The Legend of a Rogue (League of Rogues)

by Darcy Burke

  He chuckled and took her hand once more. Pressing a kiss to her fingertips, he looked into her eyes with unabashed desire. “Not to me, but we are not wed, and I would not have you thinking I would take advantage.”

  “We could handfast.” She flinched. “I’m no better than Angus.”

  “I can guess who Angus is, and don’t you dare compare yourself to him. Unless you’ve asked other men to handfast today?”

  She smiled at his dry tone. “Not today.” She sobered and squeezed his hand. “Not ever.”

  “You tempt me, Elspeth. In every way.” He swept his lips over hers once more. The kiss was brief, but her body reacted, curling toward him like a plant seeking the sun.

  He stepped back once more. “You should go prepare for dinner.” His tone was gruff, while his eyes were hot with desire.

  “All right.” She didn’t hide the reluctance or disappointment from her voice. “I’ll see you downstairs. After, we’ll speak with Carrie.”

  He nodded. “And after that… Well, we’ll see what happens.”

  Elspeth slitted her eyes at him, then dashed forward to brush a kiss against his cheek before turning and taking her leave. It was as if she walked on air.

  She never wanted to come down.

  Chapter Six

  Tavish was the first to arrive in the common room for dinner. He could attribute it to hoping to catch Carrie so he could question her, but the truth was that he was eager to see Elspeth.

  He’d nearly asked her to be his wife. The only thing that had stopped him was the short length of their acquaintance—that they’d met over two years ago didn’t count. How was it, then, that he felt as if he’d known her at least that long?

  Because she’d inhabited his mind. From the moment he’d been drawn into her story in Dunkeld, he’d been enchanted. That she’d abandoned her need to tell a story to join him in his quest to find Lann Dhearg made her that much more enticing.

  There was also her laugh, her sharp intelligence, and the undeniable way she felt in his arms—right. He was already halfway in love with her, at least, so why not propose marriage? After all, she was the one who’d suggested handfasting, and what was that beyond a step to marriage?

  It allowed for a temporary union, one in which they didn’t have to stop what they’d been doing earlier. Was that all she wanted?

  Carrie emerged from the kitchen just as the front door opened. A swell of cold air filled the common room just before a man fell forward. The dogs rushed over from the hearth, barking and sniffing at him.

  Tavish hurried to the man as Carrie ran to close the door. Kneeling beside the prone form, Tavish tilted the man’s head and sucked in air through his teeth. Though he was battered and bleeding, there was no mistaking his identity: Dougal Kerr.

  Carrie gasped. “Dougal!”

  “Where can I take him?” Tavish asked.

  “Bring him to my room so ye dinna have ta carry him upstairs.”

  Tavish hefted the man into his arms and followed Carrie to a narrow corridor behind the stairs. She went through a doorway to the left, and they stepped into a snug chamber. Tavish deposited Kerr on the bed in the corner.

  “I’ll fetch some medicine and cloth.” Carrie gestured to a washbasin against the far wall. “There’s water.”

  Kerr groaned as his eyes fluttered open. He tried to focus on Tavish, but his features were creased with fear.

  “It’s John MacLean,” Tavish said soothingly. “You made it to Balthazar’s. What happened?”

  “There were men.” He closed his eyes once more and lifted his hand to his head. Wincing, he let out a sharp gasp. “Hurts so much.”

  “Carrie will be back with something to help you.” Tavish went to the washbasin and found a small cloth there. After wetting it, he returned to the bed and gently dabbed at the worst of Kerr’s wounds—a bleeding gash on the side of his head.

  “I thought they were good men,” Kerr rasped, his eyes still closed. “They said they would help Neil too. I asked if they ken ye, and they said they did.”

  What the devil? Tavish didn’t work with anyone, especially when it came to assisting Jacobites. Could it have been men he’d helped in the past who wanted to return the favor? That didn’t make sense. His blood went cold—they’d mentioned Neil. They were after Lann Dhearg. They had to be.

