Pretty brown eyes, almost black in the dimmer light of the shack, widened. “You’re … more observant than I realized,” she said after a moment.
“Ye mean I’m less stupid than ye hoped. Do ye care to tell me what’s happened to ye then, lass?”
“I’m afraid I don’t trust you enough for that, Mr. Lenox.” Her hand shaking a little, she poured herself a cup of tea and dumped two lumps of sugar into the brew.
Wealthy, then, though he’d thought so from both her gown and her manner of speech. A poor lass would have been excited to see the sugar and used too much. This one used it without even thinking about it. “Call me Duncan,” he said, and reached down to pull the knife from his boot. Before she could do more than gasp, he set it down on the table and pushed it toward her, hilt first. “Does that help yer trust?”
She ran her finger across the flat, carved hilt of whalebone then pulled it into onto her lap. “Prentiss,” she supplied with a hesitation so slight he almost didn’t notice it. The way she kept her gaze directly on his face the entire time didn’t help his concentration, either. “Julia Prentiss.”
The name meant nothing to him. He didn’t spend much time reading the London newspapers, though, and even less perusing the Society pages, so she might have been the Prince Regent’s cousin and he’d never have known it. “Well, Miss Prentiss, would ye care for some rabbit stew?”
“I am a bit hungry,” she conceded. “You do your own cooking?”
“Here, I do. At Lenox House I have a cook. Mrs. MacDavitt,” he replied. “But I’ve yet to poison myself.”
“It’s just you at Lenox House, then? No … wife or family?”
“I answered yer question,” he countered, rising to find two bowls and ladle a generous serving of stew into each of them. “Ye tell me someaught aboot yerself.”
“I didn’t agree to this game.”
Water began tap-tapping at the windows. “Fine. I’m accustomed to solitude here, anyway.” Handing over a bowl, he seated himself again and dug into his supper.
A moment later she picked up her spoon and began eating. She had long, delicate fingers, he noticed, pretty, well-manicured hands despite the dirt currently under the nails. A proper lady’s hands. So what the devil was she doing alone in the middle of the Highlands? He could order her to talk, he supposed, but handing her a fright wouldn’t help either of them. No, she wanted to feel safe. And so he would be patient. To a point.
For several minutes they ate in relative silence while the storm came closer, the rain heavier and the thunder approaching like a giant’s footfalls. “If I needed to send a letter to Aberdeen, could you assist me with that?” she finally asked.
Duncan kept eating.
“I asked you a question, Mr. Lenox.”
“Duncan,” he corrected, and shoveled in another mouthful.
She gave an annoyed-sounding sigh. “Could you help me get a letter to Aberdeen, Duncan?”
Pushing back in his chair, he reached for a bowl of salt and then scooted up to the table again. “This isnae a soft summer shower,” he observed. “A good thing ye’re here tonight and nae ootside.”
Miss Prentiss set down her spoon, none-too-gently. “Are you going to answer my question?”
“Ye didnae answer mine. I told ye the rules. Ye’re the one didnae wish to abide by them.”
Her brown eyes narrowed. “And I told you that I’m not playing.”
He couldn’t help the smile that curved his lips. “Then I suppose we’re at an impasse, Miss Prentiss.”
CHAPTER TWO
Duncan Lenox was quite possibly the most stubborn man alive. Surely any true gentleman would immediately offer aid to a young lady as completely alone as she was. And yet there he sat, devouring his third bowl of rabbit stew and eyeing her with a damnable twinkle in his eye, as if he had nothing better to do than aggravate her.
Perhaps he didn’t have anything better to do, but she certainly did. Julia took a deliberate swallow of tea. “Mr. Lenox, I require your assistance. That should be all you—”
“Duncan,” he interrupted.
“Duncan, then, for heaven’s sake. I need to get word to Aberdeen, as soon as possible.”
“And I can see that ye do so, once we get to Lenox House. After the storm passes.”
“I’m willing to get wet in order to reach civilization.” In her world, civilization meant safety—or at least a place where people knew the rules and minded them.
