A Rose in the Highlands (Highland Roses School)

by Heather McCollum

  Scarlet stared at her sister, a crease in her brow. “You’ve already said that.” Damn. Scarlet always knew when she was lying.

  Evelyn waved her hand in dismissal. “I will be in the kitchen.” She took two steps forward and stopped as the front doors banged in the entryway.

  “He’s taken Izzy,” Cat said, her voice filling the rafters as she ran inside. She leaned forward over the table, fists set to brace herself, her chest rising and falling in a need for air. Ceò leaped up at the intrusion, her puppies yipping around her.

  “Who has?” Evelyn yelled to be heard over the dogs as she rushed toward Cat.

  Cat’s eyes narrowed, the worry hardening into sharp hatred. “Cross’s man, Burdock.”

  Evelyn’s stomach clenched. “Oh no,” she said on a breath. “Did he…harm her?” Was the man so evil as to push his way onto a child?

  Cat shook her head. “Not in the way your face says ye are thinking, though I wouldn’t put it past him. He was there for me, but I have a hiding place up in the trees. Izzy didn’t know that and tried to scare him off by throwing stones at him.”

  Evelyn’s mind raced. “Good God.”

  “He caught her as she ran off,” Cat said. “I’d left my bow below or the bastard would be dead cold by now and buried so no one could find him.”

  “You didn’t yell for him to leave her?” Scarlet asked, her voice neutral.

  Cat rounded on her. “If I had, neither of us would be here to tell Grey what the bloody English have done.”

  “She’s right,” Evelyn said, her mind skipping forward to Grey riding headfirst into a line of muskets, his beautiful body being pocked with iron shot. “But we can’t tell Grey.”

  “What?” Cat yelled. “Where is he?”

  Evelyn came up to her. “They will kill him before he’s even had a chance to talk to Cross. He’ll ride in there brandishing his sword, and they’ll open fire.” She looked around the hall and grabbed her shawl. “I will go to Captain Cross. Tell him one of my students is missing and ask for his help.”

  “Grey won’t be happy with that,” Alana said, shaking her head. “He doesn’t think any woman should go to the English stronghold.”

  “Even a Sassenach?” Evelyn asked, her mouth tight.

  “Well, you aren’t going alone,” Scarlet said, crossing her arms under her breasts.

  “I’ll take James. He can drive the coach, he’s English, and he has a musket,” Evelyn said, signaling to Molly. “Go find him, please.” Molly ran out the front to the bailey murmuring something about blood and bones.

  “I’m better at dealing with slimy men than you,” Scarlet said and grabbed her shawl, though Evelyn noticed that she trembled.

  “Stay here, Scar,” Evelyn said. “I don’t want to worry about you.” She strode to the door with Cat and Alana right behind her, the small herd of dogs running about their skirts. Out front, James was jogging to the stables, Thomas on his heels. Minutes ticked by while they waited, and Evelyn realized they had drawn notice from the watchtower.

  “Act like you are enjoying the weather,” she said.

  “What?” Cat asked, hissing.

  “We are being watched,” Evelyn said and waved to Hamish as if nothing was wrong.

  James drove the carriage up to the steps. He wore a grim face and held his musket across his lap.

  “I’m coming with ye,” Cat said, and before Evelyn could open her mouth, the woman hiked her skirt up and hoisted herself into the carriage.

  “She better stay hidden, or at least her mouth shut,” Scarlet said and traipsed past Evelyn to join her in the carriage.

  Evelyn forced a calm smile at Hamish as he walked over, having climbed down from the tower. “We are going for a ride to see Cat’s cottage. James has his musket, so we are perfectly safe.”

  Hamish frowned, glancing at the sky. “Hurry back if a storm approaches.” He turned and jogged to the raised gate.

  “What about me?” Alana asked as Evelyn set her foot on the carriage step.

  “Stay here with the puppies,” Evelyn said. “And if Grey comes back, don’t tell him where we’ve gone.”

  Alana wrung her hands. “I can never hide things from him. He always pulls the truth out of me.”

