“I could tell him your childhood nickname,” Cora said with a twinkle.
Edie snorted. “Go right ahead. I’ll just push you off the nearest mountain when we reach the Highlands. No one will ever hear from you again.”
Smiling at their banter, Alec ushered Edie down the corridor to the side door of the old coaching inn. The Angel Hotel was a busy stop along the Old North Road. Over a hundred horses were stabled behind the rambling, whitewashed building that held a large number of guest rooms and private parlors in addition to its public rooms. It was the most genteel and expensive establishment in Wetherby and was spared the comings and goings of the Royal Mail, which changed at an inn down the street.
As much as he could, Alec wished to spare Edie and her mother the discomforts of long-distance travel. They were unhappy enough without having to spend their nights on musty sheets, awakened every few minutes by a coachman’s horn. Though Alec was spending a pile of blunt to finance this trip, since he’d adamantly refused Lord Reese’s generous offer to pay the expenses, it would barely make a dent in his wallet. After he was buried away in the Highlands, there wouldn’t be much worth spending his money on anyway.
“It’s just one good laugh after another with my family, isn’t it?” Edie said wryly as she took his arm and headed into the High. “But Cora doesn’t mean to be disrespectful. In fact, I don’t know what I would have done if she hadn’t agreed to come on this trip. I’ve grown quite dependent on her, especially since . . .” She trailed off.
“The separation from your sister?” he finished. “It’s certainly understandable.”
He tucked her close, relishing the feel of her next to him. She was lush, vibrant, and full of energy. No mincing for her, like some pampered lady more concerned with elegance than exercise. Edie had a long, athletic stride that spoke of enthusiasm for physical activity and time spent outdoors. She was built for walking in the Highlands, sturdy and strong. She was not at all a die-away miss, like so many of the girls he’d met in London.
She let out a sigh. “You’re very kind, but I know you must be heartily sick of us all. I’m sorry we placed such a weighty burden on you. And I am truly grateful. You didn’t deserve to have me, Mamma, and our servants foisted on you for five months.”
She was back to sounding anxious. Though Alec enjoyed the occasional glimpse of feminine vulnerability, he disliked it when she sounded so unsure of herself. He’d always admired Edie’s confidence and assertive wit, and he hated to think that the events of the last few weeks had eroded those qualities.
He didn’t answer immediately as he steered her past the inelegantly named Black Pig Tavern and dodged a small herd of cattle being driven south toward the river. He drew her to a halt in the doorway of a linen draper’s shop so they were out of the flow of the still-busy High.
“Why are we stopping?” she asked. “Are you tired of me already?”
Uncharacteristically, her gaze darted away, as if she were suddenly interested in the bolts of fabric in the shop window. When he slid a finger along her jaw, tipping up her chin, she jerked a bit, her blue eyes widening. Her gaze was intent and wary, as if she were bracing for something unpleasant.
“Miss Whitney,” he said, “I am honored to help you. I want you to be clear about that, and about how much I enjoy your company.”
It was the simple truth.
She blinked several times and her pretty mouth rounded into a surprised oval. It looked so lush and tempting that he had to fight the urge to kiss her.
“That’s rather unexpected,” she said. “I always thought you found me to be a great deal of trouble.”
He grinned. “I do, but you’re the kind of trouble a man can get used to.”
She blushed, but then her mouth curved up into a sly smile. “And what about Mamma? Do you also find her worth the trouble?”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” he said, as he guided her back onto the street. “Still, she’s turned out to be a better traveler than I expected.”
“Mamma’s tough as old boots. Which is not to say that this winter won’t be a challenge.” She threw him an assessing glance. “I do hope your grandfather won’t be put out by having strangers foisted upon him for an extended visit.”
Alec was certain that his grandfather would be very put out. He’d written the earl a brief missive just before their party left London so the old fellow had no opportunity to fire back a refusal. He could only hope that his grandfather would be so happy to see him that he would overlook the two Sassenach women invading his stronghold.
“I’m sure it will be fine. Besides, I’m not really giving him any choice.”
Her brows lifted. “That isn’t very reassuring. What’s he going to do—chase us off with a dirk?”
“Don’t worry. I’ll protect you,” he said with a grin.
“It sounds very much like we will be a burden,” she said with a grimace. “How will I ever be able to repay you?”
Alec could think of several ways, none of them appropriate topics for polite conversation.
“You could start by telling me your childhood nickname,” he suggested.
When she stopped dead and stared at him, Alec had to yank her out of the way of a curricle careening toward them. She glanced around, startled, which was another indication of the perils posed by her bad eyesight. He needed to do something about that when they reached Glasgow.
When they were walking again, he prompted her. “Now, about that nickname.”
“Are you really going to make me reveal such a gruesome bit of history?”
“You did say you owed me, did you not?”
She let out an exaggerated sigh, but then grinned. “Very well. It was Butterball. I was Butterball one and Evie was Butterball two.”
He laughed. “Who saddled you with that?”
“My brother. Mamma was furious, but one couldn’t really blame him. We were quite round when we were little, and Mamma loved dressing us in puffy dresses in shades of cream and yellow. I’m sure we greatly resembled something popped out of a butter mold.”
She looked perfectly delectable now, with her blue pelisse that was buttoned snugly over her generous breasts and fell softly over her rounded hips and arse. She might have been a rotund little girl, but she’d grown into a luscious woman with a sweet face and generous curves that cried out to be shaped by a man’s hands.
