The Highlander's Princess Bride

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The Highlander's Princess Bride Page 31

by Vanessa Kelly


  When Fletcher replied, his voice was low and harsh. “You think to escape me just because you are the by-blow of that wastrel? By the time I’m through, everyone in England and Scotland will know who you are and what you’ve done. You might escape the noose, but I will destroy your good name and I will ruin your life. I will not rest until I do.”

  “That’s enough, Fletcher,” Nicholas said, coming around from his desk. “Gilbride, get this idiot out of my house.”

  “I’ll hand him over to your butler, but I’m not leaving you alone with Victoria.”

  “Oh, for God’s sake, Alec,” Victoria said. “Be sensible.” Nicholas would never hurt her—except perhaps demolish her heart, but he’d already done that.

  Alec threw her a skeptical glance.

  “Please,” she said. “The earl and I need to talk.”

  “Very well, but, I’ll be right outside the door.”

  “Do I need to throw you out in the bloody street too, Gilbride?” the earl snapped.

  “All right, I’m going.” Alec stalked over to Fletcher and clapped a hand on his shoulder.

  The man shook it off. “I can see my own way out.” Then he turned a hate-filled gaze on Victoria. “I will see you again, Miss Knight. Very soon.”

  “Do not set foot on my property again unless you have a proper warrant and a constable,” Nicholas said in an arctic tone. “If you do not, I will have you placed under arrest myself.”

  Fletcher’s laugh was disdainful. “Pretty words, my lord, but we shall see.”

  He flung open the door and strode out. Alec followed, pausing to give Nicholas a warning stare. “Remember what I said at dinner about hurting Victoria.”

  The earl’s gaze narrowed to icy slits. “Don’t threaten me, Gilbride.”

  “Alec, please just go,” Victoria said.

  Her cousin gave her an abrupt nod and stalked out, slamming the door behind him.

  “Imbecile,” Nicholas muttered.

  Victoria nervously clasped her hands at her waist. “My lord, I deeply regret—”

  “Christ, Victoria,” he interrupted. “Why didn’t you tell me? Have I not earned your trust a hundred times over?” He stalked back to his desk.

  “Of course you have,” she said miserably. “I was wrong not to tell you. But I was . . .” The words caught in her throat.

  “What?”

  “I was afraid you’d make me leave.”

  He stared at her for a few moments. “So you were just hiding out at Kinglas. Was the rest of what Fletcher said true as well? That you were just using me?”

  She gaped at him. “No! How can you even think that?”

  “Because you killed a man and neglected to tell me?”

  Frustration began to push through her guilt. “I wanted to tell you, Nicholas. But Dominic was insistent that I not.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest. “Ah, yes. Sir Dominic. You can be sure I will be having words with him. He had no business withholding secrets of this magnitude, and asking you to do the same. Do you have any idea how this will affect Kade and the rest of my family?”

  Victoria squeezed her eyes shut. Shock at seeing Fletcher had pushed all those considerations aside, but now guilt swamped her. She’d brought scandal and trouble down on the family she’d come to love, a family that had already suffered too much.

  “Yes, and I’m sorrier than you can ever know,” she said, opening her eyes only to blink back tears.

  “Not sorry enough to be honest.” He sank into his chair, looked grim. “Victoria, I told you every bloody, shameful thing about myself. I opened my damn soul to you. I asked you to marry me, for God’s sake.”

  “It wasn’t my idea to get married,” she blurted out, wounded by his devastatingly accurate words. “You practically forced it on me.”

  He flinched.

  Victoria held up her hands. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. It’s . . . it’s just that I tried to tell you it wouldn’t work, but you wouldn’t listen.”

  “Because you didn’t tell me why.” He rested his forehead on his palm. “Victoria, I already had one wife who lied to me about everything important. I don’t think I can live with that again.”

  It felt like he’d jabbed a rusty blade into her chest, twisting its jagged edges in her heart. Victoria was nothing like his first wife, but if he couldn’t see that . . .

  But you did lie to him.

