Will didn’t seem to be bothered by the man’s presence at all. As Bhreac halted the coach, Will stepped forward, tore open the coach’s door, and hauled Josette out and into his arms.
He smelled of warm wool and the outdoors, and the bite of whisky he’d drunk to stave off the cold. Will pulled her into a strong embrace, his body like a wall of comfort.
He held Josette then eased back and gazed at her as though nothing else existed but the two of them. The Highlands, the gold, and Mr. Macdonald could blow away on the breeze. Josette wished they would.
“Mr. Naughton,” Captain Ellis was saying, gladness in his voice. “Well met.”
Josette now recognized the man called Naughton from her visit to Kilmorgan, but she wasn’t certain whether to be relieved or alarmed. Why was the Duke of Kilmorgan’s trusted majordomo here?
“He’s keeping an eye on friend Macdonald,” Will answered her unspoken question. He tucked Josette’s hand under his arm as they faced the others, including Bhreac, who’d jumped down from his perch. “You remember Naughton, Josie.”
“Mrs. Oswald,” Naughton said politely, though his eyes betrayed happiness at seeing her. “I trust you are well?”
“As well as can be expected, Mr. Naughton. And you?”
“Aye, well.” In England, a man might make light of his troubles or hide them to be polite, but Josette had learned that if she asked a Highlander how his day had gone, he’d tell her. “’Tis much trouble fetching and carrying for Clennan Macdonald, I will say.”
“I’m sure Will would send you to the family in Paris if you wished,” Josette said. “There’s no need for you to stay.”
Naughton gave her his faint smile. “Then I wouldn’t be here watching what Macdonald gets up to. I serve the family better if I remain.”
“Macdonald is out to get his hands on Kilmorgan,” Will announced. “I will stop him.”
The words weren’t spoken in anger or with vehemence but with quiet certainty.
“Shall we see what he gave us?” Captain Ellis asked. “Or wait until we’re back at Sir Harmon’s?”
“Might as well have a look,” Will said, sounding cheerful.
Captain Ellis lifted the cask from the coach seat and handed it to Will, whose eyes widened slightly at its weight.
Will touched the lock, which was new and bright, contrasting the aged patina of the box’s wood. “He doesn’t want us to know what’s inside, does he? Bhreac, keep a lookout.”
“What d’ye think I’m doing?” Bhreac growled. He scanned the road and the lands beyond, glowering as though the very rocks had better take care.
Will nudged stones with his boot until he found one that fitted well in his hand. He set the cask on a boulder, hefted the stone he’d chosen, and then bashed the innocent hasp with all his strength.
The lock broke, and Will opened the lid.
Josette leaned over his arm, her heart pounding as she saw what lay inside. “Oh ... my ...”
The box was filled with shimmering coins. Josette reached in and plucked one out, holding it up to the weak sunlight. The profile of Louis of France winked back at her.
“Louis d’or,” she said in awe.
One of these could feed all the ladies holed up at Strathy Castle for a week. The lot in the box could purchase the freedom of their husbands, brothers, and sons, with enough left over to pay Colonel Chadwick so he’d forget about capturing Will or threatening to take Glenna away. Or to let Josette and Glenna flee to a far corner of the Continent where Colonel Chadwick would never find them.
Will plucked out a folded piece of paper that lay beneath the coins. This proved to be, when unfolded, the list of names of people Macdonald and Sir Harmon wanted Sir William and Anna to visit and spy on.
“No wonder Macdonald said that if we opened it up and spent what was inside, he’d know,” Josette said. “Word would get around if we tried to exchange a cask full of Louis d’or or use them in a shop.”
“Aye, the shopkeepers and bankers would talk,” Will said, his voice holding an undercurrent of excitement. “My love, I believe we’ve just found the French gold. Well ... some of it, anyway.”
* * *
Will held his glee in check with difficulty as the coach rolled down the road, returning them to Sir Harmon’s.
