by Lynn Kurland
He pulled away from the temptation to trot out and hoist a sword in her defense—again, something he realized uneasily that he’d already been tempted to do. She was a mystery and one he had no interest in investigating further. He had enough of them in his own life without adding another to the mix.
“And I’ve lost my phone. I think events are conspiring against me.”
It’s Fate, he wanted to call out, but decided it might be best to just keep that thought to himself. No sense in drawing attention to himself unnecessarily.
“Let’s go borrow a flashlight and we’ll come look around the garden one more time,” Sunshine said. “I’m sure it’s around here somewhere.”
Nathaniel wondered if it might be wisest just to drop the phone and run. If he were especially clever, he might manage to just set the damned thing on the front step and bolt before anyone was the wiser—
“We’ll fix the other, too,” Madelyn MacLeod offered as they made their way back inside. “Patrick can make that happen.”
Nathaniel suspected Patrick MacLeod could make all sorts of things happen. He stood there and contemplated what the lord of Benmore might need to be fixing for longer than he should have. He realized what he was doing when he saw three lassies with torches returning to the outside.
There was no time like the present to get the hell out of Dodge, as his American cousins might have said.
He supposed, as he sprinted past the front door, that his direction had been ill-advised, but he wasn’t at his best. He didn’t want to look and see if he’d been spotted, but damn his curiosity if it didn’t get the better of him. He cast a quick glance at the trio of women standing just inside the doorway.
They were looking at him as if they’d just seen a ghost.
He decided it was best not to try to sort that for them. He vaulted over a hedge of roses, cursing the rip in his jeans and the cuts on his hands that he earned as a result, then ran bodily into a black Range Rover. He should have remembered it was there given that he’d seen it not a quarter of an hour before, but he was, as he’d noted before, not at his best.
The window was down, which he didn’t think was a particularly good thing. He was fortunate he hadn’t landed in the lap of—
Well, hell. That was Patrick MacLeod’s Range Rover, and that was the young Himself sitting behind the wheel. Nathaniel pulled himself back from where he’d been plastered half inside the man’s car, grasped the roof to hold himself upright, and tried to catch his breath.
“Need help, mate?” Patrick MacLeod asked politely. “Oh . . . ah—”
Nathaniel thought he might best serve His Lordship by reaching out and helping him retrieve his jaw from where it had suddenly fallen to his chest. He had the feeling that Lord Patrick’s condition had less to do with the potential damage to the car than it did the fact that he might as well have been looking in a mirror.
Patrick’s mouth moved, but no sound came out.
Nathaniel supposed he had an unfair advantage, having given the potential for the current encounter a great amount of thought beforehand, but he wasn’t above using that advantage ruthlessly. He smiled pleasantly.
“Lost my cat, what?” he said in his best Etonian accent. “Must continue the search, sorry.”
Then he did the wisest thing he’d done all day: he turned right and fled.
The man’s headlamps went on, but Nathaniel didn’t linger in their light. He bolted back up the way to the pub, met Keith at the back door, and tossed him twenty quid.
“Your change—”
“Please, nay,” Nathaniel said, with feeling. If he had to hear any numbers he didn’t want to hear, he would simply sit down on the ground and weep. He took his supper and jogged back to his car, praying he wouldn’t see anything else he didn’t want to see. The Yank’s phone burned a hole in his pocket, but he ignored that as well.
Altruism? What absolute rot it was. Never again.
He would have to get her damned phone back to her, but it would have to be done without kicking up a fuss. He should have just dropped it in the garden and let her find it, but the grass had been damp. He would just have to wait until the next day, then take it and leave it somewhere she could find it—perhaps at Mrs. McCreedy’s.
He got himself out of the village without encountering any stray noblemen in black SUVs, then continued on his way home without pausing to check his email or do any of the business he should have been doing. It would keep, and so would the phone in his pocket.
He would worry about the rest in the morning.
