Corrupted By the Ruthless Highlander (British Brides of the Highlands #2)

Chapter 1

“Come now,” Margaret whispered as she pressed her shoulder against the heavy wooden door in the manor’s kitchen. “I know you can open. Please work with me.”

The door, unforgiving under her ministrations, groaned in protest. A thrill ran through her at the sound. Freedom was right on the other side of the solid mahogany. She just needed to push a little harder, just a little—

“Did you check the lock?”

Eva, Margaret’s cousin and best friend, stood with her hands on her hips. A tiny smile played on her lips, likely reveling in the way she frightened her. Though Margaret could sense an undercurrent of concern in the tight set of her shoulders and the pinch between her brows.

“Of course, I checked the lock,” Margaret replied, her cheeks growing hot as she stepped away from the threshold. “The door just… well, it doesn’t want to cooperate with me.”

Humming, Eva stepped forward, slipping the key out from the sleeve of her nightgown. Without looking at Margaret, she inserted it into the lock and turned it. She took it out and then turned the knob.

The door opened without any resistance. It might as well have been mocking Margaret.

“Seems you didn’t check the lock very well,” Eva observed, amused.

“Perhaps I knocked it back into place,” Margaret suggested. She straightened her dress, trying her best to look more confident than she felt. “I’ve already told you that door was not cooperating with me.”

“Naturally,” Eva said, her eyes sweeping over Margaret’s form.

It was well past midnight, yet she was still in her day dress. A pair of sturdy boots adorned her feet, and slung over her shoulders was a cloak to protect her against the chill of the evening.

“It’s quite late for a walk,” Eva said after a moment of silence. “And one would assume that a lady would simply use the front door rather than sneak out through the cooks’ quarters. They might think she’s trying to run away, mightn’t they?”

Margaret stayed quiet, glancing into the night. Escape was so close. She had nearly gotten out before she was caught. Granted, the door wouldn’t be open if it weren’t for her cousin’s arrival, but she would have figured it out. Eventually.

“Well,” Eva said as she ducked forward to catch Margaret’s gaze. She tucked a stray strand of Margaret’s blonde hair that had fallen from its braid behind her ear. “Are you going to tell me why you’re stealing away in the middle of the night?”

“I’m doing what I have to,” Margaret replied, raising her chin with conviction.

Eva frowned. “I’m not sure I understand.”

Margaret sighed, shaking her head. Had she anticipated being stopped, she’d have had a more compelling argument. Instead, she grasped at the explanations bouncing in her head.

“I must leave,” she urged as she grabbed onto Eva’s wrist. “I have…” She swallowed hard, cursing herself for tripping over her words at such a vital moment. “Duke Cunningham. He’s trying to blackmail your parents into marrying me off to him.”

Her heart pounded in her chest at the mere mention of his name. The man was known for his cruelty, and she was sure that would extend to the woman who eventually married him. A life with that man would mean a life of fear for Margaret.

“My parents would never do such a thing,” Eva said, her voice rising in volume with her outrage. “You must know that, Margaret. They love you as if you’re their own. They want a good life for you.”

“I know,” Margaret whispered. She shot her cousin a warning look, not wanting to attract the attention of anyone else in the manor. “I do not worry about their actions. It’s Duke Cunningham I worry about.”

I have no idea how he’ll act. If he doesn’t get what he wants… I’ve heard stories of people being forcibly taken and battered when he finally got his hands on them. Oh, I don’t want to think about what he’d do to me.

“Margaret,” Eva said softly, speaking as if she were trying to comfort a spooked horse, “you don’t have to worry.”

“I do,” Margaret argued as she pulled her hands back to her sides. “If they refuse him, none of us is safe. Staying here would put all of us in danger. He’ll stop at nothing to get what he wants. But… but if I run away, I’ll be able to keep everyone here safe.”

Eva stared at Margaret. There were surely words on the tip of her tongue, pleas for Margaret to stay, but they didn’t come.

She knows I’m right. She doesn’t want me to leave, but she knows there isn’t another way.

“Where do you plan to go?” Eva asked, wrapping her arms around herself. “It’s not safe for a woman to travel alone.”

“It’s safer than staying here,” Margaret reminded her, the joke falling flat. Grimacing, she continued, “I’ll be crossing the border. The Highlands is the only place where Cunningham doesn’t have influence.”

She didn’t bother mentioning her fear. Eva had been raised with the same stories that she had. Scotsmen were savages. By crossing the border, Margaret would be trading one danger for another.

At least this way, her family would be safe.

“The Highlands?” Eva said, a glint of excitement in her eye. The stories they were told had never seemed to bother her. In fact, she used to make fun of them. “Really?”

“Yes.”

Margaret was shaking. Trying to hide it, she clenched her fists at her sides. She refused to lose her nerve, but every minute she remained in the manor made her stomach tighten.

“I always knew you were brave,” Eva said before pulling Margaret into a hug. “Oh, how I envy you. I’ve always wanted to see the Highlands.”

“Eva…”

“Perhaps you want company,” Eva suggested, smiling though the light didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I could change and pack a bag.”

Margaret would have loved the company, but she couldn’t willingly drag her cousin into this mess. The only way she could ensure this worked was to go alone.

“You must stay here where it’s safe,” Margaret said, wishing her words didn’t steal the glint of excitement from Eva’s eyes.

“Then I’ll visit you,” Eva declared. “I’ll visit when you find somewhere safe to stay. Perhaps you’ll meet a handsome Highlander who’ll sweep you off your feet.”

“Perhaps,” Margaret murmured though the thought of being wed to one of those beasts made her sweat beneath her shift. “Or perhaps I’ll find a nice lady looking for a maid.”

“That’s not a position befitting of you,” Eva argued. Then, she shook her head, likely in an attempt to stop her train of thought. “Promise you’ll write as soon as you can.”

Margaret nodded, her gray eyes tingling as tears threatened to form.

She didn’t trust her voice not to betray her.

This was the most difficult decision she had ever made for herself.

Leaving her home and her aunt and uncle, who took her in when she had no one else, had never crossed her mind. Until now.

“Oh, Margaret!” Eva cried, lunging forward to wrap her cousin in another bone-crushing hug. “I beg you’ll be safe. Keep your wits about you, please.”

“I will,” she promised, returning the embrace. “You know I will.”

The girls lingered in each other’s arms. Both seemed to understand that this could be the last time in a long while that they’d see one another. Margaret drew as much strength as she could from Eva’s presence, hoping to absorb some of her fearlessness about the unknown land into her marrow.

“I’ll do everything I can to delay Mother and Father from sending a search out for you,” Eva said when she finally released Margaret from her grip. “But you must send word when you’re safe. Otherwise, I will urge them after you.”

“I expect nothing less,” Margaret replied, taking a step away.

She looked out the open door into the unforgiving darkness beyond. It called to her, telling her this was the only way. And while she was still frightened of the new experiences waiting for her, she had a sense that she was always meant to leave—perhaps in the same way she’s leaving now.

“Please lock this behind me,” she said as she stepped over the threshold into the cool night air, pulling her cloak tighter around her shoulders. She looked at Eva, committing her features to memory. “Wouldn’t want anyone getting in.”

“Of course,” Eva said, giving her a watery smile.

Then, fearing she’d never leave if she didn’t do it, Margaret took hold of the door and closed it. She stood there, waiting for what, she didn’t know. It wasn’t until the lock clicked back into place that she started her journey, well and truly on her own.

I pray that I don’t get killed the second I cross the border.