The Bodyguard

by Joan Johnston

  “I will know him before we’re married.”

  “What if he’s a drunkard? A gambler? A debaucher of women?”

  “No man is perfect.”

  Alex snorted. “I see you are determined to go through with this harebrained scheme.”

  “I am.”

  “Why would you settle for so little?”

  “How do you know ’tis so little? I havna even met the earl. Perhaps he’ll be a paragon, handsome and kind and—”

  His teeth must have been very tightly clenched, because a muscle in his jaw jerked. “There must be some other way.”

  “I havna found it.”

  “You could steal from the duke.”

  “Not for long. Sooner or later I would be caught. Then what? Carlisle offers some hope, at least, that the land would remain available to my people for farming, rather than be given over to sheep, as the other landlords have begun to do. And as the earl’s wife, I would have some influence, I hope, on the rents he charged.”

  “Or maybe not,” Alex said. “In the ordinary course of things, a wife doesna interfere in her husband’s business.”

  “I dinna intend to be an ordinary wife,” Kitt retorted.

  “How do you know he’ll even have you?”

  “I’ll make him want me.”

  “You’ll trick him into believing you love him, perhaps? As you would have tricked the duke?”

  She had the grace to flush. “I am not without some charm,” she said with all the dignity she could muster. “And I do have some consequence. I am a lady.”

  He snorted in disgust. “No lady plays such tricks.”

  “How would you know, Alex? How could you possibly know what a lady does or doesna do? Name the last lady whose company you enjoyed!”

  He opened his mouth to answer but frowned instead. “I …” He sighed and threw the spade on top of the wheelbarrow full of peat, then retrieved his shirt from the handle of the wheelbarrow where he had left it and pulled it on over his head. Kitt turned away when he loosened her father’s belt to tuck in his shirt.

  “I think ’tis folly to marry for such a reason,” he said. “At least promise me you’ll take the earl’s measure before you do anything so stupid as to tempt him to propose marriage.”

  “How dare you—”

  He had her by the shoulders before she could finish her sentence. “I dare because I care what happens to you. I dare because marriage to the wrong person can make your life a living hell!”

  She stared helplessly up at him, wondering if he spoke from experience. But he seemed startled himself at both what he had said and the vehemence with which he had said it.

  “Let me go, Alex,” she said quietly.

  He seemed to realize suddenly how tightly he was holding her. He let her go and took a step back.

  She rubbed her arms where his hands had been. “Your concern is misplaced, Alex. I can take care of myself.”

  “Can you?”

  “Perhaps it would be better if I find another gille-coise.”

  He thrust an agitated hand through his hair. “That willna be necessary. I’ll keep my opinions to myself.”

  “Do I have your promise on it?”

  “Aye.”

  All through that day and the next he had kept his mouth shut, but she had felt his eyes on her. He had been almost sullen this morning when she announced it was time to visit the earl.

  “You canna go wearing that,” he said.

  She looked down at the perfectly appropriate pale green silk morning dress with capped sleeves decorated by a darker green ribbon tied beneath her bosom. “What is wrong with it?”

  “That is obvious to anyone with eyes.” His gaze focused on the square, low-cut neckline, which revealed a great deal of her bosom.

  “ ’Tis the fashion,” she said, nevertheless feeling the blush rise on her cheeks.

  “ ’Tis more like presenting wares for sale.”

  “Would you have me drape myself in sackcloth? My purpose is to attract the earl’s attention.”

  “That gown should do it. In fact, it will fairly make his mouth water.”

  “Good,” she said, refusing to be disconcerted by his statement—or the avid look in his eyes that had accompanied it. “Then I will have accomplished my purpose.” As she pulled on her gloves, she felt him lay her shawl across her shoulders, effectively hiding what had previously been revealed.

  “Lest you catch a chill,” he said.

  Kitt snorted and let the shawl fall away as she turned to examine Alex’s appearance. “I must say you will be a credit to me.”