Chapter 5
Emma stood on the front steps of the inn she had just checked out of and wondered if she would spend the rest of her time in Scotland seeing handsome men popping out of shadows while never getting to actually meet them.
There was something about the guy she’d just watched run past her, though, that was uncomfortably familiar. She wasn’t ready to swear to it, but she suspected he was the one she had seen earlier in the day, in the forest. The obvious difference was that he was darting across front gardens and leaping over hedges instead of stumbling out of medieval battle scenes, but it was hard to deny how much he looked like that guy with the sword. She was almost tempted to ask Sunny and her sister if they’d seen him before, but then she would have had to explain where she had seen him before and she thought that might just make her sound more crazy than she already felt.
“Let’s go grab dinner at my house,” Madelyn MacLeod said, “then we’ll get you settled.”
Emma dragged herself back to the matter at hand and looked at Sunny’s sister. “You know, on second thought—”
“Oh, no,” Sunny said cheerfully, “you don’t want any of those. Come on, this will be fun.”
Emma held on to the handle of the suitcase she shouldn’t have packed in such a rush. “I’ll be okay,” she said firmly. “I’m already paid through the week here and—” She had to take a deep breath, because she simply couldn’t bring herself to finish that sentence.
She was paid through the week, damn it, and she didn’t want to spend the money to double book herself into another place, especially since she hadn’t asked for a refund at her current spot. She hadn’t dared. Mrs. Southerton had checked her out, then tapped her No refunds, no matter the reason sign meaningfully. Emma had realized there was no point in arguing.
That she’d even had to contemplate arguing was, in short, devastating. One of her less savory reasons for having come to Scotland had been to get away from a rather messy past—more particularly her ex-boyfriend, who had contributed so heavily to that messy past. That he should be continuing to make life miserable for her shouldn’t have surprised her. That he had tried to get her kicked out of her accommodations surprised her even less. What baffled her was how he’d known where she was, but that was maybe something she could think about later.
She took a deep breath and looked at her companions in turn. “I honestly do appreciate the rescue, but I can handle this. I had a moment of weakness there, but I’m fine now.”
Madelyn touched her arm briefly. “Emma, let us help you, just this once. Sunny and I have both been where you are.” She paused. “Well, Sunny might not have been, because she’s had the good sense to date great guys, but I understand completely what it’s like to be involved with someone who turns out to be the world’s biggest jerk.” She smiled. “When I came to Scotland to take my dream vacation, my ex-fiancé got here first and just about ruined my life.”
“Oh, I don’t think that’ll happen,” Emma protested, in a last-ditch effort not to impose. “Sheldon’s annoying, but I can handle him.”
Madelyn looked at her in surprise. “Sheldon? Sheldon Cook?”
Emma knew she was wearing the same look. “Yes, actually,” she said in astonishment. “Do you know him?”
Madelyn reached over and took Emma’s suitcase from her. “I’v
e had a few legal dramas with him. Please, let me have the chance to make his life miserable.” She shook her head. “How in the world did you ever get mixed up with him?”
“It’s a long story,” Emma began.
“Fabulous,” Sunny said, taking her backpack away from her. “We have plenty of time. My husband’s in London, so I’m camping out with Maddy. You can fill us both in over dinner.”
“Then we’ll deal with finding you somewhere else to stay.” Madelyn looked at Sunny. “Jamie has that little place not far from the lake that he bought last year. Wouldn’t that be perfect?”
“It would be,” Sunny agreed. “Great location.”
Madelyn looked at her sister blankly, then she smiled faintly. “Well, I understand the view is excellent.”
“That’s what I’ve heard, too,” Sunny said with an answering smile.
Emma suspected something was going on, but she didn’t bother to pry. Her own sisters were famous for inside jokes between themselves, so she understood how that went.
“I know my brother-in-law has been looking for someone to stay in the place and air it out,” Madelyn said. “I’d honestly be very surprised if he didn’t pay you to do him the favor.”
