A Question for the Ages (Questions for a Highlander Book 7)

by Angeline Fortin

  Chapter 15

  A few sparse weeks more and Harry’s approval of this sham of a marriage will no longer be required. Mother continues to insist it is what’s best for me. I refuse to gain my majority and the right to marry by my own choice only to have that decision taken from me.

  ~ from the diary of Piper Brudenall, January 1893

  “You’re going to wear a hollow in the ground as deep as this trough,” Albert grumbled, as Piper paced a short stretch near the paddock.

  Perching herself on the top rung of the pasture fence with her heels hooked on the one below, she propped her elbows on her knees and watched as he pumped more water into the trough. Better than scanning the drive in anticipation of Connor’s return. Like a watched pot coming to boil, he wasn’t likely to appear under a vigilant eye.

  “What could be keeping him?”

  She’d awaited the results of his excursion into the village with far better patience earlier in the day. After pacing a path into the rug at her cottage, she decided to seek out her answers at the stables. It had been a surprise to discover he hadn’t yet returned.

  The younger stable lads filled buckets from the trough for each stall in the stables. Besides Dandy and Connor’s horse, who she’d discovered was simply called Horse, Harry’s team of four matched bays were currently housed within along with his personal mount, a half dozen Thoroughbreds he’d once raced, and all of the work teams kept to plow the fields.

  She’d already fed and groomed Dandy herself. That done, she’d lent a hand with the others to pass the time. Waiting. As she’d waited all day for some word from him, not solely about the outcome of his trip into the village. For some reason, Piper thought Connor might conjure other reasons to seek her out after their passionate encounter in the tack room.

  The long tense hours had only served to prove that patience was not her forte.

  “What could be—”

  “He’ll be here when he gets here and not a moment before,” Albert grumbled in response to her fourth, or perhaps fifth, reiteration of the question.

  Piper wrinkled her nose. “I’m merely speculating. You said he left some hours ago. I wouldn’t think an interrogation should take so long.”

  Her stomach grumbled with hunger for tea time had passed. Or perhaps it was anxiety over what Connor would learn from Mr. Granger that gnawed at her. She’d spent a sleepless night turning it over in her mind and knew confessing the whole truth to him had become a necessity. She’d come to the manor earlier that morning hoping to catch him before the days’ work began but had missed him. Hopefully, she’d have the opportunity to unburden herself before he discovered the truth from another.

  As soon as he told her what happened with the constable. Yes, then she would tell him.

  If he ever returned.

  “What do you suppose—”

  Albert cast her a glower that sealed her lips then shifted his gaze beyond her with an expression of relief. “At least I’ll not hear that question again today.” He pointed. “Here he comes.”

  A mumbled at last followed. Piper hardly heard it. Her eyes and attention were fully on Connor as he cantered up the drive. Most days he wore simple work clothes or a collarless shirt with a vest over it. At best, a jacket and tie as he had the previous day. Today, he wore a divinely well-cut suit of charcoal gray wool. The snug jacket hugged his shoulders as the trousers did his thighs. She could see a black vest with narrow lapels beneath it, and the high, starched points of his white shirt collar. He’d even added a gold-chained watch fob, an accessory she hadn’t yet seen him sport. He appeared every inch the nobleman he was.

  Smoothing her hands down the front of her skirt, she was glad she’d thought to don something more flattering than a plain black skirt and white blouse. She thought she saw his countenance light up beneath the brim of his hat when he saw her.

  Perhaps it was wishful thinking. It could be a scowl. Or worse, if he’d learned the truth.

  He drew his horse to a halt and dismounted, handing the reins off to Albert, who took them and departed. Sweeping off his hat, Connor went to the trough and cupped some water in his hands to wash the dust from the road off his face.

  “What happened?”

  “Have ye nae greeting to welcome me home?” he asked, water dripping from the end of his nose. “Or that cup of tea ye promised before the questioning is set upon me?”