  “Then go visit Rebecca or Kirstin,” Evelyn said, and pushed inside the cramped carriage. She cut a glare to both passengers, arranged opposite each other. “And I would forbid you two to go, but I don’t want to waste precious time wrestling you out of the carriage.”

  Cat snorted. “Like ye could move me.” She crossed her arms and glared.

  “The English could take you,” Evelyn said. “On some false reason.”

  “Ye need someone who can throw a dirk,” Cat said, leaning into the seat, as if she were literally digging in her heels.

  Evelyn settled next to Scarlet. “James has a musket.”

  “Which will be useless if rain puts out the flame,” Cat said and rapped on the roof. “Let us away!”

  James’s face appeared upside down in the window. “I told Thomas to stay back.”

  “Wise,” Evelyn said.

  “Let us away,” Cat repeated. “It’s up the main road, north. Hurry.”

  Evelyn nodded to James, and his face disappeared above, as he clicked to the two horses. They rocked forward and rolled out of the gates. If all went well, they’d be back with Isabel before Grey even realized they were gone.

  …

  “I will be back later this evening,” Grey said to Rebecca.

  “He’s doing much better now,” Rebecca said. “I keep changing out the snails and piping feverfew into him. His skin is cool again.”

  He cut a last glance toward his best friend, who slept on his stomach. “Send for me if ye need anything.” Turning, he trudged out into the late morning, the tension in his chest lessened after seeing Aiden’s improvement. He stretched his arms overhead as he walked through the woods, his mind drifting to Evelyn, the sweetest tasting lass he’d ever known. He’d kissed her in the dark alcove one last time after their tryst in the kitchen.

  Grey paused in his stride and ran a hand down his face. Damn, he’d forgotten to wipe up the smashed tarts. As soon as Evelyn had disappeared up the steps, Kerrick had come into the hall, and they’d walked together, discussing the new wall, and then he’d gone to check on Aiden. If the maid had come across the mess, Evelyn would flush from her tiny toes to her scalp. He’d make it up to her tonight. He smiled and began to whistle a quick little tune from Beltane.

  Evelyn—a proper school matron on the outside, a carnal and passionate goddess on the inside. Her courage and determination had called to him from the moment she refused to move off his front steps, even with the point of a sword at her breast. And yet she worried that he would see her as weak for a few shed tears.

  Grey walked out from the forest line and waved to Kerrick, who talked with Craig at the smithy. As he strode over, the sound of wagon wheels pulled his gaze toward the far end of the lane. Not a wagon but a carriage, and the only carriage in Killin was the one that had carried Evelyn here. His mouth tightened, cutting off his whistle.

  “Where is the Worthington coach going?” he asked Kerrick as he walked up.

  Craig chuckled. “With some luck, back to England.”

  They watched it disappear around a bend farther up. “Nay,” Kerrick said. “They head north.”

  “She’d have no reason to seek out Donald at Balloch Castle or the Menzies clan,” Craig said, his voice dropping. His eyes narrowed under his bushy brows. “She’s going to the English compound, to Cross.”

  “For what purpose?” Kerrick asked, turning toward Craig, his face hard with annoyance.

  “To complain about us,” Craig said, gesturing toward Grey. “Trying to get ye out of Finlarig for good.”

  The old man had no idea how ridiculous h
is accusation was, and Grey wasn’t about to waste time trying to turn his poor opinion. Not when Evelyn might be riding into the devil’s den. Without another word, he turned on his heel and jogged off toward Finlarig. He heard Kerrick following. His friend lengthened his stride to run alongside.

  They reached the open gate. “Ho,” Hamish yelled down, his arm raised.

  “Was Evelyn in the carriage that left?” Grey yelled up.

  Hamish turned to climb down the ladder, taking his damn time to walk over. Grey nearly abandoned the man to run to the stable for Adhar, but Hamish picked up his pace. “They were taking Cat back to her cottage, Lady Evelyn and Lady Scarlet.”

  “Cat doesn’t live north of Killin,” Kerrick said, frowning at Grey. “Her cottage is due west and hidden in the forest. A carriage wouldn’t even be able to get back there.”

  Hamish rubbed his beard. “North, ye say? Aye, ye’re right. Perhaps they were just going for a ride first. Cat’s probably never been inside a coach before.”

