Chapter 4
Chapter 4
“This way, my lady,” said the innkeeper, jarring Maura’s attention from the highlander.
The moment of recognition passed, and if the man had actually intended to approach her, the innkeeper’s interruption kept him away. She and Bridget followed the proprietor to the back of the inn to the busy kitchen. Two industrious serving maids were arranging food-laden plates on trays while a cook stood at the fire, lifting a huge roast from a spit.
“Have we any cheese in the larder, Donald?” the innkeeper asked.
Maura pondered whether the highlander would have spoken to her if the innkeeper hadn’t come for her at that very moment. She wondered about his voice and whether his English was tinged with the Gaelic sounds of the highlands.
She realized she longed to hear it.
“Aye,” the cook replied to the innkeeper, “but ye’ll get it yerself since we’ve a full house and I’ve got me hands full.”
While Maura’s host collected bread and cheese and put them onto a plate, she turned her attention to what really mattered. There was a dark passageway behind the kitchen, but no servants’ stairway. She saw a door in an outer corridor that might lead outside, but did not open it to check. Lieutenant Baird had come into the kitchen with them, and if he noticed her interest, he would surely assign one of his men to keep watch over her during the night.
The men had been fairly vigilant during their travels thus far, but relaxed, since Maura had been careful to be compliant for the most part. She hoped they would not suspect she had any plan but to travel with them all the way to Cromarty, in spite of all her pleas to be returned to Glasgow.
“My lady,” said the innkeeper, “I would be happy to carry a meal up to your room if—”
“Thank you, kind sir,” Maura replied, surprising him by taking the plate from him and going back toward the public room. “But I’ve been confined inside my carriage for three days and I need...” She glanced pointedly at a scowling Lieutenant Baird. “The taproom suits me well.”
She left Bridget to settle into her room and went back to the main rooms of the inn.
“Lady Maura,” the lieutenant said as she stopped at the crowded taproom. “I would caution you not to—”
“Do you see all the other ladies here, Lieutenant? Surely there is no reason why I cannot join them.”
“This is unwise, my lady.”
His tone grated upon her nerves, so Maura decided to ignore him. She took advantage of the few moments she could breathe without Bridget Hammond’s company, and sat down at a table not far from the highlanders. Her heart gave a great sigh at the pure savage power emanating from the man who’d been the focus of her attention. He and his companions seemed to be in some disagreement, and Maura strained to hear their voices.
One of them mentioned gold and a map, but he was quickly hushed by the leader.
Almost before Maura had a chance to connect the highlander’s words with those spoken by the Duke of Argyll and his brother, Lieutenant Baird came to stand between her and the highlander warriors. Baird leaned forward, laying his hand flat on her table and making no attempt to mask his displeasure as she looked up at him.
Maura used her haughtiest tone to put him in his place. “I would take a glass of ale, Lieutenant Baird ... if you would be so kind ...”
She wanted the observant lieutenant away for just a moment, so she could look her fill at the bold highlander whose low voice caused an undeniable flip in the pit of her stomach.
She took a deep breath and admonished herself to pay attention to the matter at hand, which was escaping Lieutenant Baird and his men.
Still, she could not help but wonder if the warrior’s mention of gold could be connected to Argyll’s warning that once the highlanders heard of it—
“I thought you were famished, Lady Maura,” Lieutenant Baird said in a blatantly sarcastic tone when he returned and placed her cup of ale on the table. Maura looked at her plate and realized she hadn’t yet taken a bite.
“I was waiting for my ale, Lieutenant,” she retorted. “My mouth was too dry to eat.” Aye, dry from gawking at the highlander.
Maura took a sip of ale and considered the possibility that the highlanders had yet another portion of the same map she had taken from Ilay’s desk. Hers had been torn from some larger part, she was sure. What she would not give for a look at the warrior’s map.
Baird hovered near Maura’s table, so close that she had trouble gathering her thoughts. “My lady, I implore you to make haste.” He framed it as a request, bur Maura knew it was an order.