  She’d known what her lies would mean to him and yet had still been too afraid to tell him the truth. To trust him. Because of that, he would never be able to trust her.

  “No, of course you can’t.” As she walked to the desk, she struggled to pull the ring from her finger. “Thank you for your incredible kindness, my lord. I will never forget it.”

  When she placed the ring on his blotter, his head jerked up. His eyes were filled with so many ghosts she couldn’t bear to look at him.

  Turning quickly, she all but ran for the door. When she glanced over her shoulder, he’d picked up the ring and was frowning at it like he’d never seen it before.

  “Good-bye, my lord.”

  “Victoria, wait—”

  She closed the door and leaned against it, trying to hold back sobs. And she did wait, but no footsteps sounded from inside the library.

  There’s your answer.

  He was done with her. His past, the losses he’d suffered and the kind of man that he was—all those things made it impossible for him to forgive her.

  But Victoria had to admit that under her grief and fear and guilt, she was angry with him too. Why couldn’t he understand?

  She heard a quick footstep on the stairs and pushed away from the door, trying to compose herself.

  “Dearest, I heard what happened,” Edie said as she rushed up to her. “How perfectly awful.”

  Victoria fell into her friend’s hug as she choked out a few strangled sobs. Edie patted her back, making soothing noises. After a minute or so, she pulled away and blotted her wet eyes on the backs of her hands.

  “I’d like to kill that man,” Edie said, looking fierce enough to do so.

  “Which one?” Victoria replied. As jokes went, it was fairly awful.

  Edie glanced at the door. “What did Arnprior say to you? Never mind. Alec said he was being difficult. I’ll go in and set him straight.”

  Victoria shot an arm out to stop her. “Please, don’t. He’s very upset and rightfully so. I . . . I shouldn’t have lied to him.”

  Edie glanced down at Victoria’s bare finger. “Please don’t tell me that he asked for that gorgeous ring back. I’ll have to push him out the window if he did.”

  “No, it was my decision. He would never go back on his promise, but it couldn’t possibly work.” His feelings of pain and betrayal would soon turn to bitterness, and perhaps even hate.

  Edie grimaced. “No one needs to make any decisions tonight. Why don’t you try to get some sleep? We’ll talk it over in the morning.”

  “I’ll be packing in the morning to go back to London.” The sooner she got away from Fletcher and back to Dominic and Chloe, the better.

  “That’s probably not a good idea, pet. Legally, Alec thinks it’s safer for you to remain in Scotland.”

  “Well, I can’t stay here.”

  “Then you stay with us until we sort everything out.” Edie smiled. “As you know, we also have a castle, and it’s very roomy.”

  At the mention of castles, Victoria felt her eyes well up again. But she firmly blinked away the tears and forced a smile. “Thank you. That would be wonderful.”

  “I’m sure it will only be temporary. In a day or two, the earl will come to his senses, and Alec will get everything sorted out with this dreadful Mr. Fletcher. He’s going to send an express letter to Dominic tonight, asking for his advice. We’ll get our lawyers working on it as well.”

  “Thank you. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

  Edie gave her another hug. “You’re family, silly, and we take care o
f one another.”

  Victoria tried not to think of the family she’d just lost. But she had another family—one united both by blood and their odd history, ready to stand by her through the worst. For that, she was profoundly grateful.

  “Alec is waiting for me,” Edie said. “Try to get some sleep and we’ll talk in the morning.” She hurried away to the front hall.

  Victoria went in the opposite direction, toward the servants’ staircase. She couldn’t bear the idea of running into any of the Kendricks, not tonight. Tomorrow she would face Kade, at the very least, and make her good-byes.

  That thought was enough to incinerate what little heart she had left.

  She trudged up the stairs. After locking the door to her bedroom, she sank down on the bed and finally indulged in a thorough cry. But it did nothing to relieve her emotions and only gave her a ripping headache.

  After giving her nose a firm blow, she went down on her hands and knees and pulled her traveling bag out from under the bed. Then she began extracting the garments she’d brought with her from England or ones that Edie had given her. Though she was exhausted, sleep would elude her, so she might as well pack and be ready to leave at first light.