  “Evelyn should be teaching class this afternoon,” Grey said, his voice low.

  “Aye,” Hamish said, frowning. “Two lasses walked inside.”

  Grey’s hands fisted. “Alana wasn’t with Evelyn?”

  “Nay, just their man, James, and the three ladies.”

  Grey strode forward, taking the steps up to the keep in two large leaps. His palm cupped the pommel of his sword, his warrior’s instincts alert, making his blood pump faster. “Alana,” he called as he walked into the great hall, but it was empty. He passed the table where half-empty bowls of tea sat and took the steps two at a time up to the second floor.

  Inside the library, Alana was handing primer books to the girls. “Where did Evelyn go?” he asked. “And her sister and Cat?”

  Alana stared at him, and tried to frown at his interruption, but the uncertainty in her eyes made her look nervous. “Cat’s house.”

  Anger hardened his features as he stared at his sister. “They are riding north. Cat lives west.”

  The two girls from the village looked back and forth between them. Alana squared her shoulders. “I don’t know, then. They said they were going for a ride and would see Cat home. I was to stay here to help Fiona and Martha with their letters.” As if sensing her unease, Ceò came to stand next to her. No matter that Grey made sure the dog, her puppies, and her mate were fed, the dog’s loyalty remained with Alana.

  Kerrick came inside from the corridor. “What was Cat even doing here? She made it plain that she wasn’t interested in learning from a Sassenach.”

  Alana’s mouth opened and closed, and then she shrugged. “She came to see if Izzy was about.” Her lips clamped shut. Grey knew what his sister’s anxiety looked like, and it almost always stemmed from the English.

  “They are going to Cross,” Grey said. “To the English stronghold.”

  “I didn’t say that,” Alana said, her face falling.

  “Why?” Grey asked, stepping closer to her. “’Tis dangerous there.”

  Alana grabbed his arm, her nails digging through the sleeve of his shirt. “Don’t go running after them with your sword drawn,” she said, her voice high. “Evelyn says they will shoot ye.”

  “Bloody hell,” Kerrick said. “Why the hell would they go to Cross?”

  “Promise me,” Alana said, meeting Grey’s gaze. “Don’t go running in there. Cross will use any excuse to kill ye.”

  Grey pierced his sister’s gaze. After Evelyn’s confrontation with Burdock and then Cross’s cold reception, he knew she wouldn’t ride into their lair without a good reason. “What does the bastard have that Evelyn is going to get back?” But as the question came from his mouth, the pieces fell together. Cat climbing into an Englishwoman’s carriage. Evelyn racing north. Grey hadn’t seen Izzy all morning.

  He dropped Alana’s arms and turned toward the door. “Cross has Izzy.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “Stay inside the carriage,” Evelyn said, piercing Cat with her fiercest glare. “I don’t want to have to get you out of here, too.”

  Cat’s face pinched in mutiny, but she didn’t deny the logic in remaining behind. James opened the door, and Evelyn put her hand in his to step out. Scarlet slid over on the seat to follow, holding up a hand when Evelyn turned to her.

  “Strength in numbers, sister,” Scarlet said.

  Evelyn huffed softly but let James help her down. In their haste to leave, she hadn’t had time to don a fashionable dress. In fact, the dress she wore had bilberry smeared across the back. At least she’d rewound her hair into a knot at her nape.

  James squeezed her fingers. “I will come with you. I have my musket.”

  She smiled confidently at him. “We will be fine. These are Englishmen, not our enemy.”

  One of his gray eyebrows rose, silently questioning her statement.

  A central square was surrounded by wooden barracks. Three lines of men stood at attention with their muskets on their shoulders. A guard tower soared above the tree line off to the left where a uniformed soldier watched. She could feel his stare and lifted her chin. Stares didn’t bother her. She’d survived thundering and piercing stares from her father. One thing Lord Benjamin Worthington had taught his daughter was how to stand before a noose without showing any outward sign of concern.

