The Scotsman Who Saved Me

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The Scotsman Who Saved Me Page 11

by Hannah Howell


  A sound pulled her out of her musings and Emily frowned. She realized she had stopped yet she was sure she heard the sound of hoofbeats. Looking around, she finally glanced up the hill gently rising on her left. Six men were cautiously making their way toward her. A chill gripped her heart when she recognized one of the men who had sent her fleeing town. Iain must have missed one or the man had stayed behind while his friends had ridden out and died.

  Emily kicked her mount into a hard trot and heard the men curse. Not sure how long it would take them to get down the rest of the hill to the trail, she nudged her mount into a gallop as soon as she believed the trail safe enough for such speed. She knew the men would do the same and prayed that her mare was faster. There was a shot and Emily urged her mare to go even faster.

  Once inside the gates, she leapt out of the saddle and ran back to the gates to try to shut them. Mrs. O’Neal was at her side a heartbeat later. The two of them got the gates shut and barred then sagged against them. The men outside fired at the gates and the two women hastily stepped away, not trusting the thick wood to stop the bullets.

  “The boys won’t be able to get in,” said Mrs. O’Neal.

  “I know, but what else can we do?”

  “Think these men will give up soon?”

  “We can only hope or they will run when the men return.” She saw Neddy standing in the doorway of the house and her heart sank as she hurried over to him. “Neddy, you must stay inside for now.” She picked him up intending to carry him inside but the boy clung to her with his arms and legs while shaking his head.

  “No! No! The fire will get me!”

  Mrs. O’Neal hurried over and rubbed the child’s back. “There is no fire, lad. It is safe inside the house.”

  “Where Iain?”

  “I am sure he will be back soon.” Emily looked at Mrs. O’Neal. “How far does the sound of a shot carry?”

  “A long way in this valley but it all depends on the wind, where the men are, and how much noise they are making.”

  Emily sat down on the steps and held Neddy close. She knew it would be impossible to get the boy to stay inside without them. Neddy might not be suffering much from grief but he evidently still suffered from fears bred by the attack that had killed his parents. There was a sudden burst of shooting and she prayed the gates held firm.

  * * *

  Iain stretched and rubbed at his lower back. He was not sure how well the fence would work or if it would prove no more than a mild blockade quickly overcome. Taking off his hat he ran his hand through his hair and hoped he had not taken a loan for nothing. Although Daniel had seen to it the loan papers were written up fairly and just how Iain wanted them, he had lost all trust in that bank. Unfortunately, it was the only one around.

  The faint sound of a gunshot caught his attention and he looked at Matthew, who stood beside him. “Did ye just hear a shot?”

  Matthew frowned. “I am hearing a lot of shooting. I think it is coming from over there.”

  Looking in the direction Matthew was pointing, Iain realized it was their home. “Damn it, it is coming from the house.” He slapped his hat back on and ran for his horse, Matthew right behind him and calling for all their brothers to come.

  Iain did not wait for his brothers but mounted his horse and rode hard for the house. He could think of no one who would attack them so he had to wonder if this was some of the men who had attacked Emily’s family. If the women had gotten the gates closed there would be time to reach them.

  He reined in at the top of a small rise and stared down at the five men trying to break through his gates. It surprised him a little that the two women had managed to shut them and even to secure the huge gates but he was grateful that they had found the strength. Undoubtedly, they had found it because their children were inside those gates.

  Matthew drew up beside him and pulled his rifle from the saddle holster. “Ye think they are after Emily and the boy?”

  “Aye, but how the hell did they trail them here?”

  “Something to do with the men in town that chased her and Robbie? Must have been one man who peeled off from the others or never even left with them, so we were not able to make sure he never talked. It would be easy to find out who she came to town with, and then find us.”

  “We need to get inside those walls without exposing the women,” Iain said quietly. For a short while they sat silently, noticing that none of the men trying to break through the gates bothered to look behind him. Whoever Emily’s enemy was, he wasted no time trying to find skilled men. “We need to get to the back way in without alerting these idiots.”

  They finally decided to go two at a time; the last ones to go would be the last three. Iain waited tensely as Lachlan and Robbie rode off, getting into the trees to the east of the house so that they could circle around to the back of the wall unseen. Iain wished that at some time in the future, not long, they could have a house safe enough to leave the gates open. He was growing tired of always fortifying the places they lived in.

  Shaking his head for he considered it a poor time to spend even a moment on wishing, he looked down at the pocket watch he had gotten from his father. When five minutes had passed, he signaled Duncan and Geordie to go. After the last five minutes had passed he, Matthew, and Nigel made their way around through the trees. They left their horses secured beside their brothers’ and crept toward the house. Robbie opened the back door for them and they hurried in. The women and the children were all huddled in the kitchen away from the windows and doors. Iain nodded and led his brothers all to the front.

  “I will go up on the walls and see what is there and how many of them there are now,” Iain said.

