The Scotsman Who Saved Me

by Hannah Howell

  Chapter Fourteen

  Emily rolled out the pie crusts for Mrs. O’Neal’s pies, her mind awhirl with thoughts of Iain and what game he played now. Instead of his usual hot and cold moods, he was a perfect gentleman. Since part of that included not making love to her any chance he got she was a little concerned. For a week now he had brought her small gifts from candy to flowers. Instead of stealing kisses when they sat on the back porch he wanted to talk, about her, about him, about what they both wanted in life.

  Talking was nice, she told herself firmly. It was good for them to get to know each other as well as possible before they continued the affair they had stumbled into. Emily knew that was right and proper. Her body, however, was not the least bit happy with right and proper. It wanted passion, heat, and excitement. Her body wanted kisses and caresses, not talk.

  She sighed. Emily had not realized she could be so shameless. What she wanted broke every rule she had ever been taught. Family and society both heartily condemned such things. Emily wondered why that did not trouble her more.

  “You are being unusually quiet,” Mrs. O’Neal said as she set down the fruit for the pies.

  “Just thinking.” Emily glanced at the bowl. “What did you put in with the apples?”

  “Some of the berries you and the children collected. Took out what I needed for the jam and had a few left. Thought they would add a nice touch to the pie.”

  “I suspect they will.”

  “So what are you thinking on?” Mrs. O’Neal nudged her with her elbow. “Iain?”

  “And why would I spend time thinking on him?” Emily asked in her haughtiest voice as she began to place the crust in the pans Mrs. O’Neal had set down.

  “Humph. You had a dreamy look in your eye.”

  “I did not have a dreamy look in my eye.”

  “Oh, yes, there certainly was.” Mrs. O’Neal did a dramatic imitation of such a look and Emily had to laugh. “I also noted that the man is courting you.”

  “Is that what he is doing?” Emily decided that was not a bad thing although she wondered why he even bothered when she had already given him what her mother and other older women had said men always wanted.

  “Flowers, even candy. Which was very good, by the way. He has even started painting a picture for you.”

  “What?” Emily stared at Mrs. O’Neal in shock. “What painting?”

  “One of the little gorge up the trail. But I shouldn’t have said anything. Must be a surprise for you so best remember to act surprised when he gives it to you.”

  Emily watched Mrs. O’Neal put fruit in the pies and then put some of her crust on top. Iain was painting her a picture of a spot she had idly mentioned to him. It was going to be a struggle not to try to find which room he was painting in and go have a peek. She inwardly shook her head. There was always the chance Mrs. O’Neal was wrong and Iain was painting it for himself.

  There was the echo of a knock on the door and Emily frowned as she wiped her hands to go and see who was there. Her eyes widened when she opened the door to find the Bannisters. She had managed to make the trip into town a few times to have tea with Charlotte but had not felt it safe to ask the woman out to the MacEnroys yet. There did not need to be anyone else pulled into the dangerous mess that her life had become.

  “Charlotte, how wonderful to see you.” She opened the door wider and smiled at little William. “And you William. Where is George?” she asked Charlotte.

  “He is speaking with the MacEnroy brothers. Is it all right that I wheedled a ride with him?”

  “Yes, of course it is all right. Come in.” She smiled at William. “Shall I find Neddy?”

  “That would be lovely,” said Charlotte, “although I do not know how long we are to stay.”

  “I suspect until Mr. Bannister and Iain are done with their business.” She brought Charlotte and little William into the parlor and Emily then excused herself to fetch some tea.

  Mrs. O’Neal was already putting a tea tray together for her. “I think this is the first time we have had a visitor here. Well, except for the occasional fellow who comes to speak to Iain about business. Do you want me to send Neddy in?” Mrs. O’Neal grabbed some small cakes she had made and kept in the pantry for the children.

  “Oh, yes, please. She has brought her boy with her. I was hoping the two boys would become friends. I can carry the tray in if you could find Neddy for me.”

  Emily carried the tray into the parlor. It felt odd to be so pleased to offer Charlotte tea and cakes. She only briefly mourned the lack of the fine bone china they had drunk from in the manor house back in England. Such things broke too easily for the life she led now. When Neddy was brought in she and Charlotte talked quietly while the two boys got to know each other. As soon as the awkward first moments had passed and the two boys began to happily play, Emily smiled at Charlotte.

  “Success,” Emily said, and shared a toast of tea with Charlotte then settled in for a pleasant talk.

  * * *

  Iain shook George’s hand when the man came into the stables. “You already have news?”

  “Not the news you sent out the letters for. Not yet. Did think you would be interested in why the fool at the bank tried to cheat you.”

  “Aye. I have had a few people asking me to sell them all or a piece of my land but couldn’t figure out who would try to cheat me out of it all or who would use the bank to do it for them.”

  “Morrison. Harold Morrison.”

  “Ah. That does explain why the banker did what he did. Morrison would be a nice catch as a customer. He and the old man hated each other which is why the man travels a fair distance to deal with a bank in another town. Man would impress his da if he caught Morrison as a customer.”

  “Well, his father was convinced his firstborn would soon ruin all he had built so he took him out and gave the seat to his younger son. That fellow is painfully honest and truly understands the job.”

