Caught by the Scot

by Karen Hawkins

  “Aye. The more time Miss Cumberbatch-Snowe spends in the company of her squire, the more she’ll come to realize he’s nae the paragon she thinks. So while you’re putting the horses away, be sure to tell everyone who will listen that you’ve come a long way already this morning and the horses need rest. Just to be certain our story holds water.”

  “Aye, aye, Cap’n,” Spencer said. “Anything else?”

  “For you, aye. Once you’re done in the stables, come find me in the inn. I’ve one more task just for you.”

  Spencer looked intrigued, and agreed quickly. Soon the men disappeared with the coach into the stables.

  Smilwing to himself and satisfied he was well on his way to repairing his situation, Conner returned to the inn.

  8

  Theodora picked up the gown and shook it out. It was one of her favorites, a blue traveling gown of light wool trimmed with pale green piping, with a double row of delicate flounces decorating the hemline. Or it had been one of her favorites.

  One of the inn’s few maids had supposedly cleaned the gown and laid it out to dry in front of a fire. A smoky fire, from the smell of it, for it reeked of damp ashes. Worse, though the maid had sworn she’d washed the gown thoroughly, there were still large, muddy stains, and the bottom ruffle had come loose and hung limply.

  “Ruined.” Theodora looked from the smoky gown to the one she wore, which was the same one she’d worn yesterday. It was hideously wrinkled and just as mud stained. “At least the one I’m wearing doesn’t smell like the bottom of an ash bin.” Sighing, she carried the dress to the window, hoping some fresh air might eliminate the smoky scent. She stepped gingerly, although her ankle barely ached as she walked now, which was a relief. At least that’s better.

  She pulled back the lace curtains and opened the window latch and spread her gown over the sill, anchoring it in place with a heavy, pewter candleholder. The fresh breeze stirred the gown as well as her hair as she looked at the inn yard below. Conner’s coach, gleaming and impressive, had arrived not a half hour ago. It was a truly beautiful equipage, pulled by four matching gray horses. Now, that’s the sort of coach one should elope in.

  But why had Conner offered them his coach? “It’s a trick, I’m sure of it,” she murmured. “But what could he possibly hope to gain?”

  Whatever it was, it wouldn’t work. She wouldn’t let it. Lance was the kindest, gentlest man she’d ever met, worth a dozen charming, brown-haired, blue-eyed almost-pirates, who knew how to look at a woman as if she were his to claim, and whose heated, head-swirling kisses made her—

  She clamped a lid on her thoughts. That’s what got me into this mess to begin with. He’s an impudent, disrespectful mess of a man. He even eavesdropped on my conversation with Lance! Had Conner not made a noise, she’d have never known it. And his graceful bow and twinkling grin on being caught had done nothing to soothe her ire. I hope he heard all the faradiddles I told Lance. It would serve Conner right if he were embarrassed and—

  A soft knock sounded at her door. Ah, my tea at last! “Come in!”

  The door opened, and someone, a male by the sound of it, cleared his throat.

  She dropped the curtain and turned.

  An awkward-looking youth stood in the doorway, and she recognized him as Conner’s footman. “Oh! You’re Spencer, correct?”

  The young man flushed a bright pink, as if she’d just paid him the highest compliment possible. “Aye, miss. The cap’n sent me. He suggested I might be of some use.”

  “Oh, he did, did he?”

  She hadn’t meant to sound ungracious, but her sharp tone made her visitor flush an even deeper red. He backed away. “Och, perhaps now is nae a guid time. I can come back when—”

  “No, no! I’m sorry. I was just in a foul mood. It’s kind of you to offer to help, although I’m not sure what you could do.”

  “The cap’n said your clothing took a spill.” The young man’s gaze moved to the gown now fluttering in the open window. “I might be able to set your gowns to rights.”

  “Could you?” She couldn’t hide her hope.

  “Och, miss, I’m the bos’n’s mate.” He straightened, obviously proud of his position. “I take care of the equipment on ship, including the sails, which is why I’m rather handy with a needle. When we’re on land, I take care of the cap’n’s clothing, too.”