The lieutenant was annoyed with her, but that was nothing unusual. She ignored him and tucked into the bread and cheese while she perused the room. Now she knew most of the layout of the main floor, and exactly where to look for the food she intended to take when she left the inn.
For she had to leave that night, without fail, whether or not the highlanders had part of her map. Argyll had spoken of recruiting twenty men, and as soon as he did so, he was sure to look in his brother’s desk for his map. If not before.
Maura did not have much time before he realized who must have taken it and came after her. The sooner she got away, the better.
For the first time since she’d begun her journey to Cromarty, Maura had a room to herself, which gave her a perfect opportunity to study her map and see if she could determine exactly where the gold was hidden. If she could find it before Argyll, she and Rosie wouldn’t have to rely upon the largesse of any of their brothers, for ’twas unlikely any of them—even Aiden—would defy their father’s wishes and take them in. Her righteous sisters would be even worse.
She refused to think how improbable it was that she would be able to track down the gold before Argyll. Or at all. If there was even the slightest possibility of getting herself and Rosie away from the tyrants who dictated their—
“Lieutenant, a word.” It was Corporal Higgins, one of Baird’s men, who’d come up behind the lieutenant.
“Stay here,” Baird ordered Maura, eyeing the highlanders with mistrust.
“Of course, Lieutenant.” What did he think the Scotsmen would do? Abduct her from a crowded tavern? She almost laughed at the very idea. Lord Aucharnie would pay no ransom for her. On the contrary, he would welcome the disappearance of his problematic daughter, for he had six very successful ones, not to mention four strapping sons.
If Maura vanished, so would her frequent letters imploring her parents to relent and reunite her with Rosie. Gone would be the constant reminder that he’d condemned his youngest child to death at her birth, then abandoned her when he learned she still lived.
Maura resumed her surreptitious observation of the highlanders as Baird and his man stepped a few paces away and carried on an earnest conversation.
She heard the rich masculine tones of the warriors’ voices and noted the deep connection they shared. ’Twas the same kind of bond she shared with Rosie—unbreakable—for they only had each other.
The lass was even more beautiful in close quarters. And Dugan would not mind getting even closer. The opportunity came when she dropped something to the floor.
Dugan left his brother and the others at the bar and stepped over to her table, bending to retrieve the handkerchief she’d dropped. Purposely, if he was not mistaken. She intrigued him, and his fascination grew in pace with his arousal.
“Madam ...” He handed the delicate cloth to her. And when he looked into her eyes that were the clear, deep green of his beautiful Braemore glen, he felt his breath catch and his knees wobble. ’Twas pure lust, and it was invigorating. He’d become so accustomed to duty and worry that he’d forgotten the sheer, unadulterated pleasure of desiring a beautiful woman.
“Thank you, sir,” she said quietly, “or is it Laird?” Her rosy lips parted slightly and she drew her lower lip slowly through her teeth. Dugan reacted with a full-blown arousal. His cock twitched to life even though it seemed she had no idea how sensuous the gesture was.
He wanted to taste those lips, wanted to spar with her tongue and teeth. Ach, aye—he would love to feel those soft curves against his body.
“Aye,” he managed to reply. “Laird Dugan MacMillan.”
“And I must thank you, too, for ... earlier.”
“ ’Twas my very great pleasure to aid you.” He would have taken her hand in his, just for the wonder of feeling her skin against his own. But he would not compromise her any further in this public place.
“Are you very far from home, Laird MacMillan?” Her voice was the soft trickle of a burn over mossy pebbles.
“Aye. A fairly good piece.”
“Is it business that brings you to Fort William?” she asked.
He nodded, taking note of the rapid pulse at her throat. What he would not give to touch his mouth to that spot, to taste the spicy tang of her skin. Her face was devoid of freckles, but for a tiny mole at the outside corner of her eye, which he found unusual for a red-haired lass. A silky lock of her hair curled at her nape, and he resisted the urge to wrap it ’round his finger.
“And you?” he asked, reining in his lust. ’Twas clear she was not some tavern trollop who would welcome his advances. And yet she’d been all alone earlier at the burn.
