How to Blackmail a Highlander (The MacGregor Lairds)

by McLean, Michelle

  She smiled sweetly at the vicar, putting her eyelashes to good use. He may be a man of the cloth, but Alice had found little difference between clergymen and any other male when it came to the fairer sex.

  “Is everything all right?” the vicar asked. “I thought I heard raised voices.”

  “There is no issue here,” she said. “Simply a minor misunderstanding with my brother.”

  “I see. Is there anything I may do to help?”

  Philip drew himself up to his considerable height, dwarfing the man beside him.

  “No, thank ye, Reverend,” Philip said, his tone both warning and menacing. “The…my…sister will be disembarking shortly.”

  The vicar frowned. “I don’t see how that is possible, sir. We have long since passed the shore and, with the wind in our sails and the current with us, I do not think it possible for the captain to return, even if he were so inclined.”

  Alice grinned in triumph, and Philip glared at her.

  “Are you sure everything is all right?” the vicar asked again.

  “Of course,” Alice said. “My brother is put out that my belongings are taking up so much space.” She pointed to the large trunk sitting near the bunk.

  “Ah, I see,” he said, with an indulgent smile. “I suppose ladies are wont to travel heavily, aren’t they? Well, perhaps other accommodations may be found for the lady?” he asked, glancing at Philip.

  “There are no other accommodations to be had,” Alice said. “But no worries. We will make do with the space provided. Hopefully, the weather will hold and the journey will be quick. And then my brother can deposit me at my destination and be quit of me.” She infused her words with as much good-natured humor as she could muster, and even threw in a wink for the vicar, who chuckled and waved goodbye as he turned back up the corridor. But she’d meant every word.

  “Now ye’ve done it,” Philip all but growled at her. He shut the door and marched back to her. “Ye’ve stuck us with each other for the duration of the journey and lied to a man of God on top of it.”

  Alice glanced at him, eyebrow raised. “Does a lie to a clergyman matter so much more than any other lie?”

  “Aye, a lie to a man of God might carry a bit more weight.”

  “Well, that seems unfair. A lie is a lie, I say.”

  “Aye! Aye, I say it too. Ye shouldna ha’ lied. At all. To anyone.”

  She waved away his concern. “It was but a small untruth.”

  “Small?”

  “We’re traveling together, staying in the same quarters, journeying to the same destination. The only untruth is our blood relation. A small thing if you consider that the rest of what we told him was true.”

  That vein in his forehead throbbed again and, if he kept grinding his teeth every time they spoke, he wouldn’t have any left by the time they reached Scotland. She bit her lip to keep from smiling. She did tend to have that effect on people. Especially people who were trying to get her to do something she didn’t want to do. Stubborn, Elizabet used to call it.

  “And why did ye speak with an accent?” he finally managed to grind out. “A horrible one, at that.”

  “It wasn’t so bad. Besides,” she shrugged, “I’m supposed to be your sister. It would be odd if we didn’t sound alike.”

  He released a long-suffering sigh. “Ye could have said ye were my half sister, or that I’d been fostered abroad, or any number of other lies that would have explained your lack of accent. Or, ye could have said nothing.”

  She opened her mouth to argue but then closed it again with a little laugh. “I suppose it’s something I would have questioned, so I assumed others would as well.”

  “Aye, well most people are too polite to question strangers about their manner of speech, even if they find it odd.”

  Her mouth did drop open at that. “Are you saying I’m rude?”

  “I’ve called ye a great many things since we met and this is the one ye take offense to?”

  “Absolutely. I try never to be rude.”

  Philip closed his eyes and rubbed his hand over his face. He took a deep, fortifying breath before opening his eyes to look at her again. Her father often did the same thing during their conversations. Alice wondered if he’d like to know that he wasn’t the only one whose patience she tested. Thinking of her father gave her a small pang of homesickness. He’d been a good father to her, aside from the small matter of trying to wed her to a man who would likely kill her when she couldn’t bear his heir. Though, even there, she knew her father had her best interests in mind. Or at least he thought he did. He’d found a man with wealth and social stature, a man who, on paper, was an ideal match. In her father’s mind at least, since he put no stock in what he called idle gossip.

