A Rose in the Highlands (Highland Roses School)

by Heather McCollum

  He stepped through the ladies at the door, his gaze sliding from Evelyn to land on Nathaniel. “It seems your faith in your sister’s upbringing, honor, and intelligence has been misplaced,” Philip said, his voice low, his words succinct.

  Evelyn’s stomach felt hollow with dread. No one said anything, the tension in the silence so thick she could hardly breathe. Had he heard everything she’d said?

  Philip jerked his head around like a perturbed rooster. “She’s run wild up here unsupervised.” He scoffed. “A school? What good could she possibly impart to young, impressionable ladies?”

  The question hung in the air. Maybe he was right? What type of example was she to young ladies? Every detail she presented was judged, from her accent to her convictions. And everyone in Killin seemed to find her lacking. The heaviness of the silence, from all those gathered to witness her humiliation, pushed Evelyn’s shoulders lower. She blinked.

  “She’s begun to open up the minds of several ladies in this very library.” Grey’s voice broke through the room, making Evelyn raise her head. “She’s teaching them the way to form words from letters, exposing them to art, and even the proper way to serve her English drink.”

  Evelyn sucked in a breath that was nearly a sob. That Grey would defend her…

  Philip turned to Grey. “Your words have no merit, since you are the one rummaging around up my betrothed’s skirt.”

  “Lord Philip,” Evelyn started, but he held up a hand, palm out to her.

  “You, Lady Evelyn, will be dealt with later.”

  She felt her face redden, her lips thinning as she tightened them. The man was arrogant and condescending. “It was not my intention of informing you so cruelly, Lord Philip, of the dissolution of our engagement, but—”

  “Cease,” Philip said, the one word punctuated so that it came as a yelled curse. His gaze flashed to Evelyn. “And our engagement is still intact, despite your transgressions.” His hands rose to his ridiculous wig, which had tipped askew. He righted it, his gaze moving to Grey. He gave a tight smile. “And if the Scot in question keeps his cock to himself from now on, he…may win back his castle.”

  Evelyn’s chest froze on a breath, her heart beating wildly. Her gaze snapped to Grey. Philip was bribing him? Her for his castle?

  Grey narrowed his eyes. “I thought ye were going to have me hung.”

  Philip ignored him and looked to Nathaniel. “I demand Finlarig as payment for a sullied bride. However, I have no intention of residing here, nor letting my wayward wife run a school.” He tipped his head back to Grey. “I would need to abandon the property to the original owners. I could convince Charles to leave this northern, backward village alone.”

  Evelyn’s heart sank lower. The restoration of Grey’s clan and his pride stood just a nod away if Philip could convince Nathaniel to forfeit Finlarig for her actions. “Nathaniel—”

  “We’ve heard enough from you tonight,” Philip said before she could get anything out.

  Grey stared at Philip as if trying to decipher Philip’s words, judging them. Don’t trust him. Evelyn’s instincts screamed inside her, and her gaze cut to all the onlookers. Alana slid her palms to her cheeks, staring at her brother. Finlarig would be theirs again. It would belong to the Campbells, to their heirs one day.

  Molly watched the horrific drama with wide eyes while Scarlet met Evelyn’s gaze, tears in her eyes.

  Evelyn couldn’t look at Grey, standing there, silently deciding if he would throw her to the wolves. She should have told him about the marriage she was desperate to escape. Could he possibly think that she would be content trapped with Philip? Did he care?

  Evelyn shook her head. “I am not the woman for you, Philip,” she said.

  Philip’s gaze shifted to her. “It is not up for debate. I will not be made the laughingstock of Charles’s court.” His words came out with such force that spittle flew with them. “The king himself has blessed our union, and your father decreed it in his will.”

  Nathaniel cleared his throat. “We should disperse for the night and discuss this in the morning when minds are fresh and tempers aren’t ruled by such passion.”

  Philip snorted and stood as tall as his paunchy frame allowed. “And Lady Evelyn will sleep with Lady Scarlet with her brother next door.” His eyes shifted to her. “Or she can sleep with me.” A wave of nausea made Evelyn’s knees wobble, her hand going to her stomach. If she were forced to sleep with Philip, she would vomit on him. The plan helped her find the strength to keep standing.

