Josette went cold as she stared at him in dismay. “You want us to pretend to be husband and wife again? But Sir William and Anna disappeared after Marsden House. Never to be heard from again.”
“Returned to the Continent after they spent too much as usual,” Will said, waving the difficulty away. “Sir Harmon, a fellow profligate will believe that. And if he has guests—and he will—if they happen to know our earl from Salisbury or by chance have met Sir William and Anna before, it will be much less dangerous if we play the same roles.”
Josette folded her arms. “I take your point, but this is the Highlands. Won’t those who live near Sir Harmon know you as Will Mackenzie? The servants who work at the house might recognize you at the very least.”
Will shook his head. “Sir Harmon brings an English staff with him, won’t even use a Scottish ghillie—thus incurring the wrath of every villager in the area. The English servants don’t venture out much, terrified of the barbarian Scots beyond the gates. If villagers do happen to glimpse me, I doubt they’d betray me to a man like Sir Harmon.”
“You are very certain I will do this with you.” Josette hugged herself more tightly. The last time they’d gone on this sort of venture, things had become dire, and not just because the villain of the piece had tried to kill them. “Why can’t you go in alone? Why do you need a wife?”
“More believable,” Will said, the answer too quick. “A gentleman turning up out of the blue is suspicious. But a man and wife making a tour of Scotland, needing a place to stay, and blessing their stars they found a civilized Englishman, is much more credible.”
“Yes,” Josette admitted reluctantly. “It’s impossible, though.” She regarded him with triumph. “Where will we find a coach and good horses that can stand the Highland roads—or lack thereof—not to mention fine clothes? We look like laborers, at present, and we can’t very well turn up with a donkey and cart. We’d never be let in the gate.”
“That ye can leave to me. And Bhreac. Lucky he turned up so he can run errands for me—I don’t think you and your ladies will let me out of your sight.”
“Lucky,” Josette repeated. “Strangely so.”
“Aye, well, he comes and goes—this is as usual for him. Meanwhile, I say we make use of him.”
Josette liked intrigue to be simple, but Will loved it complicated—the more so, the better. “What I understand is that you’ll have your way, Will Mackenzie.”
Will flashed her his wicked grin, the one she could never resist. “Aye. I’m glad you agree with me.”
Josette threw up her hands in exasperation. “Very well, I’ll do it—not that you’ve asked, or said please. I’ll do it for the sake of the ladies and their menfolk, but not for your enjoyment. I’ll pretend to be your wife, but only in the presence of others. When we are alone … I have already told you, this will not be like Salisbury.”
“I know.” Will’s smile remained in place, his eyes holding an intensity that was difficult to meet. He didn’t touch Josette or reach for her—he kept his hand on the table and several feet of space between them.
But he might as well have entwined her in his arms and not let go. Josette knew that accompanying him to this house would be walking into the lion’s den. The most dangerous man in there wouldn’t be Sir Harmon and his English friends. Not to her heart anyway.
“Blast you,” Josette growled. “You keep your distance, understand?”
Will took a step back and lifted his hands. “I’d never do a thing you didn’t want, my Josie.”
He spoke the stark truth. Anything he and Josette had shared, she had rushed toward, welcomed, and held close. The pain at the end had been her own fault, her reward for trying to touch a shooting star.
However Bhreac managed to procure a coach and four, as well as a pile of satin and silk clothes, he did it. There was even a pouch of coins to go with it—they’d need to tip the servants if they wanted hot water in the morning, and also have money for cards and other games ladies and gentlemen would be expected to play.
Will told Josette it was not wise to inquire too closely how Bhreac had obtained everything. But like Will, the man knew everyone in Scotland.
Josette’s difficulty was not the disguise but persuading the others that this was the best means of obtaining information.
“I should go with you,” Glenna argued, sullen. “I can be your lady’s maid. I’m a Londoner enough for them to believe it.”
“You also look enough like me for them to believe you my daughter,” Josette returned firmly.
