Tying the Scot (Highlanders of Balforss)

by Trethewey, Jennifer

  “I do apologize,” Lucy said sweetly. “I didn’t want to miss any of your mother’s story.”

  At this, Liam broke into a rather vicious laugh. Apparently, he liked it when his sister stumbled publicly. Lucy’s brother George enjoyed teasing her mercilessly. But he never, ever humiliated her in front of others. These two siblings were loathsome individuals.

  Diana took up her story again, calling attention back to herself. Everyone else resumed eating. Feeling victorious, Lucy enjoyed the sensation of Elizabeth’s hot, hate-filled glare on her shoulder.

  Mrs. Swenson entered the dining room and placed a full platter of juicy roast beef and vegetables on the table in front of Laird John, who served himself. He held the steaming platter for Elizabeth. After serving herself, Elizabeth took the platter from John and held it for Lucy. However, when Lucy picked up the serving tongs, the platter slipped from Elizabeth’s hands, and its contents—scorching hot beef, potatoes, and carrots—emptied into Lucy’s lap.

  The hot juices immediately seeped through the delicate silk of her dress and she cried out. Alex leapt to his feet and pulled her out of her chair, brushing away the scalding food.

  “Oh dear,” Elizabeth said. “I am so sorry. Please forgive my clumsiness.”

  Lucy pulled herself together and said through gritted teeth, “Not at all.”

  “Excuse us,” Alex said. He wrapped a protective arm around her and led her out of the dining room. “Are you all right, sweeting?”

  “Take me to my room.” She felt tears of pain pricking at her eyes. Merde. She would be damned if she let that horrible woman make her cry.

  He escorted her above stairs, opened her bedchamber door, and brought the candle from the hallway inside.

  “Lucy, are you hurt?”

  “Get Haddie for me.” Her voice and her body shook uncontrollably, though from anger or from the struggle not to weep, she couldn’t tell.

  “Please, love, are you hurt?”

  “I won’t know until I take off my gown.”

  “Let me see.” He reached for her hem.

  “Stop it.” She batted away his hands. “Leave me be and just…go get Haddie.” She couldn’t let him see her like this. So out of control.

  “I cannae leave you alone.”

  “Go away!”

  …

  Alex flew down the stairs, through the back hallway, and around to the kitchen where he knew he’d find Haddie. “Miss Lucy needs you, lass. Go to her. And bring some of Mrs. Swenson’s burn ointment with you, just in case.”

  Haddie found the earthen jar of salve and sprinted out of the kitchen.

  “What’s happened?” asked Mrs. Swenson.

  “There was an accident.” Alex leaned against a breakfront, trying to catch his breath, his heart thundering in his ears. “And Lucy may have been hurt.”

  “Did Miss Elizabeth have anything to do with this accident?” Mrs. Swenson asked, the anger in her voice unmistakable.

  Alex confirmed her suspicion with a sharp nod.

  The cook made the sign of the horns with her fingers to ward off evil spirits, then whispered, “The spawn of Satan.”

  She surprised Alex. As kind and fair a woman as his mother, he’d never heard Mrs. Swenson utter a mean word about anyone. His father had pointed out Elizabeth’s dark side earlier in the day, and now, Mrs. Swenson—two people who were sound judges of character. How could he have been so blinded by Elizabeth’s charms not to notice her true nature?

  He left the kitchen and headed back to the house. Finding the dining room empty, he assumed the men had settled themselves in the library for a whisky. He heard Diana’s voice coming from his mother’s parlor upstairs. No doubt Elizabeth was with them. Damn her.

  Worry over Lucy plagued him. Seeking refuge from his relatives, he slipped out of the house and wandered into the garden Lucy liked so much.

  Gowans. Gowans might make her feel better.

  He’d bring her more gowans, and she would smile again. As he reached down to pluck a few stems, he heard Elizabeth.

  “Oh, Alex. I am so sorry. I feel awful.”

  She stepped out of the house and crossed the yard to him, wiping her eyes and sniffing. Alex gritted his teeth.

