Chapter 17
They made their way together through the crowded pub. After the quiet and stillness of the little office room, the noise and heat made Emma feel a little more woozy. The ale she’d drunk was finally starting to affect her, and she clung onto Thomas’s arm tighter than was necessary.
They wound their way through the crowds, heading towards the exit.
“Keep yer head down and try not to make eye contact with anyone,” Thomas murmured. “Or else, they’ll try to talk to us.”
Emma had to smile at that. She was still reeling from what she’d done—what they’d done together—and was looking forward to some peace and quiet to think it all over.
They reached the doorway and stepped out into the blessedly cool night air. She breathed in deeply, tipping back her head and closing her eyes. When she opened them again, she found that Thomas was watching her, a strange expression on his face.
“It’s a wee bit hot in there,” she said by way of explanation, and he smiled.
“The carriage is over there. I… I think I’d like to talk to ye about something, Emma. On the way home. Nothing bad, just… just a talk.”
Her heart started to pound again. Swallowing hard, she nodded. “Aye, that would be fine.”
“Good, good. Now, let’s…”
A head popped out of the doorway behind them.
Dominic.
“There ye are,” he said shortly. “Thomas, we have been looking all over for ye. Wait, are ye leaving?”
Thomas forced a smile. “Aye, Emma’s a wee bit tired. Sorry, lad.”
Dominic sighed in exasperation. “Well, we need to discuss something about the business before ye leave.”
“Can’t it wait?”
“Nay. We’ll only be ten minutes or so.”
Thomas pursed his lips and glanced down at Emma. “I’ll be as quick as I can. Wait for me in the carriage, aye?”
Emma nodded, a smile spreading over her face. She felt warm and excited inside and couldn’t exactly say why. It was the strangest feeling, but one she never wanted to go away.
“Of course. Don’t worry about it.”
Thomas and Dominic disappeared back inside the pub, melting into the crowds and noise.
Emma hurried across the dark courtyard, climbing into the carriage.
It was a little eerie out here, and she wished Thomas would come back quickly.
Her head was starting to clear, and her legs were less jelly-like than before.
She swung open the window shutter so as to see when Thomas came out of the pub again.
A head popped up in the window, and she muffled a scream.
“It’s just me, it’s just me!” gasped the head.
It took a moment for Emma to recognize the woman.
“Flora?” she said, frowning.
Flora was pale and wide-eyed, even in the unreliable moonlight.
“I have to show you something,” she gasped. “Quick, Emma.”
“How did you get out here? What’s going on?”
“Oh, just hurry. Please, please!”
Emma stumbled out of the carriage, panic curling in her chest. Flora was hurrying away towards the dark treeline, and Emma followed her.
Something must be wrong. Surely, something terrible had happened. Could it be Delphine?
Then, a dark figure lumbered out from behind a boulder, and Emma stopped dead in her tracks.
“Hello, lassie,” he said, grinning to reveal yellowed, crooked teeth. “Do ye remember me? Aye, I’m sure ye must.”
“Lachlan McCade,” Emma gasped, feeling as though the air had been knocked out of her lungs.
Images and flashes shot through her mind. His fists flying through the air, fingers tangling in her hair and pulling out chunks, drunken obscenities hurled her way. She felt sick.
She tried to back away but found her feet rooted to the floor. She saw another dark shape hidden behind the boulder where Lachlan had been.
It was Gregor, crouched in the shadow, grinning wickedly at her. She swallowed hard. There was no sign of Flora, but the betrayal was clear.
“What do ye want?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.
Lachlan pressed a hand to his heart. “Ye think I want something? Oh, that hurts, lass. What an implication! Perhaps I just wanted to catch up.”
Emma glanced over her shoulder at the distant lights of the pub. She could hear snatches of laughter from here. If she screamed, would they hear her? There was no sign of Thomas, but if he came out of the pub and found the carriage door swinging open and her not inside, surely he would worry.
“I shouldn’t think of running,” Lachlan said casually. “Gregor here bears quite a grudge against ye. He’s chomping at the bit for a chance to teach ye a lesson. I’d behave if I were ye.”
“Don’t ye dare threaten me,” Emma snapped, sounding much braver than she felt.
It did no good.
Lachlan grinned, teeth glittering wetly in the moonlight. “The thing is, lass, I only cared about men not laying a hand on ye when ye were the town healer. We needed ye, ye see? Ye were valuable. Well, since ye ran off and stopped working for me, I’ve got no need to keep ye safe.”
“Ye did little good of keeping the men away from me,” Emma retorted.
He shrugged lightly. “Aye, but it could have been worse, as I’m sure ye know. I’ll have no such qualms about keeping Gregor in check now, so it’s best that ye stand still and listen to what I have to say, eh?”
Emma swallowed hard, trying to get past the lump of fear in her throat.
It wouldn’t go.
“What do ye want from me, Lachlan?”
He picked thoughtfully at his teeth. “Business is not good at the McCabe pub at the moment. There’s a rival pub causing trouble for us. I’d like ye help to manage this nasty business.”
Emma blinked, confused for a moment. Why would he need her help for this? What was going on?
Then, it hit her.
“The Sinner,” Emma managed, watching the smile on Lachlan’s face widen. “The Sinner is yer rival pub.”
“Clever lassie. Didn’t I say, Gregor, that she was a real sharp one? Not just a pretty face, eh? Aye, lassie, the Sinner. Something needs to be done, and ye are in the perfect place to help me. I knew ye were in Keep MacPherson, but I had no idea that ye were shagging the Laird himself!”