  “Enough, Sotheby,” Nathaniel said.

  Evelyn’s gaze slid to Grey. He met her stare, but she couldn’t read his thoughts. His entire stance was hard, his fists clenched. What terrible condemnation swirled in his mind?

  “Bloody hell,” came a woman’s voice in the hallway. “What is going on?” Kirstin’s face appeared around Alana’s shoulder, her gaze snapping around the room until it rested on Grey. “Didn’t mean to interrupt, but can I have a word with ye, Grey?”

  Grey looked back at Evelyn, and she held her breath. You’re falling in love with me. Her words from earlier sat between them, waiting for him to either pick them up or grind them into the ashes that seemed to surround her life.

  “It’s important,” Kirstin said, and Evelyn’s eyes closed as Grey turned away from her.

  She blinked them open when his voice broke the thick stillness. “We will continue this discussion in the morn,” Grey said. Without a nod to anyone, he strode toward the door where the ladies stood back for him to escape.

  With his absence, the strength abandoned Evelyn’s legs, and she sunk into the chair behind her, the chair where she’d given her trust to Grey. She swallowed, her inhale trembling. Please, Grey. After what they’d shared together, the progress they’d made in trusting each other, would he let all of it fall to the ashes with the rest of her life?

  A squeak made Evelyn swirl around, her skirts tickling against her legs. She held a lit taper, its flame undulating in the darkness. Something scurried across the floor, diving into straw that rose up around her. She brandished the taper, the flame growing larger until what she held was not a taper but a full torch. The light cast across the straw where a row of large rats sat upright, their little black eyes staring at her, reflecting the fire. She gasped, falling back, the torch slamming against the wall. She spun to see a tapestry catch the flame.

  “What have ye done?” She whirled away from the fire to face Grey, his mouth twisted in a hateful frown. She tried to speak, to apologize for her selfishness, but her voice was muffled. Only a whimper emerged.

  Evelyn jerked awake, her breath rapid as her heart beat with panic. “Just a dream,” she whispered. She rolled to the edge of Scarlet’s bed, clutching the blanket to her chest, and focused on slowing her breath. She blinked at the window glass, painted gray by the building dawn.

  Oh, Grey. Evelyn squeezed her eyes shut, forbidding the ache of building tears to win the battle within her. She’d completely underestimated Philip Sotheby. Last night in the library, he had quickly used what Grey wanted most in the world to manipulate him. Had it even been a difficult decision for Grey? Did he have any true feelings for her after all had been revealed?

  She’s begun to open up the minds of several ladies in this very library… He’d come to her defense, but was it merely a reaction to the silence and lack of support around her? The ache burned behind her eyes until some hot tears squeezed out. She rubbed her face against the pillow.

  Grey would do anything to reclaim his family home, the seat of the Campbells of Breadalbane. He’d never suggested anything else. No matter that she’d sworn his heart was softening toward her. His honor and responsibility to his clan would never allow him to stand in Philip’s way.

  Evelyn drew in a ragged breath, wiped her face once more on the pillow, and pushed to sit up. Scarlet stirred behind her. “Is it alre
ady morning?” she murmured, her voice rough with sleep.

  “Yes,” Evelyn said, her heart so heavy that even speaking was difficult. She was tempted to climb back under the warm covers, refuse to come out like her mother did when summoned to their father’s study. Let her shoulders slump and the tears fall freely, for the tears were honest and not fed by fanciful drama. The ache of sorrow was real, so real that Evelyn had to face the truth. Perhaps, instead of Grey falling in love with her, she had fallen in love with him.

  “I suppose we must return to the library today,” Scarlet said, and Evelyn felt her shift. Her sister’s warm hand landed gently on her shoulder. “Evie?”

  Evelyn turned to face her sister. Scarlet’s eyes grew round as she studied her, and she blinked. “You are weeping,” she said. “You never weep,” she whispered. She pushed upright and sniffed, her own eyes filling with tears. “Damn it, Evie. You’re making me cry.”

  “I…I think I love him,” Evelyn whispered.

  Scarlet exhaled, a few tears running down her cheeks. She squeezed Evelyn’s hand. “You need to tell him.”

