Cowboys and Highlanders

by Scott, Tarah

  Surprise shone on Margaret's face. "Why, there must have been many opportunities…" Her eyes widened. "You mean to marry him."

  Elise jerked. "What?"

  "You think if you make him wait, he will marry you. My girl, Marcus does not marry out of lust. The Marq—"

  "It is quite evident love is not the driving factor in your marriage," Elise snapped.

  Margaret's eyes blazed.

  "My congratulations, madam. I wish you, Marcus, and all his paramours a happy union." Elise hurried past her toward the door.

  "How dare you, you little—"

  Elise yanked the door open and slammed it behind her as she stepped into the hallway, leaving Margaret's final words behind. She stumbled forward. Tears clouded her vision. She reached out a hand to the wall, steadying her progress, and discovered she still held the book. She gripped it tighter and took one wobbly step after another until she reached the stairs. She started down, but the sound of voices echoing up the stairwell stopped her. Cameron. She turned, scanning the hall for some form of escape, then remembered the small alcove around the bend she had just passed. She dashed up the stairs and down the corridor.

  Elise reached the alcove and yanked back the tapestry, nearly falling headlong inside. She straightened, then turned and backed up, stopping only when her shoulders touched cold stone. Sliding to the floor, she dropped the book and hugged her knees to her chest.

  "Nay." Even from the distance of the stairwell, Cameron's voice boomed within the narrow confines of the corridor. "'Tis likely he won't be back for several days."

  "I hadna' realized he meant to stay so long in the fields," came Daniel's voice.

  "He believes the Campbells mean to do mischief during the harvest."

  "The guards around the wall remain on double watch," Daniel said.

  Elise held her breath as they passed the alcove.

  Cameron sighed. "His thirst for revenge is likely never to be quenched. He cannot forgive them for taking Elise."

  She stifled a gasp. Winnie's words unexpectedly rang in her mind. "…it was Marcus who made it clear threats against his own would be met with an iron fist."

  The male voices faded down the hallway and Elise rose to her feet. She tiptoed to the tapestry and drew the fabric back a fraction. She glanced left then right in the empty corridor, then stepped from the alcove and hurried to the stairs.

  Memory of the previous night rose in even more vivid detail than when she'd faced Margaret. If not for the arrival of Marcus's guest, she would have given herself to him. Heat flared in her cheeks. He had held her intimately. So intimately that in her dreams he had caressed her, taken each nipple in his mouth as he slipped a finger between the wet folds of her womanhood. She had never experienced a dream so real… so erotic. Her vision blurred on the stairs and she slowed.

  In her dream, it hadn't been him who took her, but she who had willingly parted her thighs, then pulled him between them. She had wrapped her hand around his swollen rod and teased him—teased herself—by rubbing the tip against her throbbing sex, then between the folds before finally guiding him inside her. Elise halted and collapsed back against the wall, her breath heavy and the throb between her legs as real now as it had been in the dream.

  The cool of the stone penetrated the thin fabric of her servant's dress. She forced her breathing into a more natural rhythm, then started down the stairs again and didn't stop until she reached her room. Elise closed the door with a soft click. Her knees shook and she suddenly doubted her ability to cross the few paces to the bed.

  "Fool," she hissed. She had almost spread her legs for him. A stab of longing startled her. Dear God, the deed would have meant nothing to him.

  The unexpected sound of footsteps racing down the hallway jerked her attention to the door. The light tread belonged to a woman and she approached at a run. Elise darted from the door, headed for the screen in hopes of ducking behind the barrier. The footsteps halted outside her bedchamber and the door burst open before she reached the screen.

  "Thank God!" Mary cried.

  Elise whirled.

  "You must come quickly!" Mary dashed across the room and grabbed her arm, then tugged her toward the door.

  "What in God's name is wrong?" Elise wrenched free.

  "'Tis Lady Margaret," Mary wailed. "She's in an awful fit and is sure to beat Jinny."

  Elise pushed past Mary and rushed from the room, along the corridor, then down the steps into the great hall. She raced across the great hall, coming to a skidding halt in the kitchen.

