The Highlander and the Wallflower

by Michelle Willingham

  ‘The truth was, Ailsa was much more like Dalton than she wanted to admit. She was every bit as wild as he was. Sometimes she behaved like a lady, and she certainly knew all the etiquette and deportment—enough to marry an English earl. But she and Dalton were too alike. Both headstrong and stubborn.’

  ‘After Brandon died, what happened to Dalton?’

  ‘He tried to fill his brother’s shoes. Tried to be the good son. But his parents grieved so hard, they couldn’t bear to see him. He had to teach himself what he needed to know. And I was here, so I wasn’t able to help him. I didn’t know how bad it was until he told me, years later.’

  She kept her arm in his, noticing how his physical strength seemed to improve as they spoke. His mood was lifting, and she was glad to help him.

  ‘I am in need of your help, Lord Cairnross. Unfortunately, my husband and I had a...a disagreement, and I want to know how to win him back. I hurt his pride, and I don’t know how to gain his forgiveness.’

  The earl seemed to think it over. ‘Dalton is a proud one, aye. But he admires strength of will. Tell him you’re sorry and spend the night in his bed, and all will be well, lass.’

  Her cheeks burned at his frank admission, but she supposed there was something to be said for actions speaking louder than words. ‘If he comes home, I will do that indeed.’

  ‘If he comes home,’ the earl scoffed. ‘Ha. Go and fetch him yourself, lass.’

  Regina smiled and bid him farewell. Her spirits were already lifted after visiting with Lord Cairnross, and as she walked with the dog, she spied a coach drawing near to the house. Was it Dalton and her father?

  She hurried closer, clutching at her skirts as she approached. But instead of stopping near the doors, the coach continued towards her.

  Arthur began barking and straining at the lead, but she held him back, suddenly suspicious.

  When the coach drew to a stop, the driver called out, ‘Lady Regina?’

  ‘Lady Camford,’ she corrected, even though it wasn’t true.

  At that, the door to the coach swung open, and a stocky man stepped out. ‘Your husband bid me to come and bring you to him.’

  Regina took a step backwards. No, he did not, were the words that came to her lips. Instead, she replied, ‘Why?’

  At her question, the man appeared irritated. ‘If a husband bids his wife to come, she should not be asking why.’

  ‘If a strange man bids me to get into a coach, I have every reason to be asking why.’ She took several steps back. Arthur barked furiously at the man, and she dropped the lead, turning to run.

  ‘Lord Cairnross!’ she called out, though he was already inside. ‘Help me!’

  Strong arms seized her waist, and she fought with all her strength, elbowing the man as she twisted and turned. It was like her nightmare all over again. Regina screamed, but the two men subdued her, shoving a handkerchief in her mouth and throwing her into the coach. The other man got inside with her and closed the door. Within moments, she felt the horses start trotting, and she fell forward, barely catching her balance. She reached for the door handle, but her assailant grabbed her wrist and twisted it until she cried out in pain.

  No one could hear from the gag in her mouth. God help her, not again. Not this.

  * * *

  As the coach pulled away, Elliott MacLachor, Earl of Cairnross, held out his spyglass and stared at it. ‘Bloody pirates. They’ve stolen the princess.’ He strode inside the house and said to his housekeeper, ‘Mrs Howard. A coach came and took Lady Camford away. Will you help me rescue her?’

  Mrs Howard gripped her broomstick, her mouth open. ‘My lord, is this one of your imaginings?’

  Elliott opened the door and pointed outside. ‘See for yourself. I willna be letting savages take our princess. Fetch my pistols.’

  She hurried outside and saw the puppy barking, its leather lead trailing behind as he raced to follow the coach. ‘Oh, dear God. What’s happened?’

  ‘They took her,’ Elliott repeated. ‘We have to stop them.’

  A dawning realisation broke over the woman, and she shouted for one of the younger lads. ‘Hamish! Quickly, tell MacLachor that Her Ladyship has been taken.’ She wrung her hands in panic. ‘What can we do? His Lordship is gone and so is her father. There’s no one left.’