Naughton had said his good-byes and trudged back toward Macdonald’s large home, his back straight with new strength. Captain Ellis and Will exchanged clothes again, and Captain Ellis now rode alongside the carriage as their escort.
Ellis had told Will as they’d dressed all that transpired inside Shieldag, including Macdonald recognizing Josette as Alec’s model, though not by name. Ellis also relayed the disgusting things the man had said to her and his own wish to call Macdonald out.
“How you let Mrs. Oswald into circumstances where men can be so loathsome to her is beyond my understanding.” Captain Ellis had scowled at Will. “Kill the man and have done.”
Will had no answer for this, because he knew Ellis was right. He should never have let Josette into that house, not even for the great cause of finding the gold.
“We’ll have him,” Will said tersely. “He’s likely sitting on much more than he gave us. Cheer up. Soon you can have the satisfaction of hauling Macdonald in for treason.”
“If we can make it stick,” Ellis pointed out. “He might have the French gold, he might be keeping it from King George, and he might be handing secrets to British enemies. At this point, we only know he’s an unpleasant man who has no respect for ladies.”
“Oh, he’s conducting dirty deeds all right,” Will said. “It is his way. Macdonald doesn’t know how not to be involved in chicanery. I promise that if you can’t convince a magistrate he’s a traitor, then I will kill him myself. I won’t bother calling him out and following the prissy rules of dueling—I’ll simply shoot him.”
Captain Ellis wasn’t satisfied, and neither was Will. But Macdonald had made a mistake insulting Josette, and he’d pay for it.
As the carriage made its slow way over the narrow road, Will watched Josette in the dying light. Shadows brushed her face, which was lined with tiredness. Josette was resilient, but the sooner they finished this, the better.
“Is Mr. Macdonald a fool?” Josette asked. “To hand us what is obviously gold coins from France? To the idiot Sir William Jacobs and his wife, who once knew Alec Mackenzie well?”
Will shook his head. “These coins could plausibly have come from his sound investments in France, which no doubt he’d claim if we grew too curious and opened the box. If we spend the money without bothering with his man of business, I have the feeling Macdonald would send lackeys to visit us in the night and explain why it’s a bad idea to disobey.” He stretched his arms, the lace on his sleeves making strange patterns on the coat’s velvet. “And while he found a connection between you and a Mackenzie, he truly believes us all dead and gone, and he also has no idea that women can think, reason, or speak coherently. Not that he wouldn’t make use of you if he decided to, but he does not believe you’d tumble to his schemes. Last, what better way to hide the gold than have a lackwit gamble with it on the Exchange and take the payout in English money back to Macdonald?”
Josette listened thoughtfully. “I suppose that is logical. To him, I mean. Sir Harmon must pass Macdonald likely dupes to gather information for him and wash his money clean—I wonder how many of Sir Harmon’s other guests are under a similar thrall. If those dupes are caught, they answer to the law, not Macdonald or Sir Harmon, two prominent men who can spread their hands and be amazed such simpletons accuse them.”
“Very likely,” Will said. He looked forward to turning the tables on Macdonald, especially given the man’s obsession with Kilmorgan. That worried him far more than Macdonald’s need to buy himself unwitting spies.
“How do we find out if he has the rest of the gold?” Josette asked. “Dig up his cellar?”
“If it comes to that.” Will fixed her with his gaze. “You won’
t be doing any digging at all. I want you to put this money to good use and take Glenna to Paris. You’ll stay with my family, who’ll look after you and keep Glenna’s father at bay.”
Josette’s dark eyes widened. “I will, will I?”
Will’s temper, which he’d managed to keep in check all day, burst at the seams. “Damn it, lass, I won’t have ye roaming the countryside for one of my dangerous schemes only to be insulted by lechers like Macdonald. My brothers have a comfortable house in your native land and plenty of friends. You and your daughter will dine well and be protected for the rest of your lives. If you’re worried about Colonel Chadwick, never mind about him. I’ll deal with him and be done, have no fear.”
Josette’s eyes sparkled dangerously. “Are you finished?”