“But you don’t even know me,” Emma said. She looked at Sunny. “I only took your class for a few months—”
“And wasn’t that a fortuitous crossing of our paths?” Sunny said with a smile. “You need a place to crash, Jamie needs a property manager, and Maddy wants to give grief to some scumbag lawyer I’m guessing annoyed her back in Seattle.” She slung the backpack over her shoulder. “Everyone wins.”
Emma attempted a smile, but failed. “I don’t know what to say.”
“No need to say anything,” Madelyn said cheerfully. “We’re thrilled to have company. Oh, there’s Pat parked over there. Let’s get home and get dinner started.”
Emma would have attempted a last protest that their help was just too much for her to accept, but she found herself too busy trailing after the Phillips sisters across the garden and over to the side gate. Emma guessed that was indeed Madelyn’s husband getting out of that SUV parked there. He opened the back up, then turned to look at them.
She almost had to sit down.
He looked so much like the guy she’d seen before in the medieval costume, she could have sworn they were brothers.
“Pat, this is Emma Baxter,” Madelyn said. “Emma, my husband, Patrick.”
Emma shook his hand and babbled something she hoped didn’t sound completely unhinged. It took her a moment or two to rein in her surprise.
“Do you have a brother?” she asked, because that sounded more reasonable than asking him if he himself routinely dressed in a kilt and faded in and out of mist in the woods. She wasn’t sure how wondering the same about a potential brother was any different, but she was really reaching for anything that sounded remotely normal.
Patrick MacLeod looked slightly startled. “One, aye. Do you know him?”
She realized she was in too far to escape without sounding crazy, so she decided she would just keep going and look confident. “He didn’t go running through the garden just now, did he?”
Patrick took her bags from his wife and sister-in-law, put them in the car, then shut the hatch. He turned and looked at her. “That lad I think you saw is a local, but I’ve never met him. I understand he owns the cottage on the loch.”
“We were just thinking about him earlier,” Madelyn said with a smile. “Nathaniel MacLeod, isn’t it?”
“The very same, I believe,” Patrick said. “He came vaulting over the hedge just now and left a dent in my car.”
“What was left of him?” Sunny asked with a laugh.
“He ran off before I could find out,” Patrick said. He looked at his wife and lifted his eyebrows briefly. “Odd happenings in Scotland, aye?”
“Very,” Madelyn agreed. “Maybe we should have made the effort to go visit him before now, all isolated and alone like he is out there without neighbors.”
“Or we could continue to just let him have his privacy,” Patrick said wryly. “If he’s hiding, he probably just wants to be left alone.”
“I don’t know how he manages that,” Sunny said with a snort. “I think there isn’t a socialite in London who hasn’t pinned me at a party to ask me about him.”
“What do you tell them?” Madelyn asked.
“I say that I understand he’s molded from all the rain, he’s extremely ugly, and that all those rumors of his staggering wealth are grossly inflated.” Sunny looked at Emma. “I guess you’ll know better than the rest of us how much of a recluse he is, given that you’ll be living next to him.”
Emma smiled weakly. So that was the guy everyone seemed to be hunting. That was obviously how he’d perfected that sprint he’d demonstrated for them earlier.
“Well, as long as he’s not dangerous,” she managed.
“Meek as a lamb, I’m sure,” Sunny said cheerfully. “I think he travels a lot, actually.”
Emma didn’t want to speculate, so she simply got into Patrick’s SUV where invited to, then realized what she was missing. She turned and looked at Sunny, who was sitting next to her. “I’m forgetting my car,” she said, “and really, this is too generous—”
Patrick handed his keys to his wife, then hopped out of the car. He opened her door and held out his hand. “I’ll bring it along for you.”
“I couldn’t—”
“You could,” he said easily.
She dug reluctantly in her purse and found her keys, then handed them over slowly. “It’s the gray Ford in the back.”
