The Highlander's Princess Bride

by Vanessa Kelly

  “Thank you,” she said. “In any event, that very evening, Mr. Fletcher took advantage of the fact that Lady Welgate was attending a dinner party at a neighboring estate.” She huffed out a bitter laugh. “I’d assumed he’d gone with her.”

  Relieved that she’d made the decision to leave, she’d celebrated with a small glass of sherry from the bottle she kept in her room—a present from one of her uncles the previous Christmas. Victoria only ever indulged on her half day off—one glass in the evening, as a treat.

  She drew in a breath, steadying herself for the next part of the story. “It was quite late. The children were asleep in the nursery, and the staff were downstairs in the servants’ hall or gone early to bed. I’d borrowed a few books from the library, and I thought to return them while I was thinking about it. I was coming down from the nursery wing, which has a separate staircase to the first floor. Unfortunately, Mr. Fletcher was coming up that very same staircase.”

  “Did he have any cause to be coming up that particular staircase?” Aden asked in a chilling voice.

  “He did not. That part of the manor is reserved for the children, the two nursemaids, and me.”

  “So the lout was deliberately seeking you out,” Vivien said with disgust.

  Victoria would never forget the horror that had surged in her when she saw him on the landing. Although she’d carried only one candle, a full moon had shone through the large window above the staircase, illuminating the flare of lust in Fletcher’s eyes. He’d clearly been on his way to her room.

  “When he saw me, he laughed,” she said. “I told him to get out of my way, and that I would scream if he came any closer.”

  “Surely someone would have come to help if you had,” Chloe said, her normally serene features pulled tight with distress.

  “Yes, if they’d heard. But it was mostly an empty threat, which he knew. The door at the top of the stairs was shut, and I was too far from the servants’ hall for anyone to hear a call for help.”

  “If the bastard wasn’t already dead,” Aden growled, “I’d rip out his throat with my own damn hands.”

  The look on her brother’s face suggested he’d have done exactly that and not lost a moment’s sleep over it. Victoria supposed it was rather awful of her, but his outrage partly dispelled the chill that had settled around her like a casket of ice since that terrible night. That Aden could do something like that wasn’t a question. That he would do it for her was nevertheless rather amazing.

  Dominic crossed his legs and rested a hand on his knee. “A laudable if rather gruesome sentiment, Aden. Fortunately, it’s an unnecessary one, since Victoria ably extricated herself from a very dangerous situation.”

  She choked back a spurt of nervous laughter. “That’s one way of putting it.”

  “It’s the best way to put it,” Chloe said. “So, Fletcher attacked you on the stairs, and then you struggled. I hate to embarrass you, my love, but did he injure you in any way?”

  Victoria pressed her eyelids shut as she flashed back to the awful interlude. “Not really. He ripped my bodice and scratched me a bit, but that was the worst of it.”

  Aden breathed out a rather shocking oath as even Sir Dominic’s calm expression disappeared under a barely contained fury. Victoria was exceedingly happy that both men were on her side. It was unlikely that anyone on the receiving end of such intense fury would remain in one piece for very long.

  She managed a tight smile. “Fortunately, I was able to give him a sharp elbow to the chin as he took me down to the floor. He fell to the side instead of on top of me, which enabled me to scramble to my feet. He was so furious that I resisted. At that moment I thought he actually wished to . . .”

  She couldn’t say the words, momentarily swamped by terrifying memories that flickered through her mind. She’d been mere moments away from a brutal assault and possibly even death. It had taken every particle of strength to push back against a fear that had threatened to turn her limbs into leaden, useless appendages.

  “It’s all right, dear,” Chloe said, taking her hand again. “He can never hurt you again.”

  “Yes, I saw to that, didn’t I?” Victoria’s little attempt at insouciance fell horribly flat.

  “You don’t have to finish if you don’t want to,” Vivien said in a warmly sympathetic voice.

  Victoria mentally shook herself. The deed was done and she was safe, at least for now. There was no point in indulging in self-pity or guilt.