  Before he could ask, Carrie returned. She shooed Tavish aside as she put the items she’d gathered on the table beside the bed. “Fetch me the washbasin, Mr. MacLean.” She tore strips of cloth and set them on the table as Tavish brought the pottery and put it down next to her implements. There was a bottle and a jar, salve, perhaps.

  Tavish handed her the cloth he’d used to dab at Kerr’s head. “Here.”

  She didn’t spare a look for Tavish as she took the cloth and set to work cleaning Kerr’s face to the best of her ability. The patient grimaced and moaned, but she worked quickly and efficiently.

  “You might consider a new occupation as a healer,” Tavish noted.

  Carrie snorted. “As if my father would permit that.” She poured the liquid from the bottle onto a clean cloth, and the scent of witch hazel rose in the air. She applied the medicine to Dougal’s cuts. “Better now?” she asked.

  “Yes, thank you.” Kerr opened one eye—the other was beginning to swell shut—and looked up at Tavish. “They want the sword. I heard them talking about it after they thought I was unconscious. They think Neil can lead them to it.”

  Dammit. Tavish ran his hand over the side of his neck.

  Carrie had picked up the jar of salve and then immediately dropped it. Muttering a curse, she picked it up and removed the lid, setting it on the table.

  “How many men?” Tavish asked.

  “Three came into the cottage. But there were more outside.”

  “Can you tell me exactly what they said about the sword?”

  “Ow!” Kerr yelped and Carrie apologized.

  Tavish noted her hands were shaking. He recalled what Elspeth had told him. It seemed Carrie knew something. “Carrie, are you all right?” he asked gently.

  “I’m fine,” she snapped, indicating she was perhaps not. “I’m not the one who was thrashed.”

  He looked back to Kerr. “Have you any idea where the men might have gone?”

  “Good question,” Carrie said. “I hope they don’t come here.”

  That drew Tavish’s entire attention. “Carrie, is there something you know about these men?” Tavish had a fair idea who they were and would be shocked if she knew them.

  She stood, brushing her hands on her apron and glaring at Tavish. “Why would I ken these men? I just don’t want them showing up here. It’s bad for business!”

  “Carrie, do you happen to know where Neil Kerr is hiding?”

  Her bright green eyes widened, and she darted a look at Dougal, who rose up on his elbow, then promptly fell back on the bed with a groan.

  “Ye can trust Mr. MacLean,” Dougal said between sucking in breaths and squeezing his one good eye shut.

  Carrie bit her lip as she surveyed Tavish, her expression heavy with doubt.

  “You can trust me.” Tavish gave her an encouraging nod. “I am trying to find Neil so that I may keep him safe from the English soldiers.”

  A bit of her skepticism seemed to fade, but they were interrupted by the arrival of her father. Balthazar stood in the doorway, his hands on his hips. “There ye are, daughter! I need ye in the common room!” His gaze fell on her bed. “What the bloody hell happened to him?”

  Tavish opened his mouth to answer, but Balthazar waved his hand. “Later. We’ve got customers who want ale. Get yerself going, Carrie!” he bellowed before turning and striding away toward the common room.

  “I’ll check on ye later!” Carrie hurried from the room without so much as a glance toward Tavish.

  Tavish frowned in deep disappointment. He was sure Carrie knew more than she was saying. After dinner, he would find out what.

  Approaching t
he bed, Tavish realized Kerr had fallen asleep, his even breathing matching the rise and fall of his chest. Tavish muttered a frustrated curse, then departed. On his way to the common room, he ran into Elspeth.

  She’d changed for dinner and wore a fetching gown of cream silk with an embroidered stomacher. He momentarily forgot everything but her loveliness.

  “You look beautiful,” he breathed.

  She blushed as she skimmed her palms over the skirt of her gown. “Thank you. It’s my finest dress. I wore it to a dinner with my cousins and their neighbors in Inverness.” She shook her head. “Never mind, that hardly signifies. I heard there was a commotion.”

  Tavish pulled himself back to what was happening. “Dougal Kerr was attacked.” He pressed his lips together as the anger he’d held at bay began to simmer.

  Elspeth lifted her hand to her throat, where a pearl necklace lay against her flesh. “Is he all right?”

