maybe.”

  They were silent a moment, contemplating the addition to their family. Dougal poured more brandy into his glass. “Gregor, do you think Fiona’s sacrifice qualifies as her deed?”

  Though they didn’t speak of it often, the curse was ever in their minds.

  Gregor caught Dougal’s hopeful gaze and shrugged. “Perhaps. It was a sacrifice, made with a pure heart. That’s all the curse requires.”

  “That’s true. The curse doesn’t say it has to be successful.”

  “Aye. We all just have to make the effort.”

  Dougal frowned. “Gregor, perhaps you shouldn’t have given Fiona such bad advice. She’s going to do something to thwart Kincaid, and it might be something unsafe.”

  Gregor scowled and shoved his empty glass across the table. “She’s not a fool, Dougal.”

  “No, but she has a temper, like all the MacLeans. There’s no telling what she might do if angered. Ask Lucinda Featherington.”

  “Bloody hell, Dougal. Must you be the death knell of every good idea I have?”

  “At least I know what I am,” Dougal retorted. “Unlike you, who thinks you were supposed to be a prince!”

  “That’s not so, but I wouldn’t complain if I were one.” Gregor looked into the amber depths of his glass. “Whatever happens, Fiona will find the right path.”

  “And if she doesn’t?”

  “Then it’s up to us to make certain she does.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  I’ve only met the late laird MacLean once. It was a long time ago, and I was no bigger then ye are now. I don’t remember much, of course, except for his eyes. Green they were, but dark, like moss at the bottom of a deep river. I’ve often thought ye could get lost in eyes like those. Lost and never find yer way back.

  OLD WOMAN NORA OF LOCH LOMOND

  TO HER THREE WEE GRANDDAUGHTERS ONE COLD NIGHT

  “I trust you had a pleasant ride, my lady.” Devonsgate hurried forward to take Fiona’s hat.

  “It was lovely,” she said, pulling off her gloves and handing him those as well. “I shall try to ride every day.”

  “That is a wonderful idea, my lady, providing it doesn’t rain.”

  “It was beautiful today.”

  “Excellent, madam, although lately—” The butler looked out the window, so as to make certain the sun was still in view. Satisfied that it was, he nodded. “We’ve had more than our fair share of unexpected storms. You might want to take an umbrella with you when you ride, just in case. A sudden storm could be a—if you’ll pardon the expression—damper on being out-of-doors.”

  Fiona, already on her way up the stairs, replied without thinking, “I’m sorry.”

  She slowed in her steps at the silence that followed and looked over her shoulder at the butler.

  Devonsgate was frowning. “Madam, I didn’t mean to imply fault. The weather is merely unpredictable.”

  She stopped on the top landing. “I know. I just meant…” Oh dear. How was she going to get out of this one? “I meant I am sorry you felt you had to warn me about the sudden storms. We have a lot of that in Scotland, so it doesn’t seem odd to me.”

  “Indeed, madam, I have heard that to be true.”

  “Oh yes. We have lots and lots of weather.” She sent the butler a bland smile. “Perhaps it followed me here, to London.”

  “Then we can only wish it will find its way back home,” Devonsgate said. “Shall I send up a bath, madam?”

  “No, thank you. Perhaps later.” She started to turn, then paused. “Devonsgate, do you have any brothers?”

  “Me, madam?” The butler looked surprised at the question. “Why, yes. Three.”

  “Are they older than you?”

  “Yes, madam. Quite a bit.”

  “Have you ever asked them for advice and received only empty-headed drivel in reply?”

  Devonsgate’s lips twitched. “Yes, madam. I went to visit my older brother some years ago and had the misfortune of coming down with an earache. My brother informed me that the best way to rid myself of the pain was to place a roasted garlic in my ear.”

  “Oh, dear! Did you do that?”

  “Yes, madam. At the time, I would have tried anything.”

  “Did it work?”

  “Not a bit. The very next day, he told me that remedy only worked on horses. The worst part of it was, even after I removed the garlic, the scent had soaked into my skin, and it was days before I could come near other persons without sending them running. Even the doctor balked at examining me. I was fortunate the earache resolved itself.”

  “At least your brother was attempting to be of service.”

  “I am not wholly convinced of that,” Devonsgate said with a dark look. “I believe Robert would easily sacrifice my pride just to have a story to tell our other brothers.”

  Fiona laughed. “My brothers have never done anything that evil to me, though today I asked their opinion of something, and they offered me such ridiculous advice. They hope I’ll follow it and make a fool of myself.”

