Claiming His Highland Bride

by TERRI BRISBIN

  He held his hands up. A few leftover raindrops trickled down the brim of her hat. If he did anything to make her fall backwards off this roof, she was pulling him along with her. The pounding of her heart in her ears was so loud she didn’t hear the creak of the window as she finally nudged the stubborn sash up. Letting out a breath of relief, she closed her eyes.

  ‘You should make certain no one is about before you enter that room. Unless you would like me to use the charms you say I possess to enchant any maids that might be about.’

  Did this man ever stop talking? ‘Keep those charms tucked away. The house is vacant,’ she bit back as she climbed inside the darkened room. Stepping further inside, she left enough space for Hartwick to climb in after her.

  ‘How do you know this house is vacant?’ he asked, closing the window.

  ‘I made some enquiries.’ He didn’t need to know that Katrina had told her about it when they had been discussing the Everills. The vacant house annoyed Lady Everill, and while she was put out that a house on her street was considered undesirable, it was a godsend to Sarah. Now, if she could just make it out of the house without the Earl of Hartwick discovering why she was on Mount Street dressed in men’s attire in the first place...

  As she walked into the hallway, moonlight from the rooms on either side streamed onto the dusty floorboards. Hartwick walked quietly behind her until she opened the door leading to the servants’ staircase.

  ‘How did you know that door led to the staircase?’ he whispered.

  ‘The arrangement of the homes on this street is similar to mine and there is no need to whisper. We’re alone.’

  ‘I find it best to be safe, just in case,’ he said, close to her ear. The deep rumble of his voice sent a ripple of awareness through her. ‘There still could be someone about.’

  That gave her pause. ‘You’re saying that to frighten me.’

  ‘If I wanted to frighten you, I’d inform you of the rats that are probably scurrying around this house or spiders or any number of creatures that could fall down on us from holes in the ceiling.’

  ‘What?’ she squeaked and looked up. Her heart slowed when she spotted the ceiling was intact. She stopped dead so he walked into her.

  ‘What was that for?’ he asked.

  ‘For trying to scare me.’

  ‘Why don’t you let me go down the staircase first?’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘In the event there is someone else in the house, I believe I am more equipped to deal with them than you are.’

  ‘I may surprise you.’

  ‘Miss Forrester, tonight I’m learning you are full of surprises, but as a gentleman, I must insist.’

  The light from the dirty window across the way helped them navigate the spiral staircase. Peering over the wooden banister, Sarah could see all the way to the bottom—to the very dark bottom. Was Hartwick right? Was someone living in this house unbeknownst to the neighbours? Would it be some unwashed mountain of a man who would be angry he was discovered?

  ‘Very well,’ she whispered, ‘I’ll let you go first.’

  Down and down they went. And when they finally reached the ground floor, Sarah held him back. ‘There will be a door to the back garden nearby,’ she whispered. ‘From there it should be easy to leave through the garden gate and into the alley leading to the mews.’

  ‘I agree. Stand back while I open the door.’ Hartwick crouched and retrieved a knife from his boot. The muted light shimmered off the silver blade.

  She stepped back. ‘What do you have that for?’

  ‘One never knows who one will run into on a night like this,’ he replied with an amused grin.

  Her palms started sweating as he slowly turned the doorknob and peered out into the hallway. She took off her gloves and wiggled her fingers in the event she needed to scratch an attacker’s eyes out.

  Dear God, let us be alone.

  He signalled her to follow him while keeping his attention on the silent, dark hallway. She would never admit to him how grateful she was for his self-assured presence tonight. Anticipating having to walk through these houses without being caught had upset her stomach all day. She had no experience at this.

  They reached the door leading to the garden and he placed his hand on the doorknob. ‘Are you ready?’

  She nodded and took a deep breath. The thought that someone might be close by watching them made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. She nudged his shoulder and got a whiff of leather and rainwater.

  When they stepped out into the overgrown garden, the damp air was a welcome relief from the musty smell inside. She was finally finished with her evening of breaking and entering.

  ‘Do you require assistance returning home?’ he asked, searching her face in what appeared to be true concern.

  ‘No, thank you. I assumed the house was empty but you’re correct. One can never be too cautious.’

  ‘Words to remember as you go forward with Lord Baxter,’ he said with a friendly smile.

  It took her a moment to recall his earlier assumption about why she had been on the roof. ‘Yes, well, thank you again.’