  Jinny cowered in a corner with Margaret standing over her.

  "What is the meaning of this?" Elise demanded.

  Margaret turned.

  "Cease this nonsense," Elise ordered.

  Margaret stared, slack-jawed.

  "Close your mouth," Elise snapped. "In polite circles, it is considered rude to stare."

  Margaret's mouth twisted into a gruesome frown. "How dare you?"

  "What right have you to terrorize this household?"

  Margaret's eyes gleamed with malicious satisfaction. "I have every right—as you know."

  "Don't count your chickens before they are hatched. I venture Marcus will not take kindly to your actions."

  "Marcus again, is it?"

  Elise recognized the jealousy in the woman's eyes and gave her a calculated look. "Jinny," she addressed the young cook who still cowered, "fetch Cameron."

  "Cameron?" Margaret's brows rose in a mocking manner.

  "Yes. Jinny, I saw him upstairs only a few minutes ago. He was probably on his way to the library."

  "Stay where you are," Margaret threatened.

  Jinny's wary glance darted from Margaret to Elise.

  "It's all right," Elise urged.

  Jinny shot a sidelong look at Margaret, then eased a foot to the side. Lady Margaret took a step toward the girl. Elise slid between them.

  "Don't take your petty jealousy out on her." Elise stepped so close Margaret was forced to look up in order to maintain eye contact. "Are you such a coward you will only fight those who don't have the power to fight back?"

  Margaret raised her hand and swung, palm open, for a hard slap. Her gaze flicked past Elise and her eyes widened as a much larger hand intercepted her palm before it hit its intended mark.

  "Enough, lass," Cameron commanded softly.

  "I—" she began.

  "Never mind," he said. "Marcus isna' here. 'Tis best if you go."

  Margaret looked as if she would say more but lifted her skirts and headed for the door.

  Cameron looked at Elise. "Are you all right, lass?"

  She kept her gaze on Margaret's retreating form then, as Margaret stepped from the kitchen to the great hall, Elise started forward. Cameron stayed her with a firm grip on her arm.

  "Whoa, lass. Where are you going?"

  She shook his hand from her arm. "Why did you interrupt?"

  "I heard you tell Jinny to fetch me. I would think you were glad for my timely arrival."

  "A timely arrival would have been three seconds later."

  "But she would have struck you by then."

  Elise saw Margaret open the postern door. "Correct."

  "You wanted her to hit you?"

  "Yes."

  "Why?"

  Elise looked at him. "Because then I could have hit her back."

  * * * *

  Elise stopped before Winnie's cottage. Her sharp rap on the door quieted the evening crickets and she entered without waiting for an invitation.

  Winnie looked up from where she sat at the table. "What's wrong?"

  "Something must be wrong?" Elise asked.

  Winnie rose and bustled to the door. "Supper is finished and you are visiting me. If you had good news, you would have told me then." Winnie prodded her into a chair at the table, then turned to the hearth and grabbed the kettle from the fire. "Have some tea."

  She set a cup in front of Elise, picked up a tea strainer from the basket sitting on t
he table, and plopped it into the cup. Winnie filled the cup with hot water, then did the same for herself. She replaced the kettle over the fire, seated herself across from Elise, and stared, an expectant look on her face.

  Elise dipped a finger inside her cup and fiddled with the tea strainer so that it bobbed in the water. "I haven't spoken about my life before Brahan Seer."

  "Nay."

  "Perhaps that was unfair."

  A silence drew out between them before Elise said, "The details no longer matter, only that I lost everything. I began again here," a tremor rippled through her at the lie, "but now I see myself entangled in a mess no better than the one I came from."

  "A mess?" Winnie repeated.

  Elise smiled gently. "By now, all of Brahan Seer knows what happened today between me and Lady Margaret."

  "Aye, though no one was surprised by such mischief from Lady Margaret."

  Elise lifted a brow. "Indeed?"

  "Aye," Winnie said. "She's a bitch."

  Elise blinked, then couldn't help laughing.

  Winnie frowned. "Well, she is."

  Elise released a breath. "That doesn't change the truth… or the fact I must leave."

