“They are families — fictional, as it were — in Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet,” he said. “They hated one another so that it ultimately led to the demise of the young lovers. All I am saying, Miss McDougall, is to not let a family grudge come between what could be something worth exploring.”
“Do you mean — between the two of us?” she asked, slightly incredulous that this man, who likely spent his time with much more refined ladies than she, might be interested in her.
“Of course,” he said, lifting an eyebrow, his dark eyes boring into hers. “To what else might I be referring?”
She opened her mouth, unsure of how to even respond to his words, when suddenly she felt a hand upon her back, which quickly pulled her away from Mr. Gowan, bringing her to rest against a very warm, very hard chest. She swallowed and looked up to see Rory’s face scowling down at her and Mr. Gowan.
“What,” he ground out between clenched teeth, “is going on here?”
Chapter 8
Rory had been deep in conversation with another Highlander, one who advertised to tourists, as they did. He had been discussing how to share the word of their opportunity and was intrigued by what the man had to say, of the brochures he had made and the various tiers of pricing he had created for his clientele. It was fascinating. Rory knew Peggy was at his back but hadn’t felt her move, giving him the encouragement to continue his conversation. Until he turned around and saw just exactly what — or whom — was keeping her occupied.
“MacTavish!” Gowan looked far too pleased with Rory’s reaction as he responded to his question, his fake charm seeping out of every pore. “I was just telling the lovely Miss McDougall here about literature that I thought she would very much be interested in. She tells me business brings ye to Glasgow. Is there anything in particular that I might like to know of?”
“Nothing at all,” said Rory, wrapping an arm around Peggy, unable to explain his possessiveness of her even to himself, but needing Gowan to understand that she was not available to him. Not now, not ever. He sensed Peggy’s surprised stare but didn’t turn to look at her.
Gowan sent one more smile Peggy’s way before turning back to Rory. “A moment alone, perhaps, MacTavish?”
“I’m not sure about that.” He didn’t want to leave Peggy by herself in the middle of the pub.
“Are ye sure you want to discuss our business right here?” Gowan asked, sending a meaningful look Peggy’s way. Rory couldn’t see her face but he had a feeling that this conversation was only intriguing her all the more.
“Fine, five minutes,” he said, pointing to a small table far enough away that they wouldn’t be overheard, but close enough he could still keep an eye on Peggy. “Just a moment, Peg,” he said, finally releasing her, turning her to look at him so that she would understand the importance of his words. “Will ye stay here? For just five minutes? Don’t go making me chase you.”
She nodded, and he could tell she was more than slightly inquisitive of his business with Gowan. He only wished that it wasn’t for such disreputable reasons the man wanted to speak to him — then perhaps he could have shared more with her.
He followed Gowan to the place along the wall, remaining standing with his arms crossed over his chest as he kept his eyes on Peggy.
“She’s a striking thing, isn’t she?” asked Gowan, leaning back in his chair as he looked up at Rory, unaffected by the Highlander’s commanding physical presence.
“I suppose.” Rory shrugged.
“I canna say I pegged you for the type who would go after a woman so close to home,” Gowan said with a grin, “though I can see why now.”
“I’m not ‘going after’ Peg,” Rory mumbled. “I’m simply watching out for her.”
“Whatever you say, MacTavish,” said Gowan with a wave. “You know what I want to speak with ye about. Where’s my money?”
“I dinna owe you anymore.” Rory’s head finally whipped back toward the man, his eyes narrowing in anger.
“You paid the principal, to be sure,” said Gowan, his grin turning sly. “But there is much more owing in interest.”
“You inflated it,” Rory ground out. “You have it all. I’ll no’ pay you another cent.”
He had made a stupid decision last year to gamble with the man, the proprietor of one of the establishments he had frequented. Now Gowan wouldn’t leave him be.
“Not pay me?” Gowan asked, standing now so that he somewhat neared Rory’s height. “Do you know what happens when men don’t pay me? We go after those they love instead. You wouldn’t want the lovely Miss McDougall to pay for your sins, now would you, MacTavish?”
Rory bristled, his entire body filled with tension, and he held himself under just enough control so that he didn’t rear back and punch the man in the face.
“Leave her alone,” he muttered in a guttural tone. “In every way possible.”
“Ye’d like that, wouldn’t you, MacTavish?” he asked. “You’ve given me some ideas. If ye don’t like them, I suggest you pay me — without delay.”
And with that, he slipped through the crowd, reminding Rory of one of the eels they’d always chased as children at the bottom of Loch Ness, one that they could never quite catch. This one, however, he wouldn’t let escape him.
“So what was that about?”
Rory sighed, turning to find Peggy standing next to him, arms crossed over her chest as she tapped her foot impatiently. There was something different about her tonight, he suddenly realized. The bodice of her dress was lower, and perhaps, the material flowed more than usual? It certainly showed more of her curves, making him see her in an entirely different light. And he wasn’t sure if he liked it.
“Dance with me,” he said suddenly, not wanting to answer her.
“What?”
“Dance with me.” And with that, he took her hand and pulled her into the middle of the crowded dance floor.