  He was wearing the only formal garb her father had owned—a Highland costume that consisted of a doublet of forest-green velvet with lozenge-shaped buttons worn over a white waistcoat and shirt, a plaid kilt, tartan hose with scarlet garters, and buckled black shoes. His accessories included a goatskin sporran, her father’s dirk, a long shoulder plaid, and a matching bonnet with the MacKinnon clan badge.

  “I feel like an imposter,” he said, rearranging the sporran.

  Kitt crossed to Alex and adjusted the plaid at his shoulder. “I dinna think my father would begrudge you the use of his things, Alex. ’Tis all part of the image I am presenting to the earl.”

  “What image is that?” Alex said, raising a dark brow. “Rare bird, ripe for the plucking?”

  Kitt laughed. “I certainly have the plumage for it,” she said, whirling in a circle for him. “What do you think, Alex? Will I do for an earl’s wife?”

  “The better question is, will he make a good husband?”

  “You promised, Alex,” she said with a warning look. “Not another word about the earl.”

  Alex rode the edge of his promise. He did not speak critically of the earl, but he lambasted the condition of Carlisle’s property. Of course, Kitt was forced to admit as they stepped up to the front door of Carlisle Castle, it was in wretched condition.

  “The earl needs a gardener,” Alex whispered as he knocked on the weathered wooden door.

  As the butler opened the door, it fell off its hinges.

  “And a carpenter,” he muttered.

  Kitt glared Alex into silence and said, “Lady Katherine MacKinnon to see the earl.”

  “This way, milady,” the butler said, gesturing her inside.

  The butler fitted the door back onto the hinge before closing it, then led them down a dark, narrow hallway to an equally dark room. Not dark so much as dreary, Kitt realized. Dust covered everything, even the windowpanes, and cobwebs had claimed the corners.

  The Earl of Carlisle crossed from where he was standing near the fireplace—the one bright spot in the room—to greet her, a warm smile on his face.

  Kitt was struck dumb by her first sight of him. Why, he’s handsome! No, not just handsome. Striking. Chiseled cheekbones, dark, wide-spaced eyes, and a strong nose and chin gave him a face with more character than beauty. His form was as favored as his features. Perhaps it was not going to be such a sacrifice to marry the earl, after all.

  He was also charming enough to put her at ease. “I have been meaning for some time to invite you here to congratulate you on being named The MacKinnon, but I have been much occupied with estate matters since my brother’s death. Welcome to my home, Lady Katherine.”

  Kitt curtsied as the earl bowed. “Thank you, my lord. May I introduce my bodyguard, Alex Wheaton.”

  Kitt saw the astonishment on the earl’s face, turned to discover what had put it there, and saw what the earl must have seen—the power, the grace of movement, the absolute authority in Alex’s bearing. And, of course, the antagonism on his face.

  “Carlisle,” Alex said.

  Kitt groaned inwardly at the breach of etiquette. The earl, having the greater consequence, should have spoken first.

  She was grateful when the earl took no notice of the insult, but merely nodded and said, “Good day, sir.”

  Alex gave a cursory, condescending nod in return. As though he were the one with
the title and not the earl, Kitt thought with another inward groan.

  As the earl escorted her farther into the drawing room, she took a surreptitious look at the magnificent gilt furniture and plush velvet drapes. An immense carpet that almost reached the edges of the vast room must have come home with some knight from the Crusades.

  Further study revealed the room’s contents suffered from the same neglect as the outside of the castle. The seat covers had worn thin and the velvet was faded and the carpet was patched in several places.

  From all appearances, the earl was rolled up. Which explained the offer of credit in the contract to purchase Blackthorne Hall they had seen on Mr. Ambleside’s desk.

  “Please make yourself comfortable,” Carlisle said, gesturing her toward an elegant Grecian couch covered in faded red velvet. “And you, too, sir,” he added in a brusque voice.

  “I will stand,” she heard Alex reply. He crossed with her to the couch and stood behind her, vibrating with hostility.

  Kitt had anticipated Alex’s enmity toward the earl, but she was surprised to see it returned. It was plain the two men disliked each other on sight, but she didn’t want Alex aggravating the situation. She would have a word with him later about courtesy to his betters.