“Not really, but I have a feeling you’re going to shout at me. Go ahead—but you’re off to France, and that is the end of it.”
“My high-handed friend, you are not my husband. I agree about using the money to send Glenna to safety, and I will do that. But I’ll not leave you behind in these isles where you are captured and tortured by British officers and risk your life looking for the rest of the gold. If you want me and Glenna in France, then come there with us.”
Come with us. Will gazed out the window, his anger dropping away. He knew, at that moment, why he traveled to Scotland so often, despite the danger, why he’d never, ever settle down in France, and why he’d do anything in his power to keep Josette here with him. The conflict between wanting that and needing her to be safe tore at him.
“I cannae,” he said softly. “I must stay.”
The astonishing thing about Josette was that she understood. Will did not have to explain that Scotland was a part of himself, and he was a part of it. That he could no more not come back here than cease breathing.
And he could not let Macdonald have Kilmorgan.
“He wants my home,” Will said abruptly. “To prove to the world that the Duke of Kilmorgan and the Mackenzies are defeated and gone. If we do nothing, then he is right, and we are finished.”
Josette leaned forward and put her hand on his knee. The strength of her touch came through his finely woven velvet breeches with a vibrancy Will loved.
“Do you think I can leave you to fight him alone? I learned from talking to Mr. Macdonald for less than an hour that he is a crafty devil, maybe even as clever as you. But I’m crafty too, Will. I don’t want him walking over your family’s estate, or your ancestors’ bones. I’ll send my daughter to safety and fight him with you.”
Will dragged his gaze from the hills and focused on Josette. She looked back at him, determination glowing from her.
Mackenzies needed strong women, Malcolm liked to say, so they wouldn’t be dashed to pieces on them. Old Dan Mackenzie, so the legend went, found such a woman in the lass who’d risked all to run off with him, and who’d been instrumental in helping him win the lands of Kilmorgan in the first place.
Down the centuries, Mackenzie women had bred strong sons, and daughters too, had taken up arms to fight beside their husbands. They’d fought for Kilmorgan, for their families, for their lives.
Will would never let Clennan Macdonald, or some English lordling—anyone—take what those men and women had so furiously fought for.
Will closed his hand over Josette’s, gripping hard. He hadn’t realized he was shaking until he found Josette’s steadiness.
“I do want ye to stay with me, lass. For now and for always. Can ye do that, do you think?”
Chapter 19
Will’s hand on Josette’s was hot and solid, his strength unnerving.
What was he asking? To continue with him on his travels, by his side, as his partner? Or as something more?
Josette did not dare wish for more. She’d want to hang on to him, and Will was not a man who took well to clinging.
But who was she to turn up her nose at his offer to keep her by his side? For how long was a question for another time.
“I believe I can manage,” Josette said. “But Glenna must be safe.”
“We’ll send her to Celia and Mary.” Will’s face set with new determination. “Glenna will kick up a fuss, I predict, but send her we will.”
“Of course she will—she’s sixteen. But I’ll not have her running about the Highlands while men like Mr. Macdonald are in them. Nor will I let Chadwick take her away from me.” Josette said the last with a tremor.
“Neither will I, believe me. And no, he’ll not have me either.” Will touched the box by his side. “I have plans for this gold, love, and for Clennan Macdonald. Help me carry them out?”
Josette squeezed his hand, glad he’d ceased talking about sending her away. She made her choice, and would take the consequences. “I’d be happy to.”
* * *
By the time they reached Sir Harmon’s, midnight’s dusk hung in the sky.
The restless guests roamed the house—they’d barely noticed Sir William’s and Anna’s absence, though they greeted them with interest upon their return—anything to relieve the ennui.
Will gave the casket to Captain Ellis for safekeeping. He trusted the captain, and knew even the hardiest soul would think twice about robbing a British cavalry captain who’d been decorated for bravery.
Not that Will would mention to the other guests what his errand had been about. Will only shook his head when asked why he’d gone off into the wilderness.