  After organizing her clothes, she sat down at the writing desk to begin composing a letter to Dominic. Unfortunately, persistent tears obscured her vision. When a soft knock sounded on her door, she breathed a sigh of relief and put down the pen.

  “Coming.” While she desperately hoped it was Nicholas, she knew he had too much wounded pride to seek her out.

  She was surprised to see Angus when she opened the door.

  He grimaced. “Aye, ye look blue-deviled, and that’s a fact. Ye and Nick had a fight, I ken.”

  She sighed.

  “Over a Sassenach ye killed, I take it.”

  She narrowed her gaze. “Were you eavesdropping?”

  He shrugged. “Couldna hear everything, but enough.”

  “Then you can understand why his lordship is so upset.”

  “Och, he may be my laird and my grandson, but he’s a daft fool.”

  She stared at him. “Mr. MacDonald, I killed someone.”

  “Aye, but just a Sassenach.”

  “That is not a good enough reason to kill someone,” she said, exasperated.

  When he grinned at her, she couldn’t hold back a disbelieving laugh.

  His smile faded. “Lass, did he deserve it?”

  “Well, I certainly deserved to defend myself.”

  “And the brute would have hurt ye if ye hadna acted so?”

  “Yes, he would have.”

  “Then ye did the right and just thing,” Angus said. “And I’ll be settin’ the laird straight on that first thing in the mornin’.”

  She was touched and rather astonished by his support. Then again, killing an Englishman had obviously raised her standing in his eyes.

  “Thank you, but that won’t be necessary,” she said, forcing a smile.

  “Yer not leavin’ us, lass. The laird needs ye. We all need ye.”

  She blinked, trying not to cry again.

  “Nay, no waterworks,” he said. “Now, have a wee sleep and we’ll sort it out later. I’d speak to Nick tonight, but I dinna have time right now.”

  She frowned. “Why not?”

  He grinned and tapped the side of his nose. “Things to do, lass. Now get ye some rest.”

  Her suspicions during dinner reasserted themselves. “What are you up to, Mr. MacDonald?”

  “Ta,” he said with a wave and a smile. He strode away down the darkened hall, his kilt swirling around his skinny legs. A few seconds later, his rapid footsteps pattered downstairs.

  For a moment, she wavered in the doorway, thinking she should follow him or go tell Nicholas about the old man’s suspicious behavior. But the thought of seeing the earl again, or trying to deal with another problem, simply overwhelmed her.

  Besides, the Kendricks were no longer her business. She had enough problems to worry about—ones that could even find her dangling from the end of a rope.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Victoria opened her bleary eyes. Why was someone knocking on her door in the middle of the night?

  She forced herself upright. More like early morning, since the light of dawn was just starting to filter through the shutters.

  Another tap on the door. “Victoria, please wake up.” That was Braden’s voice.

  She grabbed her wrapper and fumbled for her slippers. When she opened the door, Braden stood there, dressed in a nightshirt over breeches.

  “Nick needs to see you in his study right away,” he said.

  Her stomach clenched. Had Fletcher already got a warrant for her arrest? “Do you know why?”

  He put out a quick, reassuring hand. “It’s got nothing to do with what happened between you and Nick last night.”

  “Angus told you?” she asked, wincing.

  “I don’t know all the details and I don’t need to. But I do know you.” He smiled. “We all trust and respect you, Victoria. Please never doubt that.”

  “Thank you, Braden. That means the world to me.”

  “And Nick will get over it. He’s just upset right now.”

  She sighed. “I can’t blame him for that.”

  “Maybe, but right now he has other problems.” He snorted with disgust. “My stupid brothers.”

  Her conversation with Angus resurfaced. “And their grandfather?”

  “Nick will explain.” He thrust his candle into her hand, then turned and all but ran for the stairs.

  “Don’t trip,” she called out.

  “Hurry up,” he called back.