“I can pry information out of the servants, you know that. Same as I do at home.” To Glenna, “home” was the London boarding house. She adored London, and Josette knew it would be a wrench for her when they had to leave for France. But leave they must.
“This is far more dangerous,” Josette said.
Glenna clenched her hands. “I don’t want to stay here with these Scottish biddies. They talk so I don’t understand them, and Lillias constantly scolds me.”
“For heaven’s sake.” Josette rarely shouted at Glenna, but lately the girl, on the uneasy edge of womanhood, was driving her distracted. “I am not having you running about the house of a country squire filled with the Lord knows who. You are a pretty young woman, and if you dress as a maid, you will be fair game for any of them who want an easy tumble. If you fight them, ’twill be you they blame, and if ye hurt any of them trying to get free, they’ll arrest and hang you. This is what happens in the houses of English country gentlemen.”
Glenna’s mouth hung open, her rebelliousness evaporating. “But Will and you will be there,” she said faintly.
“And if Will betrays himself in attempt to save you, he’ll be taken as a traitor, and they do horrible things to traitors. Do ye want that, daughter? To be the means of his death? Perhaps mine for harboring him?”
Glenna’s eyes fixed, her breath coming fast. She silently shook her head.
Josette softened. “Now, I don’t mean to frighten you, love, but all I say is true. It’s best you stay here, out of harm’s way. Lillias is only afraid for her husband. Try to see things from her point, and if you don’t understand the Scottish talk, ask them to teach you. You pick up languages quick enough.”
Glenna’s bravado had evaporated, and tears stood in her eyes. Josette gathered her in an embrace, burying her face in Glenna’s soft hair.
From the moment Glenna had been placed into her arms by a rather surly midwife, Josette had loved and felt a sense of intense protectiveness for this girl. Glenna was now tall and beautiful, ripe for a gentleman with no scruples to prey upon.
She’d die for this child. It might come to that, Josette knew. She walked a thin line, like acrobats she’d seen tumbling on a rope stretched tight ten feet above the ground.
She’d learned intrigue from Will Mackenzie. If Josette were to survive this, she’d have to have him teach her to be a master at it.
The carriage could not climb the rocky, boggy paths to Strathy Castle, so Will and Josette, with Bhreac, walked to a coaching inn near a village on the shores of Loch Canaird.
Will kept himself well cloaked with a hat pulled down over his eyes, stooping to hide his height. He let Bhreac and Josette deal with the man and wife at the coaching inn, pretending to be a servant in the background.
Bhreac paid the ostler for looking after their rig and Will climbed to the coachman’s box. Josette emerged from the inn with the bundles of clothes Bhreac had procured and let Bhreac hand her into the coach, he joining her.
A few miles down the rutted road, with nothing but the sea in sight, Will stopped the carriage and leapt down. He and Bhreac changed their clothing behind a boulder, giving Josette privacy to dress inside the coach.
“I need a maid,” she said through the open window. “It is impossible to lace myself. I ought to have relented and brought one of the ladies with me, I suppose.”
Will, clad now in velvet breeches, silk stockings, and a brocade coat dripping
with so many ribbons and laces the fabric could scarcely be seen, opened the door and heaved himself inside. The sight of Josette half-dressed, holding her bodice modestly over her loose corset, nearly undid him.
“Any of our ladies would betray themselves too quickly,” Will answered to distract himself. “Even the gentlest of them. Sir Harmon quartered British soldiers last year and has handed every Highlander within fifty miles of his land over to the English, whether the Highlanders fought for Prince Teàrlach or not.” He studied Josette in her undress, and grinned. “You’ll just have to make do with me.”
She did not like the prospect, Will could see, but Josette was ever practical. She sighed and turned around so he could lace her corset.
The carriage lurched forward. Bhreac, having donned coachman’s livery, had taken the reins.
Josette landed on Will’s lap. He enjoyed her soft body squirming there before he eased her away and continued with the corset. He knew to tighten the laces in the middle of her back, not top or bottom, to draw the stays to the natural curve of Josette’s body.