The English officer he’d seen earlier came to the lady’s table and stood rigidly facing him. When the man spoke, his harsh tone indicated his willingness to engage in an unpleasant confrontation, here and now. Dugan put his hand on his claymore, ready for anything the damned bleater might try.
“Is there something I can do for you, highlander?”
“Ihappened to drop something, Lieutenant, and the gentleman merely handed it to me,” Maura said hurriedly. She did not want to cause any problems for Laird MacMillan. The man had thoroughly charmed her. Her heart and lungs still quivered impossibly, just from his proximity, and her skin radiated a heated awareness.
He was ruggedly handsome and entirely self-assured, and Maura did not think Baird stood a chance against him. But she did not care to see any blood shed because of her tiny flirtation.
She knew ’twas wholly improper to engage in conversation with a stranger, but she had not been able to resist speaking to the man who had saved her life. She needed to thank him for killing the ram with his clean shot. And to be truthful, she’d wanted—no, needed—to see if he shared the same astonishing attraction she felt.
“Then you can just go on your way, Sandy,” Lieutenant Baird said, using the shortened form of the ubiquitous Scottish name Alexander. Its use dismissed the laird as rudely as possible without insulting him overtly.
“Aye, I could if I were ready, Lieutenant Napper.”
Maura nearly laughed aloud at the highlander’s retort, an insulting reference to Lieutenant Baird’s bare scalp.
Laird MacMillan turned to her. “All is well, then, miss?” he asked. “You do not need me to remove this rough character from your presence?”
“Now see here, man!” A torturous vein pulsed at Baird’s temple. “Lady Maura—”
“That is enough, Lieutenant Baird.” Maura did not trust herself to look up at the highlander for fear of betraying her mirth ... or her interest. Lieutenant Baird need not be alerted to the notice she’d taken of the man who’d rescued her, or her amusement at his expense. There was no good reason to foment the natural animosity between the highlander and her English escort.
“Yes,” she replied to the highlander with a slight nod. “The lieutenant and I have a mission.”
Laird MacMillan bowed elegantly. “Then I will leave you in his dubious care.” He looked at Baird as he would at the lowest creature on earth.
Baird started to say something more, but seemed to think better of it. Instead, he glared back at MacMillan as the highlander returned to the bar. Then he sat down across from Maura, glowering.
“Is there a problem, Lieutenant?” Maura asked, still distracted. She could hardly believe she’d had the nerve to begin a flirtation with the highland laird by dropping her handkerchief. But she did not regret it, not in the least.
“Only that I leave you for half a moment and return to find you in the arms of that filthy red shanks.”
“In the arms—!” Maura closed her mouth rather than dignifying the man’s accusation with a response. Besides, it would not do to become involved in a row with the lieutenant now, not when she wanted him feeling relaxed and complacent enough for her to escape. “You misunderstood, Lieutenant. That’s all,” she managed to say. Soon she would be away from her odious escort and all his men. “What did Corporal Higgins say?”
Baird wiped his brow, and the movement of his hand against his smooth skin grated on Maura. But she ignored it, needing to know what issue had called him away. “There is a question of space for my men here at the inn,” he explained.
Maura frowned with feigned concern. “And ... did the innkeeper find rooms for them?”
“Only one. For me. My men will stay at the fort tonight,” he replied, and Maura felt relieved. She did not want to trip over a member of her escort as she sneaked out of the inn after dark.
“Oh. That’s very good, then, is it not?”
He gave her a sour look, which she ignored.
“I believe I’ll take a walk through town after I finish here, Lieutenant Baird. Perhaps Bridget will accompany me, or would you rather assign one of your men?”
Dugan could not believe the comely lass was in the company of English soldiers. He should have known a pampered beauty like Lady Maura would be the wife or daughter of some high and mighty lowland lord. Who else would be dressed in such fine cloth? Not that she was the least bit ostentatious. Her cloak was black and her unadorned gown was a dark green that gave her eyes the richness of deep summer.
He’d fallen for her flirtatious ploy. What a bloody neep he was. He should have noticed her military escort, but he and the lads had been in deep discussion about their plans for the morrow. He would have to be more vigilant, especially while they remained in this garrison town. He had no interest in having any sort of confrontation with her escort.