  “I am glad to see you weren’t taken in, madam.”

  “When you are the only female in a house full of males, you learn quickly.” She shook her head, thinking about poor Dougal
’s toe. He really needed to be more attentive when Gregor was trying to pull the wool over her eyes.

  “Devonsgate, where is his lordship?”

  “He left while you were out riding, but I don’t know where he went.” Devonsgate beamed. “He asked for the accounts and said he would not be going out this evening.”

  “Not at all?”

  “No, madam.”

  Jack had capitulated! Fiona smiled, happy all the way to her toes. “Thank you, Devonsgate. I think I will have a bath.”

  “Yes, my lady. Would you also like a tea tray?”

  “Yes, after my bath.”

  Fiona thanked him and made her way to her chamber. She should have known better than to ask her brothers for advice, but she had no one else to ask. She’d met several very nice ladies she thought she could befriend, but she’d hadn’t yet spent enough time with any of them to become close. Perhaps in a few months.

  But no. She placed a hand on her stomach. If she wasn’t with child yet, she soon would be.

  She undid her coat and slipped it off, placing it on a chair. She was almost certain their child would be a boy. A boy with deep auburn hair and bright blue eyes.

  What would life be like after the arrival of their child? She’d probably return to Scotland; it was not unusual for married couples to live apart nowadays, and many seemed to find such an arrangement convenient.

  Fiona wasn’t so certain she’d feel the same way. She’d miss Kincaid House with its luxurious thick rugs and heavy velvet hangings. More important, she’d miss Jack.

  She would miss waking to him in the mornings. She would miss his touch and the passion they shared. She would miss seeing his smile first thing in the morning and the way he spooned against her when he first awoke. All of that suddenly seemed very fragile and precious.

  Fiona sighed. If she continued thinking this way, she’d be blue as a megrim. Yet she could not help feeling that in so many ways, her life had changed. For the first time, she wondered if she’d be satisfied going back to her old life. She’d always thought her home in the hills was all she’d ever need. Now she wasn’t so sure.

  She’d have their child, which was something. Before, whenever she’d thought of being a mother, she’d imagined having three, four, or five children. She’d loved being in a large family and always thought that one day, she’d have a large, noisy, busy one herself.

  It was one thing to sacrifice one’s future in the desperation of a moment. It was quite another to sit quietly after the desperation was gone and face a string of dismal changes in one’s future.

  Fiona sighed. She was making herself depressed. Some things were better left unthought. Besides, she had so much to be happy about right now—not the least of which was Jack’s admission that their relationship deserved respect. That was what she should be focusing on and enjoying.

  A knock on the door announced the entrance of the maid, who assisted Fiona in undressing and brought a robe for her to wear while the bath was being prepared.

  An hour later, the tub was filled, and Fiona was more than ready to soak. She sent the maid away and sank into the scented water, steam curling around her. Now her life with Jack would change for the better. Perhaps this new step would bring them closer, and they could—No. Better not to think that way. Still, a trill of hope warmed her, and she smiled softly, her earlier gloom lifting.

  That was how Jack found her when, package in hand, he opened the door to his bedchamber. A bright beam of sunlight illuminated the steam curling around her, her skin glistening intriguingly.

  She smiled softly, humming as she washed one of her legs, whose curves begged for his touch. Her eyes glowed, and her lips curled in a pleased smile.

  Something about it made him smile in return. Then he realized he was standing in the door, staring like an adolescent, his package forgotten in his slack grip.

  Excited about the present he’d brought her, he pushed the door closed, the sound echoing in the silent room.

  Startled, Fiona scrambled to sit upright, water sloshing to the floor, her wet hands slipping on the edge of the tub. With a splash, she fell back into the water and slid under the surface with a wild thrashing of arms and legs.

  “Fiona!” Jack was at her side in a moment, lifting her back into a sitting position.

  She sputtered, her drenched hair falling over her face.

  “Good God, you scared me,” he said. “It’s a good thing I was here; you could have drowned.”

  She parted her hair and glared up at him, her green eyes sparkling. “I wouldn’t have slipped if you hadn’t startled me to begin with!”

  “I only shut the—” Suddenly, he saw his neatly wrapped package floating in the tub, sinking rapidly. He cursed and fished it out, holding it up while water drained from it in long streams. “Damnation!”

  “What’s that?”

  Jack wrung out the package, the paper ripping and clinging to his hands. “A present,” he said grimly. So much for his plan to delight her.

