How to Blackmail a Highlander (The MacGregor Lairds)

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How to Blackmail a Highlander (The MacGregor Lairds) Page 3

by McLean, Michelle


  Then again—with the scene between him and Lady Alice fresh in his mind—a quiet, docile woman might not be such a bad thing. At least he’d turned her down. He’d tell Lady Elizabet that her friend missed her but would soon be wed to a worthy—or esteemed and wealthy, at the very least—gentleman and leave it at that. He’d let the lady’s parents ensure her safety and happiness, as was their place, and wash his hands of the whole business.

  …

  Alice paced her room, swishing aside the curtains to peek outside every time she passed them. Finally, she caught sight of her maid hurrying through the gate of the townhouse. She continued her pacing until the maid knocked rapidly on the door before opening it.

  “Did you follow him?” Alice asked.

  The poor girl hadn’t even caught her breath yet, but she nodded. “Yes, mistress.”

  “And?”

  “Marchley’s Boardinghouse, my lady.”

  “Excellent.”

  She grabbed her cloak from her armoire and marched toward the door.

  “My lady, no! You can’t go there. Especially unaccompanied.”

  “I won’t be unaccompanied. You’re coming with me.”

  She was through the door and down the back stairs before Rose could say another word.

  “Rosie, where have you been all morning?” Mrs. Branson, the housekeeper, called out from the parlor. “Come and give us a hand in here. Her ladyship has several guests coming, and that silly girl Peg is ill again.”

  “Go,” Alice said. “I’ll be fine.”

  “What? My lady, no—”

  But Alice was out the door before Rose could say anything else.

  Her driver was likewise unhappy with her orders but too used to obeying her to question her.

  Her rush of excitement lasted until the carriage pulled to a stop in front of the boardinghouse. Her bravado ebbed with the imminent prospect of marching into such an establishment, on her own, to confront a man. Alone.

  But she was desperate. And she wouldn’t take no for an answer.

  Alice took a deep breath and alighted from the carriage, ignoring her driver’s protests. He might not approve, but she was reasonably sure he would keep her destination to himself. He was one of a handful of servants who felt more pity for her than loyalty to her mother, however afraid they might be to show it. Not that she blamed them. Honestly, she was rather shocked she’d gotten the man to drive her to the boardinghouse. If her mother found out, he’d be in a world of trouble. Another good reason for him to keep his mouth shut, though Alice would be sure to claim the man had no notion of what she was up to.

  She marched into the establishment and straight up the stairs. Her confidence took another hit when she realized she had no idea which room was his. Asking the proprietor would be more brazen than she was ready to be. She’d worn the plainest dress she owned, but even that was too fine to blend in here. She might not care who saw her, but she wasn’t so foolish as to go out of her way to announce her intention to enter the room of a man she wasn’t related to, either.

  She knew she’d been observed leaving the house, which meant she might not have a great deal of time. Alice had no doubt that one of Mother’s spies had rushed off to tattle on her. It hardly mattered now. Mother had already done her worst. Alice’s engagement to Lord Woolsmere would be announced shortly. And Philip was leaving. She didn’t have any time to imagine all the potentially horrible outcomes to her actions. She knew what she wanted to do. And she needed Philip’s help. End of story.

  Alice stared at her choice of doors. Three were open, the rooms empty. Two had noises emanating from them. She didn’t know whether to giggle or run from the building with her hands over her ears. That left the one at the end of the corridor and the one just to her right. No sound came from behind the door nearest her, so she stole as quietly as possible to the end of the corridor. Faint shuffling and rustlings could be heard and, before she could talk herself out of it, she knocked on the door. She gathered her skirts in her hands, prepared to run if anyone other than Philip opened the door.

  The door swung open, revealing Philip’s shocked face. Her face broke into a grin with the relief flooding through her.

  “Let me in before someone sees me,” she said, pushing her way past him.

  He stared, dumbstruck. “Ye shouldna be here.”

  “I know. Bit of a moot point now, don’t you think?”

  He didn’t respond, though his eyes narrowed.

  “You might want to close the door before someone catches sight of me.”

