The Highland Guardian

by Jarecki, Amy

  But, devil’s spit, was Miss Audrey so fickle his kiss had frightened her? And he’d tried to be so goddamned gentle.

  How could I have misread her so?

  With a groan, he took another sip of the fiery spirit and stared at the flickering flames…until the door opened.

  “My lord? May I enter?”

  Reid leaned forward and regarded Mrs. Hobbs standing in the doorway and holding a candle. He wasn’t in the mood to listen to complaints from one of the housekeeping staff. He frowned and scratched his chin.

  “Please, it concerns…” She glanced over her shoulder, then cupped her hand to her mouth. “Miss Audrey.”

  With the next tick of the mantel clock, his heart jolted. He hopped to his feet, blinking away his bloody gloom. “By all means, please come in.”

  She carefully closed the door so it made no sound, then addressed him after setting the candle on a table. “When I was putting away Miss Audrey’s washing, I found a letter.”

  His ears piqued. “I take it, a confidential correspondence?”

  She nodded.

  “From Mr. Tupps?”

  With a big sigh, Mrs. Hobbs looked to the ceiling. “Heaven forgive me for snooping, but I love that girl and would never wish to see anything bad happen to her.”

  “I understand.” Reid gestured to a chair. “Would you care to sit and have a tot of brandy?”

  “Me, my lord?”

  “Why not? ’Tis late. Surely a wee sip of spirit will help you sleep.”

  Sighing, the matron moved to the couch. “You are a generous man. I could tell that when you arrived. You haven’t tried to take advantage of Miss Audrey—we’ve all been watching—and you have only acted responsibly.”

  Reid collected a second tumbler and poured for the maid, keeping his face passive while his chest tightened. Thank God the entire household hadn’t heard about his brazen kiss, otherwise Mrs. Hobbs mightn’t have come forward. “I owe a great deal to Miss Audrey’s father.”

  “And I can tell you want to see to her happiness.”

  “I do.” Sensing where this was leading, he resumed his seat and picked up his glass. “Tell me, what is the nature of the missive you found?”

  The maid sipped the brandy, her fingers trembling a bit. “As you guessed, it was from Mr. Tupps, and though he signed it, ‘your ardent suitor,’ it was shocking.”

  Always trust gut instincts.

  A tick twitched in Reid’s jaw. “That is grave news.”

  “I thought a great deal about it, and I firmly believe it is my duty as a servant of the Kennet family to divulge the details.” She patted her chest. “Mr. Tupps claims he is the only heir…but if Miss Audrey didn’t marry him, he would implicate the late Mr. Kennet and you, my lord, as Jacobite traitors, and such implication would ruin Miss Audrey as well.”

  Reid shifted his gaze to the candle and sought to tamp down the flames that had ignited in his chest. But nothing would cool his ire now. “Did he say how he would go about implicating me and Audrey’s da?”

  “No, my lord.” She cringed. “I do not oft have the opportunity to read, but I learned how. My parents served Nicholas Kennet’s father, and I was allowed to take lessons with Mr. Josiah for a few years.”

  Glancing over his shoulder, Reid regarded the portrait of Wagner Tupps’s sire. “What was he like?”

  Mrs. Hobbs took another wee sip of her brandy and coughed. “As a boy, he was lazy and resentful of his elder brother, but he was quite flirtatious as well.”

  “Sounds like he maintained those qualities into adulthood.” Reid drummed his fingers. “Tell me, was Nicholas’s da a coal miner?”

  “No. He was a physician. Mr. Kennet founded the mine himself.”

  Reid should have asked about that when he’d first arrived, but for some reason, the question hadn’t seemed important at the time. “Does Miss Audrey have any idea you’ve seen her missive?”

  “No, my lord. I put it back just as I’d found it.” She covered her mouth with her finger. “Please forgive me. I know I shouldn’t have been nosy.”

  Standing, Reid offered his hand. “Rest assured you did the right thing. I will protect your confidence, and I will most certainly deal with this scoundrel. An attempt to blackmail Miss Audrey is an attempt to blackmail me.”