  But her father wasn’t the one who’d have to lie in bed enduring the man’s clammy-handed touch. Or who’d have to sleep next to a man who might murder her before morning. He wouldn’t spend his life always looking over his shoulder, being afraid to eat or drink anything put in front of him. The earl had already buried several wives. Their manner of deaths might be in dispute, but their demises weren’t. Being the next in line was enough to frighten anyone. So, good intentions or not, she’d done what she’d had to do.

  “Listen,” she said, but Philip raised a finger to stop her. She folded her arms and tried again. “I was simply—”

  He raised his finger again and then pointed at her as if he’d berate her like a scolding nursemaid. He looked like he was going to speak several times. Then he shook his head, clapped his hat on, and strode to the door. She made to follow, but he turned on her before she could.

  “If we’re to be stuck together in this box for the duration of the journey, shove that trunk somewhere out of the way so we can walk about without tripping. Ye’ll sleep on the top bunk,” he said, jabbing a finger in that direction, “and ye’ll keep yerself suitably covered at all times.”

  She folded her arms again. “Anything else?”

  “Aye, stay put. I dinna want ye wandering about getting up to God knows what.”

  He turned on his heel and left.

  Alice watched, pleased, as he stalked down the corridor. He seemed to have accepted their travel arrangements. But if he thought he could order her about, he needed to think again. Her real relatives had been trying to get her to obey for years. She hadn’t escaped their tyranny to follow someone else’s orders. Her life was hers now.

  Poor Philip didn’t know what he was in for.

  …

  He stayed away for as long as he deemed safe. As much as he wanted to put some distance between him and his persistent travel companion, he didn’t want to leave her to her own devices too long. No good could come of that.

  When he returned to the cabin, he was pleased to see her trunk was no longer in the middle of the floor. Until he saw where she’d moved it.

  “Ye canna put yer things there,” he said, pointing to his former bunk that was now occupied by two travel bags, the contents of one trunk, and a very bored Alice.

  She held up a finger, her lips moving silently as she stared at a spot beyond his head.

  He crossed his arms and waited for her to acknowledge him.

  She squinted slightly and then sat back with a sigh. “Three hundred and twenty-eight.”

  He raised an eyebrow.

  “There are three hundred and twenty-eight dark spots in the wood of that wall,” she said, pointing to it. “Two hundred and eighteen on that one,” she said, pointing to the one that held the single, small window. “I haven’t checked this one yet,” she said, gesturing to the wall next to the bunk. “But the light isn’t very good, so I’ll probably miss some.”

  “As long as it keeps ye busy,” he said, not joking, despite his dry tone. She could count all the wood spots she wanted as long as she stayed out of trouble.

  She glanced at him, her eyes narrowing slightly. He’d have thought she was glaring except the glazed look in her eye suggested she still wasn’t focu
sed on him. Perhaps she’d gone partially blind from sheer boredom.

  He turned his attention back to the bigger problem at hand. “Why the devil did ye cover my bunk with yer belongings?”

  She shrugged. “It was too heavy to push beneath the bunk with everything in it, and you did tell me to get it out of the way so we could move about.” She spread her hands out. “There is no longer anything on the floor to hamper our movements.”

  He blew a breath out through his nose in an effort to both stem his growing aggravation and squash the hint of amusement that threatened to erupt. God, she was a cheeky thing.

  “And where do ye propose I sleep?”

  She blinked innocently at him. “I wouldn’t presume to make such a choice for you. However, the floor is now free and clear as instructed. Perhaps you could sleep there.”

  He narrowed his eyes at her. This would be the longest three-day voyage he’d ever had the displeasure of enduring.

  Instead of giving her the courtesy of a response, he grabbed the trunk and her bags and stacked them against the far wall. Making her do it would have brought him considerably more satisfaction, but he didn’t have the time or patience. He’d have to learn to pick his battles.