“It’s beautiful country,” Josette said when pressed. “Not civilized by any means, but lovely in its own wild way.”
“Did you tramp about like Scotsmen?” one of the gentlemen asked, wrinkling his powdered nose. “How awful.”
“Good heavens no.” Josette looked shocked he’d suggest it. “We had the coach.”
Henri did not look happy with Will, but he fortunately kept his resentment to himself. He was young and wanted things to happen now, Will understood. He understood all too well.
Soon, lad.
Sir Harmon cornered Will on the terrace in the rear of the house while the other guests settled down for cards.
“Satisfied?” he asked Will.
“Oh, yes.” Will let his voice grow fervent. “You and Mr. Macdonald are giving me so much for so little.”
“The terms are to your liking?”
“Of course. I’m your man.”
Sir Harmon’s eyes held a sparkle of triumph. He thinks he’s just snared his fish, Will thought. He’s probably snared every man and woman in this house.
“Good. You’ll understand then, when I ask you to leave tomorrow. To begin your visits,” Sir Harmon added curtly to Will’s wide-eyed stare.
“Oh, yes, yes, I understand. Tomorrow? So soon. I’m not certain my wife will be ready as early as tomorrow. The ladies, you know, with the packing …”
“The next day then, at the latest.” Sir Harmon pretended indifference, but Will saw his impatience.
What secrets did the people Macdonald and Sir Harmon want him to talk to hold? Will had glanced at the list and recognized several of the names—one had stood out in particular—but he didn’t know all of them, which was odd. Will knew so very many people, or at least of them. Captain Ellis might know those Will didn’t—he’d ask him about the rest.
“If you do not mind, I’d like to take your footman, Henri, with us,” Will said. “I’ll need someone to carry things for me, and he’s a sturdy lad.”
Sir Harmon’s brows furrowed in true confusion. “Who?”
“I believe you call him John. The West Indies lad who carried our fishing things.”
“Oh, him.” Sir Harmon waved him away. “The boy’s a bit ham-handed, but I suppose there’s no harm in you borrowing him.”
The man had absolutely no idea who Henri truly was or where he’d come from. For that, Will should have gutted him with the fish knife himself.
Will forced himself to beam at Sir Harmon. “Thank you, sir. I’ll return him in one piece.”
* * *
Not until after breakfast did Will manage to escape with Josette to the summerhouse where they met Captain Ellis. Will insisted Henri join them, and the young man did so with great reluctance. He didn’t want to attend anything so tame as a conference, and was doubly unhappy that Will had persuaded Sir Harmon to let Henri accompany Will when they departed.
“Don’t want to go,” Henri said stubbornly. “What’ll he get up to while we’re gone, eh?”
Will gave Henri a stern look. “Lad, I’m not leaving you here to murder Sir Harmon and then be tortured and executed for it. When the time comes, Sir Harmon will have his comeuppance, and you can tell the world all the things he has done. Preferably in front of elderly, bad-tempered, long-wigged judges who will sentence him to the worst.”
“No judge in a court is going to listen to the likes of me,” Henri said with a scowl.
“They will if I have anything to do with it. They do not like trumped-up, new men who have lied, cheated, and slaughtered their way into the soft life. Sir Harmon will not last, I promise you.”
“It’s the best way,” Josette told him in her gentle tones. “You will be a hero and go on to live your life. That is the best revenge of all.”
Will agreed with her—partly. Living well after trouncing your enemies and making certain they stayed down was even better.
“She is right,” Captain Ellis said. “Let the law take care of Sir Harmon.”
Henri glowered but subsided. He wandered to the door to be a lookout, and Will turned to Captain Ellis.
“Do you know who these people are?” Will asked him, indicating a few names on the list. “I’ve never run across them.”
Captain Ellis nodded as he tapped the paper. “He is the uncle-in-law of the Lord High Admiral. And this is the second cousin of the war minister. Not men of extreme power themselves, but they have connections and are powerful within their own families.”
The Devilish Lord Will: Mackenzies, Book 10 Page 17