  She went into her room and stared at her neatly packed bags. There was clearly another Kendrick Family Crisis to be dealt with and, for a moment, she was tempted to crawl back under the bedcovers and pretend the world didn’t exist.

  Really, what did she owe Lord Arnprior and his family at this point?

  Your help.

  They’d all given her a large measure of love and respect, so how could she turn her back on them now? Despite everything, Nicholas obviously still needed her too.

  She snuffed the candle and went to her dressing table to find a nightcap, since she had no intention of going downstairs with wild, unbraided hair.

  After cramming the tangled mess under her cap, she grabbed a shawl on the way to the door. As she hurried downstairs, she tried to calm her racing heartbeat. The prospect of seeing Nicholas again was decidedly unnerving.

  Pausing for breath, she placed her palm flat on the study door and counted to ten before knocking.

  “Enter,” rumbled the earl’s deep voice.

  He was behind his desk, frowning at a note in his hand, while Braden stood nearby, nervously chewing a fingernail.

  Nicholas gave her a swift glance, tracking over her from head to toe. “Thank you for joining us, Victoria.” A faint smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “So quickly.”

  She must look ridiculous in her rumpled ensemble.

  Nicholas was dressed—but for his tailcoat—in last night’s evening kit. Apparently, he’d not gone to bed. She cast a furtive glance at the whisky decanter on the edge of his desk, breathing a tiny sigh of relief to see that it was mostly untouched.

  “Don’t worry, I’m not drunk,” he said dryly. “And you could have gotten dressed. The house isn’t on fire.”

  “Braden gave me cause to understand it was an emergency.”

  The young man grimaced an apology, and continued to chew on his nail. Victoria reached across and gently pulled his hand down. It was startling to see the normally calm and mature Braden so discomposed.

  “It is an emergency,” Nicholas said.

  “How can I help?”

  “Please sit and read this,” he said, handing her the letter.

  She took it from him and sank into the club chair. By the time she’d reached the second paragraph, her brain felt woolly.

  “The twins and Roya
l have eloped,” Braden burst out. “With girls.”

  “Yes, with girls, thank God for small mercies,” Nicholas said. “Given all the jokes about Highlanders and sheep.”

  Victoria should scold him for making such an inappropriate jest, but she was too stunned by what she was reading. In the note, Angus set out his plan to help the brothers abscond with prospective brides. The twins had indeed eloped, with Miss MacBride and Miss Peyton. She was surprised to realize their relationships had grown so serious.

  Her brain stumbled over the next paragraph.

  “Royal eloped with Lady Ainsley?” she asked. “How is that possible? He doesn’t even much like her.”

  “I will be sure to ask him when I run them all to ground,” Nicholas said grimly.

  She squinted down at the letter. “I don’t understand. Why did they have to elope? This is Scotland. All they had to do was find a vicar.”

  “Keep reading,” Braden said.

  After a minute, she gave up trying to decipher the heavily blotted scrawl. “There’s something in here about handfasting and then a kirk up in Kinglas, but I can’t make out the rest.”

  “Angus has convinced them to do things the old-fashioned way,” Nicholas said. “The Highlander way.”

  “Which is?”

  “You seize the girls you want to marry and carry them off, hopefully to the nearest kirk,” Braden said in an unhappy tone.

  Victoria almost fell out of her chair. “Are you saying these girls were taken against their will?”

  “That’s what we need to find out.” Nicholas glanced at the clock. “And I’ve got to get after them as soon as possible. If I take my curricle, I should be able to catch them. With a minimum of six people traveling—”

  “Seven, with Angus,” Braden added.

  “Right, seven people and probably some luggage. I should be able to track them down before long.”

  “Do you know when they left?” Victoria asked.

  “Sometime between one and four o’clock, as far as I can tell,” he replied. “If we can get the girls back to Glasgow before tonight, we may just be able to avoid total disaster.”

  When he pulled his coat from the back of his chair and started to drag it on, Victoria held up a hand to stop him. “Wait. We must think. What will happen if you don’t catch up with them?”

 

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