  Iain laughed and shook his head. “I willnae ask how the fool’s da found out the truth.” He stroked the nose of the horse he had been grooming and went on to the next in line. “Did you find out anything about those people I asked about?”

  “Not much. One thing, a close friend of mine, a classmate from Harvard, told me that the Duke of Collins Wood is an important man, a power within the gentry.”

  “Ye had a classmate that kenned such things?”

  George nodded. “He was English, called himself minor gentry, but claimed to know most of the gentry. He said most of them know one another, or, at least, about one another. Said they were an incestuous bunch. I decided he had something he was bitter about.”

  Iain grinned. “It certainly sounds that way.”

  “Well, the duke is not as old as one would think with him being a grandfather and all. He must have wed young and had his son married off young. Stanton is the family name. The man rarely does anything of notice but, according to my friend, he is constantly there at every important event or decision. He suspected the man was a quiet power but one to be reckoned with.”

  “Did he happen to tell ye how to reach the man?”

  “Send a courier, secretly. Address it as being for him and him only.”

  “Then do so.”

  “Done. Anything else?”

  “I am certain there are a dozen but I have trouble deciding which direction to take in all of this. The priority is to keep Neddy and Emily alive. We cannae keep fighting off the men he hires. At some point one of them will get through and do the job he was hired to.”

  George shook his head. “I still find it difficult to believe a man would kill a child or that he can find so many men willing to do so for him. It is chilling to think there are men out there willing to do so for a title or fancy properties or money but they do kill for such things all too often.”

  Iain nodded. “And this man doesnae see Neddy as just a child; he sees him as an obstacle to what he wants therefore he must be removed. And we have to do more than
stand against the men he sends hunting us. I am tired of burying the dead,” he added in a soft voice.

  “I can only imagine.” George smiled faintly. “I have not even fired a gun.”

  “Do ye nay ken how to use a weapon?”

  “No. Never had the need that I know of and did not join any of the sporting or shooting clubs at Harvard. So, I do not even own one although I have been informed, numerous times, that I should get a gun and learn how to shoot it.”

  “If ye decide to do so, we can teach ye.”

  “I will keep that in mind. So what should I have this courier say to His Grace?”

  “His Grace.” Iain laughed and shook his head. “Never thought I would ever have one damned thing to do with a person who sat that high at the table. It doesnae surprise me that the duke has a greedy relation, however.

  “As for what to say, just that. Albert has killed Annabel and David and now tries verra hard to kill Neddy and Emily. Feel free to tell him about any or all of the attempts. Tell him who she and the boy are with and where. Annabel already let Albert know by writing to the wrong cousin so that willnae matter.”

  “It is a shame we do not have a photograph of the boy. Maybe seeing what is at risk would move the man. But, I will do what you ask. Let us hope the danger finally gets through to the man.”

  “Aye, because Emily needs to ken that what is left of her family is on her side.”

  George nodded and put away the small book he made all his notes in. “I will get right on it. I hope it brings a response but I have to warn you, these things can take months.”

  “I ken it but we really only have to get through the fall and then most everything comes to a halt. I dinnae think even Albert will do much then and he or whatever men he sends against us will be a lot easier to spot.”

  Iain just grinned when George laughed. He then shook hands with the man and walked to the house with him so he could collect his wife and child. Iain grinned briefly when he saw Emily in the parlor with Charlotte. The two small boys were arguing genially about whose little wooden train car was better and the women were talking quietly as they sat together on the settee.

  * * *

  “Oh, it is time to go,” said Charlotte as she rose and brushed down her skirts. “William, we have to go home now.”

  William got up with clear reluctance and came over to Charlotte with an obvious dragging of his feet. Emily put a hand over her mouth to hide her smile. It had been a pleasant visit and felt very nice to have a chat with a woman her age. It was also very good for Neddy to play with a child his age. She followed them to the door and said how Charlotte had to come again soon. She meant it but hoped George would understand that care had to be taken. Neddy ran up, took her hand, and said a very polite farewell.

  “Eat now?” asked Neddy the moment the Bannisters were gone.

  “Neddy, you just had two of Mrs. O’Neal’s little cakes,” Emily said as she ruffled his curls. “You cannot be that hungry.”

  “Aye, I can.”

  She had to bite back a smile at the way he used the word aye just like the MacEnroys. “We will have dinner soon, I am sure, so why not go see what Riley is doing outside.”

  “Fine.”

  Although his tone was that of a disgruntled child, he ran off to find Riley. Emily turned to look at Iain, who just lifted his eyebrows in a silent question. She debated whether she should even ask about his business but Emily only hesitated for a moment.

  “Did you finish your business with George?” she asked.

  He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “I did. The bank has a new head. The older brother was the one I dealt with and he was quickly replaced by the younger one who actually enjoys bank business. No answer to the letters I sent out a little while ago but George did get news about your family. And he is going to write a note and send it by courier to your uncle, the duke.”

  “I hope that works. I hope he finally listens.”

  “All we can do is send him word but ye would think the dead family piling up would have already told him what is happening. And what other information we have tells me nothing that makes me think the man will ignore so many dead, shrug it off as silly coincidence.”