  ‘No one but us,’ Elliott said. ‘We will have to help her.’

  The housekeeper stared at him, shock in her eyes. ‘I canna go with you, my lord. I’m too old.’

  Elliott took her hands. ‘So am I. But she needs us, Mrs Howard.’

  Her frail palms were trembling, but she gave a nod. She took a deep breath and steeled herself. ‘I’ll get the pistols. You get a coach and horses.’

  Before he knew what to make of that, she added, ‘Don’t be letting them out of your sight, my lord. We’ll follow them and bring her home. I can promise you that.’

  * * *

  Over the past few days, despite Dalton’s attempts to intercept the coach with Mr Sidney and Lord Havershire, he had been unable to catch up to them. It seemed that the men had not taken the main roads, and by the time he’d realised this, it was too late.

  But he knew where they were going. And so, he’d decided to travel as fast as he could, switching horses often, in order to reach London first. He needed to understand what had happened and how severe the threat was against Regina’s family.

  If there was little danger, he would do what he could to help. But he worried that he might have no legal rights. Since she had refused to call him her husband, he was bound by her father’s wishes. It infuriated him, being so helpless. But he had sworn to himself that he would do everything in his power to save her from harm. Even if that meant lowering his pride.

  He ordered his coachman to drive him to his father’s house. Though he doubted if the earl would help him, he had to try. Lord Brevershire had connections in Parliament, and he hoped the earl could use his influence to help him.

  Dalton walked inside the house and gave his coat and hat to the footman. ‘Where is my father?’ he asked.

  ‘His Lordship is in his study,’ the footman answered.

  Dalton thanked him and strode through the hallway. He walked inside and saw his father bent over a ledger, writing calmly.

  ‘Father,’ he greeted the man solemnly.

  The earl did not look up from his papers, but merely answered, ‘Dalton.’

  He waited to see if his father would say anything further, but there was nothing.

  Careful, he warned himself. You need his help.

  ‘Do you have time to talk?’ he asked, still waiting in the doorway.

  ‘Not now,’ Brevershire answered, still recording columns of numbers. ‘Perhaps later this evening.’

  ‘It’s important,’ Dalton continued. ‘I am in need of your guidance.’

  His father paused to set down his pen. He removed his spectacles and sighed. ‘I heard about your impulsive wedding. You must be aware of how the scandal impacted our family name. I could not go anywhere without someone speaking of it.’

  ‘I didn’t want Regina to be humiliated and abandoned on her wedding day,’ Dalton said. ‘I have no regrets.’

  ‘All of London was talking of it,’ the earl said. ‘I could go nowhere without someone laughing at our family. Do you understand the embarrassment you brought upon us? Did you even think of the consequences?’

  ‘I thought of her,’ he admitted. ‘And I suspect that if Mother had been in a similar situation, you’d have done the same.’

  ‘Did you ever wed her legally?’ his father prompted.

  He didn’t answer his father’s question. If he replied no, his father would do nothing to help him. Then again, he wasn’t certain his father would help him now. ‘Regina is my responsibility. She is in some...trouble at the moment, and I came to beg for your help.’r />
  ‘Beg?’ His father’s face turned incredulous. ‘When have you ever begged for anything? Making rash decisions has always been your way, Dalton. Like that wedding.’

  ‘I know I’ve made mistakes in the past. But I want to believe that you and I can work together.’

  The earl appeared doubtful, but Dalton refused to back down. He took a deep breath and steeled himself. ‘Regina was attacked several years ago, and the man who hurt her is now dead. Her father was receiving blackmail demands.’

  Brevershire stood from his desk, his expression grim. ‘One scandal after another.’

  ‘She is an innocent,’ Dalton argued. ‘I am asking for her sake. You know a great deal of people in London. With your influence, I might be able to protect her.’

  His father stared at him, and there was no denying that he didn’t want to be involved. But Dalton refused to back down.