  “He will be.” While Tavish hadn’t investigated Kerr’s wounds, he assumed the man had more injuries than to his face.

  She clasped her hands, squeezing them together as her face darkened with concern. “I am not a physician like my father, but I can take a look at him and offer some suggestions.”

  “You are very kind.” Tavish smiled, thinking this was yet another reason he could see himself with her…

  Once again, he shook himself from his reverie. This was no time to be distracted. “The men who attacked him were looking for Neil—and the sword.”

  The color left Elspeth’s face. “You told me there were dangerous groups who would seek the sword. Is this…one of them?”

  “I’m afraid it might be. It’s the only thing that makes sense. If they’d just been looking for Neil, I might think they were English soldiers out of uniform, which would be awful, or perhaps mercenaries they hired to hunt down Jacobites. However, since they were in search of the sword, I have to believe they are from one of these groups. If that’s true, Kerr should be glad he escaped with his life.” Tavish glanced back toward Carrie’s chamber where he slept.

  “You have to find the sword before they do,” Elspeth said fiercely.

  “Yes.” He stepped toward her and clasped her waist. “And I think you’re right about Carrie—she knows something. She tended to Kerr’s injuries, and when he told me about the sword, she grew very agitated.”

  “Did she tell you anything?”

  He shook his head. “Her father interrupted, but I intend to get answers later.”

  Elspeth touched his cheek. “Where do you think those men are now?”

  “I don’t know, but I’m going to investigate Kerr’s cottage to see if I can learn anything.”

  “Now?” At his answering nod, she said, “But what about dinner? Aunt Leah is looking forward to seeing you.”

  He squeezed her waist. “Please give her my apologies. We will simply have to delay our congregation until breakfast.”

  “Does that include you and me?” Elspeth asked softly, her dusky green gaze sweeping over him with unmasked desire.

  Tavish’s body hardened. “I’ll come see you later.”

  She stood on her toes and kissed his cheek near his ear, then whispered, “So you can tell me about what you learn, or for some other…activity?”

  He groaned softly, wishing he could take her upstairs right that very moment for an activity that involved both of them naked in front of the fire. “We should probably question Carrie.”

  Elspeth sighed as her fingers pressed into his nape, and she kissed the spot beneath his ear. “I suppose. But perhaps I’ll have done so before you return.”

  His thoughts were beginning to cloud in a haze of want. He couldn’t help but bring her hips flush against his. His cock strained in his breeches as he reveled in the sweet torture of her proximity—so close and yet so far. “That would be most, ah, efficient of you.”

  “I’ll do my best.” She dragged her lips across his jaw and kissed him.

  He wrapped his arms about her with a harsh moan and swept her around to the wall, pressing her against it and settling his hips between her legs—or trying to anyway. He’d have to lift her to get the position just right, and her panniers, narrow as they were, would likely prevent that. She licked her tongue into his mouth as she held his head, their kiss turning wild.

  With great effort, he pulled his mouth from hers, his breath coming hard and fast. “Elspeth, I’m sorely tempted to toss your skirts up right here, but that will not be the first way we come together, do you understand?”

  She nodded, her eyes dark with desire.

  “When I take you, it will be in a bed, with your glorious body spread before me, nude and aroused.”

  “I think I’ve mastered the aroused part.”

  A laugh burst from his lips, and he kissed her again, smiling the whole while. “Get back to your aunt. I’ll see you soon.” He released her and stepped back, smoothing his hand over his hair.

  “Be careful, please.” She stared at him intently before pivoting and returning to the common room.

  He would be more than careful. He’d never had more reason to be.

  All during dinner, Elspeth watched the door, hopeful for Tavish’s return, and not just so he could join them for dinner. No, that wasn’t nearly as troublesome as whether he was safe. What if the men who’d attacked Dougal Kerr were watching the cottage and Tavish had walked right into their trap?

  Even now, he could be lying unconscious at the cottage. Or worse, he could be—

  Elspeth shoved the thought away. She wasn’t going to consider such a thing, not when she’d just found him.