  “I hope she’s all right. I don’t know how I could have been so clumsy. Please, please forgive me, Alex. The platter slipped from my hands.” Her voice had a small, helpless quality quite unlike any he’d heard her use. She fell against his chest and sobbed. He was always at a loss when women cried. She seemed genuinely distraught. Perhaps it had been an accident after all. The platter was heavy and so full it could have happened to anyone.

  “It’s all right. No one blames you,” he said, patting her on the back.

  “But the way you looked at me. Like you hated me. Alex, I couldn’t stand it if you hated me.” She sounded truly contrite.

  “I dinnae hate you.”

  She let the length of her body lean against him, the lavender in her silky blond hair tickling his nose. His body remembered the last time he’d held her like this, and he became aroused despite his mind telling him you are betrothed to another.

  The woman’s hands slid from his chest up to his shoulders. “I made a terrible mistake sending you away. I didn’t realize how much I loved you until I saw you today. My heart will break when you marry Lucy.”

  Before he knew it, her lips were on his, kissing him with a passion she had never demonstrated before. He pulled away from her mouth.

  “Kiss me again, Alex. I can tell you still want me. Kiss me once more, plea—”

  “No.” Alex grasped her by the shoulders and held her away from him.

  She smiled a joyous smile. Six months ago, he would have done anything to make her smile like that. When she turned her face up to the second story of the house, Alex followed her gaze. Lucy stood at her window, staring down at them, her beautiful face twisted in agony. At first, Alex thought she must still be in pain from the accident.

  Then Elizabeth laughed. “Oops.” And she covered her mouth.

  For a second, he forgot how to breathe. Then the horrible weight of understanding nearly sent him to his knees.

  Lucy. Oh God, Lucy. Bloody hell, what have I done?

  …

  Liam waited in the shadows until Alex went inside the house before he started to applaud. “Well done, dear stepsister,” he said, grinning. His admiration for Elizabeth’s malicious nature deepened.

  She rounded on him. “You can go to hell.”

  Liam was less intimidated than aroused by the venom in her tone. “I’m congratulating you. You’ve played your part expertly.”

  “Do you know how humiliating that was for me? Prostrating myself at that oaf’s feet?”

  “Keep your voice down.” Liam took her roughly by the arm.

  She yanked her arm away but followed him to the side of the house where they would not be seen. “You’ll have to give her the letter. She won’t take anything from me now.”

  “Give it to me. She’ll be needing solace tomorrow, and I will be there to give it to her.”

  Elizabeth removed a folded parchment from her reticule. She handed the missive sealed with red wax bearing the emblem of a fox to her stepbrother. “I want my letters back. Now.”

  “I don’t have them with me, dear heart. But don’t worry. You’ll get them just as soon as my business is done.” He reached up and pinched her nipple through the bodice of her gown.

  His stepsister took a vicious swipe at his face with her claws. “If you ever touch me again, I will kill you,” Elizabeth spat. She turned on her heel and marched into the house.

  Liam tucked the parchment into his waistcoat and patted it gently. If all went according to plan, within forty-eight hours his financial troubles would be behind him. He touched his face. No blood, but her nails would leave a mark, three welts, rising as steadily as his cock.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “I’m fine, Haddie. No need for the salve,” Lucy assured her.
>
  Haddie helped Lucy into her nightgown. The tender skin on her thighs was red and angry-looking, but thankfully, she was not burned.

  “Will you bring me some willow bark tea?”

  “Aye, miss.”

  After Haddie left the room, she wandered to the window, restless. When Alex had helped her from the dining room, she’d been furious and in so much pain, she hadn’t had it in her to be the least bit tender toward him, whereas he had been nothing but attentive toward her. The moon was out, affording her a magical view of the front garden. Everything looked different in moonlight. As if fairies had cast a blue dust on all the flowers.

  Alex stood in the garden among the daisies, looking downcast. Feeling a pang of regret, she put her hand to the windowpane. She was about to open the latch and call to him when another figure stepped out of the house and into the garden. Icy fingers skittered up her spine. Lucy stood transfixed as she watched Alex take the horrible Elizabeth into his arms and hold her. Then he kissed her. Oh, God, he kissed her. The two lovers looked up at her window…and laughed. Lucy clapped a hand over her mouth and backed away from the window.