  “Thank you. You have no idea how much it puts my heart at ease to hear you say so.”

  After Reid ushered Mrs. Hobbs out of the library, he strode to the writing desk and dipped a quill in the inkwell. He pressed hard to steady the anger shooting through the tips of his fingers. Too right, his gut instincts had pinned the bastard. And to think Miss Audrey was willing to throw her life away to protect his reputation and her father’s?

  This will be the last time Tupps takes advantage of an innocent maid.

  Reid used bold strokes to explain his dealings in Calais, something he should have done as soon as his galley was sunk by the bumbling Royal Navy.

  A mere vagrant thought he could ruin the Earl of Seaforth? He’d call this blackmailer’s hand and unleash his ire. Reid would denounce the maggot’s claim on the Kennet estate once and for all.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Audrey sat up fully awake, roused by the sound of horse hooves pummeling the cobblestones in the courtyard—not a common sound in the country in the middle of the night. Without lighting a candle, she dashed to the window to find Reid and his men cantering down the drive and heading for the gates.

  She snapped her gaze to the mantel clock. Three in the morning.

  What possibly could be so urgent it cannot wait until dawn?

  Determined to find out, she hastened to tie her stays in the front and stepped into her riding habit. After securing her tresses at her nape, Audrey shoved her tricorn riding hat on her head and quickly made for the stables.

  The oil lamp secured to the stone wall was still alight. Down the alleyway, the stable hand shoved a stall latch closed.

  “Jeffrey, do you never sleep?”

  He jolted. “Miss Audrey? What are you doing up at this hour?”

  “I believe I asked you the same question.”

  The lad shrugged and walked toward her, rubbing his eyes. “I was asleep until the earl’s man roused me.”

  “Why on earth did they ride off at three in the morning?” Sensing Jeffrey might try to cover up the truth, she shook her finger. “And do not lie to me. Even I know ’tis too early to set out on a hunt.”

  He shrugged. “Why would they tell me what they’re up to? The only thing I heard was they needed to find some swindler’s domicile from the solicitor. The earl was crackin’ angry, I’ll say.”

  Audrey gasped. How could he have found out? She grasped Jeffrey by the lapels. “What else?”

  Wrapping his fingers around her wrists, he twisted them just enough to make her release him. “I don’t know. I had cobwebs in my brain.” He scratched his head. “But the earl did say he wanted every missive delivered to this house to be presented to him no matter to whom it was addressed. Why would he do that? What the blazes is happening?”

  “Nothing good, I’ll say that right now.” Audrey thrust her finger toward Allegro’s stall. “Make haste. We must stop them before the earl does something that can never be undone.”

  * * *

  The village of Coxhoe was dark without a single candle burning in a window when Reid pounded on the door to Mr. Watford’s town house.

  “What is the meaning—?” The butler didn’t finish his question as Reid pushed inside.

  “Tell your employer he is needed for an urgent meeting with the Earl of Seaforth. I expect to meet him in the parlor within two minutes, or I’ll have no recourse but to start kicking in doors.”

  “Yes, my lord. Straightaway, my lord.”

  The man must have taken him seriously, because it was but a minute when Mr. Watford appeared in his dressing gown belted around his waist. “My lord. Why the devil are you calling in the middle of the night?”

  Reid cracke
d his thumbs. “Where is he?”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “The festering pustule who is blackmailing my ward? Where the hell is he?”

  The man’s face blanched. “Are you referring to Wagner Tupps?”

  “Who else is trying to sink his talons into the Kennet estate?”

  “I must protect the privacy of my client.”

  Reid moved closer, making the solicitor’s neck crane. “I thought I was your bloody client.”

  “Ah, you are. You b-b-both are.” A sheen of sweat sprang out across Watford’s brow.

  Something is amiss.

  “Wait a moment.” Reid took a step back, looking the man from head to toe and crossing his arms. “What does Tupps have on you?”

  “I have no idea to what you are referring, my lord.”

  “Nay?” Reid snapped his fingers at his men, who stepped away from the wall with their hands gripping their dirks. “Either you tell me where I can find this backstabbing varlet, or my men will rifle through your documents until I find what I’m looking for.”