  Philip still hesitated, clearly torn, before finally shutting the door. He paused for a moment, his eyes roaming over her, squinting in confusion. She half expected him to open the door again and toss her out. Instead, he snorted and turned his back, resuming what he’d been doing.

  “Aren’t you going to ask me why I’m here?” she asked, watching him pack his belongings with a precise and meticulous care that would surpass even Mrs. Branson’s impossible standards.

  “Dinna need to ask what I already ken. And it willna do ye any good.”

  “What won’t?”

  “I’m no’ going to help ye run away. Ye’ll simply have to stay and face yer responsibilities like a good lassie.”

  She sucked in a deep breath, trying to keep the rage that had been building in her chest for the last several weeks from boiling over. She needed Philip’s help. Shrieking at him now would be the wrong way of going about getting it.

  “You make me sound like a trained lap dog.”

  Philip shrugged. “If that’s how ye choose to see it.”

  “How else am I supposed to take that statement?”

  Philip sighed and paused in his packing. “A good lass obeys her father. There’s no shame in that. The man has been responsible for yer upkeep and well-being all yer life. And has done a fine job of it, too, from the looks of ye. Respect and obedience are the least ye owe him.”

  “So, because my father has provided for me, I’m supposed to let him dictate the rest of my life? Shackle me to a man who repulses me, who can do with me as he chooses, for the rest of my days? Which may very well be limited, if the rumors prove true?”

  “Aye.” Philip shrugged again. “It’s the way of the world. Of your world, in any case. No sense in feigning surprise now.”

  “How is that fair?”

  At that, he snorted out a laugh. “Whoever told ye life was supposed to be fair? And I’ll tell ye another thing,” he said, adding a pristinely folded shirt to his saddlebag. “Being wed to a wealthy man who will keep ye dripping in silks and baubles is a good sight more than a great many lasses can look forward to.”

  He looked her over again and shook his head. “You were bred to sit in salons and be waited on hand and foot. Ye wouldna last a week without yer palace full of comforts. And ye have a man willing to provide that for ye. Go home.”

  Alice crossed her arms, swallowing past the lump in her throat and the barrage of tears that threatened from her bottled-up emotions. “I realize I am a pampered, spoiled little princess who has never had to lift a finger for myself my whole life. There’s not much I can do about that. But even a woman such as I deserve the chance to live unmolested and unafraid. I am not some weak, simpering little miss who will fall apart at the first sign of difficulty. I’m tired of people assuming I’m too delicate to live as I see fit. I’m going to take my life back. And you’re going to help me.”

  Philip slowly shook his head, his face set in regretful, albeit stubborn, lines. “Ye’re mistaken, my lady.”

  A deadly calm filled her, mingled with a slight streak of guilt that she steadfastly ignored. “Oh no, I’m not. I’m going to leave this place. I’m going to find Elizabet. And you are going to help me. Or I will alert the authorities to your presence in the city. I will betray your identity as a member of the Highland Highwayman’s gang of thieves.”

  Philip stared her down with an expression so full of anger and disdain that it took all her willpo
wer not to flinch. “Do yer worst, my lady,” he said, his voice all the more terrifying for its quietness. “I wasna exiled with John. I was arrested and released. I may not be particularly welcome in London, but I’m no’ breaking any laws being here, either.”

  “Yes, because there was no evidence against you. But I have a letter,” she said, pulling it partially from her bodice before tucking it back in. “From Elizabet, that she sent to me before she left. She refers to you as John MacGregor’s man. Which is all your enemies will need to get you thrown into prison.”

  “Perhaps. Perhaps not,” he said. “It may garner some interest, but it’s scarcely enough to see me hanged.”

  “True,” she said, taking a tremulous breath before she levied the true blackmail against him. “This may not send you to your death. But it will bring attention to you. Attention I assume you are eager to avoid.”

  Philip’s expression turned thunderous, and Alice couldn’t stop herself from taking a step backward this time.

  “And ye call yerself Lady Elizabet’s friend,” he all but spat at her.

  “I am her friend. I love her more dearly than anyone else.”

  “Yet ye’d threaten her safety by betraying me to Ramsay, all for the sake of saving yerself from a marriage most lasses would kill for.”