  ‘I know I am not the son and heir you wanted,’ he said. ‘But I cannot stand by and do nothing. Regina is everything to me. I love her, and I will do everything in my power to help her.’

  The earl regarded him with a long look. ‘You want me to use my influence to convince others that her family is blameless?’

  ‘If it’s possible, yes.’

  His father’s expression turned grim. ‘It may not be. We cannot control what others think.’

  ‘I have a plan...though it is rather unusual. But if you help me save her, I will do whatever you wish of me. I will become like Brandon, if that is what you want.’

  His father sighed and shook his head. ‘You could never be Brandon.’

  The words stung, but Dalton nodded. ‘Then what is it you want? What can I do?’

  His father reached out and touched his shoulder. The weight of his hand was startling, for he could not remember the last time the earl had touched him. ‘I never wanted you to be Brandon.’

  ‘You never told me what you did want,’ Dalton said.

  His father stared off at the bookcase. ‘Grief is a difficult thing. There were times when I thought I was over his death, but then you would do something that reminded me of Brandon. It nearly brought me to my knees.’ John’s grip tightened on his shoulder. ‘Every time I saw you, I thought of him. You were more alike than you knew.’

  An ache caught in Dalton’s gut at his words. ‘I thought you never wanted anything to do with me. Because I was the reason he grew sick. If I hadn’t taken him to see Gabriel—’

  ‘It wasn’t your fault,’ John interrupted. He turned to face him squarely. ‘But losing a son isn’t something you ever get over.’

  ‘You still had a son left,’ Dalton said, his voice heavy. ‘And I knew I wasn’t the one you wanted.’

  John looked as if he’d been struck in the face. ‘You believed that?’

  Dalton shrugged. ‘What else was I to think?’

  His father met his gaze for a long moment, searching for the words. ‘I only wanted you to curb your impulses and think before you acted. Being an earl means you have to put the needs of others before your own.’

  ‘I have,’ Dalton answered, his voice raw with emotion. ‘I am putting her above all else.’

  For a long moment, John stared at him, as if taking his measure—as if he were seeing his son for the first time in years. At last, he answered, ‘Good. Then perhaps there’s hope for a new beginning. For all of us.’

  Chapter Thirteen

  In the dim light of the coach, Regina decided that she would no longer be a victim. The man had bound her hands in front of her, and she did not know who had hired him. He was little more than a thief-taker. But she would have her answers.

  She pressed her face against the side of the coach until part of the handkerchief was caught against her cheek. Slowly, she pulled, until she managed to free it from her mouth. Her tongue was dry, but she managed to cough.

  ‘Clever thing, aren’t you?’ he said.

  ‘Not clever enough to avoid captivity,’ she remarked, coughing again. He barked a laugh at that and handed her a flask of something. She wasn’t certain what it was, but she took it with her bound hands and ventured a sip.

  The whisky burned a path down her throat, but she managed to drink another swallow to clear her throat.

  ‘We’re stopping for the night soon,’ he told her. ‘If you’re a good girl, you can sleep in a room with me.’

  Where she could be attacked? It wasn’t at all a good idea. ‘Why stop at all?’ she asked. ‘I assume you were paid to bring me to someone. Won’t you get more if you bring me there faster?’

  He laughed again. ‘We have to change horses and get food. But if you want to keep travelling I’ve no objection.’

  ‘I would much rather continue travelling.’ She straightened and stared outside the window. ‘But I’d also like to know who hired you. And what your name is.’

  He let out a snort and took a sip from the flask. Then his gaze drifted over her body. ‘I suppose you would. Hobson’s my name.’

  She waited, but he did not reveal who had paid him to capture her. It was doubtful that this could be Lady Anne’s family. They had nothing at all. And if it were the authorities, then Mr Sidney would have taken her then.

  No, it was someone else. A dark thought occurred to her, and she wondered if she dared voice it. The coach was slowing down, and she needed to know. ‘Did Mallencourt’s family pay you well?’