  “Ah, so you’re the one responsible for Mr. Douglas’s starched cravats and silk waistcoats.”

  Stewart grinned. “Aye, and his linens, fine breeches and kilts, and the like. I polish his boots, too, and see that everything is mended and pressed. He’s a bit of a beau.”

  “That must be a lot to keep up with, in addition to your other duties.”

  “Och, I dinnae mind, miss; ’tis the cap’n. And when the cap’n looks guid, we all look guid. I daresay that’s why he sent me to you. He knows the value of such things.”

  As do I. “I must warn you, it will take a lot to repair and clean my gowns. If you cannot, I fear I will just have to make do.”

  The man’s expression grew solemn. “Making do is never pleasant, is it, miss?”

  “Never,” she agreed. “Sadly, it seems I have been doing a lot of that lately.”

  “Then you will nae be oot if you allow me to try.” Spencer nodded to the gown fluttering in the open window. “May I?”

  Theodora hesitated. She desperately wanted to accept Spencer’s help, but feared that if she did, she would end up owing Conner even more than she did now.

  The smoky scent of the gown wafting on the breeze made up her mind for her. She crossed to the window and gathered the offending garment, and handed it to Spencer. “Yes, please. The maid swears she washed it, but there are mud stains, and a tear, and— Well, you can see for yourself. My other gowns are still in the kitchen, most likely spread before a smoking fire.”

  Stewart carefully folded the gown over his arm as if it were made of gossamer. “Never fear, miss. I will do what I can.”

  “Thank you. I wish you had more time, but as the captain’s coach has arrived, we’ll be leaving soon.”

  Stewart’s expression froze a bit.

  “We’re not leaving?”

  He hesitated, then said in a guarded manner, “The horses must be rested before we leave, so ’twill most likely be tomorrow before we leave. But that’s a guid thing, for ’twill give me more time to see to your gowns.” He smoothed a hand over the gown she’d given him, looking at it with an expert eye. “I could have this one ready in aboot two hours, mayhap three.”

  “Really?”

  “Aye. I’ll work oot the stains, then wash and rinse it again. After that, I’ll use an iron to dry it.” He examined the torn ruffle. “And this will take nae time at all. All told, three hours at most.”

  “Thank you. I would be most grateful.”

  “My pleasure, miss!”

  As he turned to go, a thought hit Theodora. “You said we would leave after the horses rested. Who is ‘we’?”

  The look on the footman’s face told her everything she needed to know. So that was Conner’s plan. “Mr. Douglas is planning on going with the squire and me.”

  Looking miserable, Spencer backed up. “I would nae know, miss. The cap’n dinnae always share what he’s planning.”

  She followed the footman into the hallway. “But you must know where he will be tomorrow.”

  Spencer gulped, holding her gown in front of him as if it were a shield. “I cannae say, miss.”

  “Cannot or will not?”

  “I cannae,” he repeated stubbornly. “Mayhap you should speak to the cap’n.”

  She would indeed. Borrowed coach or no, cleaned gowns or no, he was not going to intrude on her elopement any further.

  But her fight with Conner had nothing to do with this poor young man, so she smiled and said, “You’re right; I’ll speak with him. Meanwhile, whatever you can do for my poor gowns will be most appreciated.”

  “Very good, miss.” The foo
tman bowed and, looking as if he’d been released from a lion’s claws, hurried away.

  Theodora closed the door, and leaned against it. So that was why Conner had offered his coach—as an excuse to accompany them! She could only imagine how awkward that would be; it had been difficult enough having to face him at dinner last night. She’d been so aware of his intense stare that she’d scarcely been able to eat. Well, she had a surprise for Mr. Conner Douglas—she was onto his tricks and stratagems, and she would not fall victim to them. Her only concern was that his actions indicated that he believed there was still some hope she would eventually accept his suit, a sad misconception she needed to quash immediately. There was no future for them, and the sooner he accepted that, the better for everyone.