  Fortunately, Clay Bannister, Earl of Carlisle, did not seem the least intimidated by Alex’s bristling posture. He asked a footman to have tea brought to the drawing room and then sat down right beside her on the sofa.

  “I did not realize you had a bodyguard,” Carlisle said, his glance flicking over her shoulder to Alex.

  “I hired Alex only recently,” she replied, purposefully not glancing at the man towering over her. Looking at Alex garbed in her father’s Highland dress did strange things to her insides.

  Not that the Earl of Carlisle’s attire did not catch her eye. In fact, she had never seen a more fashionably dressed man. The exquisitely tailored russet jacket conformed to Carlisle’s shoulders and tapered to his slim waist, and his buff trousers hugged his flat stomach and muscular thighs like a second skin. His black hair was cut to fall rakishly over his forehead, and his high starched collar and intricately tied neck cloth framed a face with strong, angular features that were admittedly attractive.

  Kitt flushed when she realized he had caught her staring. “Pardon me, my lord.”

  “Look your fill,” he said. “So long as I am allowed equal time to indulge in the same pastime.” He smiled engagingly as his eyes dipped to her daring décolletage.

  Alex growled like a dog whose bone was being threatened.

  Kitt shot him a warning look, then smiled back at the earl. “I’m sure you didna invite me here just to look at me.”

  “What if I had?”

  Kitt stared at him, momentarily disconcerted. Ever since the invitation to visit the earl had come, she had wondered if there was some hidden reason why he wanted to see her. It had seemed odd that he would have waited so long if his invitation was simply what he had said when he greeted her: a welcome to the new Chief of Clan MacKinnon. It now seemed it was something more than that. She was afraid to believe in her good fortune.

  “I dinna understand your meaning, my lord,” she said.

  “I think you do,” Carlisle replied, his dark eyes focused intently on her.

  The look was sensual enough to make her nervous. Maybe this was all going to be much easier than she had dared to hope. “I prefer plain speaking,” Kitt said. “What is it you want, my lord?”

  “Very well. Plain speaking it is. I would like to court you, Lady Katherine.”

  Kitt smothered a startled gasp with her fingertips.

  Alex grabbed her shoulder so tightly she thought he would crush her bones.

  “Alex, you’re hurting me,” she said quietly.

  Carlisle frowned at Alex and said, “I begin to think you may need protection from your bodyguard.”

  “Not at all. He … I …”

  “I had not thought Mishnish a dangerous place, Lady Katherine,” Carlisle said, eyeing Alex. “Why do you need a bodyguard?”

  “ ’Twill seem silly when I explain,” Kitt said, discomfited more than she had thought by the charming smile Carlisle aimed at her.

  “Nothing you say could be silly to me,” the earl said with a warmth in his voice that she found alluring and which brought another warning growl from the man standing behind her. She dared a glance at Alex and saw his lips had thinned to a straight, disapproving line.

  She felt a stab of annoyance. It was not Alex Wheaton’s place to judge her actions. And she would lop off his head with her grandfather’s claymore if he ruined things for her with Carlisle.

  “The truth is,” she explained to the earl, “I have been seeking a man to marry, someone who can become The MacKinnon in my place. A few of my clansmen have become a bit anxious to claim the role. I hired a bodyguard to make sure the choice of husband remains mine.”

  “And will my attentions be welcome, Lady Katherine?”

  He started to reach for her hand but paused when Alex shifted a step closer and made a menacing sound deep in his throat. The earl shot Alex a threatening look in return, but Kitt noticed the earl’s hand returned to his own side of the couch.

  Her clan would hate her marriage to an Englishman. They would be furious to see themselves lorded over by the enemy. But choices had to be made. Better to have an English overlord here, than be forced to emigrate somewhere else.

  Kitt was willing to make the ultimate sacrifice of herself, and her own desires, for the good of her clan. It was what she had promised her father on his deathbed. Perhaps this very young nobleman—he was three years younger than she—might be molded to suit her needs very well indeed.

  “I am willing to be courted,” she said at last.