  Evelyn shook her head. “After yesterday, he couldn’t possibly feel the same.”

  “Not necessarily,” Scarlet argued.

  Evelyn looked down at the sheets, swirled around their legs like a warm pool. How alluring it was to consider hiding away in them. Perhaps she was weak, after all. “How am I to get out of this marriage with Philip?”

  Scarlet wiped her cheeks and tightened her lips. “Perhaps we could find sanctuary in France.”

  It was all very good to plan a wild escape, but putting it into action and finding success was a whole other endeavor, one that could lead to disaster and danger. Evelyn shook her head. “I can’t pull you into this mess.”

  “Nonsense,” Scarlet said, waving off the comment. “I pulled you into my mess when I woke you in the night to leave London. Without a single explanation, you helped me. ’Tis what sisters do.”

  Evelyn leaned forward to squeeze Scarlet’s hand. “Scar, what happened? I will never think badly of you and will keep your secrets to the grave. But if we are forced to go back to England, I would know from whom to protect you.”

  Scarlet rested her other hand on top of Evelyn’s and sighed. “I just…” She looked down, her cheeks staining red. “I can’t put words to the memories yet.” She met Evelyn’s gaze. “But I will tell you this. We will not go back.” She shook her head. “We will build a life somewhere else.”

  “How?”

  “Nathaniel will help us.”

  Her brother was surely still furious over her actions. Good Lord, the things she’d said in her anger… What must he think? What must Alana and Molly think? Had Alana told Kirstin? Had Grey left with Kirstin? Evelyn had no idea, because Scarlet and Nathaniel had escorted her to Scarlet’s room from the library. As if she were under guard. The thought rallied a tendril of anger inside her.

  Evelyn slid out of the warm bed and threw her arms into her robe as she hurried across to the hearth. She stirred the remaining embers, blowing on them to reignite the flame, and added peat. Anxiousness tapped through her chest, making her heart pound. Would today bring more pain? She retrieved her gown, throwing it on over a clean smock. She grabbed her steel hair stick and twisted up a quick bun.

  “Are you in a rush to dive back into this mess?” Scarlet asked as she finally rolled out of bed. She grimaced as her toes hit the cold floorboards.

  Evelyn peered through the moisture on the glass window, looking out into the empty courtyard beside the kitchen. “I need to know if Nathaniel will help me.” Or was he as disappointed in her as their father had been in all her radical ideas about women? If he did help her escape Philip, would there be any possibility of staying with Grey? Would Grey want anything further to do with her? The question solidified in her chest, a heavy weight that her heart beat against, nearly smothered.

  “He is our brother first, Evie.”

  “Father was never our father first.”

  Scarlet exhaled. She knew there was no argument about that. “But Nat isn’t Father.”

  “He certainly had the look about him last evening.”

  Scarlet shook her head. “You would be black and blue if that were true.” She walked over to Evelyn. “You just surprised him, surprised everyone.” She smiled. “My prim, responsible sister, cavorting with a devilishly handsome Highland chief.”

  Evelyn exhaled. “A Highland chief who might want nothing more to do with me.”

  Scarlet hugged her tight. “You need to talk with him.”

  “When I’m not imprisoned,” Evelyn said against her shoulder.

  Knock. Knock.

  They both looked at the door, the bar laying across for a lock.

  “Yes?” Scarlet called.

  “It’s Nathaniel. May I enter?”

  Scarlet looked to Evelyn, and she nodded. They both went to the door to lift the bar, setting it to the side. A momentary panic kicked Evelyn’s heart into a wild thumping. Would Philip be with Nathaniel, urging him to drag her away today? Would her brother chain her to Philip for life? She pulled in air and opened the door.

  Nathaniel stood with his hands clasped behind his back, and Evelyn slowly met his gaze at the same time Scarlet gasped. Nathaniel’s left eye was blackened, the lid nearly swollen shut, and his lip was raw with two black, crusty stitches at the edge.

  “What happened?” Evelyn asked, grabbing his arm.

  “Good God, Nat,” Scarlet said as they dragged him toward the fire to see better. “We need to tend your face.”