  But first . . . she looked down at her rumpled frock and thought of the clean, repaired gown Spencer had promised. She’d confront Conner after she’d bathed and was properly attired. She’d need all of her wits sharpened and ready before she undertook the impossible: convincing Conner Douglas he was wrong.

  Two and a half hours later, Theodora felt far more herself, having scrubbed away the grime of the trip in a tub so small, her knees had almost touched her chin. But the water had been hot and clean, and the innkeeper’s wife had miraculously produced a bar of lavender soap. The scent had soothed Theodora’s worn soul.

  To her pleasant surprise, Spencer had done much more than wash, mend, and press her gown; he’d also prepared a chemise, a petticoat, and her best stockings. His repairs had been faultless, too, his stitching so tiny she could barely see it. For the first time in two days Theodora was freshly and properly attired, luxuriating in the newly laundered muslin against her skin as she pinned her almost-dry hair in place.

  She eyed herself in the mirror, pleased to note that, except for the scrape on her jaw, she no longer appeared so abused by life. Now all she had to do was put Conner firmly in his place and send him on his way, and her life would be back on track. Once he was out of the way, she would press Lance to leave immediately.

  Wishing her heart didn’t race at the thought of confronting Conner, she straightened her shoulders, ready to fight the good fight. She opened the door and turned into the hallway—and walked straight into his arms.

  Conner couldn’t believe his good fortune. Still preoccupied with his conversation with MacLeish on ways to lengthen their journey to Gretna Green, Conner hadn’t been paying the least heed to his progress down the hall. Peering at tiny roads on faded maps did that to a person. After much discussion, he and MacLeish had decided that instead of going directly north, they would turn west and take the spider’s web of roads up the coast. It would add at least a week to the journey, and Conner was confident that would be enough time for him to convince Thea she was making an error in marrying the squire.

  He’d been returning to his room to change for dinner when Thea had thrown open her door and rushed straight into his arms.

  She looked far more like her usual self now that she was in a freshly laundered and pressed gown, her hair upswept and silky. He took a deep breath, tightening his arms as he inhaled the beguiling scent of lavender soap and newly ironed muslin.

  Thea stared up at him, her eyes widened, her lips curved in a shocked “O.”

  God, but she had the most delicious lips, plump and pink, and he fought the powerful desire to kiss her thoroughly. How in the hell have I resisted her all these years? It’s as if I’ve been completely blind to her.

  Their gazes locked, and her lips parted, and he found himself bending down to taste those lips, to savor their softness and—

  She gasped and jerked free, pressing back against the wall. Had the hallway been wider, that might have been a significant step. As it was, all he had to do to close the gap was place his palm on the doorframe behind her, and lean forward. He smiled, his body humming with awareness, and he wondered if hers was doing the same. “If you wished for a hug, you had but to ask, lass.”

  She sent him a black look, rubbing her arm as if his touch had burned her. “I wasn’t looking for a hug or an embrace or anything else. But . . . now that you’re here, we need to talk.”

  “I’m listening.” He shifted the slightest bit forward, his knee only an inch from hers.

  She moved a little to one side, away from him. Her cheeks were deliciously pink as she said in a breathless tone, “I’m glad I found you alone, for I don’t wish Lance to know of this.”

  Conner was glad she’d found him alone, too. Very glad.

  She took a deep breath, which had the fortunate effect of pressing her breasts into the pleated front of her gown.

  Conner had always considered Thea attractive, and he’d been surprised to learn from kissing her that she was damned sensual, as well. He looked at her with fresh eyes, noting that her figure was lushly curved, her shoulders delightfully set with the most intriguing hollows that cried out for further exploration, while her breasts were the perfect size to fill a man’s hands. His palms itched to—

  “I’m not sure where to begin, but . . .” She wet her bottom lip as if nervous.

  His gaze locked upon her generous mouth. It begged to be tasted, and he fought to keep from leaning in to do just that.

  But now was not the time, he reminded himself with regret. He needed to assuage her suspicions, not add to them. So with great disappointment, he dropped his hand back to his side and shifted to give her more room. “Oot with it, then. What has you racing from your bedchamber to find me?”