  “No! I’d never endanger Elizabet.”

  “Oh, aye? And what do ye think will happen if ye tell Ramsay I’m here? If he finds me, he’ll stop at nothing to use me to find John and Elizabet.”

  Alice shook her head, the thought of Fergus Ramsay finding her friend sickening her. Fergus had been humiliated when Elizabet had run from him to be with John. And, according to Elizabet, the broken betrothal had also cost him her dowry estates, which he and Lord Dawsey, Elizabet’s father, had been using as a base for their smuggling operations. While Elizabet had followed John into exile, she’d made certain to send a solicitor with the proper documents necessary to claim her inheritance once she and John had wed—effectively ruining her father’s and Ramsay’s plans for her property.

  To say Ramsay was sore over the issue was an understatement. He wasn’t exactly quiet about the retribution he’d like to exact if he ever got his hands on John again. And by extension, Elizabet. And knowing Ramsay, he’d be only too eager to personally make sure Elizabet suffered.

  Alice would never do anything to hurt Elizabet. Which meant she would never follow through on her threats. But Philip didn’t need to know that. She steeled her spine and raised her chin. She needed him to believe she was strong enough to do what she said. “Once I expose you as a highwayman, you won’t be going anywhere but prison. There will be very little chance of danger to them. Ramsay won’t be able to touch you.”

  “If ye believe that, lass, ye’re more naive than I thought.”

  She straightened her shoulders, strengthening her resolve. She knew her threats were empty. Knew he was right. If there was even the possibility that Ramsay could get to Philip, and through him, to Elizabet and John, she wouldn’t utter a peep. But she didn’t need to actually betray him. He needed only to believe she would. Then they’d both be on their way out of the city, and no one would be the wiser until it was too late.

  “Think of me what you will. I don’t care for your opinion of me, only that you take me with you when you leave. The choice is yours. Take me to Elizabet. Or I betray your presence to the authorities. And anyone else who might wish to know.”

  Philip latched the flap of his saddlebag and dropped it on the floor. Yet still he said nothing. His fists clenched and unclenched by his side, his jaw visibly straining, as if he were trying to restrain himself. From speaking? From throttling her?

  It mattered not. She didn’t enjoy having to resort to blackmail. But if that’s what it took to escape this marriage and the people controlling her, to take her life into her own hands for once, then so be it.

  It took everything she had, but she waited silently while he made up his mind.

  He finally spoke, though each word sounded as if he was forcing it from his throat. “Very well. I’ll take ye to Scotland, but I’ll no’ take ye directly to John and Elizabet. It’s too dangerous.”

  “I don’t care about the danger.”

  “I do,” he said, looming so close she had to take a step or fall over. “And they care a great deal about the danger to them. I care not about what danger ye may get yerself into.”

  Anger spiked through Alice, but she had scant cause for it. She was blackmailing the man, after all. She could hardly expect him to be happy about it.

  “And what do I do once we reach Scotland?” she asked.

  Philip shrugged. “Maybe ye can gain an audience with the Lion and his lady and plead yer case. If they feel like helping ye, so be it. I’ll wash my hands of ye the moment we arrive.”

  Nervousness wormed its way through her, sending a chill through her veins and setting her stomach to twisting. She was really going to do this. Leave her home, her comforts, everything she’d ever known, for a chance to live life on her own terms. Even if to do that, she’d have to trust a man who hated her and had promised to bring her to a castle full of his kin who would probably feel the same way.

  But it was worth it.

  And once she found Elizabet, she’d come up with a solution to her mess of a life. Her own solution—her choices, her decisions. Elizabet would understand. She’d been in the same situation and had done the same thing. Minus the blackmail, she assumed.

  She gave him a decisive nod. “Then we have a bargain.”

  “If ye wish to call it so.”

  She ignored that. “When do we leave?”

  He gathered his saddlebags and threw them over his shoulder. “I am leaving right now.”

  “But…wait, I can’t…”

  “You,” he said, “may leave whenever ye like. We canna be seen leaving the city together. I am bringing my laird and his lady some supplies they’ve requested. I take ship at Dover a week from today to travel up the coast to Scotland. If ye wish me to take ye, meet me there.”