  Haddie stepped into the room. “Miss? Are you all right?”

  She staggered forward and grabbed the bedpost to keep from crumpling to the floor. “I’m not feeling well.” She shut her eyes tight. The scene in the garden exploded into sharp fragmented images. They stabbed at her brain and melted into red and yellow spots behind her eyelids.

  She was only vaguely aware of Haddie helping her into bed.

  “Drink the tea. It’ll help you sleep.” Haddie tucked the bedclothes tight around Lucy. “I’ll leave the lamp burning and check on you in an hour.”

  There was a sharp knock on her door. Lucy’s eyes flew open wide.

  “Lucy. It’s Alex. May I come in?”

  She shook her head violently. Haddie nodded her understanding and went to the door. As she exited, the maid said, “Wheesht. You’ll wake her. She’s sleeping now.”

  “Is she hurt bad, Haddie?” he asked.

  “No, but it pains her. Best let her sleep.”

  Lucy heard them walk away. A few seconds later, though, Alex scratched at the door joining their rooms.

  “Lucy. I ken you’re no’ asleep. Will you talk to me, please? It’s not what you think.”

  She shut her eyes and covered her ears. No more lies. She didn’t want to hear any more lies from Alex. His betrayal cut her to the bone. The truth crystallized in her mind so suddenly it made her ill. She was living a nightmare, surrounded by people who did nothing but lie to her. Alex didn’t want her. His father John had arranged this marriage with her father for financial gain. His mother Flora was probably just being nice to her to make her think she was welcome here. What would things be like after she married him? Would his true nature surface? Would they all turn against her? Was Balforss to be her prison?

  An even more horrifying thought came to her. What if, once the marriage was complete, Alex planned to do away with her so he could be with Elizabeth? No. No, Alex would never do something like that. Or would he? There were the men he’d cut down, slaughtered savagely, without a second thought.

  Her frightened mind jumped from one paralyzing conclusion to another. What if those men who attacked them on the way here had been Langley’s men trying to rescue her? She had helped kill one of them. How could she have been so gullible? She had to stop crying and think.

  Hercules, always able to sense her distress, whined for attention. She hugged him close and whispered to him. “We can’t marry Alex, mon cher. We have to leave this place.” But how?

  Langley.

  Was it too late? Was he still nearby, hoping to see her? In his letter, he said he was staying with the Lady Sutherland. Somehow, she had to get a message to Langley or convince someone to take her to him. Langley would save her.

  Her head swam with visions of Alex kissing Elizabeth. The two of them making love under her nose while laughing at her. When she fell asleep, she dreamed fitfully. Nightmares of men trying to kill her brought her to consciousness. When she lapsed into sleep again, she dreamed of Alex placing a smothering kiss on her face, and she woke covered in perspiration.

  My God. I nearly let Alex ruin me.

  Sometime during the night, Haddie had come into her room and extinguished the lamp.

  Haddie is good. Haddie will help me escape in the morning.

  …

  Well after midnight, Alex lay on his bed still dressed. He couldn’t sleep. Wouldn’t sleep. Not until he got Lucy to listen to him and understand. Growing angrier by the minute, he launched himself out of bed, reached for the handle on the door adjoining their rooms, and stopped. She was still upset. He knocked instead.

  “Lucy,” he called. “Talk to me.” Nothing. He went into the hall and rapped on her door. “Lucy, please. I’ll knock this door down if you dinnae open it now.”

  “Alex?” His mother called to him from the opposite end of the corridor. “What’s the matter? Is Lucy all right?”

  “Nothing, Ma. Go back to bed.” He was in such an agitated state he couldn’t disguise the anger in his voice.

  His reply had been far too short for his mother’s liking. She marched down the hall toward him, tying her robe around her as she went. He could tell by the sound of her footsteps she was boiling mad. Barely speaking above a whisper, she said, “I will not have you creating a fuss in the middle of the night. Go to bed and leave Lucy be. You can resolve whatever is troubling you tomorrow.”

