A Highwayman's Honor: (A Highland Highwayman Novella #1)

by Michelle McLean

  She blinked, her cheeks reddening. That seemed an odd word to attach to him. Perhaps it was something in the depths of those deep brown eyes that hinted at a power barely restrained. She fanned her face again, trying to rid herself of such fanciful thoughts. She wished she could see him without the wig. See the true color of his hair.

  He turned that piercing gaze of his to Alice and bowed politely, tipping his hat. “Good evening, Lady Alice. I trust you are well.”

  Alice curtsied, snapping open her fan with a practiced flick of her wrist. “I am indeed, my lord. Allow me to present a dear friend of mine, Miss Elizabet Harding, daughter of Lord Thomas Harding.”

  He focused his attention back on Elizabet. She gave him a shallow curtsy, not sure her knees would hold her if she tried anything deeper.

  “Good evening, my lady,” he said, his cultured voice flowing through her like molten gold.

  He took her hand, bringing it to his lips to press a lingering kiss to its back. His thumb rubbed across her knuckles. Each stroke sent tiny embers swirling through her veins, igniting a heat inside her she’d only known before with one man.

  Alice grinned and turned to speak to another gentleman at her side, her presence apparently no longer necessary now that she’d satisfied custom and acquainted them with each other.

  “May I say how beautiful you look this evening, Miss Harding?”

  She froze, the echo of a deep, Scottish brogue ringing through her ears. The man before her betrayed only the faintest accent. She might not even have noticed it if she hadn’t been replaying the encounter with the enthralling highwayman over and over in her mind since it had happened. She hadn’t been able to forget him. Damn him. She’d never forget that voice, no matter how he tried to conceal it. It haunted her dreams, chased her every waking moment. Turned her into a fanciful, scatter-brained chit who wanted nothing more than to hear her name on those honeyed lips again.

  And now she had. She was sure of it. The way he said it, with the same inflection, as if he were savoring every syllable on his tongue. It was him.

  She met his gaze again. Those eyes. They were the same eyes that had stared at her from behind a worn leather mask. Deep, dark pools of dangerous secrets that tempted her to all manner of folly.

  She froze, her body tightening, seeing those eyes behind a mask, not framed by a long, curled wig and bejeweled linens. An emotion she couldn’t name flashed across his features, so quickly she might have imagined it. One thing was certain though. She recognized him. And he knew it.

  Other than that fleeting look, however, he showed no indication that they’d ever even spoken before let alone touched. Kissed. Slept in each other’s arms. He gazed down at her and spouted off some more nonsense in that slightly accented and oh-so-deep voice of his. He took her hand, giving it another light kiss. Elizabet squeezed her hand tighter before she could stop herself.

  “I was just going to take a stroll around the gardens. Would you care to join me?” he asked, his eyes daring her to accept.

  Two could play his game. “We’ve only just met, my lord. I’m not certain my mother would approve.”

  “What objection could she make? The proper introduction has been made. And I’m merely asking for a turn around the gardens that I’m certain are well-populated as it’s so warm in here.”

  She fanned herself a little harder, completely agreeing with him on that point.

  “Come,” he coaxed. “We can even stay within sight of the terrace if strolling alone with me frightens you.”

  Her lips tightened. “I am not afraid of you, my lord. I simply don’t make it a habit to go traipsing off with every gentleman who asks. I’m a bit more discerning than that.”

  “Oh, of that I have no doubt, my lady. It wouldn’t do to associate with any poor rabble who would be too far beneath you, after all.”

  “That’s not at all what I meant,” she said, resisting the urge to kick him in the shin. “I simply find the company of some more tedious than others.”

  His laughter rang out, catching the attention of her mother whose eyes narrowed dangerously as she saw to whom Elizabet was chatting.

  “I assure you, my lady, I am anything but tedious. I will try my utmost to be as entertaining as possible.”