  “All I want is for him to believe me and I think I will be satisfied. It is very hard to be in danger and the head of the family thinks it is nothing but frivolous talk.”

  “He will listen this time. I feel it in my bones.”

  * * *

  Emily poured the bucket of hot water into the tub and then tested the temperature of the bathwater. Most everyone was asleep and Neddy had wanted to go sleep with Rory so she actually had time to enjoy her bath. It did not need to be a hasty one as in the room off the kitchen with the constant sound of people talking right outside the door. She smiled as she sprinkled some bath salts she had bought in the Trading Post over the water for she realized she was spoiled when it came to her baths.

  She stripped off her clothes, checked to make certain her clean garments were laid out on the bed so she could dress quickly, and then slowly lowered her body into the water. It was not the nice tub she was accustomed to but it served. She put some soap on the washrag and began to bathe. When she finished scrubbing herself clean she washed her hair, grabbed the toweling she had put near the tub, and wrapped it around her head. Then, because the water was still nice and warm, she sank down into the tub and just soaked in it.

  Despite her efforts to clear her mind and just relax, Emily began to think on Albert and how to get him out of the way. She had already sent one letter to her grandfather but it had been just before Annabel and David had been killed. He was the only one she had considered it was safe to write to. Her grandfather might not believe her story about Albert killing her parents but he would not reveal anything to anyone else. She had told Annabel the duke was the only one she could write to but her sister had never warmed up to the man and did not want to. Emily might think her grandfather was a bit pigheaded but he was also wise enough to not let any information get into Albert’s hands. He might not fully believe in her suspicions but he would never give any information to one she feared and hated.

  Since she had never heard back from her grandfather she had to assume that he still did not believe her. That was sad because he was a man with the power and wealth needed to get rid of Albert. In England he would have to merely have a word with a magistrate and Albert would have been dragged to gaol. Over here, his title would not mean much out in Arkansas but he still had the money and the skill to get others to deal with things for him. He had power and skill and used both ruthlessly when he needed to.

  The sound of a door opening pulled her from her thoughts and she frowned, wondering who had come back into the house. Then she shivered and opened her eyes for she felt as if she was being watched. Glancing up she squeaked in shock and crossed her arms over her breasts. Iain was standing right next to the tub.

  “Ye dinnae like the room off the kitchen?” He crouched by the side of the tub and dragged his fingers through the water.

  “There are a lot of people who go in and out of the kitchen and there is always someone talking in there so, even with the door closed, one can feel exposed.”

  “Ah, so ye like a lot of privacy for your bath.”

  “Yes, or the illusion of it. So perhaps you could leave so I can go back to illusion of privacy. So, shoo.” She took one arm out so she could make a shooing motion with her hand but, to her annoyance, all that got was a wide grin and Iain making himself more comfortable.

  “Iain, you should not be in here. What if someone comes up?”

  “They won’t. Mrs. O’Neal is tucked up with the boys and my brothers have gone to the Trading Post but don’t intend to visit Mabel’s side.” He laughed when she frowned and then her eyes widened slightly. “Yes, love, they are going to visit the ladies.”

  “Oh. You did not go?” It hurt to even ask him as she was terrified he would say he was.

  Iain gave her a disgusted look i
nstead of answering that foolish question. “Nay, I had no inclination to go. Water is getting cool, love, and your skin will get wrinkly.” He stood up, grabbed the other towel she had brought in, and held it up for her.

  “You expect me to just stand up?”

  “I believe I do.”

  Before she could tell him he would be frozen in place before she did that, he grabbed her under the arms and pulled her up to her feet. She grabbed at her towel but he was already wrapping it around her. Then he kissed her and she forgot all about the games he was playing with her.

  He carried her to her bed and put her down. Then he shed his clothes. The man had no modesty, she thought, but realized she did not care. He was tall, lean, his muscles firm, his skin taut, and he was a pleasure to look at. Emily watched him tug off his pants and then his drawers. There he was in all his glory and she was annoyed that she still had no name for that part of him that jutted out and gave her pleasure when he put it to use. She was just about to ask him what it was called when he gently sprawled on top of her.

  “Iain, my hair is all wet and will ruin my pillow,” she said, trying to think of practical matters before the feel of the man’s body against hers scattered all her wits.

  He yanked the pillow out from under her head and tossed it on the floor. “There. Fixed the problem.” He gently undid the towel he had wrapped around her and bent his head to kiss her breasts.

  Emily wrapped her arms around his neck and held on as he drove her wild with his kisses and caresses, even the occasional little nip soothed by a stroke of his tongue. She then ran her hands over his back and slowly down until she caressed his backside. When she lightly dragged her fingernails over the taut skin there he moved against her and made her desire rise to a fever pitch.

  She shuddered as he kissed his way down to her stomach. It moved his body out of her reach and she ached to touch him. A shock went through her when he kissed her thighs and his soft hair brushed against her. Then she froze, torn between shock and piercing pleasure when his kisses moved to the place between her legs. Emily tried to pull away but his hold on her legs kept her still until she lost all urge to flee his kiss.