  The solicitor looked terrified. “Please, do not tell him who gave you this information.”

  “Jesus Christ, the bastard has you by the cods.”

  “In a word, yes.” He glanced up the stairs. “My wife mustn’t know I’ve been blackmailed.”

  Reid didn’t give a lick about the man’s plea for discretion. “Well, he’s crossed the wrong man this time.”

  Watford clutched his hands over his belly. “Do you promise I shall not be implicated?”

  “Bloody hell, it is not you I am after.” He flicked a hand at his men, telling them to back away.

  “Christ,” Watford whispered with a backward glance over his shoulder as if the walls could hear his every word. “Tupps mustn’t know, either—”

  “Of course, dammit. Where do I find the bastard?”

  “He lives at the back of Madam Chester’s on the waterfront in Hartlepool.”

  Reid started for the door. “That would be right. He wallows in the mire with a gaggle of whores.”

  * * *

  By the time Reid reached the shore, the sun shone like a blinding disk on the horizon of the North Sea. A month ago, he’d washed up on this same shore and had said good-bye to a friend. Ever since, his life had been in turmoil. What seemed a simple task had turned into a shambles.

  But now it is time to set things to rights.

  Madam Chester’s was a ramshackle alehouse, wooden with two stories. The floor at the top catering to the wiles of lonely sailors, no doubt.

  Putrid trash lined the side alley, and rats scampered for hiding places as Reid strode to the rear. Wagner Tupps was a scoundrel of the worst sort. If a man like that lived on MacKenzie lands, Reid would deal with him the Highland way. Tupps would be hung from the great oak outside Brahan Castle. Reid had only hanged one man by the gnarled branch—a man who had committed rape and murder. For the most part, his kin lived by a code of honor, though that couldn’t be said for the MacLeod pirates to the west.

  Just as Watford had said, there was a room with a separate door at the back.

  I should have known the son of a bitch wallowed in a pigsty.

  He motioned for his men to stay put. Then, drawing his dirk, he turned the latch on the rickety door and slipped inside. The eerie glow of dawn shone through the cracked windowpane.

  Inside, the chamber stank of stale beer and piss. Good God, the man was contemptible. Across the floor, a snore pealed through the air. Wagner slept on a narrow bed, and he was alone.

  Reid silently moved to the bedside, where he could gaze upon the devil. Riding from Coxhoe, he’d had hours to think about how he’d confront this bastard. If he ran his dirk across the varlet’s throat, he might be brought up on charges for murder. In England, such a contrived charge might actually hold. But there was no law against calling a man out.

  “You’d best wake and face your reckoning, ye heap of worthless lard.”

  Shaking his head with a snort, Tupps opened his eyes. He moved like an eel, but Reid was faster, pinning the man to the mattress and pressing his dirk to his throat. “Blackmail is a crime.”

  “So is treason,” Tupps spewed, the stench of pickled ale on his breath.

  “But having a conversation with an exiled prince is not.”

  The man’s eyes shifted to a sword leaning against the wall near the headboard. “How did you find me?”

  “That’s not important.” Reid leaned harder on the man’s chest until his breathing became labored. “I could slit your throat now, but that would be too easy. I hereby challenge you to a duel. You have five minutes to pull on your breeches, secure your sword, and meet me in the street. My men are posted outside. If you try to run, they will cut you down. If you are not outside in five minutes, they will drag you from this very hovel.”

  Wagner wheezed under Reid’s weight.

  The earl pressed down harder. “Do you understand?”

  Sickly fear oozed off the man as he gave a single nod—subtle enough to avoid cutting his own throat on the razor-sharp dirk at his neck.

  With one last shove to ensure the bastard knew he meant business, Reid straightened and took a step back. “Five minutes,” he growled as he backed toward the door.

  Roaring, Tupps sprang from the mattress wielding a knife.

  Stepping aside, Reid caught the scoundrel’s wrist and snapped it downward. The dagger dropped to the ground while he twisted the cur’s arm up his back. Wrenching it to the point of breaking, he pressed his lips to Wagner’s ear. “You’d best make a showing with a bit more flair, else you’ll not last long, ye maggot.”