  A soldier stepped from a two-story rectangular building, which backed up to the forest on the right. The English flag snapped in the breeze on top. He wore a brightly colored uniform and a smile across his clean-shaven, young face. “Hello,” he said, striding over. He bowed his head in greeting. “I am Ensign Morris. Are you in need of assistance?”

  “Thank you, yes,” Evelyn said and tipped her head forward in greeting. “I am Lady Evelyn Worthington, and this is my sister, Lady Scarlet.”

  “The ladies of the Highland Roses Parish School,” he said, his smile fading. “Is there trouble at Finlarig?”

  “Yes. I would speak with Captain Cross about the abduction of one of my young students, just this morning.”

  “Good Lord,” Ensign Morris said, his eyes widening. “I will call a group together to retrieve the girl.”

  “Wonderful,” Evelyn said smoothly. “Her name is Isabel Campbell, and she was taken, without her consent, by your Lieutenant Marcus Burdock.”

  “Lieutenant Burdock?” the ensign said, his face hardening. Did he think she lied?

  Evelyn drew herself up in her most regal manner, spine straight as a needle, chin tipped high so that her gaze looked down on the man even though he was nearly a foot taller than she. “Yes, and I would speak with Captain Cross immediately about the man’s villainous ways and the recovery of my charge.”

  The door behind the ensign opened, and Captain Cross emerged, a folded sheaf of paper under one arm. He strode directly toward them.

  “Captain,” Evelyn said, giving him a curt tip of her head. “I am here to recover my student, Isabel Campbell, who was stolen from outside her sister’s home by your Lieutenant Burdock.”

  Captain Cross gave a small nod, his hand rising to stroke his pointed beard. “A pleasure to see you again, Lady Evelyn. I hope that your school is growing as you’d hoped.”

  “My charge, Captain,” Evelyn said, her mouth pinched in annoyance.

  “Will be here until she answers questions related to why she attacked one of my soldiers.”

  “She is a child,” Evelyn said through stacked teeth. “And she does not speak, so she will not be able to answer your questions. Bring her out to me now, or I will send immediately to my brother for assistance. He has the ear of King Charles, and when parliament is reconvened he could be a great ally to you, or a great enemy.” She laid the threat directly before him.

  “We have quite a number of friends at court,” Scarlet said, her voice sounding royal. “Any one of them would be happy to assist when a child is in jeopardy
from none other than their own English army.” She shook her head, calling him to task.

  “She is a Scottish chit, and she attacked an English soldier.”

  Evelyn took a step closer to Cross and glared. “With pebbles at a full-grown man with a musket.” She tipped her head to the side. “How will that look to Queen Catherine when I write to her about you and your defense of Lieutenant Burdock?”

  Captain Cross’s face relaxed into something close to boredom. “Your threats do not sway me,” he said. “However…” He pulled the paper from under his arm. It looked to be a gazette. “Since I see that you are now officially betrothed to Lord Philip Sotheby of London, a respected man of great influence, I am persuaded to overlook the child’s crime, since you, Lady Evelyn, are her matron.”

  “Officially betrothed?” Evelyn said, the question falling from her parted lips. Her stomach turned to stone inside. How could it be? Nathaniel had said he’d delay Philip, at least for another month.

  “Yes,” Cross said, his eyebrow going up in question. “The banns have been posted in the London Gazette.” He unfolded the pages, reading. “Lady Evelyn Worthington and Sir Philip Sotheby, to be wed this spring.” He turned the tip of his knobby nose toward Evelyn. “This was dated a fortnight ago. Were you not aware?”

  Scarlet made a small choking noise, mirroring the strangle-like hold on Evelyn’s throat. Heart pounding, Evelyn fought to smooth her features, pushing the disaster behind her for the time being. Isabel was still in enemy hands.

  She cleared her throat, waving a hand dismissively. It would have looked more noble if she had worn her pristine white gloves, but they were back at Finlarig with clean gowns, free of berry stains. “A matter of miscommunication on my brother’s part, I’m sure. With the welfare of my student in jeopardy, I will follow up with that later.” She met his squinted eyes directly. “Now, where is Isabel Campbell?”

  He held her gaze, and she pressed her tongue behind her teeth, waiting. “Let us talk about this inside, out of the breeze,” he said.