“I’m not much of a dancer,” she shouted after him as she followed him through the throng of people.
“It’s all right,” he said as he turned her about to face him, taking one of her hands in one of his, placing his other on her waist. “No one here is particularly good. That’s not what it’s about.”
He grinned at her then, beginning to swing her around the floor. He had spent enough time on a dance floor to keep them from crashing into the other couples, though he could see Peggy’s eyes widen each time they came close. She was tense at first, unsure, her footing uneven, but as she slowly relaxed into the music, she let go, and the wild abandon that he had always known to be within Peggy McDougall began to emerge. When she threw back her head and laughed, he couldn’t help but join in, and soon he was so caught up in the moment, in the music, in the thrill that it all went spiraling through him. He had been on hundreds of dance floors with countless women but never had he felt such joy, such connection as he did at this moment. There was magic here that he couldn’t deny.
When the music finally came to a halt, Rory paused in their momentum, but he didn’t let go of her. They both stood there, their breath coming in short gasps as they stared at one another. The smile began to dip from his lips as something seemed to settle between them. Before Rory could name it, however, the fiddle started up again, soon joined by the rest of the instruments, and without speaking they were in motion once more.
He didn’t know what he was feeling for Peggy McDougall, but he had to quickly determine what it was. For this wasn’t a woman he could have a harmless flirtation with. If he wanted her, he would have to be sure he was willing to accept that it could become permanent. And he wasn’t sure if that was a step he was ready for.
* * *
It was one of the best nights of her life, and Peggy didn’t want it to end. Roderick came to find them, pointing to the door in a signal to leave. Peggy shook her head, protesting, and Roderick leaned in to speak with them.
“It’s getting late,” he said. “It’s probably time we take ye home, Peg, and Gwen’s
ready to leave anyway. The crowd’s getting drunker, most women are leaving…” He shrugged, clearly trying to be the responsible older brother.
“Give her one more dance,” Rory suggested. “Then I’ll take her back to the hotel. We’re not far at all — just a couple of minutes’ walk. I promise to get her home safely.”
Roderick’s glance toward him was one of disbelief, though then he looked back toward his wife and seemed torn.
“Fine,” he finally relented. “But if Peggy doesn’t return within an hour, I’ll be back to find her — and you as well.”
“Understood,” Rory said with a mock salute, and Peggy beamed at him in thanks before skipping back to the dance floor. This song was lively, and she was soon kicking up her heels with the rest of them, Rory across from her. She laughed as she spun in a circle, arms freely flowing overhead.
The music finally ended on a crescendo, and Peggy fell into Rory’s broad chest, her laughter continuing as she did so. He held her close to him, his arms around her back as he chuckled at her enthusiasm until finally the low hum of chatter that remained in the room seemed like silence following the clamor of music.
Peggy’s laughter faded with it, and suddenly she realized that she and Rory were simply standing there, his arms around her. She eased back from him, clearing her throat.
“I, ah, that is — that was fun,” she finished lamely, and he took pity on her, smiling and holding out his arm toward her.
“Come, my lady,” he said. “’Tis time we head back before your brother comes after me. Though, I could likely take him on, do ye not agree?”
“I’m not altogether sure,” she said, looking at him as though she were reviewing his stature. “I’ve seen the two of you go at it before, and it always seemed to be a pretty even match.”
He shook his head as he gave out a gruff guffaw, but he steered her toward the door.
As they exited, Rory dipping his head under the low wooden doorframe, Peggy heard a shout from down the street. She squinted in the dim light, just able to make out a form running past them, a cloak billowing behind her. For, Peggy realized as she watched the figure go, something about it had reminded her of a woman. Her build, perhaps? She wasn’t sure, but a man followed, shouting at the cloaked person as he did. “Thief! Stop her, she stole my pocket watch!”
Peggy could only look on in amazement for a moment before something within her spurred her into action.
“Rory!” she said, grabbing his hand. “We must help — come on!”
And before he could respond, she took off down the street after the two of them. Well-conditioned from years of running and attempted riding around her Highland home, she was making quick progress — even outrunning Rory for a moment. His boots pounded on the pavement behind her, but she didn’t stop to take a look back. What she was going to do when she actually caught up to the pair ahead of them, she had no idea, but it wasn’t within her to simply watch without taking action.
Peggy was catching up to the first figure, but the man seemed to have suddenly disappeared. She wrenched her head one way and then the other as she looked for him — he was right there a moment ago, was he not? Where could he have gone so quickly? But all she could see was the cloak flying in the wind. She slowed for a moment as she tried to decide if she should continue or not when a hand wrapped around her arm violently, causing her to wrench around in the other direction.
“What in the hell—” she began, expecting Rory to be behind her and wondering at his rough treatment, but the man was dressed in a black uniform, buttons placed tightly together in a column up the middle, a hat pulled low on his head, and a glare on his face that was one of some seriousness.
“You, miss, are coming with me.”
“What?” she gasped, looking around wildly as she tried to pull away, but his grip was tight. “Let me go. Rory!” she called. “Rory!”
And then he was there, causing relief unlike anything she had ever felt course through her. He came up behind her, a hand around her back, and she leaned into him, taking the support he offered.