  After drinking a glass of madeira with Aunt Leah, who truly was disappointed that Tavish wasn’t able to join them, Elspeth made her way back downstairs with the intention of speaking with Carrie. Elspeth surveyed the common room, but Tavish wasn’t there.

  Carrie came from the kitchen and delivered stew to a couple near the fireplace. Wiping her hands on her apron, she went to a table that had clearly been recently vacated and began to gather the empty tankards and trenchers.

  Elspeth approached her cautiously. She’d rehearsed what she planned to say, but didn’t get a chance to utter a word as Carrie met her gaze right away. “Might I ask ye a favor, Miss Marshall? I don’t know if ye heard, but Dougal Kerr was attacked and is asleep in my chamber.”

  Taken aback, Elspeth struggled to respond, “I, ah—”

  “You didn’t know? I assumed Mr. MacLean would have told you.” She lifted a shoulder. “Seems like you two are cozy.”

  It did? “Yes, he mentioned it. I’d be happy to check on Mr. Kerr.”

  “Thank ye, Miss Marshall. I’m just so very busy. Papa insists all the tables be clean and available for customers.” Carrie inclined her head toward the stairs, and red curls brushed her temple. “My room’s past the stairs, on the left.”

  Elspeth wanted to question her, but again, it seemed that would have to wait.

  Carrie hurriedly wiped the table. “Will ye let me know if he’s awake? I’ll bring him some dinner.”

  Elspeth nodded. “I will.”

  She made her way to Elspeth’s chamber, finding it easily, and slipped quietly inside. Mr. Kerr lay prone on the bed, his lips parted and eyes closed. One didn’t look as if it could open.

  Elspeth bent over the man, her concern for Tavish growing as she inspected Kerr’s injuries. Her heart began to beat faster, and she felt as if the room was closing in around her.

  He’s a soldier. He’s capable. And he’s smart. He’ll be fine.

  She repeated the words over and over in her mind until she began to calm. Then she collapsed in a chair in the corner, exhaling as she wiped her hand over her brow.

  Why was she so very concerned about Tavish? Had she come to care for him so much in this incredibly short time? Even after he’d deceived her?

  She understood why he’d done so, and he’d apologized. Repeatedly. And if she truly believed him, she accepted what he said about helpin
g Jacobites, about keeping some number of men safe from capture and harm. She recalled his behavior with the English soldiers yesterday, how he’d leapt to the defense of the men discussing Culloden.

  And the sword.

  The sword she’d hoped to write about but now couldn’t. It existed! She could still scarcely believe that fact.

  She suddenly realized she was in Carrie’s room. Alone. Her gaze drifted to the man on the bed. Well, not alone, but close enough.

  Elspeth stood hastily and poked around the chamber, looking for any clue that might lead her and Tavish to Neil or the sword. Not that Carrie would know where the sword was. But maybe she did.

  The room wasn’t large, but it was well lived in, with a bed, dresser, small table, and chair, and, of course, the hearth. There was also a narrow door at the end of the bed.

  Elspeth slipped the latch and slowly pushed it open. “I hope this doesn’t lead to someone else’s chamber, and that they’re inside,” she murmured to herself.

  The room was dark, so she had to fetch a candle from Carrie’s room. Armed with flickering light, Elspeth stepped into the other chamber and instantly froze. It was rather small, but it was full of…things. What drew her eye most were the weapons—swords, daggers, a pair of shields. One shelf held an odd assortment of badges and brooches as well as a necklace and a ring.

  Elspeth ran her fingers over one of the brooches, a gold lion with an intricate design. What was all this? She turned in a complete circle, moving slowly, as she surveyed the items. The door blocked part of a shield, so she pushed it nearly closed.

  Her gaze arrested on a sword standing in the corner behind the door. It was quite long, the blade broad. But it was the hilt that drew her attention. Made of gold, the upper and lower guards bore interesting markings.

  Elspeth went to look more closely. The markings were runes, she thought, and upon closer inspection, the blade had a herringbone pattern. It didn’t look like any sword she’d seen. The longer she studied it, the faster her heart raced.

  She held the candle closer and crouched down to use the light to study the hilt.

  “What are ye doing in here?”