Emma’s face went beet red. She could feel Gregor’s hateful eyes boring into her.
“How dare ye?” she breathed. “I’ll not help ye.”
“Here’s the plan,” Lachlan said as if she hadn’t spoken. “Yer man, Laird Thomas MacPherson, helps run the pub. Ye will give me all the information ye can get from him, and we’ll take it from there. Ye might need to nudge him in the right direction too, aye?”
Emma drew in a breath. “Nay.”
Lachlan’s expression hardened. “Nay? Ye are in no position, lass, to say aye or nay. Ye ran off and left me in the lurch, and I don’t care for that from my workers.”
“They’re not workers, they’re slaves.”
Lachlan took a menacing step closer. Emma longed to move backward, but her feet seemed to be frozen to the ground. He was far too close, his awful breath curling about her face. She tried not to breathe.
“What’s to stop me and Gregor just taking ye out into the woods right now and having a wee chat? Not that we’ll be doing much talking—until ye reconsider, eh?” Lachlan asked lightly.
“Let me get my hands on her, McCade,” Gregor growled from his hiding place. “I’ll teach her a lesson she’ll not soon forget.”
“Shut up,” Lachlan snapped. “Stay hidden. What say ye, Emma?”
Emma forced herself to meet his too-small, piggy eyes.
“I say that Laird Thomas MacPherson is in that pub down there, along with about a hundred of his friends and family,” she replied, her voice surprisingly calm.
“He’ll step out of the door at any second now and see immediately that I’m not in the carriage.
He’ll know right then that something is wrong.
He knows I was meant to meet him there. Then, he and his friends will swarm over these hills like insects, looking for me.
I’ll be struggling, fighting for my life, probably screaming.
Ye can barely keep up a brisk jog without wheezing, and I can put up a fine fight when I need to.
So, I can’t help but think that ye are doing something very dangerous, McCade. ”
Lachlan’s eyes hardened as she spoke, flicking back down to the lit beacon of the Sinner and back again. Realization swept over him, along with pure hatred and anger.
Emma’s knees wobbled, but she refused to allow herself to buckle.
I’m not that timid, frightened wee lassie I was when I worked for him. I’m someone else.
“Ye might have a point,” Lachlan said lightly, ignoring Gregor’s audible complaints. He moved closer still until their noses were almost brushing and lifted a hand to pinch her cheeks. His fingernails were ragged and sharp, digging into her skin. “But this isn’t over, lassie. Not by a long shot.”
He let go of her face, pushing her backward so that she staggered, and wiped his fingers on his grubby shirt. Turning on his heel, he stumped off towards the woods, and a shadow-like Gregor slunk after him, sparing her one baleful glance.
Emma’s hands were shaking, and her knees were all but knocking together. Not bothering to try and find Flora or to demand an explanation, she turned tail and fled as fast as she could back down the hill towards the waiting carriage.
Thomas disentangled himself from Dominic’s dry business conversation as soon as he could, heading straight for the exit again. He thought of Emma waiting for him in the carriage, and anticipation fizzled in his stomach.
It was time to tell her the truth. The proper truth. He would tell her how he felt about her. He’d even tell her all the foolish decisions he had made, like accidentally bullying her in an attempt to flirt and asking Delphine to dismiss her, which hadn’t even worked.
Emma might not be pleased to hear all this. She might not want the relationship between them to progress, but he was determined to try.
He’d nearly reached the door when an elegant hand curled around his arm, yanking him to a halt.
“I’m sorry, I must leave…” he began, trailing off when he saw who had grabbed him. “Astrid.”
Astrid was as beautiful as ever, of course, but it didn’t seem to matter to him anymore. There was a strange, cold look in her eyes that he didn’t like.
Had that always been there?
“I can’t stay,” he said shortly, trying to yank his arm away.
Her grip was surprisingly strong. “I have something to show ye, Me Laird. Please, it’ll just take a moment. I think that ye ought to see it.”
Thomas frowned, glancing at the open doorway. He could just walk out and be gone.
“Fine,” he said reluctantly, “but I really only have a few moments.”
She beamed. “Not to worry, Me Laird. Come here, to the window.”
She led him to a shadowy corner of the pub, where a small window was set deep into the wall. It offered a view of the courtyard, and he could see the carriage waiting out there, with the dark hillside looming beyond, dusted with silvery moonlight.
“Why are you showing me…” he trailed off, noticing that the carriage door was open. Wide open, and Emma was not inside. “Wait, where is she?”
He leaned closer to the window, holding his breath so as not to fog up the glass, and scanned the dark hillside.
Thomas saw Emma silhouetted on the peak, and his breath stopped in his throat. He could tell at once that it was her standing there. But, who was the man?
They stood beside a large boulder, probably thinking that they were hidden from view of the pub below. The man was a large, bulky sort of man, as far as Thomas could tell, but he and Emma were standing close together.
Too close.
Thomas couldn’t hear a word of their conversation, of course. Even without the chatter and chaos of the pub, they were too far away. But he could tell that the man was talking, and then Emma was talking.
As he watched, disbelieving, the man stepped closer still. She did not back away. He lifted a hand to caress her face, and she did not slap it away.
Thomas leaned back, feeling sick and dizzy. Who was the man? Was this why Emma came out here? To meet him? Did he follow her?
“I’m sorry, Me Laird,” Astrid said softly. “I thought ye ought to know.”
Thomas gave his head a little shake. “No, I… I’m glad ye told me. This is… this is something I should know about.”