His eyes wandered back to Lady Maura, and even though she was a lady, and in the company of a royalist officer, Dugan could not forget her womanly scent or the dimples that creased her cheeks when she smiled.
He would enjoy doing more than just passing the time of day with her. ’Twas far too easy to imagine the sweet bounty of feminine skin hidden beneath her traveling gown, and how soft it would feel in his hands. He grew hard thinking about grazing her full lower lip with his teeth while he brought the tips of her breasts to hardened peaks. He would—
“Did she invite ye to her room then, Laird?” Archie asked in a low tone.
“Shut your trap, MacLean,” he snapped, far too aware of the heated flesh beneath his plaid. “We need to decide on the direction we’ll take on the morrow.”
Baird sent Higgins with Lady Maura on her walk about town. He did not think he could abide spending any more time than was absolutely necessary with the woman, especially not after seeing her making eyes at the filthy highlander.
Was that not just like her—to find favor with a cursed Jacobite? He spit on the ground as he walked toward the garrison to check in with the commanding officer there.
Maura had been quite clear about her distaste for her chosen bridegroom. Not that Baird blamed her, but she’d received her father’s orders. It was not up to her to question—or defy—the earl. He most certainly was not going to take her back to Glasgow, no matter how desperately or how often she entreated him.
Maura was the most intractable female he’d ever met. He would not bet against her refusing to wed Kildary when she arrived on the church steps for their nuptials. ’Twould be the one way to guarantee that the old baron would have naught to do with her when Aucharnie tried to make reparation.
Baird wondered what kind of pact Aucharnie had made with Kildary. ’Twas likely that a great deal of money was involved. But whose? Did Aucharnie pay a handsome dowry to be rid of his troublesome offspring? Or had Kildary paid the earl a generous bride price for a young, fertile wife?
Of course, Lord Aucharnie had not shared any information with him. But he hoped his success in this mission would prompt Lord Aucharnie finally to recommend his promotion. He deserved a captaincy, by God. Everyone knew it.
His posting at Aucharnie Castle was supposed to have been a boon to his career. His father, General John Baird, had promised as much when he’d recommended Alastair for transfer to Aucharnie from a tiny outpost west of Aberdeen. The general had told him to bide his time, and when Alastair was ready, he would be transferred.
But Aucharnie was hardly any better than the outpost.
“ ’Tis Ramsay who is in Lord Aucharnie’s confidence,” Baird muttered as though his father could hear.
Early in his tenure at Aucharnie, he’d taken matters into his own hands and set his sights upon the earl’s daughter. For surely the son-in-law of an earl would possess significant prestige and authority. ’Twas the perfect way to bypass Ramsay’s influence.
Alastair’s ears burned at the memory of Maura’s humiliating rejection. She’d toyed with him for months, leading him on until he’d been in a fever to possess her. The lass wandered about the estate at all hours with no escort but her stunted cripple of a sister. ’Twas only right that he rein her in and rid her of the wee red-thatched troll that was so attached to her.
But the bitch had spurned him at the last while two of his subordinates looked on. Her behavior toward him was utterly unforgivable, and Baird had every intention of seeing that the earl’s daughter got what she deserved—marriage to the old lecher in Cromarty. Either that ... or perhaps ’twould be more satisfactory if she met with a convenient “accident” if she defied him again.
They had at least two more days on the road before they reached Cromarty, and Baird was not familiar with the territory ahead of them. According to his map, there would be no inn where they could spend the intervening night. They would have to sleep in some cold, dank crofter’s cottage if he found one along the way.
The more he thought of it, an accident was far more appealing than having to complete the rest of his journey to Cromarty with the higher-than-mighty Maura and her crotchety old companion. Next time Maura decided to take a walk among the craggy cliffs of the highlands, he intended to give his permission. Gladly.
Then he would follow her and show her the error of her ways—while he took his pleasure of her sinfully enticing body—and then discard her like the proud piece of rubbish she was.