  “No, I’m fine,” she said. “Fletcher grabbed for my legs, but I was able to step back and give him a good shove with my foot. The next thing I knew he was tumbling head-over-heels down the staircase.”

  It had all happened so quickly. A few moments after she pushed him, Fletcher lay in an inert heap on the tile floor below, his head and neck at a hideously incorrect angle. Victoria had suspected instantly that he was dead, but had run down in the vain hope that he might have survived the fall. When she crouched over him and saw the fixed, lifeless look in his eyes, she’d come to the wrenching realization that she’d killed a man.

  A vile one, to be sure, but still a human being, one whose life she’d ended.

  “And that was it,” she awkwardly concluded. “It was over so quickly I could hardly believe it had happened.”

  “You did what you needed to do, Victoria,” Aden said gently. “Never second-guess yourself on that score.”

  “Aden is correct,” Chloe said. “It’s a perfectly dreadful story, but we’re all grateful you were able to overcome him. Some women are not physically strong enough to defend themselves, or would have been paralyzed with fear.”

  “I almost was paralyzed,” Victoria confessed. “But I had the advantage of growing up in a coaching inn, where one does learn to deal with unruly or drunken males.” Her grandfather had insisted that she learn to defend herself, and she would bless his memory every day for that lesson.

  “After you ascertained that Mr. Fletcher was deceased, what did you do?” Dominic asked.

  “I ran upstairs to the nursery and woke one of the nursemaids. I told her Mr. Fletcher had suffered an accident and asked her to fetch the butler and housekeeper. Then I went to my room for a shawl to tie around my bodice.” She grimaced, recalling how disheveled she’d looked. “For all the good it did me. The nursemaid made a point of relaying her impression of my appearance in the most lurid terms to anyone who would listen.”

  “Did either the housekeeper or the butler set any store by the girl’s description?” Dominic asked.

  “No, but others in the household were only too happy to listen.”

  Lady Welgate had certainly believed the nursemaid. Her ladyship had been all too happy to listen to the girl’s version of events, one that had grown more salacious with each retelling. That particular nursemaid had never liked Victoria, accusing her more than once of “putting on airs.” It was a common complaint about governesses. They were often looked down upon by their employers and often resented by other servants for their somewhat privileged role in the household.

  “Lady Welgate arrived home shortly afterwards, did she not?” prompted Dominic. “And Lord Welgate also returned from London that evening as well?”

  Victoria nodded. “Both came home to a total uproar, I’m afraid. Two of the footmen were carrying the body upstairs to an empty bedroom when her ladyship arrived. She immediately fell into hysterics.”

  By that time Victoria had managed to change her dress and brush her hair after giving the butler and the housekeeper a quick recitation of events. Mercifully, they’d believed her. The senior staff had disliked Mr. Fletcher, although they would never have openly expressed such an opinion. When it came to running the household, Lady Welgate ruled the roost, and she’d been devoted to her brother. Complaining about his unfortunate proclivities would have only resulted in finding oneself out of a job without references.

  “You told me, however, that Lord Welgate kept his head,” Dominic said.

  “Yes. H
e convinced his wife to lie down in her room, then he sent for the magistrate. Lord Welgate made it clear to him that Mr. Fletcher had importuned me in the past, and that he did not consider me at fault in the accident.”

  Chloe let out a relieved sigh. “I shudder to think what might have happened without Lord Welgate’s support.”

  “I owe him a great debt of gratitude,” Victoria said. “Initially, the magistrate was not inclined in my favor, since Lady Welgate was so insistent that her brother’s death was a deliberate act on my part.”

  “How did she arrive at such a ridiculous conclusion?” Aden asked.

  Victoria glanced down at her folded hands, a mortified heat rising in her cheeks. “She accused me of trying to seduce her brother in the hopes of luring him into marriage. According to her, when he refused me, I murdered him out of spite.”

  “That is insane,” Vivien exclaimed. “Why would she invent such a tale?”

  “Lady Welgate was several years older than her brother,” Victoria said. “Their mother died when Mr. Fletcher was quite young, and her ladyship all but raised him. She was devoted to him and devastated by his loss.”