  Her jaw firmed and she suddenly looked like the Thea he knew well. “I know why you offered your coach to us. You think to use that as an excuse to join us on our trip.”

  “Join you on your elopement? I’d nae thought of that, but if you want me to join you, odd as that seems, I suppose I could—”

  “No! Of course I don’t wish you to travel with us!”

  Conner had to fight to keep from grinning. “But you said—”

  “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

  “Fine, I will nae travel with you. I had nae intention of it to begin with. Are you happy now?”

  “No.” Her gaze narrowed. “There’s one more thing. And I need to make this very clear to you, so there can be no question. No matter what you do or say, no matter what schemes you have planned, I am going to marry the squire. And if, by some unforeseen happenstance, I do not, I still would not marry you. If you want your family fortune saved from the Campbells, then you’d best find another woman to wed.”

  He raised his brows. “Guid lord, that’s a bit harsh, lass.”

  “It’s honest.”

  Even though she said all the right things to send him away, her gaze kept resting on his mouth as if she was remembering their kiss. Aye, lass, I cannae forget it, either. “Verrah weel. If this is how things are to be, then I suppose there’s nae need for me to continue scheming, as you call it.”

  “Exactly. Lance and I will depart first thing in the morning. You will not.”

  “Fine, but I’m nae staying here in this pitiful inn. You would nae be so cruel. Have you seen the tub? ’Tis made for bathing small dogs, and perhaps a chicken now and then.”

  Her lips quirked and he thought he’d won a laugh, but she fought it off to say in a severe tone, “Don’t be ridiculous. You don’t have to stay here, and you know it. I don’t care where you go, as long as you don’t go with us.”

  He sighed. “Fine. I’ll go my own way. But I should point oot that it would be safer if I rode along, in case there are brigands.”

  “No, thank you. We’ll be fine without your help.” Her gaze narrowed and she tapped his chest. “Admit it: you lent us your coach just so you could manipulate us.”

  He captured her hand and pressed a kiss to her fingers, his eyes twinkling warmly. “I’m admitting nae such thing.” He turned her hand over and kissed her palm. “But neither am I denying it.”

  Theodora yanked her hand from his grasp, her skin tingling from his touch, her heart thudding wildly as
her fingers curled over his kiss. “You don’t need to say a word, because I know what you were doing. Lance will feel beholden to you for allowing us the use of your coach, and then you’d suggest traveling with us, and he would feel obligated to agree.”

  Conner threw up his hands. “You found me oot, lass, but I’m a mon of my word. When you and the squire leave tomorrow morning, you’ll do it alone.”

  She eyed him suspiciously. “And you won’t attempt to win an invitation from poor Lance to join us?”

  “I will nae.”

  “Oh.” His capitulation threw her off balance. “Good. That’s— I appreciate your cooperation. Thank you.”

  “Of course.” His vivid gaze brushed over her face, lingering on her mouth. “Which means I’ve a huge task ahead of me.”

  “A task?”

  “I must find a lady to wife before the clock strikes the magic hour and the Douglas fortune ends up in Campbell coffers.”

  She blinked. “Is there no other way to meet the conditions of your sister’s will?”

  “My brother-in-law was most definite aboot it. We do this to the letter, or the funds are gone. And if ’tis nae you I’m to wed, then ’twill have to be another.”

  She hadn’t thought about that. She should say something comforting like I know you’ll find a wonderful wife, or Best of luck, and return to the safety of her room. But somehow the words that tumbled from her mouth were, “Do you have someone in mind?”

  “Nae yet. I’ll have to think on it.” He sighed heavily. “I only hope you’ve nae ruined me for the lot of them. I’ll be constantly comparing them, and they will fall short.” He returned his hand to the wall near her head, and leaned forward to whisper in her ear, “Especially when it comes to kisses. There, you exceed all dreams.”

  God, he smelled so good, of sandalwood and fresh pine trees. She tried not to breathe more deeply than usual, and failed.

  “ ’Twill be a difficult task to find a lass like you.” His warm breath brushed her cheek. “But if I must settle, then settle I will.”