“I’ll find it,” he assured her. “See you gels at home.”
Madelyn got into the driver’s seat and looked over her shoulder. “Feel like you’re being kidnapped?”
Emma smiled in spite of herself. “A little, but I’d rather think of it as a very welcome rescue.”
“Ulterior motive,” Madelyn said airily. “We’re counting on you to dig up dirt on that reclusive Nathaniel MacLeod. Sunny and I have been trying to figure him out for the past couple of years with absolutely no success. No one seems to know anything about him.”
“That they’re willing to tell,” Sunny corrected. “I think Mrs. McCreedy knows a lot more than she’s willing to divulge.”
“Do you think he’s dangerous?” Emma asked casually. “Really?”
“Mrs. McCreedy says he’s delicious,” Sunny said, “which is her highest level of praise, so I would say reclusive? Yes. Dangerous? No.” She shrugged. “People come to Scotland for various reasons, I suppose, and privacy is definitely one of them. The rumor is that he was born here, so maybe he just feels like it’s home.”
“Or he doesn’t want to deal with the London social scene, which you apparently love so much you can’t seem to stay away from it,” Madelyn said sweetly.
Sunny hit her sister, Madelyn laughed, and Emma supposed they wouldn’t mind if she let them have at each other. She was suddenly finding it difficult to breathe in and out without wheezing. She’d had her own reasons for coming to Scotland, and privacy had been very high on her own list, damn it anyway.
She wasn’t at all comfortable with how easily Sheldon had tracked her down.
She made the occasional bit of polite chitchat with the sisters as they drove to Madelyn’s house, tried not to gape at what was less a house and more a small castle, then followed the sisters inside. The first room she saw was apparently the great hall, though it was relatively cozy in spite of its size. She would have asked for details, but she was suddenly distracted by the sight of a large, thuggish-looking guy walking into the room with a kindergarten-age girl on his hip and a pair of squirming toddlers corralled under his other arm.
“Mum, Uncle Bobby isn’t going now, is he?” asked the older child.
Uncle Bobby
looked like he might need to get to the nearest brawl sooner rather than later, but Emma supposed it wouldn’t be polite to say as much.
“He’s got things to do, Hope,” Madelyn said as Uncle Bobby swung her down and promised her he would be around whenever she needed him but he was definitely not wearing pink nail polish no matter how much she whinged about it.
Sunny took one of the other toddlers, snuggled it close, then leaned closer to Emma. “One of Patrick’s bodyguards, not a relative,” she murmured. “Terrifying, isn’t he?”
“Very,” Emma managed. Bodyguards? Who had bodyguards up in the wilds of Scotland?
She wasn’t sure she wanted to know.
“The kids adore him,” Sunny continued. “He’s sort of like a huggable pit bull.”
Emma could understand how that might be a desirable thing in a babysitter. She would have felt perfectly safe walking through the roughest part of town if Uncle Bobby had been babysitting her.
“I’m going to try to get my little one here down for bed in the guest room,” Sunny said, “but I’ll be back in a bit.”
Emma looked at her seriously. “Honestly, Sunny, this is too much,” she began. “I don’t even know where I would begin to repay any of you—”
“If you knew what others had done for me over the past handful of years, you wouldn’t think this is much at all,” Sunny said seriously. “You’ll pay it forward, I’m sure, and you really would be doing Jamie a favor by staying in that cottage. I imagine Patrick’s already called him to work out details.” She shrugged. “You could offer him money, I guess, but he wouldn’t take it. When you meet him, you’ll see why. He’s laird of the glen, and you’ve stepped inside his borders.”
“Very, ah, monarchical.”
“And that, my friend, is the understatement of the year. I’ll give you my number before you go. We can get together for lunch in a few days and you can fill me in on what Seattle gossip we don’t get to tonight. Maddy will want to come, too, since she knows your ex. I’ll be back in a minute.”