  “Her grief is understandable,” Chloe said in a clipped voice. “But that’s no reason to accuse you of murder, against all evidence.”

  “It could have been worse,” Dominic said. “Despite his wife’s accusations, Lord Welgate allowed Victoria to send me an express, asking for assistance. That was quick thinking, my dear,” he added, giving Victoria a warm smile.

  “I didn’t know to whom else to turn,” she confessed. “My family wouldn’t have any idea how to help me in a situation like this.”

  Actually, they would be mortified by her predicament. Her mother’s family held a degree of affection for her, especially Aunt Rebecca, who’d essentially raised her. But they also found her existence rather an embarrassment, and would not welcome being pulled into the middle of a scandal.

  “I was happy to help,” Dominic said.

  Thankfully, he’d arrived at Welgate Manor less than a day after the incident. Dominic and Lord Welgate had disappeared into the study, along with the local magistrate and the surgeon. They emerged with the agreement that Fletcher had been the victim of an unfortunate fall, and that Victoria was free to leave with Dominic. Lady Welgate’s shrieks of rage had all but rattled the windows, but Lord Welgate had stood firm. It was clear he wished to avoid the scandal resulting from a public inquest that would expose his brother-in-law’s sordid behavior.

  “Then everything’s all cleared up,” Vivien said with a relieved sigh. “Splendid.”

  “Not entirely, according to the letter I received from Lord Welgate this morning,” Dominic said.

  “Fletcher’s father arrived at Welgate Manor last night, and apparently, he’s very unhappy with the magistrate’s decision,” Victoria said, trying to sound calmer than she felt. “He and his daughter believe I should be arrested for murder.”

  Aden scowled. “Well, that’s not going to happen.”

  She smoothed her palms over her skirt to mask the trembling of her hands. “It’s difficult not to worry, though.”

  “And I will repeat what I told you this morning, Victoria,” Dominic said. “Leave Mr. Fletcher to me. The only thing you need think about is what you want to do next.”

  Victoria had been pondering that question a great deal when she wasn’t envisioning a trip to the gallows. “I must find another position, although obviously I cannot depend on any references from Lord or Lady Welgate.”

  She’d been counting on another few years of employment to support her plan to establish her own school for girls. Her dream of independence had just receded farther into the distance.

  “Are you sure you wish to return so quickly to work?” Chloe asked. “We’d be delighted if you stayed for a nice long visit.”

  Victoria was tempted. Chloe’s serene, comfortable household could be the perfect refuge from her troubles. It had always surprised her how quietly she and Dominic lived, with very little ostentation. Most of the nobility enjoyed flaunting their wealth and extravagant lifestyles. Such was not the case with Sir Dominic Hunter, even though he was a powerful magistrate who had the ear of the Prince Regent.

  The Prince Regent.

  She’d never met her father and he’d never shown the slightest interest in knowing his daughter. Nor would he, of that she was quite certain. After all, Mamma had been nothing but a glorified barmaid. Victoria had long ago realized the folly of indulging in the belief that she had any place among the privileged classes, other than as a servant.

  “Thank you for your kind offer,” she said, “but I should find another position as quickly as possible. The sooner I can put this terrible incident behind me, the better.”

  Chloe wrinkled her nose. “Are you sure? There’s no need to rush.”

  “Absolutely not,” interjected Vivien. “You could visit with us, too. What you need is rest and a little pampering from your family.”

  “You are all incredibly kind,” Victoria said, “but you mustn’t think I’m unhappy with the idea of seeking another position. I love teaching. My greatest fear resulting from this horrible episode is that I won’t—”

  Her throat suddenly went tight. Teaching was the one thing that truly gave her a sense of purpose, challenging both mind and heart. There was nothing more satisfying than the look of joy on a little girl’s face when she read a fairy tale or nursery rhyme all by herself for the first time. It was like having the opportunity to discover the world anew through fresh eyes every day.

  Chloe picked up the half-empty glass of brandy from the low table and handed it to Victoria. “That will never happen, my dear,” she said. “Dominic and your brother will not allow it.”