He snorted. “‘Civilization’,” he repeated. “At Lenox House? Ye definitely arenae from around here.”
“Which means I have even more urgency to get word to Aberdeen.” For God’s sake, if he’d realized she hadn’t been out riding, that she had nowhere else to go, that she wasn’t dressed for the Highlands, why didn’t he also see that she needed his assistance?
Duncan eyed her, light green eyes speculative. “Have ye ever played a game called ‘questions’?” he asked.
“The children’s game where someone thinks of a thing and the others guess what it is? Yes, of course. But I’m not playing it with you if that’s what you’re suggesting.”
“I’ll just guess some things anyway, and if ye like, ye can tell me if I’m correct or nae.”
“I’m not playing,” she repeated, turning her gaze back to her rather delicious stew.
“Ye were in Aberdeen to meet yer future husband,” he said anyway.
“No.”
“Ye were in Aberdeen,” he amended, “on holiday.”
“You’re wasting time. If you want to be rid of me, it’s as simple as escorting me to Lenox House, giving me a pen and some paper, and sending out my message.”
“Ye were at a soiree,” he went on, clearly intending to ignore her interruption. “A fancy one, with dancing. I can tell that because ye’re nae wearing riding boots or walking shoes.”
“Hurray for you, Mr. M– Duncan.”
“Ye met Lord Bellamy at this party. Ye thought him a handsome lad, and so ye went off to kiss him, and then he promised ye a fine life if only ye’d come away with him to Bellamy Park, and ye—”
“I did no such thing!” Of all the nerve. “Stop talking, will you?”
Abruptly he sat forward, all trace of humor gone from his eyes. “Very well, lass. Since ye willnae give me yer circumstances, I’ll give ye mine. I’m allied with the MacLawrys. Most of them—the clan chief and his family—arenae here at the moment. My property edges onto Fersen land. We dunnae like each other, the Fersens and me. I stay oot of all the clan politics and rivalries as best I can, though, because Glengask and my nearest kinfolk are aboot seven miles away. And because I have nae brothers or cousins or uncles beneath my roof to take a stand with me. I do have beneath my roof three younger sisters and a grandmother I’ll nae allowed to be harmed or bartered for anyone’s favor.” He leaned closer still, pinning her with his direct, forest-tinted gaze. “So now I’ll ask ye again, Julia Prentiss. What sort of trouble are ye bringing to my door?”
Oh, dear. She should have kept walking. She should have kept a tighter hold of her horse and kept riding to … wherever it was she’d been heading. And she should have asked for a new hat for Christmas. Then none of this would be happening. “I didn’t mean to bring you trouble,” she said quietly, the quaking that had been unsettling her insides for the past hours and days finally pushing her toward tears. “It found me. And maybe it was my own stupid fault, but—”
He reached out, grabbing her hand. The spoon she held clattered to the tabletop. “What happened?” he repeated, his voice quieter.
She had to tell him. However reluctant a hero he might be, her need for assistance remained. And she simply wasn’t daft enough to go out into the storm in the middle of the night and hope for a more enthusiastic rescue. “I was in Aberdeen,” she conceded, “with my mother and my sister. We were there for my aunt’s wedding. We weren’t going to attend, because it’s the Season in London and because it’s so far from home, but I told my parents that all
I wanted for Christmas was a holiday in Scotland. I very much enjoy the writings of Walter Scott.” She blinked, realizing she was blabbering.
His expression, though, didn’t alter. “And?” he prompted, still holding her hand.
After what she’d been through, his grip should have dismayed or frightened her, but it didn’t. His fingers were gentle, and she knew she could pull away if she chose to do so. A comforting touch … Perhaps she was being a ninny, but it was welcome.
“After the wedding my aunt’s husband’s parents held a large party. Lord Bellamy and a great many other peers were there. I knew Lord Bellamy from London, and so when he asked me to dance, I agreed. He was always very pleasant and even if he had something of a reputation for being a fortune hunter, he seemed … harmless enough.” She frowned. “I didn’t even think about that. It was simply nice to see someone I knew.”