  Piper frowned, prepared to argue before his brow rose to halt her. “My apologies for my impatience. It’s been a long day, and frankly, I was unable to rest well last night.”

  “Ye needn’t fret about Granger, lass. He’ll disrupt yer sleep nae more.”

  “Mr. Granger was not the problem.”

  Drawing a handkerchief from his pocket, Connor dried his face. He sensed she was waiting for him to comment upon her statement. He wasn’t about to tell her he’d had a great deal more than trouble with the same. Unslaked desire had kept him tossing and turning the long night through.

  “Offer me some refreshment ‘ere I take to that pump, lass, and I’ll share what I discovered along the way.”

  “Would you care to join me for tea, my lord?” She put a slight emphasis on the last words as she dipped a mocking curtsey. “I did have a dual purpose in waiting for you here. I thought I’d show you the way myself.”

  The gesture could have meant any number of things. An eagerness to see him, or the need to make sure he didn’t lose his nerve and fail to show up at her door, for example. Either would have been correct, but Connor knew the deed for what it was.

  A show of trust.

  He had a great many questions of his own hovering on the tip of his tongue. Many roused by Granger and some by Temple. Rather than pummel her with a barrage of them, he decided to put them aside for the time being. Given the chance, the trust she showed now would expand to truths. She’d put a great deal of confidence in him with her invitation. He wasn’t inclined to discard it like so much rubbish, no matter the personal cost.

  And it would cost him.

  Had he been thinking logically, he would have declined her invitation to tea last night. Or, knowing what awaited him, sent his regrets this afternoon. Instead, he’d left Temple to continue their interrogation so that he could see her. Too bad for him he hadn’t considered that he’d be facing another test akin to the trials of Hercules. Keeping his head and resisting his baser urges would require feats of strength and heroism he feared he didn’t possess.

  The first test came in doing nothing more arduous than admiring her. Even a cold splash of water hadn’t been able to cool the ardor that licked at him the moment he saw her. He’d been faced with the option to douse himself or bend her back over the paddock fence and kiss her senseless.

  She was a bonny sight. Not a bit of black to be seen again today beyond her neatly coiffed hair. Like most of her clothes, her teal velvet walking dress was snug, as if she’d grown since it was made—which she quite likely had—nevertheless, the deep color somehow brought out a similar vibrant shade in her eyes. The wide collar and peplum flounce around the bottom of her jacket were embroidered with an ivy pattern of glass and silver beads. The cuffs of the sleeves and split front of her skirt glistened with the same.

  She looked lovely, elegant, and entirely too delicious.

  His regard must have relayed some measure of his lustful thoughts. A delicate blush warmed her pale cheeks, and she cast her eyes down with a smile. Sweet ingénue, the lass wouldn’t last a second in a London ballroom where half the men would entertain thoughts far more lascivious than his.

  Unable to maintain his resolve not to touch her, he took her gloved hand in his and kissed it. “How bonny ye are, lass. Too lovely for the eyes of mortal men.”

  Her cheeks gained a fraction more pink, however, it was her lush red lips parting in a smile that nearly did him in. And they hadn’t even walked a step beyond the watchful eyes of the stable boys as yet.

  He cocked an elbow in her direction with a hint of challenge.
“Shall we?”

  Piper slipped her hand into the crook of his arm and guided him to a gravel lane forking off the northwest corner of the stable yard. The lane that led to the elusive location of her home. She couldn’t know of the dozens of times he’d trod that path and its many branches over the last few months, hoping to happen upon her. How he’d followed it until it faded into the grassy void of the fields beyond.

  He’d walked it with anticipation then. Today, it might well have been a walk to the gallows, although, the only death he dreaded was the demise of his chivalry. She’d proven herself a nearly undeniable temptation the previous night. It had taken all of his strength to walk away from her.

  They strolled in silence for some ways. His attention shifted from the path ahead then down at her, fearing on some level that she might lose faith in him and bolt at any moment. They passed the dairy and she directed him toward an obscure footpath to the north.