The bodice went over this, a pretty thing of green silk trimmed with blue ruched ribbon, and a stomacher embroidered with entwined flowers.
“Lovely,” Will breathed in her ear. “Bhreac did well.”
“He knows much about women’s clothing,” Josette said. “Perhaps you ought to question him about that.”
Will chuckled. “I know much about it too, my lady love. Do you need help with your skirts?”
Josette sent him a dark look and scrambled to her side of the carriage. She shoved the petticoat into place and slid into the overdress, tying tapes to connect the two.
Will couldn’t cease watching her, bathing in every moment. “I am remembering the other times I’ve dressed you. At Salisbury, in Paris, and that small coaching inn outside London.”
Josette kept her face averted, her loosened curls moving on her shoulders. She’d transformed in an instant from the matronly housekeeper to a lush gentlewoman used to finery and men’s attentions. Josette took off and put on personas nearly as easily as Will did.
“I remember too,” she said, her face flushed.
Will sat back, flipping ribbons out of his way. He’d be used to the ostentatious clothes by the time they reached their destination, but they certainly were annoying. How did dandies put up with them?
“Will?” Josette said, peeping up at him. “I need to tell you something.”
“Mmm?” Will’s imagination sent him all kinds of places, but he braced his feet on the floor and answered nonchalantly. “What is that, my love?”
Josette looked unhappy. Her eyes filled with anguish as she said, “I need to tell you the truth. I was not searching for you only because I needed your help. I was tasked to find you, and betray you. The ladies looking for the gold simply gave me the opportunity. I think it only fair that you know.”
Chapter 8
Will went very still. Josette waited for his reaction—would he dismiss her warning or grow enraged and throw her bodily from the coach?
Emotions Josette couldn’t read flickered through his eyes. Will was a man of deep feeling, she’d come to know, but he also hid those feelings well. Some thought him a ne’er-do-well who flitted through life not caring whom he hurt, but Josette knew better. He hid pain beneath his carefree nature, along with fears that his missions caused the misery of others.
He stretched out his long legs, clad now in finest silk, his shoes supple leather with diamonds on the buckles. His legs brushed her skirts, the warmth of him palpable.
“And who gave you this task?” Will asked quietly.
“Glenna’s father.”
Will jolted. After all these years, Josette had at last surprised him, but the victory was bitter.
“Glenna’s father, the British army officer?” he asked.
Josette hid her own surprise. She’d never told Will exactly who had fathered Glenna, but she ought to have known Will would ferret it out. Not from Glenna, who likewise did not know.
“To be fair to him, I believe he had no choice,” Josette said. “His wife’s family is rather formidable.” Indeed Oliver had been worried, haunted, looking far older than his nearly forty years when he’d met her in a public house in London. He’d sent a message late one night, and Josette, heart in her throat, had slipped out to see him.
“Fair?” Will’s voice was calm and he kept his hands quiet on his lap, but his eyes glinted with anger. “Captain Oliver Chadwick, officer of the Seventy-First Foot Guards. In France with his regiment and couldn’t resist a pretty young Frenchwoman fresh from the countryside. He has a passionate affair with her, which results in the beautiful Glenna. Except the captain has not mentioned he is married and leaves France immediately upon learning she carries his child, abandoning the lady. Her father has recently passed away, mother long deceased, and she is left to fend for herself. Tell me why I should be fair to this man?”
“You are well informed.” Josette’s breath came fast, old hurts rising. “He’s Colonel Chadwick now.”
“It is my way to be well informed. When I first looked at you, I was thunderstruck. I didn’t trust myself near you. So I found out all I could, to make certain I wasn’t about to commit a terrible blunder.”
“What blunder was that?” Josette asked softly. “Having an affair de couer with me?”
“No, stealing you from someone else.” Will drew a breath to say more, then she saw him check himself. Never give yourself away, he’d always told her. Keep your innermost secrets secret.