  “How am I supposed to do that?” she asked, frowning.

  “I dinna care. If ye want to go badly enough, ye’ll find a way. But ye better be smart about it. Dinna tell anyone ye’re going. Dinna let anyone see ye or follow ye. And dinna go spreading my name about. Get to Dover, undetected, and get passage on the ship. I’ll meet ye on board. If ye’re not there when the ship sets sail, I’ll assume ye came to yer senses.”

  He threw open the door and marched out, not waiting for a response from her.

  Alice sat on the bed, her legs suddenly trembling. She hadn’t expected to have to make her way anywhere on her own. That had been the whole point in blackmailing him. Although, she did understand his reasoning, even if it threw her plans into turmoil. If she was seen with him, it would be far too easy to both trace her to find Elizabet, and through her, the exiled John. Traveling openly with Philip was therefore out of the question, at least until they were out of London.

  But that left her with the problem of getting to Dover, and onto that ship, alone.

  She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and stood up. This was what she’d wanted. So she needed to be prepared to do what it took. And do it she would.

  She couldn’t wait to see Philip’s face when he boarded the ship in Dover. Because she had every intention of not only making it there but getting there before him. Proving him wrong would be worth any hardship she had to endure.

  Chapter Four

  Philip handed the last box to the waiting sailor on the dock and then turned to William who climbed back into the wagon.

  “That seems to be the last of it,” Philip said, patting the horse’s neck.

  Young Will looked down at him. “Are ye sure ye dinna need anything else for the journey? The Lady Elizabet left quite a few belongings. I’m sure I could get her maid to retrieve a few more things.”

  “Nay. We dinna want to draw too much attention to ourselves. And we’re already
bringing more than they requested. Dinna forget, I’m going to have to find a way to transport all of this once we reach port.”

  Philip glanced around the bustling dock and then back at the young man sitting in the wagon, trying not to let his concern show on his face. He must not have been successful, though, because young William scowled.

  “I’ll be fine, Philip,” he said. “I’m not the same green boy that I once was.”

  “I ken that well enough, lad. If I didna think ye could handle yerself, I’d not send ye back to be our eyes and ears in Ramsay’s ranks. But just because I trust ye doesna mean I’m happy with sending ye to spy on the devil himself.” Philip patted the horse again, keeping his gaze on it rather than on the young man in front of him. Not only to protect William’s sensibilities, but to try to keep his own emotions in check.

  William had been with him for the last several years—riding raids with Philip and John, who was better known as the Highland Highwayman in these parts. But now that John was an outlaw in exile with the Lady Elizabet, the highwayman’s crew had been disbanded. Most of the men had gone on to seek other employment, both legal and not so legal.

  Philip had stayed around for a few months to garner what information he could on Fergus Campbell, or Ramsay, as he liked to call himself now. The man who was responsible for John’s arrest and ultimate exile. William had managed to secure a position with Ramsay. A fact which both pleased and dismayed Philip. Pleased, because they desperately needed to keep an eye on Ramsay’s activities. But dismayed because, while William was strong and loyal, he did tend to take more risks than Philip would like.

  However, his position would afford them much needed information on Ramsay’s plans. He had been quiet lately, but Philip had no doubt he was still after revenge on the MacGregors, who he blamed for his downfall in both his relations with his father and the king. And, thanks to John making off with Ramsay’s intended bride, the failure of his criminal organization, as well.

  While Lady Elizabet had been a willing hostage for her now husband, the story around court was that she had been kidnapped as an act of revenge against her father, the Earl of Dawsey, and Ramsay, who had been her betrothed, as they were the men who had orchestrated John’s supposed downfall. To add insult to injury, Ramsay had also accused John of kidnapping Elizabet as a way to collect dower lands through forced marriage, though that had been the true reason Ramsay himself had wanted to wed her. The real story, that Lady Elizabet had fallen madly in love with John and had not only willingly accompanied him but had shown up uninvited and unannounced in order to force him to take her with him, was not commonly known.

 

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