Julia cleared her throat. Whatever stupidity had gotten her here, it was far too late to do anything about that. Now she needed to get out of this situation. “We danced, and he said how pleasant it was to see me there and wasn’t the weather lovely. Then he stumbled, and said he felt light-headed. I—stupid thing that I am—I helped him out to the balcony. The next thing I knew someone had put a cloth over my face. I awoke in a carriage with my hands and feet bound, and Bellamy sitting across from me asking just how much money I would be worth upon my marriage.”
Duncan muttered something beneath his breath. She couldn’t quite make it out, and she wasn’t even certain it had been in English, but it sounded rather deadly. His hand tugged her closer, and then he pushed her sleeve up a bit. After three days of being unbound the bruises and scratches had begun to fade, but they were still there. “Did he hurt ye?” he asked, very quietly.
“No. When we arrived at Bellamy Park, he untied me, showed me to a very nice room, and told me that I was now utterly ruined and that he’d left behind a note saying we’d eloped. He would give me a day or two to decide to behave, and then he would have us married.” She gave a bitter chuckle. “Evidently he didn’t want an unwilling bride at the church. Just one who’d realized that she had no alternative if she ever wanted to show her face in public again.”
“Bastard.”
Julia slammed her free fist against the table. “And it would have worked, because I flirted with him, and people saw it. And because I put my arm around him while we walked to the balcony.”
“But ye’re nae married to him, I assume.”
She lifted her head again, meeting his gaze. “No, I am not. I decided I would rather be ruined than married to that man and allow him to get a penny of my money.”
“Well. Good fer ye, Julia. Ye showed a pound of spleen, running oot into the Highlands with nowhere to go and nae idea where ye were.”
“I don’t know whether it was spleen or idiocy, but at least it was my choice.”
“Aye. Nae a pleasant Christmas gift at all, though.”
“Not particularly.” So now he knew her story. She watched his face carefully, looking for any sign that he would help her, or put her out in the rain, or worse, see her as an opportunity for himself. After all, while she hadn’t said just how wealthy she was, she had told him that an aristocrat had been willing to kidnap her to claim her money. Unless he’d missed that bit—an act of providence about which she wasn’t willing to wager.
Abruptly he pushed to his feet. “Do ye play chess?” he asked, walking over to one of the cupboards and pulling open a door.
“What?”
“Chess. Do ye play it?” As she watched, he pulled down a wooden board and a small box and returned to the table.
“I … A little, I suppose. I haven’t played in years. Why are we going to play chess? I told you my story, and you said you would help me if I did.”
He grinned as he resumed his seat. “Well, we’re nae going anywhere tonight. We’ll head for Lenox Hoose in the morning, if the rain lets up, and then we’ll figure oot a plan.”
Duncan could tell from her expression that she would rather they came up with a plan tonight, but for the devil’s sake, he needed a moment or two to consider what she’d told him. Whatever dastardly thing Bellamy had done, the earl was not a man to be taken lightly. This was the sort of thing that began clan wars, one man taking in another’s woman—whether the woman in question had any wish to be where she was, or not. And of course beneath all of that logic, he very much wanted to hunt down Bellamy and put a hole or two through him.
She kept looking at him with those pretty brown eyes of hers. “What?” he finally asked, pausing as he set up the chessboard.
“We’re going to stay here tonight? The two of us?”
“Aye.” He grimaced. “I take yer meaning, lass. Ye’ve naught to fear. Ye can have the bed. I’ll be sitting up, just in case.”
“You mean in case Bellamy comes looking for me here.” Her expression didn’t alter; the thought had already occurred to her, then. “Just how likely is that to happen?”
“I’ve nae idea. There’s a great deal of land between Bellamy and here, but I reckon he’d prefer to look in more obvious places, because it’s easier. And because it’s storming outside.”
She nodded, and another lock of her auburn hair came down from the disheveled bun at her crown. “And a man who kidnaps a woman rather than actually attempting to woo her would prefer the easier way.”
“Precisely.” He liked that she had a logical bent to her thinking; most other lasses would either be in a fair way to panicking all over again or would have given up when they lost the horse. If they’d had the courage to run at all.