  "Leave?" Winnie snorted. "Surely not because of Lady Margaret?"

  Elise leaned forward on the table. "Winnie, he is to marry her."

  The older woman's shocked expression said she knew nothing of the betrothal. Elise experienced a sense of relief she hadn't hoped for. Winnie hadn't been a part of the deception.

  "I don't believe it," Winnie said.

  "No?" Elise asked. "Because you don't like her?"

  "Nay." But this time, the denial held less conviction.

  "I am going. Tomorrow."

  Winnie's brows snapped together. "So soon? Mayhap you should wait just a little while, give Marcus a chance—"

  "A chance for what?" To win me over? The very thing she couldn't allow. For she would submit, then the leaving would only break her heart all the more. And she would leave. For Amelia. For Steven. And because he had lied to her.

  "Marcus is away," she said. "It's better I go now."

  "You plan on returning to America?"

  Elise nodded.

  "I suppose you can manage there as well as here."

  "I need your help."

  Winnie gave her a wary look. "I dinna' like the look in your eye."

  "I must leave early if I am to reach Glasgow before nightfall. Leaving so early is sure to raise suspicion. If you and I go together to the village—"

  "Lord save us." Winnie rolled her eyes heavenward.

  "You know it will take trickery."

  "Oh, it will take trickery."

  "If you know another way?"

  "There is a secret passage leading outside the gates."

  "A secret passage? Where does it emerge?"

  "Near the gate."

  "That might work," Elise murmured.

  Winnie unexpectedly shook her head. "Nay. 'Tis a bad idea."

  "Why?"

  "If you are caught, the jig is up. We will do as you said and go early. Only you cannot go all the way to Glasgow alone. Peter will go with you."

  "Peter?" Elise's heart thumped. "I won't risk another person's life."

  Winnie's face softened. "Peter is no green boy. He's my niece's cousin, a seasoned fighter and a crack shot. And," Winnie paused for emphasis, "he knows nothing of Marcus's, er, desire for you to stay." Elise hesitated, and Winnie added, "He would have returned home anyway. Glasgow is not far out of his way. Trust me, he can get you there safely."

  Elise nodded, despite the knot in her throat. God help her if she miscalculated again.

  Chapter Eight

  Marcus stared at the warrior standing before him in the great hall. The anticipation he had felt only an hour ago had given way to a throbbing in his head that threatened to incite him to violence. "You found her buying a ticket for an Australian-bound packet?" he managed in an even voice.

  "Nay, laird," the warrior replied.

  "Ah," Marcus said, "I forget, you intercepted her at the pawnbroker's shop."

  "Not in the shop, exactly," he hedged.

  Marcus glanced at his father, who sat in his chair sipping ale as though they were discussing nothing more important than the weather. Marcus looked back at the warrior. "Where, then?"

  "She, er, had left the pawnbroker—you see, Daniel reasoned we couldna' just go inside and take her. She would bring all of Glasgow down upon us."

  "Indeed," Marcus murmured.

  "She near did—or would have, had we not dragged her into the alley."

  "Dragged her into an alley, you say? This alley was deserted then, a place you could have done with her as you wished?"

  The man swallowed. "Aye."

  "Angry, was she?" Marcus realized he had clenched his hand into a fist.

  The man looked sheepish. "You can't blame the lass, she thought—"

  "Aye," Marcus interrupted savagely, "I know what she thought. The little fool is damned lucky that isn't what happened. You are certain no Campbell accosted her?"

  "Not so much as a scrap of Campbell plaide was found between here and Glasgow."

  "How far behind were Elise and Daniel when you left them?"

  "They were riding fast—not so fast she couldn't keep up," the man added quickly, "but I rode harder. I left them at early light."

  "By all rights, they should be arriving anytime," Marcus calculated.

  "Aye," the warrior agreed.

  Marcus jerked his head toward the postern door in an indication the man should leave, and he hurried from the great hall. Marcus faced his father. "What the bloody hell was she selling—and Australia? I thought Winnie said she was bound for America."

  "'Tis strange," Cameron agreed.