  He gnashed his teeth and pushed Tupps to the timbers, then stormed out the door.

  Christ, the man had no idea how to fight. Even if he did, he would meet his end this day.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The sun glowing low on the horizon made it difficult to see as Audrey and Jeffrey rode east into Hartlepool. She’d ridden Allegro so hard, the old horse was about to drop. But bless him, he’d kept up. They’d lost precious time while Mr. Watford had tried to talk them into returning to Coxhoe House. When finally she’d persuaded the solicitor to tell her where the earl was headed, the eastern sky had already taken on a hue of cobalt with the promise of dawn.

  Now she gripped the reins in her fists while her thundering heart beat even faster as they approached the shore. A crowd had gathered outside the alehouse.

  “Look.” Jeffrey pointed to the center of the street. “’Tis the earl.”

  As soon as Audrey saw Reid standing like a Highland king, sword drawn and ready for battle, she whipped her riding cane against Allegro’s hip. “My lord!” she shouted above the crowd.

  The earl’s face snapped around, while anger flashed through his eyes. “Audrey? Stay back!”

  Allegro’s rear end dipped low as she pulled the reins and skidded to a sudden stop. Audrey leaned forward and shortened her grasp for better control while the crowd grew thicker. “Let me pass.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, a flicker of movement made the hair on her arms stand on end. Her instincts took over, making her urge the horse forward.

  A hand came from out of nowhere and grabbed Allegro’s bridle.

  Audrey tugged the reins away to steer the horse aside.

  “Stop that man!” Reid bellowed while the crowd suddenly spread.

  The hand holding the bridle didn’t release.

  Audrey lashed out with her cane, twisting her body and coming face-to-face with Wagner Tupps. Baring his yellow teeth, he launched himself behind her. “’Tis ever so nice of my betrothed to come to my rescue,” he growled, reaching for her reins.

  Audrey thrashed the leathers, trying to make the horse rear. “I am not betrothed to you yet,” she seethed.

  “You will be.” Wagner overpowered her hands and kicked his heels, forcing Allegro to run for the beach.

  Frantically trying to free herself from the madman’s grip, her g
aze darted over her shoulder. “Jeffrey!”

  But it wasn’t the stable hand barreling toward her. Audrey recognized the bay stallion Reid had been riding since his arrival. The horse was far younger and thrice as fast as her old gelding. Sand kicked up behind them as she stretched back her hand. “Help!”

  Holding tight to the reins, Wagner squeezed his arms around her. “You’re mine.”

  “I’m not,” she growled as the earl closed the distance. His horse grunted with loud snorts as he galloped to Allegro’s left, the same side as her legs. Twisting sideways, Audrey struggled to release her knee from the upper pommel.

  “Give me your hand,” Reid shouted, reaching out.

  “Never!” Wagner pulled a dagger from his sleeve and sliced it at the earl’s forearm.

  “Argh,” he bellowed, his horse losing pace.

  “No,” Audrey cried, stretching her arms out to no avail.

  But Allegro was no match for the stallion. Within paces, Reid again rode in beside them…closer this time. Before Tupps made another strike, the earl threw a punch, hitting the blackguard in the temple. As Wagner recoiled, Reid snatched Audrey by the waist. With her next blink, she landed square on Seaforth’s lap while he wrapped his powerful arms around her.

  “I have you, love.” His growl was so low, she wasn’t certain she’d heard right, but she was safe, cradled in Reid’s strong embrace as he turned his horse and headed for the onslaught of Highlanders now galloping down the beach toward them.

  “Run him down and show no mercy!” Reid roared as he pulled the stallion to a halt.

  “Aye, Captain!” Graham shouted as the men galloped past.

  Audrey clutched her fists under her chin, trying to catch her breath. “I-I-I was s-s-so afraid.”

  He cradled her head to his chest with a massive hand, so gentle and soothing, it felt nothing like the viselike grip that had snatched her away from doom. “Are you all right, lass?”

  “Yes. But he has Allegro!”