  He grabbed an armload of dresses and underthings that were strewn on the bunk but couldn’t bring himself to toss them in the trunk. Instead, he shook out each item before carefully folding them and putting them away. He didn’t realize he’d settled into the soothing rhythm that he often sank into when performing such tasks until she spoke.

  “What are you doing?”

  He straightened. “Putting yer things away.”

  “But why?”

  He frowned at that. “Because they were everywhere and ye didna seem inclined to do it.”

  Her forehead crinkled in confusion. “Yes, but…”

  “I prefer my surroundings to be in order. Making ye clean up after yerself would ha’ taken more energy than I’ve got at the moment.”

  She grimaced at that but begrudgingly thanked him with a quick glance in the trunk. “You do good work. Perhaps you could replace my maid, since I had to leave her behind.”

  He snorted and ignored that suggestion. “I’m afraid there’s no’ much in the way of entertainment on board. I ken what a hardship that will be for ye. I’d be happy to inform the captain that ye’ll be disembarking at the next port, if ye feel it will be too great to endure.”

  She glared at him again, and he gave her his sweetest smile, which, he saw with a twinge of pleasure, flustered her. If she was determined to drive him mad with her flirtatious ways, he’d return the favor by being as obtuse as possible. And as a bonus, their squabbling would cement their pretense of being siblings. Most siblings he knew spent half their lives at each other’s throats. He supposed he should be grateful she hadn’t said they were married. Frankly, if they had to spend their lives together, one of them would probably be dead by the other’s hand long before old age took them. It’d be a miracle if they made it off the boat in one piece.

  “I shall endure the boredom as I must,” she said. “It is a small price to pay to be safe from that murderous lecher Woolsmere and be reunited with my dear friend.”

  He shrugged. “Should ye change yer mind, I’ll be happy to accommodate a request to return ye to yer home.”

  “Duly noted.” She stood and smoothed down her skirts. “Well, then. If there is nothing else to keep us occupied in this tiny, dank chamber,” she said with a pointed look at him, “then I suppose I shall wander above deck for a while.”

  She tried to push past him into the hallway, but he stopped her, swearing under his breath when she tried to pull away. “Ye canna go traipsing about on deck unaccompanied.”

  “I don’t see why not,” she said. “I traipsed onto the deck unaccompanied when I arrived and made it through sound enough.”

  “Because,” he said, willing himself to be patient. “A ship full of sailors isna the safest of places for a bonnie lassie to be alone.”

  She turned to him with a brilliant smile that warmed him down to his toes. “You think I’m bonnie?”

  She laughed when he scowled, which made him glower more. “Aye, ye’re bonnie enough. But daft, reckless, and far too accustomed to getting yer own way.”

  “The last one, I’ll give you, but what you call reckless, I call adventurous. And the daft remark I won’t dignify with a response.”

  He chuckled, enjoying her company, despite himself.

  “You can’t keep me locked up in here,” she said.

  “I most certainly can. As yer supposed kinsmen, I can do whatever I choose with ye and none would tell me otherwise. But I’m no’ so cruel as all that. Most of the time.”

  She arched an eyebrow at him, and his lips twitched into a reluctant smile. “I will take ye for air on the deck when I deem it safe and reasonable.”

  She dropped onto the bunk with a huff. “Safe and reasonable? You’re worse than my father.”

  He gave her a wide grin at that remark. “Aye. And I care a great deal less for yer happiness than he, I’d wager. So as I said, the moment ye wish to return to yer obviously better suited circumstances, ye have only to ask.”

  He gave her a gallant bow and then pulled the door open. “I have a few more things to see to on deck. Ye’ll stay put.”

  “But you just returned!”

  “Aye. I thought it might be a good idea to make sure ye’d stayed where I left ye, since ye seem to have a habit of sneaking off.”

  She stood, arms crossed and dander up. “That is completely unfair. If you’re going up on deck, there is no reason I shouldn’t be able to go as well.”