  He offered her his elbow. Taking it would be a mistake. Not taking it somehow felt worse. His smug smile decided it for her. The man had an uncanny knack for knowing what was going on in her mind. She’d just have to try harder to stay a few steps ahead of him. She took his arm, jutting her chin into the air at his amused surprise. A shiver ran through her at the glint in his eye that had nothing to do with being cold.

  They turned, and Elizabet caught her mother’s disapproving gaze again. She fought down the bubble of unease that threatened to erupt. They were doing nothing wrong. Harmless. Perfectly acceptable.

  Well, harmless might be a stretch. After all, she was reasonably certain the man before her was the same man who was the cause of her current predicament. But she should be safe enough in the palace gardens with courtiers and servants wandering all about. Surely even he wouldn’t be so bold as to try anything nefarious with so many possible witnesses.

  Besides, she had a few words to say to him and might not ever get another chance. He was also young, handsome, charming, and made her body sing with a mere look. With fiercely intelligent eyes that appeared brown upon first inspection, but without the mask darkening their depths, subtle shades of green were apparent. The man beside her might be a scoundrel, but he made her heart pound with excitement. Her life, once she was married, threatened to be very dull. How many more chances would she have for private conversation with such a man? Not many. So, she’d make the most of this opportunity. And enjoy every second of it.

  Though as much as she might try to convince herself it was the price on his head that made her heart pound so, she knew she was lying to herself. Many men had taken her hand, pressed their lips to her skin. Many were scoundrels, some downright criminal. Yet her heart had never soared in their company. Her blood would never heat at the merest brush of her husband’s hand against her skin. She would never stare at his lips, longing to again feel them pressed against her own. In fact, she’d do quite a lot to avoid Sir Robert’s lips from touching hers at all.

  “What are you looking for so intently, my lady?” John asked, the sensation of his breath on her skin as he leaned down to talk to her sending a fine tremor through her. Why could she not be betrothed to a man such as this? One who would stir her interests and passions? Minus the slight detail of his outlawry of course. And the fact that he was responsible for her family’s ruin.

  She tried to ignore her traitorous body and glanced down, away from his penetrating eyes, shocked at the course of her thoughts. It was only because the announcement of her engagement was imminent. She couldn’t hide from it any longer. Once the knowledge was made public, she’d be trapped.

  “An escape,” she whispered. And though she hadn’t meant him to hear, the sudden tightening of his hand upon hers told her he had.

  “From what?” he asked, his voice intent, almost fierce.

  Elizabet looked around. They were alone, protected by hedges on one side, the path winding through shrubs and fountains clear ahead of them. She let go of his arm and turned to face him.

  “From the nightmare of a future you’ve condemned me to.”

  Chapter Six

  John stared at Elizabet, her words unleashing unease and confusion. “What do you mean?” he asked. “What nightmare?”

  Her hand clenched around her fan and for a moment he thought she’d strike him with it.

  “After you and your merry band of bandits accosted us, stole our fortune, my father was forced to make a match for me with the only man who’d still have me.”

  John shook his head. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about. But don’t underestimate your charms, my lady. I have no doubt there are a number of men who’d be only too happy to offer for your hand.”
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  She let out a short laugh through there was no amusement in the sound. “Once, perhaps. Before you stripped us of what was ours. Now, there aren’t many titled men who are willing to take a woman with no dowry, nothing to offer but a family crippled under mounting debts. Sir Robert is the only suitor I have left. And with my family’s situation growing more dismal by the day, I have little choice but to accept him.”

  Guilt gnawed at John. He’d had no intention of shackling the lady with an unwanted husband. The thought of another man sharing her bed filled him with a jealousy he had no right to feel. He tried to push it from his mind. He’d known she’d wed. Eventually. And few women of her station married the man of their choice. Still, worse fates could befall her. Like the fates that had befallen those upon whom her father had preyed. He hadn’t expected her impending marriage to bother him so greatly.

  “Well then, I suppose congratulations are in order,” he forced out.