  A sense of solitude grew with each step. There was nothing to break the silence around them except the sweep of their shoes on the compacted dirt path. Not a bird call or the scurry of small animals through the trees. Nothing beyond the growing chill of an autumn evening.

  Though he was anything but cold.

  “Granger wouldnae identify his employer,” he said at length, when it became clear she wasn’t going to initiate conversation. Whether she was nervous or content in the silence was of no consequence. He had to say something to break the heady intimacy closing in around them. “Spent more time complaining about his nose than offering anything new. Neither bribery nor other persuasion would change his mind. He’s well paid to keep his mouth shut. We did determine, though, that the threat of the gun was nothing more than that. Motivation for Miss Langston to answer his questions.”

  “Which were?”

  “As we suspected, to ascertain yer identity.”

  At least Piper needn’t worry that Jane’s safety would be threatened, though if Mr. Granger was one of many with the same mission, her friend’s patience might well be. And if more like him were to follow in his wake, more than Piper’s worries would be exposed.

  “What will you do with him?”

  “Dinnae fash, lass. I’m nae murderer. Alas, I’m nae inclined to let the constable hold him, either.” A smile played about his lips. “Granger is going to be possessed of a sudden, undeniable urge to holiday in the north isles of the Shetlands.”

  “The Shetlands? You mean north of Scotland?”

  “Aye. Terrible choice, of course. Miserable weather and the like. I should hate it if he found himself on one of the smaller, uninhabited islands this time of year. Might be a long winter before any fisherman happened by.”

  “That’s kidnapping.”

  Connor shrugged as if the nuances of felonious activity were of little import. Knowing he was willing to go to such lengths to ensure her safety warmed her heart. More than it already was.

  “As I said, I dinnae want the fellow released before I’m ensured that ye’re safely away. Arrangements will need to be made. In the meantime, ye’ll no’ set a foot into the village.”

  Piper nodded in concession. In all honesty, she’d rather not set a foot outside her cottage without a guard until they left.

  A little shiver shook her. Without missing a step, he slipped off his coat and draped it around her shoulders. It carried the heat of his body and the intoxicating scent of him. All the reasons she’d been waiting on tenterhooks at the stables faded away. All she could think of now was him. His deep, soul-shattering kisses that had contributed to her restless night. He’d shown her the difference between desire and passion last night. One wanting, the other consuming. Knowing there was so much more, imagining what it might be, she’d been left hot and achy, unable to find a comfortable position.

  If she were to get the answers to one of those reasons she hadn’t been able to find peaceful sleep, there was a chance the other might follow.

  They took another fork to the left, leading them into the more heavily wooded portion of the forest. Connor tried to focus on their journey. The sun had descended behind the trees, leaving the trail cast in dark shadows. This time of day, if one didn’t know it was there, it would be easy enough to miss.

  “He offered nothing else then?”

  At the next junction, they again went to the left.

  “He was unwilling to fill in the blanks despite the…er, encouragement I offered.”

  When confronted by a trio of options ahead, Piper steered him along the center one. They’d been walking no more than ten or fifteen minutes when she stopped.

  It took him a moment to understand why. Nestled amid the trees, virtually obscured by overgrown ivy, brush, and the low-hanging branches of a willow, sat a small cottage. Here and there bits of whitewashed stone peeked through the foliage, along with a pair of windows. A cluster of flowering bushes marked the solid oak door. The thick thatched roof allowed it to blend seamlessly into its surroundings. Little wonder he hadn’t found it.

  “Connor, I may be able to—”

  “Is this it?” he asked at the same time.

  “Yes.”

  “My apologies for interrupting, lass. Ye were saying?”

  Lifting her free hand, she raked her fingernails along his scruffy jaw. The sensation brought to his mind the stroke of her tongue tracing the same path. Her eyes explored him with the persuasive power of a physical caress. The lass couldn’t know what she did to him.

  Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips. “I was going to say…rather, I didn’t get a chance to mention it last night in the tack room before we were interrupted…I want you, too. Very much.”