  “Of course there is. I dinna wish to take ye.”

  He closed the door on her thunderous face with a chuckle that turned to a full-blown laugh when something solid hit the door behind him. He had no wish to have her along for the journey, but he couldn’t deny she made it more interesting.

  Philip lasted a mere seven minutes on deck before he sighed and turned back around to fetch her. She was right. He couldn’t keep her locked up the whole time. Well, he could. But he’d never been unnecessarily cruel to anyone, and he probably shouldn’t start with a lady. The weather was turning foul, but a few moments on deck should be fine if they stayed close to the entrance to the lower decks, in case they needed to get below quickly.

  He opened the door to their cabin and slammed it shut again with a curse. The damned, blasted woman was nowhere to be seen. She must have left nearly the moment he had…and gone the other way, as he certainly hadn’t seen her on his end.

  He spun on his heel and hurried back on deck. The wind was already howling harder than a few moments ago, and he fought down the unease that settled like lead in his belly. He may have been purposely irking her before, but there was truth behind his words. She was safer below. Why couldn’t she do as she was told?

  The wind whipped his hair across his cheek, and he shoved it aside, his eyes scanning the deck. He expected her to be making her way back to the cabin. No sane woman would wish to stand about in such wind with rain on the horizon. Then again, nothing she did pointed much in the favor of sanity.

  The crew scurried about, securing cargo and preparing for the coming storm. This late in the season, it probably wouldn’t be too bad. But it didn’t take much for circumstances to change. Most of the crew he asked hadn’t seen Alice, but one man finally pointed him in the right direction.

  He found her toward the bow of the ship, her eyes closed and her face upturned. The bolt of fear that spiked through him at seeing her, hair and skirts billowing out, standing against the backdrop of the foreboding sea, made his words much harsher than he intended.

  “What are ye doing, ye daft woman? Ye’ll blow overboard!”

  “Doubtful,” she said, taking a deep breath and then releasing it with a smile. “It’s not so bad as all that. I needed some fresh air. And, since you refused to provide it…” She shrugged and turned her face into the w
ind again, sucking in another lungful. “Invigorating, isn’t it?”

  “Oh, aye. Until an extra strong gust whips ye right o’er the edge.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You worry too much. I would have gone below within good time.”

  “And when would that be? After ye’d been tossed into the deep? I’m no’ following ye down there, just so ye ken.”

  She sighed and turned to head back to the other side of the ship. “It really isn’t necessary to be such a miserable spoilsport, you know.”

  It probably wasn’t. But watching her eyes flash when she was annoyed was something he found much more enjoyable than he should. However, now they had a genuine safety concern to deal with. And her refusal to understand the risks infuriated him.

  Thunder cracked and the sky split, dropping heavy, fat drops on their heads. Alice gasped and flung her hands over her head in a futile attempt to keep herself dry.

  He grabbed her arm and drew her to his side, trying to shield her with his bulk. The silly woman wasn’t even wearing a cloak and, as he was in breeches rather than his much more useful kilt, both of them were soaked within seconds.

  His sigh came out as more of a growl, and she looked up at him, eyes narrowed. “I havena made any secret of the fact that I’m no’ happy with our situation, but no matter how we arrived at it, I agreed to take ye to Scotland, and I’ll keep my word. Which places ye under my protection. I’m honor bound to ensure no harm comes to ye.” At least until he could find a way to send her back to her family where she belonged, though he didn’t think it prudent to share that with her.

  “That includes making sure ye dinna drown because you’re trying to prove yer independence. Aye?”

  “Aye,” she snapped back, trying to put as much space as possible between them while still staying in the shelter of his arms. “You’ve made yourself very clear.”

  “Good!”

  The ship lurched beneath the strengthening waves, and she was thrown against him. She gasped and held tight. He held on to her much longer than was necessary to steady her. And he kept hold of her arm even then, though he glared down at her. He truly was being a surly bastard. But she unsettled him. Had turned his life upside down. He couldn’t forgive that easily.