  “It would be more appropriate to offer your condolences under the circumstances. Or better still, to offer reparation.”

  John snorted. She was persistent, he’d give her that. “I am truly sorry if you find your circumstances not to your liking. But I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage, my lady, when you accuse me of being the one at fault. I have no idea to what you are referring.”

  “Oh come now, Lord Ramsay. No one is around to hear us. There’s no need to keep up the pretense just for me.”

  His stood to his full height, pinning her with his fiercest gaze. She didn’t flinch though her nostrils flared slightly and she sucked in a breath. But she didn’t back down. And he’d had grown men cower before him when he displayed his displeasure.

  He clasped his hands behind his back and did his best to keep his rising temper in check. He didn’t fear her. No matter what she thought she knew, she had no proof of anything. Still, rumors were ugly things that tended to spread. He couldn’t afford any whispers. She played a game without knowing the stakes. A dangerous game. One he couldn’t, wouldn’t, allow her to win.

  It had been a mistake to approach her. But he hadn’t been able to resist when he’d seen her there, glowing and beautiful like a dove amongst the crows. She had been beautiful under the moonlight that night. Beautiful in the candlelight in his cottage. Breathtaking lying naked in his bed. Alluring in a way no woman he’d met had been. Seeing her tonight had taken him by surprise. Her laughter had drawn him like a moth to a flame and he’d crossed the room before he’d even thought it through.

  And now, it seemed, he would pay for his ill-judgment.

  She stepped closer. “You know exactly to what I’m referring.”

  He leaned down, closing the distance between them farther. She didn’t back down either. Despite his anger, he couldn’t help but be impressed.

  “If you’d like to accuse me of something, Miss Harding, you’ll have to be more specific.”

  She took a deep breath, her cheeks flushing. “All right then. If you insist on keeping up the charade, I’ll be specific. Jack.”

  That name on her lips again hit him like a fist to the stomach. He wasn’t quick enough to hide his reaction and she smiled.

  “Or should I call you the Highland Highwayman.”

  He stepped close enough she had to crane her neck to keep eye contact. “That is a very serious accusation, madam.”

  “It’s not an accusation. It’s a fact. You halted our carriage, you stole my family’s fortune.”

  “A fortune that didn’t belong to your family. A fortune your father stole first.”

  She ignored that and continued on, her voice growing softer. “You took me to your cottage. Healed me. Protected me.”

  He felt a smile spreading across his lips despite his best intentions. Oh yes, approaching her had been a mistake. If their time together had affected her even a fraction of how it did him, she’d have known him anywhere. He should have stayed as far from her as possible. Yet seeing her there, how could he have stayed away?

  “And what makes you think that I, a lord of the realm, would need to engage in such activities?”

  She shook her head and shrugged her delicate shoulders. “I have no idea why you would do such things. I only know that you do.”

  “And how do you know?”

  She swallowed, her eyes fixed on his. “Your voice. You do well hiding your accent. But it’s there. But mostly…your eyes.”

  “My eyes?” he murmured.

  “Yes.” Her voice was hardly more than a whisper. “You wore a mask. But your eyes…you can’t hide your eyes.”

  He had to clench his hands into fists to keep from reaching for her. His initial anger and anxiety were still there but overshadowed by something he definitely shouldn’t be feeling for a woman who threatened everything he’d worked toward for the last several years.

  And he wasn’t entirely sure what to do about it.

  “I’m truly sorry, my lady, for whatever troubles your family is experiencing. But those troubles did not stem from me.”

  Elizabet’s gazed burned into his. “Perhaps not. But they can certainly be ended by you.”

  John frowned, for once in his life well and truly stumped. “I’d be happy to offer you my assistance if I may be of some service to you. Though I don’t see how I might help in this instance.”

  “It’s very simple, Lord Ramsay. Your actions have forced upon me a union I loathe.”

  “So you have said.”