  They were facing each other in the moonlight and she had the strongest urge to close the distance between them. His blue eyes, framed with thick black lashes, had her transfixed. For a long moment, she looked back at him. He really did have lovely eyes—but they gave away his suspicions about her story.

  She went to walk past him, but he pulled her back by her hand. He stepped closer and his gaze dropped to her lips. The heat from his body travelled to hers through the cool damp air. The rain began to fall again, but she hadn’t noticed.

  ‘You should go,’ he said softly.

  She nodded, but part of her was having a difficult time walking away from him.

  His lips slowly curved into his familiar cocky smile. ‘You never thanked me for saving your life.’

  She released his hand and stepped back. ‘Do not look for a kiss from me. The kiss you received from another woman tonight should keep you content.’

  He crossed his arms. ‘What makes you think it was one kiss?’

  Sometimes he made it so easy to resist that pull she felt towards him. She turned and made her way through the overgrown brush to the small, delicate, wrought-iron gate. ‘The details of your love life do not interest me, my lord,’ she replied over her shoulder, grateful to be leaving the arrogant Earl.

  * * *

  When she climbed into the carriage waiting a few streets away, she met the eager expression of her dearest friend and closest confidant, Katrina, Duchess of Lyonsdale.

  ‘Well, did you find it?’ Katrina slid across the green velvet bench in the well-appointed carriage, making room for Sarah to sit down.

  Sarah shook her head while removing her hat and cape. The danger she had put herself in by breaking into the Everill town house had all been for naught. ‘I searched her room from top to bottom, and the bracelet was nowhere to be found. She must be wearing it tonight.’

  ‘Now what will you do?’

  ‘I’m not sure. If she continues to wear it everywhere she goes, I’ll be forced to take it off her wrist.’

  Katrina handed Sarah the gown she had changed out of in the carriage when they left the ball. Concern was etched on her brow. ‘You were gone for a long time. I was beginning to worry.’

  Sarah let out a sigh as she turned her back so Katrina could button her gown. ‘I was detained by Lord Hartwick on the roof as I was trying to leave.’

  ‘Hartwick? Does he know what you were doing tonight?’

  ‘No, he believes I was coming from an assignation with Lord Baxter.’

  Katrina’s hand paused midbutton. ‘Do you think that’s wise?’

  ‘It was better than telling him the truth. With all his ind
iscretions I doubt he would say anything.’

  ‘Whatever was he doing on the roof?’

  ‘Do you really need to ask?’

  Katrina resumed buttoning Sarah’s gown. ‘Has he taken up with Everill’s widowed niece?’

  ‘No, thankfully she was not in residence tonight, from what I could tell by looking into the bedchamber. He was with Lady Helmford.’

  ‘Why won’t that man ever pursue an unmarried woman?’

  ‘Because he might be forced to marry one! From what I’ve observed, he grows bored of women easily.’ Sarah began to pin up her hair.

  ‘I wish he would settle into marriage. I think it would do him good. He always appears rather restless to me.’

  ‘I pity the woman who falls for the likes of Lord Hartwick. He thinks too highly of himself and is too much of a rake to ever be faithful.’ She turned to face Katrina. ‘How do I look?’

  ‘You look like you never left the ballroom. I’m sorry this was all for naught.’

  So was Sarah. That bracelet was the key to saving her parents great pain. She would not stop until she had it.

  * * *

  Playing cards with the Prince Regent always proved to be entertaining, especially when the man was losing. Hart leaned back in his chair in the alcove of the bow window of White’s and watched as his friend and sovereign studied the cards in his hand with the intensity of one who was trying to decipher foreign words on a page.

  His puffy face was scrunched up as he directed his gaze away from his cards and over to Hart. ‘Do not look smug.’

  ‘I hadn’t realised I was.’

  ‘You always do. You have not won this hand yet.’

  ‘You’re quickly running out of money to bet. I might win by forfeit.’

  ‘Unlikely.’ Prinny turned to his cards again.

  Hart took a sip of brandy and checked his watch. It was close to four in the morning, but it felt much later. He would bow out after this hand and get some much-needed rest. ‘I don’t think the cards will change however long you stare at them.’

  ‘Don’t rush me, boy.’

  Granted Hart was young enough to be the man’s son, however at thirty-two, he was far from a boy. ‘Very well, if I nod off, someone wake me when it’s my turn.’

  Prinny finally selected his card and placed it on the table. Hart won the hand and the remainder of his friend’s money. Now he could escape to his bed and sleep for days.

  ‘One more round, Hart.’

  Dammit! How was it possible he was not tired of losing? ‘You have nothing left to bet.’