  “No need. They just broke the bar and are coming in the gates,” said Matthew. “Knew it should have been a bit longer and thicker.”

  Iain swore and hurried to one of the windows in the parlor. The six men were in the yard studying the house. They obviously did not know the women were no longer alone. Iain took careful aim and shot one. Even as the body hit the ground the gunfire started from both the men in the yard, desperately trying to find some cover and the men in the house.

  The attackers fell fast but one ran. Despite their best efforts the man got back out the gates and mounted his horse. He was just racing for the hills when a shot came and he nearly flew out of his saddle. Iain could see just enough to realize the Powell brothers had come and grinned. There would be no news taken back to the one who had hired them. He was beginning to think that lack of news would not buy them much time though.

  “Now we need some new windows,” said Lachlan as he walked in.

  “Only three and not the whole window either. I haven’t looked upstairs yet, though,” added Matthew as he strolled in with his rifle over his shoulder.

  “Not too high a price then.” Iain stood up from where he had been crouched by the window. “But ye are right, Matthew. Gates need a longer thicker bar. We shall also have to think of some way of making it so it can be barred without requiring the strength of two men. But, for now, we have a mess to clean up.”

  The brothers all gathered in the hall and Iain looked toward the kitchen doors to find Emily peering out at them. “It is done. Are all of you all right?”

  “We are. Just going to clean up.” He noticed that she paled a little but she said nothing, just nodded.

  Emily watched the brothers leave and turned back into the kitchen. It was over, she thought, as Mrs. O’Neal shooed her children and Neddy out of the kitchen. No one had been hurt except the ones who had tried to hurt them. Emily knew she should feel relieved, perhaps even happy that they had prevailed, but she just felt cold.

  The odd mood clung to her all through the preparation of the meal. She barely spoke during the meal although she carefully studied each of the brothers to reassure herself they were all hale. Iain kept giving her looks filled with concern but she ignored them. Emily knew she needed to be alone to shake off this strange mood. For now, she did only
what she had to and spoke only when spoken to directly.

  “What troubles you, dearie?” asked Mrs. O’Neal after the others left the table and she had begun to help with the cleanup.

  “I brought killers to your home, to Iain’s home,” she answered.

  “Nonsense. They brought themselves. Whoever wants you and that boy dead will chase you wherever you go, you know. Better to be in a place with high walls and a lot of strong men then out on the trail as you run to some place or even in a boardinghouse,” Mrs. O’Neal said as she washed the dishes and Emily wiped them.

  “This is not Iain’s battle.”

  “Ha! It is the battle of any man with a backbone and some sense of what is right. This cousin of yours wants to kill a woman and a child. A child with no ability to defend himself. And all for gain. It should turn any decent man’s stomach. It is just sad that there are so many men willing to take money to do his dirty work.”

  “The MacEnroys saved our lives, mine, and Neddy’s. It is a poor repayment for that kindness to drag them into this mess.”

  Mrs. O’Neal shook her head. “When you start thinking like that, I want you to do one thing for me.”

  “What?” Emily asked suspiciously.

  “Think of that boy. Of those big brown eyes going cloudy with death. That is what your lofty principles will gain you.”

  Chastised, Emily finished the dishes. She poured herself a glass of cider and went to sit on the porch swing. It was time to stop being vague and let Iain know exactly why Albert wanted her and Neddy dead. She had hoped the tale of a greedy cousin and vague references to property or land that would be given to him instead of Neddy would be enough.

  It was going to increase those moments of being cold to her. She understood what did it but was resentful of how he included her in that condemnation. She would never throw tenants from their home. Her father had been insistent about their responsibilities to their tenants. Emily sighed, knowing she now faced a difficult few moments with Iain. She just hoped he listened and did not throw his anger, righteous though it was, at her.

  * * *

  Iain poured himself some cider and looked at Mrs. O’Neal, who was taking off her apron and getting ready to go to her cabin. “Where is Neddy?”

  “With my lads. They were going to play with the pups for a while,” the woman replied.

  “And Emily?” he asked casually, and could tell by the sharp look Mrs. O’Neal gave him that his casual inquiry did not fool her at all.

  “Out on the porch swing. See you in the morning,” she said, and went out the door.

  Iain gave the woman enough time to get to her cottage and went to join Emily. It took only one look at the woman to know she was still in that strange mood that had hung on her all through dinner. He cautiously sat down beside her. Iain wondered if she was shocked and upset over the deaths of the men who had planned to kill her and said as much.

  “I do understand that,” she said a little sharply, and then sighed. “You need to know everything, to understand why this will not stop. It will not stop until Albert is dead or Neddy and I are.”

  “Just what have ye done that makes the mon hate ye so much?”

  “We were born. We stand in his way. We have what he wants and will hold it as long as we live and our children, if we live long enough to have any, will then hold it.”

  “Property?”