  “Wonderful!” the earl replied with a boyish smile that made him look even younger than his two and twenty years.

  Kitt shot a quick, silencing look over her shoulder at Alex, who had shifted behind her. It allowed her to see how little he thought of the earl and his suit.

  “Would you like to take a walk with me?” the earl said.

  “That would be lovely,” Kitt replied.

  The earl reached for her gloved hand to help her to her feet, then slipped her arm through his. “We can go out through the French doors onto the balcony and then walk down into the garden.”

  She glanced over her shoulder and mouthed the words, “Behave yourself!” to Alex as the earl led her outside into the sunshine.

  He glowered back.

  “The sky is beautiful today,” the earl said, as they walked down the steps into the garden. “So blue. Not a cloud in sight.”

  It quickly became apparent that the sky was the only beautiful thing they would see. The rose garden was choked with weeds.

  “I have plans to return all of this to its former glory,” the earl explained. “But I will need a wife to help me renovate the house,” he added with a twinkle in his eye.

  Kitt flushed at the blatant insinuation that she might, if she wished, become that wife. “Castle Carlisle possessed great majesty once upon a time, my lord. I’m sure it will again.”

  She saw pain flicker briefly in his eyes before he said, “Thank you, Lady Katherine. I try to believe that. I have to believe that, or I think I would go mad.”

  She was surprised to feel sympathy for him, for what he had lost when his elder brother had sold everything to pay his gambling IOUs. She looked into Carlisle’s dark brown eyes and said, “I think Castle Carlisle will become whatever you make of it, my lord.”

  They had reached the steps that led over the rock wall that surrounded the garden to the pasture beyond. He eyed the crumbling steps and said, “Shall we walk farther? I could lift you over the top.”

  “Why not?” Kitt said.

  She was anticipating the earl’s hands on her waist when she felt two strong hands grasp her waist from behind. From over her shoulder she heard Alex tell the earl, “ ’Tis my responsibility to ensure
my lady’s safety.”

  “Are you suggesting I would drop her?” the earl said, incensed.

  Alex lifted her up and over the stone wall, then vaulted it himself, leaving the earl on the other side. “Why take the risk?”

  Kitt saw the earl was furious at being outmaneuvered by Alex, but what could he do? She was already over the fence. The damage was done.

  Carlisle vaulted the stone fence—she noticed he accomplished the feat as easily as Alex had—and, staring Alex in the eye, took her gloved hand and once more laid it on his arm. “Shall we walk some more, Lady Katherine?”

  Kitt felt immensely encouraged by the earl’s clear-headed behavior. Not many men—especially young men—would have acted so rationally in the face of such provocation. She smiled at him and was rewarded with a smile in return. She shrugged Alex’s warning hand off her shoulder and said, “I would love to see more, my lord. What is over that hill?”

  Carlisle grinned at her. “Honestly? A bit of heather and a great deal more thistle.”

  She laughed. “I love them both.” Because they both were Scotland—its beauty and its pain. “Let’s go look.”

  “My lady—” Alex said.

  “You needn’t come with us, Alex,” Kitt interrupted. “We willna be going far.”

  “ ’Tis my job to guard your back, my lady. ’Tis necessary I stay close enough to do so.”

  Carlisle made a sound of disgust. “I’m hardly going to harm the lady. I plan to make her my wife.”

  “She’s not your wife yet,” Alex said in a formidable voice. “Until she is, ’tis my duty to be sure she remains safe in your company.”

  Carlisle bristled, but once again forbore to make a scene. “Very well. If you must play watchdog, come along.” He turned to Kitt and said, “It must be bothersome having such an annoying puppy on your heels all the time.”

  Kitt laughed and glanced over her shoulder at Alex. “Sometimes he’s fun to play with. And he’s very good at fetching.”

  Alex growled, and she felt the earl’s arm tense under her hand.

  “Just so long as you can keep him from biting, I’ll be happy,” Carlisle said. He stopped abruptly and reached down to pick a delicate pink primrose. He held it out to her and said, “For you, my lady.”