“What if he does come?”
Duncan drew a breath. What he wished to do wasn’t even close to being the wiser course of action, but he needed to use his brain rather than his fists. “Honestly, I’d prefer if I didnae have to fight him,” he said aloud. “When two men from … unfriendly clans get into a brawl here, it can have ramifications.”
“So you’ll simply hand me back to him?” She stood, her chair falling over backward behind her and the knife he’d given her in her right hand. “I won’t allow that!”
“Perhaps ye’ll let me finish what I was saying before ye stick me, Julia. If ye dunnae mind.”
“I wouldn’t stick you. I would stab him.”
He couldn’t help grinning at that. “I’m all reassured, then.” Moving slowly on the chance that she would forget what she’d just said and stab him anyway, he stood up and walked toward the bed. Taking the short footboard in his hands, he shoved the thing sideways.
Straw covered the floor there, as it did everywhere else. Brushing a bit of it aside, he found the indentation in the floor, dug his fingers into it, and lifted. “If he does come calling, ye’ll hide in here. I’ll nae suggest ye spend the night in here, though, because it’s a wee bit cramped. And dark.”
She walked up to where he crouched and bent forward to peer into the dark, wood-lined hole about the size of the bed that hid it. “Why do you have a priesthole in your floor?”
“My great-grandfather and most of his cotters were Jacobites. So I suppose it’s a Jacobite hole. If any Sasannach soldiers came ’round, most cotters had a place to hide bonny Prince Charlie’s followers, if need be.”
She nodded, putting a hand on his shoulder as she leaned closer. “Would Bellamy know about it?”
“I doubt it. The hole’s been there a hundred years, nearly. I’ve kept it repaired because … Well, because I’m a cautious lad, and I have sisters.” He could feel her chuckle through her hand. It sent an interesting warmth running beneath his skin. Sternly he pushed the sensation away. She was likely to be enough trouble without adding lust into the mix.
“Is the hole to hide you, or them?”
He dropped the wood cover back over, scattered the loose straw to show her how well hidden it lay, and pulled the bed back in place over it. “They know aboot it, so it wouldnae do me much good. I have been tempted though, on occasion.”
“How o
ld are they? Your sisters, I mean,” she asked, following him back to the table.
“Sorcha’s sixteen, Bethia’s thirteen, and Keavy’s just nine. Sorcha turned into a banshee aboot a year ago, so I reckon I’ve got a year or two of sense left from Bethia, and hopefully half a decade from Keavy.”
When he finished setting up the chess pieces and looked up at his guest, the lass was smiling at him. “You’re very fond of them, aren’t you?” she said.
“They’re my sisters. I love them. They’ll have me mad as a hatter and white-haired as a winter rabbit, but they and Grandmama Maevis are my only family.”
“I think I was luckier today than I ever realized,” she said after a moment, her smile fading. “I am quite aware that I might just as easily have stumbled across another Hugh Fersen or his ilk. Thank you, Duncan Lenox.”
“Dunnae thank me til ye’re safe with yer family.” He realized he was staring at her mouth, and cleared his throat, shoving the board in her direction. “White or black?”
“Black,” she answered, turning the chessboard so the white-painted wood pieces were aligned in front of him and the black ones toward her.
He shifted a pawn out and sat back to watch her. What was he going to do with her? The easiest, safest thing for him and his sisters would be to return Julia Prentiss to Bellamy. A man with sisters would have to be damned to ever do such a thing, though. Just the idea of someone dragging off one of his bonny girls made him ill and angry. No, not angry. Blood-boilingly furious, more like. And surprising or not, it was an easy thing to muster the same emotion when he imagined this lass in Bellamy’s grasp.
The next best option would be for him to put her up on another horse and escort her back to Aberdeen immediately. That, though, would leave Lenox House vulnerable should Bellamy come looking for her—or for a substitute bride, if he was frustrated enough. Lord Glengask would have been a help, if he hadn’t been in London chasing after his younger sister. Bear MacLawry was a possibility, but Glengask’s youngest brother was as likely to start a fight with Bellamy as to resolve the situation.
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