  Piper turned to the door, leaving him to gawk after her. He had suspected. Feared. Hearing it aloud nearly undid him.

  She meant to seduce him.

  Coming here had been a blunder of colossal proportions.

  He’d known the moment she extended then invitation. Had dwelled on it since he’d parted from her. Had been torn by anticipation and dread all through the day. God knew as well as he, he ought not be left alone with her.

  With a prayer on his lips, he pleaded to the heavens for the strength he knew he did not possess.

  Opening the door, she stepped inside and glanced back at him. “Are you coming?”

  Chapter 16

  I must do something. Run perhaps? But where? The duke has said there is nowhere to run where he would not find me. I’m so dreadfully afraid that he is right.

  ~ from the diary of Piper Brudenall, January 1893

  For a moment, Piper thought he would refuse to enter. His indecision might have been diverting if she weren’t on pins and needles herself.

  For many reasons.

  Right now, she found she had no desire to mark the commencement of what she hoped to be a delightful evening with a truth that would ruin it for them both.

  “Home, sweet home.” He ducked his head to enter.

  Yes. Though not for long. For the first time, the thought didn’t terrify her. There was more, much more. To life. To other matters as well. She wanted Connor to be the one to draw her down a path far different than the one she’d just led him down. It was something she wanted more than she could remember wanting anything in a long while. To have him take her to that haven, a place filled with ecstasy.

  “Edith, I’m back,” she called, and physically felt some of the tension leave Connor.

  “There you are, m’—” The maid’s eyes widened in shock, glued to Connor. “—M-m-Mrs. Mil-Milbourne. You’ve brought a guest.”

  “Connor, this is Edith.” She should have warned the maid but had been too nervous herself to manage it. “Edith, this is Mr. MacKintosh. The new marchioness’s brother from Scotland.”

  He shook the maid’s hand gallantly, leaving her more agape than before. “My pleasure, Edith. Ye seem rather familiar. Have we met before?”

  Edith’s gaze shifted from Piper to Connor and back, searching for an answer.

  “She sh
ould,” Piper answered for her. “Edith works at the manor several days a week. I haven’t the work here to keep her full time nor the room for her to live in.”

  The maid nodded with excessive enthusiasm. Before she could inadvertently divulge the secrets Piper hadn’t as yet explained to Connor herself, she sent her to the kitchen with a mission. “A tea tray, please, Edith. I left water in the kettle. And some of those raspberry scones I made for Mr. MacKintosh.”

  The maid bobbed a curtsy. “Yes, m-m-ma’am.”

  When she disappeared into the kitchen, Piper shed Connor’s coat and unbuttoned her jacket. “Will you help me, Connor?”

  With visible reluctance, he dragged the short coat off her shoulders. His throat bobbed as his eyes drifted down. Her bosom strained the buttons of her blouse.

  She turned to hang it on a hook along with hers.

  “We’re still on Aylesbury’s land here, are we no’? Do ye lease this house from him?”

  A month ago—a week!—the question would have sent her into vapors. The truth wouldn’t matter in a few days more. Even if it put a damper on the night, there were things she needed to tell him if he were to give her such an opening.

  “In a manner of speaking…”

  Losing her nerve, she tugged off her gloves, and he did the same. She caught his hand and traced a fingertip over the crusty cuts on his knuckles. “I meant to ask last night, how did you learn to fight as you did yesterday? I’ve never seen anyone move like that.”

  He grinned at the backward compliment. “It was nae lie I offered Granger at the time. With eight older brothers and nae mother’s skirts to hide behind, I learned early on to be quick. It was my only advantage.”

  “I doubt that,” Piper murmured, as Connor walked deeper into the cottage, circling the parlor. The muscles of his back, shoulders, and thighs shifted enticingly beneath his clothes with each step. He moved like a jungle cat on the prowl, true. She’d seen enough to know it wasn’t his sole advantage. Especially against her defenses. “Your mother wouldn’t protect you from them?”