“What’s going on here?” Rory demanded, looking from the officer, who still held her arm, back to her.
“This woman stole a pocket watch,” the officer said, pulling her forward. “She’s coming with me.”
“She bloody well is not,” Rory said, taking the man’s arm in a grip and stepping between them. “She did nothing wrong. We were inside the pub down the street but moments ago.”
“Then why was she running away as though she were guilty?” the officer challenged him.
“I was trying to help!” she exclaimed, standing as tall as she could, her head poking over Rory’s shoulder. “I saw someone in trouble, so I gave chase.”
“Likely story,” the man said sarcastically. “One not particularly believable. Now, you come on with me, and we’ll get this cleared away.” He looked at Rory. “You try to prevent this, and ye’ll be in more trouble than you want to think about. You willna be any help to your pretty lady if you’re in the cell beside her. Now, come, let’s go.”
Peggy and Rory could only look helplessly at one another as she was led away.
Chapter 9
Roderick was going to kill him. Actually, physically, murder him when he learned what had happened.
Rory ran a hand through his hair as he paced back and forth in the front lobby of the police station, while Peggy remained trapped in the cell beyond. She was sitting on the bench, her chin on top of her fists, trying her utmost to inch away from the drunken woman beside her, who was having trouble keeping down the contents of her stomach.
The walls of the station were a somber gray, the room itself fairly small. In the receiving room that he currently occupied, there was but a counter, behind which sat a lone police officer who had hardly looked up when Rory walked into the building. The other officer, the one who had escorted Peggy in, was currently in another room that Rory couldn’t see.
Peggy’s jail cell was a few steps down a slight corridor, but Rory could see her through the one end of the bars if he leaned forward just far enough. She started a bit in surprise when he caught her eye, and he winked at her in an attempt to ease her worries. It seemed it slightly worked as she smiled at him a bit tremulously and her shoulders straightened ever so noticeably.
Rory stopped his pacing when the officer returned to the waiting room.
“Officer, this is all some grave mistake,” he repeated again, pleading with the man. “There is no way that Peggy, that is Miss McDougall—”
“I believe you,” the man finally said with a sigh, waving his hand in the air.
“Ye do?” Rory asked, surprised, words Peggy echoed from her cell.
“I do,” he admitted. “Not only did your girl not have the pocket watch anywhere on her, but we had another witness come forward, and he claims the thief looked nothing like her. Seems there has been some misunderstanding.”
“Misunderstanding?”
Rory narrowed his eyes. He knew what the misunderstanding was. Gowan. He thought he had recognized the man chasing down the “thief,” but before he could determine for certain, Peggy had been off and running and it was all he could do to keep up with her. The man had threatened her, but Rory didn’t think he would actually make good on his threat. And now that he had, setting up so elaborate a scheme in order to have Peggy thrown in jail… well, it wasn’t something Rory was prepared to accept. Not when it came to Peggy — because of how close she was to his family and his business prospects.
Or so he told himself.
But at the moment, he was most concerned with getting Peggy out of this jail cell and back to the hotel before her brother discovered that they had not only failed to return by his imposed curfew, but were, in fact, in a police station.
“What in the hell is going on here?”
Too late. Rory closed his eyes and sighed, accepting his fate as he turned to find Roderick’s angry glare staring back at him.
“Roder
ick,” he greeted him as though it were any other day, hoping to suffuse the man’s anger — but it seemed it only fueled it. “I see ye’ve found us.”
“Found you?” Roderick seethed. “What in the hell is my little sister doing sitting in a jail cell? When I returned to the pub looking for you and the barkeep told me this is where I’d find you, I laughed in his face! What did you do?”
“Nothing! I did absolutely nothing!” Rory defended himself.
“Bullshit,” Roderick muttered, but before Rory could say anything more, he felt a soft hand on his arm, saw its match on Roderick’s.
“That’s enough,” Peggy said softly. “I’m out, all is cleared away, ’tis time for us to go.”
“That’s it?” Roderick said, looking back and forth around the room as if expecting something more.
Peggy looked back at the police officer, who watched them with arms crossed over his navy jacket with its neat, polished buttons.
“An apology would be nice,” she added, but at the man’s glare and swiftly narrowed eyes, she apparently thought otherwise, as she cleared her throat. The next thing Rory knew there was another voice within the room, coming from the door.
“Officer says you can go, you go,” Gwen said, her feet still outside, but her head with its long unbound auburn hair peeking in around the corner. “Come on, we have a hack waiting.”
Peggy wrapped one hand around Roderick’s arm, the other around Rory’s. “She’s right. Let’s go.”
It wasn’t until they were sitting in the hack staring at one another that Gwen looked over at Peggy and grinned. “It’s nice not to be the only one in the family who has spent some time in a jail cell,” she said with a wink. “What did you think?”
“I wouldn’t want to spend any more time than necessary in there,” Peggy said with a bit of a shiver.
“And that was just in a police station,” Gwen said with a pointed look, and Peggy didn’t want to think about what the other options were.
Peggy’s Love: The Victorian Highlanders Book 5 Page 6