  Thoroughly disgusted with himself and his miserable situation, he stomped past his mother and barreled down the staircase. If he couldn’t settle things with Lucy tonight, he’d find relief in a bottle. He flung open the library door, strode to the cabinet, and poured himself a long shot of his father’s best whisky, then tossed it back. He nearly spit the whole mouthful out when he heard an unseen individual speak.

  “Something bothering you, brother?”

  A head popped out from behind the wingback chair.

  “Ian.”

  Alex embraced him, pounded him on the back several times, and then shook him by the shoulders. His troubles evaporated in an instant, replaced with pure joy at seeing his brother. It had been nearly a year since he’d been home last. He stepped back to get a better look. Ian was dressed in full uniform, dust covered and road weary, but looked as happy as Alex felt.

  “When did you get here?”

  “Just the now. Someone is sleeping in my room. I didnae want to wake Ma, so I thought I’d sleep down here and surprise her in the morning.” Ian pointed to the whisky bottle. “May I join you?”

  Alex retrieved another glass and poured them both a tot. They settled down at the card table.

  “I’m glad to see you, man,” Alex said. “Slainte.”

  “I wouldnae miss my big brother’s wedding.”

  His smile faded. “If there is a wedding.” He took another swallow of the golden liquid. It was helping, but he wouldn’t sleep until he was dead drunk.

  “Sounds serious,” Ian said. “Is something amiss?”

  “Aye. Lucy willnae speak to me.”

  “Why?”

  “She saw me kiss Elizabeth.”

  “Christ, man.” Ian bolted to his feet. “Have you lost your bloody mind? Days before your wedding and you’re kissing Elizabeth?” He paced around the library, sending looks of disgust Alex’s way.

  “She kissed me.” Alex protested.

  “I fail to see the difference.”

  He proceeded to tell Ian everything, starting with his first embarrassing blunder on the road from Inverness to Balforss.

  “You did what?” Ian asked, dumbfounded by Alex’s stupidity.

  “I revealed myself to her before we got home,” he said, again on the defensive.

  “And she forgave you?”

  “Aye.” He continued to tell him about their subsequent misunderstandings regarding the love letter and offering to call off the wedding. Ian shook his head in
disbelief.

  “Things were going well for a while. She was responsive, ye ken?” Alex said, seeking understanding from his younger brother.

  “Aye. I ken well enough.”

  “Lucy liked me. She wanted to marry me. Until Cousin Diana and Sir Ranald arrived.” When he got to the part about Elizabeth injuring Lucy, then tricking him into kissing her, Ian covered his face.

  “I need more whisky,” Ian said, holding out his glass. “I dinnae ken how you will dig your way out of this. You’ve done some serious damage.”

  “What should I do?”

  Ian shook his head. “Be prepared to spend tomorrow on your knees, brother.”

  Alex folded his arms on the table and laid his head down.

  “You say she’s handy with a bow?”

  “Aye,” Alex said, his voice sounding muffled with his head buried in his arms.

  Ian patted his brother on the back. “Dinnae fash. I have an idea that just might work.”

  …

  The pleasant morning sounds of Balforss coming to life teased Lucy awake. She stretched. Then memories of last night’s terrible revelations descended upon her, pinning her body to the bed as if she were staked to the ground. Unable to move, unable to open her eyes, or lift her head from the pillow. How could she? How could she face the sunlight, much less the faces of those people who had betrayed her? Elizabeth, Liam, John, Flora. Was everyone in league with Alex?

  Haddie slipped noiselessly into her bedchamber. “How are you this morning, miss?” Hercules danced on his hind legs and pestered Haddie to take him outside.

  Was Haddie a part of Alex’s deception? No. Haddie was far too guileless.

  “Perfectly fine, thank you,” Lucy said. “No damage done.”

  She managed to drag her body from the bed and stagger to the washbasin. As she performed her morning ablutions, Lucy considered the risk involved in asking her maid for help. She wanted desperately to get away from Balforss—today, if possible. Asking Laird John outright to be returned home would tip her hand. If they had planned to force the union and imprison her here as she suspected, she might lose her only opportunity to escape.