  “Certainly not,” said Dominic. “But I would like to get Victoria away from London as quickly as possible.”

  Aden nodded. “Out of sight, out of mind is the best way to quell the gossip that might result from this situation.”

  Like them, Victoria knew that even the slightest hint of scandal would be a deathblow to her dreams of opening a school. Her sterling reputation was her most precious asset. If she lost that, she lost the future. Given that she was illegitimate, even with royal blood, she was already fighting with one hand tied behind her back. If Fletcher’s death were to haunt her, she was finished.

  “Then where will I go?” she asked. “Unless you have knowledge of an available position, Sir Dominic, I will have to advertise.”

  “Surely that won’t be necessary,” Vivien protested. “The last thing you need is to be pitched into another uncertain situation with a family that cannot be trusted.”

  Dominic studied Victoria with an intensity she found slightly odd. It was as if she were a vexing mathematical equation he was trying to solve.

  “As a matter of fact,” he said, “I do know of a family in need of a governess, and I think you will fit the bill. Tell me, my dear, how would you feel about spending the winter in Scotland?”

  Chapter Two

  When a bounce jolted Victoria out of a fitful doze, she barely managed not to topple off the heavily padded seat. If Captain Alec Gilbride’s luxurious carriage survived the beating from the rough road without breaking an axle or wheel, it would be miraculous. Since getting stranded in the remote Scottish countryside held no appeal, she hoped for that miracle.

  His brawny frame barely moving despite the jostling, Alec flashed her a rueful grin. “Sorry, lass. I was hoping you’d be able to catch a bit more sleep before we arrived at Castle Kinglas. But that bump almost knocked my teeth out, too.”

  Victoria swallowed a yawn before securing her bonnet more firmly on her head. It seemed like years since she’d gotten a decent night’s sleep. But there was little point in complaining, particularly since Alec and his family had fussed over her in the nicest way possible. It was no one’s fault but her own that guilt and anxiety continued to plague even her dreams.

  “I’m fine. Truly,” she said.


  She brushed aside the curtain. The views had grown increasingly wild on their trip north, with craggy mountain peaks looming on the horizon and rough, scrub-covered hills rising around the isolated road. “I just dozed off for a bit, which is a shame. I’m missing all the best scenery, I’m sure.”

  “The area around Loch Long is certainly dramatic. And I do hope you’re suitably impressed, Miss Knight, especially with our fine Scottish roads,” he said with a wink.

  She gave him a reluctant smile. “I’m sure I’ll find the views impressive once my brain stops rattling around in my skull.”

  They’d set out early this morning from Captain Gilbride’s manor house just outside Glasgow. Within a few hours, they’d left the civilized Lowlands of Scotland behind and approached the first range of mountains that signaled the entrance to the Highlands. Ever since they passed through the village of Arrochar and left the well-traveled main road, conditions had worsened, rattling her bones as well as her brains. Victoria was tempted to walk the rest of the way to Kinglas, despite the cold.

  “We’ll be there soon enough, Miss Knight,” Alec said. “And then you can have a nice cup of tea and a rest.”

  “I look forward to that more than you can imagine. And please call me Victoria. I feel certain we’ve achieved a degree of informality—not to say a camaraderie born of hardship.”

  Alec laughed. “True enough. It’s been years since I traveled in these parts. Many people go by boat when journeying up the west coast, or farther north. You can certainly see why. I think I lost a tooth when we hit that last rut.”

  “It was so kind of you, but you truly didn’t need to play escort. I’m perfectly capable of traveling by myself, as I told Sir Dominic. I feel terrible that you had to meet me in Glasgow, much less travel all this way to introduce me to the Earl of Arnprior.”

  Victoria feared she’d made a dreadful mistake when she left London, now more than a week ago. Aside from the constant cold, the long days on the road, and her perpetually damp boots, she couldn’t shake the growing sensation that she was running away. Disappearing so suddenly couldn’t help but reflect poorly on her—as if she had done something wrong. To outsiders, it would appear she was fleeing the scene of the crime.