  "If anything has happened to her…"

  Cameron's gaze remained steady. "Ye heard what John said. She is well." He motioned to the seat beside him. "Sit, have an ale, and wait."

  "By God, she had three days head start." Marcus slammed a fist down on the table. "Anything could have happened."

  "Not three, less than two. 'Tis been three days since she left. I can see how you would confuse the time, but our lads took after her night before last. Elise and Peter's tracks indicated they rode slow, and our men rode fast. Did you not comprehend John's report?" Marcus opened his mouth to retort, but Cameron added, "Our men lagged but two hours behind them yesterday afternoon. I sent more men to meet them. They are on their way home and willna' dare dally."

  "How could you have let her go?"

  "I didn't let her go." Cameron regarded him. "You plan on making her a prisoner?"

  "Would you have her alone on that ship?" Marcus demanded.

  His father's mouth thinned. "We should beat them both." He glanced in the direction of the kitchen where Winnie worked.

  "Aye," Marcus said, agreeing with his father for the first time since he'd returned home an hour ago. "Beat her, I will. If I don't get the chance, I will take it out of your hide, Father."

  Cameron took a large swig of the ale sitting before him, then set the mug on the table. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "The lads will return with her soon."

  Marcus shot his father another unforgiving look. "So you have said a dozen times the past hour."

  His father's expression hardened. "I realize you are upset, lad, but you aren't giving me enough credit. Do you believe I would sit here drinking ale if I thought she was in danger?"

  Marcus hesitated.

  "She will arrive safe."

  Tramping feet approached the postern door. Marcus whirled as the door opened and Daniel entered, followed by half a dozen men.

  "Where is she?" Marcus demanded.

  The men parted to reveal Elise, head downcast, hair damp. Marcus frowned, his first thought was Why had she not been given a tartan? But she raised her head and the fire in her eyes ignited an answering fury in him. He strode to her, grabbed her by the shoulders, and began shaking her.r />
  "What do you think you were doing?" He shook her harder with every word.

  "Marcus!" Cameron's sharp voice cut through the haze. "You'll shake her to death."

  "Or mayhap shake some sense into her." He shoved her away from him and raked his hand through his hair.

  "Laird," Daniel said.

  Marcus looked at Daniel, who tossed a small pouch to him. He caught it and the clink of coin rattled inside the leather.

  "'Tis Elise's—"

  Marcus jerked his gaze onto his captain.

  "The money she received from the pawnbroker," Daniel finished.

  Marcus loosed the tie and emptied the coins into his palm. He counted five sovereign. A small fortune. He looked at Elise. "What were you selling?"

  She remained mute. He turned to Daniel.

  Daniel cleared his throat. "A wedding ring, according to the bill of sale."

  Marcus watched dumbfounded as Daniel produced a piece of paper from within his sporran. He strode to the table and laid the bill of sale on it.

  Marcus looked at Elise. "A hefty sum, even for a gold band."

  She lifted her chin a fraction. "How did you find me?"

  He slipped the coins back into the pouch, then tossed it on the table. "The MacGregor can track you, remember?"

  Her cheeks colored and he knew she remembered that day in the meadow when she had threatened him with the MacGregor fury should he harm her and the children. 'I tracked these children. You think he cannot track you?' she had said.

  He broke eye contact. "Go change into dry clothes." Silence followed and he looked to see she hadn't so much as twitched a muscle. Marcus narrowed his eyes. "I warn you, Elise, do no' try my temper any further. Go upstairs. Now."

  She remained motionless. He lunged forward and scooped her onto his shoulder. Whoops and cheers rang throughout the room.

  "Marcus MacGregor!" She thrashed.

  He answered with a hard squeeze to her legs. The men responded with more raucous laughter. Applause followed as he strode across the room and bounded up the stairs. She twisted in his grasp, but Marcus ignored the futile effort until he reached her bedchamber, where he kicked the door open and, in three paces, tossed her onto the bed. She landed on the mattress and immediately made to scramble to her knees. Marcus leapt forward, one knee on the bed, and planted his hands on each side of her.