  Prinny turned towards his three companions behind him, ready to plead his case, when they quickly walked away. ‘Useless, the lot of you are useless,’ he called after them.

  ‘You see,’ Hart said through a yawn. ‘We cannot continue.’

  ‘One last round. How about we wager for a favour?’

  It was always wise to store as many favours as one could. You never knew when you might need them. Considering the luck Prinny was having tonight, Hart was certain he would win. ‘Very well, but this is the last one.’

  They went back and forth till finally it was down to one hand. Prinny placed his card down, a victorious smile on his lips. ‘I win.’

  Hart had to rub his eyes twice to make certain he was truly awake. Dammit! Now he owed Prinny a favour. The Prince Regent guided him by the elbow to a quiet corner of the room. ‘I mean to collect, you know.’

  ‘I had no doubt. Something tells me you had a favour in mind all along.’

  ‘I might have.’

  ‘You could have simply asked.’

  ‘True, but now you’re bound by a debt to do this for me.’

  ‘And there is no one else you could have asked?’

  ‘No one that I trust to keep this quiet. You cannot tell a soul. Not even Winter.’ If he was not to tell the man responsible for overseeing Prinny’s secret guard, then Hart was truly interested.

  ‘And you cannot tell Lyonsdale either. I know how close you are.’

  ‘Very well, you have my word. I shall not tell a soul.’

  Prinny lowered himself into a chair and eyed the seat next to him, indicating Hart should sit. Unfortunately, there was a good chance that once he sat down, Hart would not get up until sunrise.

  ‘Rumours have surfaced that indicate some of the missing French crown jewels are hidden here in London.’

  Hart shifted closer to Prinny. ‘I haven’t heard this.’ He prided himself on knowing important details before they became public knowledge and shook off his annoyance.

  ‘Louis sent word to me through his ambassador. He asked for my help in locating them for France. He wants them back. There is specific mention of the Sancy, a pale yellow diamond that weighs approximately fifty-five carats. It once was part of the Mirror of Great Britain until James sold the stone to Cardinal Mazarin when he needed funds.’

  ‘What has this to do with me?’

  ‘I want you to find it.’

  ‘Why? This seems like a task for the Home Office.’

  ‘Castlereigh and I have met with them. We were reassured they would locate the jewels.’

  ‘I don’t understand. If they’re locating them, why would you want to involve me? I do not work with them.’

  ‘No, but you do work for Winter and I know how cunning you are. I want you to do this for me, without the knowledge of the Home Office.’

  Either Hart was much too tired or Prinny was talking in circles, as he was known to do. ‘So you want me to find the French crown jewels that the Home Office is already trying to locate and return them to you?’

  ‘Just the Sancy.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because that diamond should be ours. Just imagine me reclaiming it. It’s too delicious a notion to pass up. I have no intention of returning it to France. I’ll never let Louis or Castlereigh know I possess it. France believes the thief, Guillot, broke apart the crown jewels. He hid clues to the Sancy’s whereabouts in a bracelet shortly after he arrived in England. This bracelet recently surfaced in Rundell & Bridge and was purchased by Everill for his wife. To find the Sancy, you need that bracelet.’

  Hart tossed the lock of hair out of his eyes, getting a better look at the man sitting across from him. There was a chance Prinny had too much to drink.

  ‘Come now, Hart. Ever since you were a small boy, you were drawn to danger. You should be begging me to do this. Your uncle often said it would be a miracle if you reached the age of twenty with your penchant for reckless acts. It is a miracle you are still alive after tumbling down that cliff not long after your mother died.’

  Hart shifted in his seat, not at all comfortable with recalling his mother or that day when he was a boy of seven—a boy who only wanted to stand in the last place his mother had stood before he lost her forever.

  ‘So you will find it for me?’ Prinny’s voice broke the painful memory and, for the first time, Hart was grateful to be interrupted by the man.

  He rubbed his eyes. ‘Do you even know what this bracelet looks like? I imagine Lady Everill has quite a few.’

  ‘As a matter of fact I do know what it looks like,’ Prinny replied rather smugly. ‘I was told there are square gold links with paintings on porcelain. The links are also engraved in a Grecian style. The thief left a note for his accomplice that the bracelet would help him locate the Sancy. Find that bracelet and you find the key to where it is. You owe me this debt.’

  Copyright © 2017 by Laurie Benson

  ISBN-13: 9781488021442

  Claiming His Highland Bride

  Copyright © 2017 by Theresa S. Brisbin

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