  A sly smile spread over his face. ‘Clever, as I said.’

  Dear God. If the Mallencourts had discovered that their son’s death was not an accident, it was possible that they could bring charges against her and her father. It would be difficult, but not impossible. If they had the money to hire a thief-taker, then what else would they dare?

  ‘Be a good girl and stay quiet while I get food and change the horses.’ He reached out and stroked her cheek before he tied her ropes to the interior of the coach.

  Disgust roiled in her stomach, but she didn’t flinch at all. The more she cowered or surrendered, the more he would dare.

  ‘And if you’re friendly, I’ll keep you comfortable when they remand you into custody,’ he offered. ‘No chains to bruise this soft skin.’ He slid her hair back from her neck, resting his hand there.

  Revulsion rose up, and she suppressed her shudder. All the horrifying memories of Mallencourt returned, along with the wrenching fear. But she forced herself to ignore him, giving him nothing for the liberties he’d taken.

  He left the coach, and she waited in the dim light while someone changed the horses. She tried to reach for the door handle, but it was jammed shut. With her feet, she tried to kick it, but she heard the distinct rattle of chains.

  Regina cursed at that. She had based her plans on escaping right here and now. Instead, it seemed that she would have to rethink it. If they brought her into custody, there was one definite problem for the Mallencourts. Dalton had said it earlier—if the coroner had already ruled the death an accident five years ago, it would take a great deal to overturn it.

  If she clung to that, insisting her innocence, she might be able to avoid a trial.

  Outside, the rattling noise continued, until at last, Hobson pulled the door open. He got inside, and she could smell the heavenly aroma of fresh bread. She had never wanted to eat so much in all her life.

  Within moments, the coach was back on the road, and she watched as Hobson took out a piece of the bread. ‘I suppose you want this, don’t you?’

  Don’t answer, she warned herself. The price is too high.

  He took a bite, chewing with his mouth open. ‘I’ll give you a piece. But you’ll have to pay me.’

  She knew the sort of payment he wanted, and again, she behaved as if he wasn’t there. He reached out to pinch her roughly. ‘Do you think you’re something special, milady? You’re naught but a whore anyhow. Living as mistress to that viscount. You might
as well give me what I want.’ He leaned in as if to kiss her, and Regina spat in his face.

  Pain exploded across her cheek when he struck her with his fist. She was stunned into silence, and Hobson added, ‘You won’t escape, if that’s what you’re thinking. Remember who is your master, milady, and you’ll find that I can be generous to those who please me.’

  She lifted her chin and glared back at him. ‘You should think of what happened to the last man who touched me against my will.’ A trickle of blood ran down from her nose, but she refused to back down. Her words were an open threat, but she hardly cared.

  ‘Use your wits, Hobson. What do you think will happen to you if you violate the daughter of an earl? I will tell him what you did, and my father will use his position and power to ensure that you suffer. Whereas if you bring me home, who do you think will pay more? The Mallencourts, who have nothing, or an earl? Even my husband will offer more than enough for my safe return.’

  He was starting to falter, but he argued, ‘You’d just have me arrested as a thief-taker. I’d be in prison for this.’

  ‘It’s not too late,’ she insisted. ‘You made a mistake, but one that can be corrected.’

  She would not be a victim again, too terrified to fight back. This time, she would use her arguments, her words as weapons. He was still trying to think, but she could see that her words were starting to change his mind.

  Hobson continued to eat in front of her, and her stomach growled with raging hunger. She gladly accepted the pangs, as long as he kept his hands to himself. It would be another long night of travelling. She dared not close her eyes, though.

  ‘Think upon it,’ she told the man. ‘There is still time to change your mind.’ Her courage kept her voice calm, but inwardly, she remained troubled. To keep herself from panicking, she forced herself to think of Dalton.

  Dear God, she missed him. She had loved waking up in the morning with his arms around her. He’d made her feel beloved, and turning away from him had been the hardest thing she’d ever done. It was a physical ache to be apart from him.