  “Yes. Quite a lot actually. I have the deeds to five fine English properties and papers affirming Neddy’s right to all the money that comes with such lands. A little cottage by the sea is mine but the rest belong to Neddy. Two manor houses and two fine London town homes. There are more but his grandfather holds the deeds to them until he dies.”

  Iain was shocked. This was far more than he had expected and he suspected she was about to add more. Five properties, manor houses no less, meant she was far higher born than he had thought.

  “And if he succeeds in killing both you and Neddy what titles does the man then claim?”

  “Well, he really only has to kill Neddy. Neddy is the one standing in his way but he will kill me for being witness to it all and for the possibility that I will wed and have a son thus taking some of the property and money he covets. I believe he is fully aware that it was I who uncovered his murder of my parents.”

  “What title?”

  “Well, Neddy is now the Baron of Dunning and”—she took a deep breath—“the Marquis of Collins Wood. When his grandfather passes on he will be the duke.”

  “Jesu. That is practically royalty.”

  “Not really. It is not that kind. It was a gift during Elizabeth’s reign. My ancestor did a very large favor for her and had the wit to then remain in the background, confronting no one and outlasting Henry and others. He also got the right to pass his title on to the sons of his daughters. Not an easy feat. None of it.” She stopped talking, realizing she was babbling to fill the silence.

  “And that box Neddy watches so closely has the paperwork to prove his right?”

  “It does. The man after us is my father’s first cousin, the only other male born in that generation, and he knows he is the heir after Neddy but has no wish to wait who knows how long for the boy to die. Or bother himself with any sons Neddy might breed. My father’s will is quite clear on who is his heir. He had a deep distaste for Albert and needed to do all he could to insure the man could not steal Neddy’s inheritance. I doubt he ever expected the man to turn to murder to get what he wants.”

  “How did your parents die?”

  “Killed in the town house. The authorities decided it was thieves for a few things were missing.”

  “How did ye find out that was nay true?”

  “It was rather odd that the things stolen were ones that Albert had always openly coveted. I could get no help from the authorities because I was just a woman and what could I possibly find out that they had not.”

  If he had not still been in such a state of shock, Iain knew he would have smiled at the note of irritation in her voice. “There was no one to protect you in England?”

  “There were a few people we thought of but we kept running into the same problem. No one believed us when we said Albert killed my parents and wanted us dead as well. We were just grieving women who wanted to blame someone, see someone hang, for the deaths of our parents and had picked on Albert because it was well known in the family that we had never liked the man. If I had had more time, I think I could have convinced my grandfather but Albert had no intention of granting us that time.”

  “And you thought coming here would be enough to keep you safe?”

  “It is a huge country. Not many in England understand just how huge, I think. I thought we could lose ourselves in this country until we could, perhaps, get word to one of the family who might believe us. Unfortunately, even as we left the country we discovered three of those people had recently met a tragic fate and that was when we knew. We had to run, and hide, until we had the skill and strength to stop Albert. As I said, I believed this country big enough to hide in. And it probably would have been except that, as we now know, my sister wrote to a cousin and somehow Albert found out what was said in those letters.”

  “Do you think he killed your cousin?” He could tell by the horror slowly dawning on her face that she had never considered the possibility.

  “He may well have. Then again, Constance is a lovely woman but not especially bright so he may well have gotten ahold of one of the letters and she just did not notice. She may have even left it out without thinking and he peeked when she stepped out of the room. Who knows, but I am now certain he knows where we are and I should take Neddy and leave.”

  “Nay. Ye would just give him an easier target. Think. Ye and a boy traveling alone would be seen, remembered. He just needs to poke around a bit and he can run right after you. Ye are safest here.”

  He finished off his cider and stood up. “Nay. Ye will stay here. I admit I may nay have much love for the gentry but I would never to
ss a boy and a woman to the wolves because of it. My brothers and I can handle this.”

  “You could all be hurt and it is not your fight.”

  “Let me decide what to fight for.” He bent down, cupped her chin in his hand, and kissed her. “You stay.”

  By the time he reached his room Iain was torn between anger and shock. He had known she was gentry but he had never guessed she was so high up. What he had told her was the truth, though. He would never throw her and Neddy out to face all this alone. What he needed to do was figure out if there was any way to get in touch with ones who might help. The killer already knew where she and Neddy were so writing to relatives who might help would make no difference, he decided as he undressed for bed.

  He thought of little Neddy and his fury rose. It was unfathomable that anyone could consider killing the boy just to lay claim to some lands, titles, and money. That was one of the things he had always held against the gentry. They thought such things were worth far more than any life. Lady Vera had had the cottage set on fire even knowing that he and Geordie were still inside because she could not abide people she thought of as peasants blocking her plans.

  He knew in his heart that Emily was not of that ilk but still wondered if he should stay as far away from her as he could. Then he thought of the kisses they had shared and decided he would never do so. He had to force his stubborn mind to adjust its thinking. She probably had as blue a bloodline as anyone he had ever met but he knew, deep down, she was not like Lady Vera and never could be.

 

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