  It had been an unusual thought for him. Oh, he’d given presents to his mistresses, because they were expected. This was the first time he’d ever had the impulse to purchase a gift for a woman merely to see her smile.

  He hoped the two delicate chemises were not ruined.

  “A present? For whom?”

  “For you! Who else?”

  “You bought me a gift?” She couldn’t seem to believe it. “But…why?”

  Flummoxed was not the reaction he’d wanted. He’d wanted her to be delighted, thrilled, impressed.

  She rose a bit, trying to see the package. “What is it?”

  As she rose, her breasts crested the water, the peaks taut.

  Suddenly unable to breathe, Jack had to force his attention back to the package. “For someone who causes it to rain, you seem very uncomfortable in water.”

  “Never mind that. I want my present.” She scooted to the edge of the tub and reached up for it.

  He held it higher, enjoying the way the water was running down her shoulders and over her breasts. “Not yet.”

  She settled back down and pouted. “It is evil of you to buy me something and then tease me with it.”

  Jack set the package on the hearth. “I will have to dry them out before I give them to you.”

  “Them? There’s more than one?”

  “Yes.”

  “Hmmm, it can’t be something to eat if you can dry it out.” She peeked over the edge of the tub at the package as it sat in a puddle by the fire. “I think I recognize that paper. Is it something to wear?”

  “I am not saying another word on the subject. You will just have to wait.” He pulled a chair to the edge of the tub and sat, stretching his legs before him.

  Fiona colored. “You cannot mean to sit there and watch me bathe.”

  “No.” He let his gaze travel across her. “I mean to sit here and admire. That is a totally different matter.”

  “It looks like watching.”

  “Let me show you my watching stance.” He shifted ever so slightly to his left. “See? This is watching. This”—he shifted back into place—“is admiring.”

  Fiona gave a reluctant smile. “Very humorous, my lord.” She leaned over and dipped her hair into the water, then smoothed it back, her face in stark relief. “I am almost finished, as it is.”

  Though Jack had looked at Fiona hundreds of times, held her in his arms, and kissed every inch of her face, he’d never before appreciated the curve of her cheeks, the line of her brow, as he did now.

  “How are your brothers?”

  She slid the cloth down her shoulder. “Sniping at each other, as usual.”

  “You didn’t enjoy your ride?”

  “I always enjoy my ride, even when the company is not the best.” She wrung out the cloth and hung it over the side of the tub. “My towel, please.”

  He sighed his disappointment, then rose and picked up the towel from the table. Instead of handing it to her, though, he held it o
pen and waited for her.

  Fiona hid a smile. Her husband was a very physical man, something she enjoyed very much indeed. She stepped out of the tub into his waiting arms.

  “Allow me,” Jack murmured, sliding the thick towel down her body.

  Fiona luxuriated in his touch. He was being so wonderful. He’d brought her a present, had agreed with her complaints about his behavior and had changed it, and was now touching her in a way destined to make them both very happy.

  “There. Everything but your hair.”

  “I was going to sit by the fire and comb it until it dried.”

  He wrapped the towel around her and tucked it in place. “I can see through your plan; you are just trying to get closer to that package.”

  “Me?” She batted her eyes innocently. “Will you at least give me a hint?”

  “No.” He sat by the fire, waiting until she sat in the chair opposite and began combing out her hair.

  As Fiona combed her hair, her heart was full with all his gifts. “Jack, thank you so much.”

  He waved a hand. “It’s just a gift.”

  “I don’t mean the present, though that is very nice.”

  He looked confused. “Then what do you mean?”

  “Devonsgate told me we were staying in.”

  He still looked confused. “Yes, for tonight.”

  She stilled. “What?”

  “I thought we’d stay in tonight.”

  “Just this evening?”

  He frowned. “I’m sure there will be others, too. Why?”

  A cold hand clenched her heart. “You have not changed your mind? You still feel it is appropriate for you to wander from gaming hell to gaming hell and leave me at home?”

  He looked blank. “What does that have to do with…Fiona, I thought you’d be pleased with the present.”

  She stood and marched to where her robe lay, dropped the towel to the floor, and yanked on the robe. “You cannot buy my approval with a mere present.”

  “I didn’t mean that. I mean, I didn’t think a present would hurt anything, though I didn’t think you’d—Damn it, Fiona, do not do this!”

  She pulled the robe tight. “There’s nothing to do, my lord. You’ve made yourself perfectly clear.” She crossed to the bellpull and yanked it forcefully.