Josette had found that good advice—except she couldn’t seem to abide by the rule around him.
“Never mind.” Josette waved her hand. “He turned up after disappearing for sixteen or so years, and told me he’d come to take Glenna away.”
Will sat up sharply, his nonchalance evaporating. “What? Why?”
“I don’t know. He certainly had no interest in her before. I told him, quite adamantly, that I’d deny with every breath Glenna belonged to him. But he frightened me. He could take her away, and I wouldn’t be able to stop him.”
Will’s tone softened. “I know.”
A woman was not considered related to her own child by the bizarre laws of England. The man’s seed contained the whole of the baby, so they said, who nestled inside the woman for most of a year before she bore it. This made the child the father’s, not the mother’s.
“What did you promise?” Will went on. The anger had left his voice—he simply wanted to know.
“I didn’t mean to promise anything. I asked Colonel Chadwick what he wanted, mostly so he would go away. I assumed money, as he didn’t look particularly well. I’d find a way to get any sum if I had to. He told me his wife had passed away, which would explain his pallor—I also know he was very dependent on his father-in-law, and perhaps his father-in-law had tightened the purse strings once his daughter was dead. Then Chadwick took me to a corner, where no one would overhear, and told me he knew all about you and my connection with you. He’d read that you’d died but no body had been recovered. He told me that if I could produce you, alive, and hand you over to him, he’d go and never see me or put a claim on Glenna again.”
She ceased speaking, and silence fell. Wind whipped past the coach, and wheels crunched on rock, thumping over tufts of hard grass.
“Well,” Will said after a time. “That is interesting.”
Josette glared at him. “Not interesting. Disastrous. He asked me to choose between you and my daughter.” She sat back with a thump. “Bloody man.”
Will let out a sound much like a laugh. “Do I understand aright that telling me was not part of the bargain?”
“Of course not. But I knew you’d be wondering why I arrived in time to rescue you and then locked you into a castle in the middle of nowhere. The castle is also a good place to hide Glenna. Chadwick knew where to find me in London, but he’s not the sort who’ll ride across the brutal Highlands in search of her. He prefers s
oft living, which is why he married so much money.” She let out a sigh. “I knew you’d tumble to all this eventually, so I decided to save you the bother.”
Will only watched her quietly. “What do you intend to do?”
Damn him. He lounged before her, perfectly at his ease, not worried that she’d promised to deliver him to his enemies.
“I don’t yet know. I’ll not give over my daughter. If Chadwick’s filial feeling is so great, why hasn’t he sought her out before? But how can I protect her?”
The thoughts woke Josette in the night, seized her by the throat, terrified her. She imagined Colonel Chadwick bringing Glenna into his house as a servant, or at best, a poor relation—what he’d tell his wife’s family, Josette didn’t know. Glenna would be vulnerable to the attentions of the worst sort, the same reason Josette had left Glenna behind in the castle for this venture. The Highland ladies would guard her fiercely.
Josette tried to say more, but her voice broke and she fell back against the cushions.
Will was next to her before she drew another breath. His strong body surrounded her, arms supporting her like a bulwark.
“Don’t cry, love. I won’t let him anywhere near Glenna, I promise you.”
“But to ensure that, I have to betray you.” Josette wiped tears from her eyes. “He’ll not be happy until my heart is entirely broken.”
“Aye, it seems so.” Will held her closer, his lips on her hair. “Not that I intend to give myself over to him or let him take Glenna.”
Josette didn’t bother to ask how he thought he would accomplish this. He was a Mackenzie. As Lillias said, they were arrogant and duplicitous, not to mention full of unshakeable confidence.
“You may push me out of the carriage if you like,” she said, feeling defeated. “I’ll crawl back to Strathy, take Glenna, and try to run. But I’m so very tired of it.”
To her surprise, and some irritation, Will laughed softly. “I know why ye told me. Not remorse—ye know we can overcome this together. As we always did before.”
The Devilish Lord Will Page 7