  “I require a husband. A wealthy one.”

  “Who, you have told me repeatedly, you have found.”

  “Marriage to Sir Robert is…” A fine shudder ran through her and John steeled himself against the now familiar twinge of guilt where she was concerned.

  “I am sorry you find a good match with a wealthy man who will no doubt leave you a very wealthy widow in the near future so distasteful.”

  “Spoken like a man who will never have to subject himself to the touch of someone he finds so distasteful. Marriage isn’t so simple for a woman.”

  A sudden image of the lecherous Sir Robert laying his hands on the unique beauty before him filled John with a nauseating anger he had no right to feel. He tried to shove the feeling away. “I still fail to see how it has anything to do with me.”

  “Don’t be so coy, Lord Ramsay. Your coffers are deep enough to keep my family from ruin, I’m sure. And you are handsome enough. I suppose.”

  “Merely handsome enough?” he asked, ignoring the comment about his wealth. He knew his wealth had nothing to do with the way she reacted to him. But marrying her would be dangerous. For both of them.

  Her cheeks flushed, the heated blood of her embarrassment staining her delicate porcelain skin.

  “I…didn’t, wouldn’t shudder at your touch, I think,” she said, unable to meet his gaze for the first time since she’d met him.

  He brought his hand up and trailed his finger along her cheek and down the slender column of her neck. He drew her to him, his hand firm on her waist. He leaned down to whisper in her ear while she trembled in his arms.

  “Oh, you’d shudder for me, my little hellcat. But it wouldn’t be because you found my touch unpleasant, that I promise you.”

  His hand cupped her cheek and he dragged his thumb along her bottom lip. Her mouth opened in a tiny gasp and John released her, stepping back before he forgot everything and reminded her exactly how it felt to be in his arms.

  She blinked up at him, confused. Wanting.

  “Perhaps we should return,” he said, straightening the lace at his cuffs just to give his hands something to do so he didn’t reach for her again.

  Elizabet’s jaw snapped shut and that pert little chin of hers jutted back into the air. Battle-ready, was the word that came to mind when she affected that pose. Whatever she was about to say was something he was sure to hate.

  “I propose a deal, Lord Ramsay,” she said.

  “I’m not interested in making any deals with you, my lady.”

  “How d
o you know? You haven’t heard my terms yet.”

  He cocked an eyebrow at her. “Because I have no wish to be involved with you in any way.”

  She flinched slightly and John regretted the necessity of his harshness. His lies. But if wounding her pride would make her rethink the folly she was about to unleash, it was well worth it.

  “Oh, I think you might change your mind,” she persisted.

  “I doubt it.”

  “It’s very simple, my lord. You are responsible for the predicament in which I now find myself, so you will get me out of it. I require a wealthy husband and I would have him be of my choosing.”

  John was struck speechless for the first time in his life. He’d expected some sort of blackmail from her, yes. A demand for money. What he’d stolen from her family. At least enough to provide a dowry, perhaps. But marriage? To him? His mind spun. Even more so because the suggestion appealed to him. Much, much more than it should.

  “And you would choose me? Why ever for? If, as you suggest, I’m responsible for your current plight, why would you want to shackle yourself to me for the rest of your life?”

  Elizabet sighed. She retained the stubborn set of her chin but a great deal of the fight went out of her. “I don’t need to explain all my reasons to you, my lord. Call it retribution, revenge even.”

  “Desire?” he said, not sure why he couldn’t resist taunting her.

  She pressed her lips together, pinning him with a look that would have worked excellently coming from his old governess. “One word works as well as another. I am out of time. My engagement to Sir Robert will be announced in the coming week. But you, as a great friend of the king, can surely obtain his blessing on our union.”

  “Possibly. If I had any wish to do so. Which I do not.”

  “Oh, I think you do, my lord.”

  “And why is that?” he said, his voice low, dangerous. He already knew what she was going to say but he couldn’t quite make himself believe she’d really say it.