  “That angry woman with rose-colored hair and freckles across her face already stitched my lip and slapped some salve on it.”

  “Cat,” Evelyn said, nodding. Angry described Isabel’s sister perfectly.

  He rubbed a finger over his bottom lip. “Yes, Cat. Is that her real name?”

  “It’s short for Catriona,” Evelyn said.

  “Catriona,” he repeated. “Hmmm.”

  “Well, you look horrible,” Scarlet said, hands propping on her hips.

  Nathaniel frowned, which only pushed his battered lip farther out. “Campbell looks worse.”

  “Grey?” Evelyn asked.

  Scarlet pushed Nathaniel into one of the two chairs by the hearth. “You two fought?”

  “Where is he?” Evelyn asked, her words terse. Had Grey been dragged off to Cross’s encampment?

  “He’s gone to the village,” Nathaniel said, studying Evelyn. He touched his injured lip as if to ascertain it wasn’t bleeding and rubbed his nose, scrunching it.

  Evelyn’s relief made her knees weak, and she lowered into the opposite chair. “What were you fighting over?”

  “You, of course,” Nathaniel said as if she were a goose. “And this whole muddle. Actually, he started it. Came in demanding to know why I’d sent a man to that English garrison north of here last evening. I suppose me calling him a sister-sullying arse after that didn’t help matters.”

  “A man went to Cross?” Scarlet asked.

  “One of Philip’s men,” Nathaniel corrected. “Stole a horse from the village.”

  “He didn’t sully me,” Evelyn said.

  “Yes, yes,” Nathaniel said and exhaled. “Seems he rather agrees with you on that, Evie.”

  He agreed with her? What did that mean?

  Nathaniel studied her, tipping his head to the side. “You care for him?”

  She opened her mouth, unsure what she could admit. Not just to her brother, but more importantly, to herself. “I… Yes, I do care for him. And I gave myself to him freely.”

  Nathaniel frowned, but released an exhale and nodded. “Then our plan is good.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  “Plan?” Scarlet asked from behind the changing screen where she dressed, the material making a swishing sound.


  “You’ve made a plan that includes me without discussing it with me?” Evelyn asked.

  “I’m discussing it with you now,” Nathaniel said, his stare flat with annoyance.

  Evelyn crossed her arms. “Go ahead.”

  Nathaniel ran a hand down his jaw, which had grown stubbled. The bruises added to his tired, worried look. “Neither Campbell nor I will allow Philip to bully you into wedding him. And, since he apparently sent one of his men to Captain Cross’s company, we can assume he is planning to enlist the captain’s help in the matter.”

  “Or have Captain Cross arrest Grey for holding him against the wall,” Evelyn said.

  “We’ve considered that, since the man was sent before he offered Finlarig to Campbell in the library. Either way, we want to get you out of here.”

  “Captain Cross cannot force me to say yes to Philip before a cleric,” Evelyn said.

  “No,” Nathaniel said. “But he can lie and say that you already gave yourself to Philip or agreed to wed. The banns have been posted for weeks.”

  “Without me knowing,” Evelyn said, her voice rising as she stood to pace.

  “Perhaps that would all mean something if King Charles hadn’t blessed your union, in writing. Yes, I’ve seen the missive, and no doubt, Philip has shown it to Captain Cross. If Cross believes you are already wed, you will be seen as a flighty female who must learn her place.”

  “Bloody hell,” Evelyn murmured.

  Nathaniel’s eyes opened slightly wider. “Bloody hell? Asking a Highlander to ruin you? Going to the English compound to rescue a student? You’ve changed since coming north, Evie.”

  “Don’t forget dancing like a heathen around a Beltane fire and smearing bilberry tarts on her skirts,” Scarlet called from the screen.

  Evelyn willed the heat to leave her cheeks but knew she still flushed. She tipped her nose higher. “I’ve learned what it is to live without being under a brutal father’s thumb, Nathaniel. I’ve been able to share my opinions without fear of being slapped or locked in my room. I can walk and dance where I want, when I want, and with whom I want.” She leaned slightly forward as she continued her unblinking stare. “And I would rather die than go back to the suppressed life I lived at Hollings and the London court. With or without Philip Sotheby.”