“I’m sure you and Evie were simply delightful.”
“I’m sure we weren’t. In fact, I was always getting us into one scrape after another, probably to counteract the horror of our nickname and our clothing. Sadly, poor Evie took the blame for our exploits, though.”
Edie sighed, a genuine one this time. Alec figured she was thinking about her twin and how much she missed her, and he wished he could take her in his arms and cuddle her. But since they were on a public street and since she would probably slap him if she realized what he was thinking, he confined his reaction to a sympathetic silence.
She shook off the memory with a smile. “Where are we going, by the way? Mamma would not countenance gaming hells or dens of iniquity, so I suggest something a little tamer.” She peered around at the tidy, gray-stoned shops lining the High. “Not that Wetherby seems to run to debauchery.”
“We might find iniquitous behavior in some of the public houses, but let’s confine ourselves to a sedate walk to the river. There’s an old bridge and a view that might be worth looking at.”
“Even Mamma couldn’t object to that. In fact, I wonder how we will be able to prevent ourselves from dozing off from boredom.”
“I’ll do my best to keep you entertained with an agreeable flow of witticisms. As soon as I can think of any.”
“Perhaps you can entertain me with your brogue,” she said. “I am always vastly amused when you adopt it.”
He grinned. “Vastly annoyed, more like it.”
“Why do you find it necessary?” she asked, now serious. “I’ve never understood the purpose of it. You’re c
learly as well educated as the average male aristocrat—”
“—Which is to say, not very educated at all.”
She flashed a quick smile. “Point taken. But I know from Evie that you are indeed educated. You speak French, Spanish, and Portuguese, besides knowing the usual Greek and Latin. Wolf also told me that you’re a talented draftsman and a rather good historian. Surely your ridiculous brogue doesn’t fool anyone with half a brain.”
Alec couldn’t repress a flare of satisfaction that she’d made a point of finding out more about him. She might pretend to be disinterested but all indications suggested otherwise.
He gave her a broad wink. “Nae, lassie, ye’ll not be winkling all me secrets out of me, now will ye?”
She groaned. “Please, don’t even joke. It’s like someone scratching fingernails across a chalkboard.”
He laughed. “You’d better get used to it, since you’ll be hearing it for months.”
“Surely not in that horrifically exaggerated manner?”
“You’d be amazed at how effective it can be.”
“It’s hard to believe. You sound so silly when you do it.”
“That’s the point. I play to people’s assumptions and bigotries. You’d be amazed how many Englishmen—and others—that I was able to put off guard by acting like a big, Scottish oaf.”
She winced, probably recalling the times she’d called him a big oaf to his face. “How ghastly of us. Although I will say that your brogue seems to have the opposite effect on the ladies.”
“Aye, lassie, that it does,” he said, waggling his eyebrows at her.
She let out a reluctant laugh. “Tell me, did you go to Eton?”
“No, but I did have an excellent tutor in my father. He’s a noted scholar and was responsible for most of my education.”
“That’s both convenient and cost-effective.”
“My grandfather would agree with you.”
“Where did you go to university? Was it Oxford or Cambridge, or did you attend in Edinburgh?”
He glanced at her upturned face, alive with curiosity, and wondered exactly how much to reveal to her. Since she would find out about his youthful adventures sooner or later he might as well be the one to tell her. That way he could present the information in its most favorable light.
“I never went to university,” he said.
“Oh, then I suppose your father tutored you until you joined the army?”
“Not exactly.”
She rolled her eyes. “Must you always be so cryptic? I do realize that you’re a spy—”
“I was a spy.”
“Was a spy,” she amended. “That surely means that you no longer have to dole out information in dribs and drabs. Why are you being so deliberately obtuse?”
“I’ll tell you in a minute,” he said.
They were approaching the bridge, which curved out over the river like a humpbacked sea creature. It narrowed down from the road, compressing traff ic, and Alec held her back until a phaeton badly driven by a young, clearly jug-bitten buck drove across in their direction. A lumbering mail coach followed, topped by several passengers. When the noise and the dust died down, he led her to the upstream side of the bridge.
They propped their elbows on the parapet and gazed at the river swirling below them. A manor house in a faded shade of yellow with an incongruously cheery red roof graced the north bank. In the meadow running along the other bank rested a herd of shaggy Highland cattle, no doubt headed south to the London markets. It was a peaceful, bucolic scene that Alec found boring as hell—probably because it reminded him of what would be awaiting him back home. As far as he was concerned, the only point of interest in the bloody town stood beside him.
“It’s very pretty,” Edie said. “Or at least I think it is. It’s a bit hard for me to tell in the fading light. But I love the sound of the water rushing over the weir.”
“Why in God’s name do you insist on going through life half-blind?” Alec asked. “Do you not want to see what’s going on around you?”
She flicked away his comment with an impatient hand. “I will admit that having the eyesight of a mole is occasionally inconvenient, but I have no desire to discuss the issue with you any more than I already have. Now, it’s time for you to answer my question, is it not?”
He turned his back on the river, resting both his elbows on the parapet. She adopted the same pose.
“I didn’t go to school because I ran away from home when I was sixteen,” he said. “And I didn’t join the army for another two years.”
Her eyes popped comically wide as she stared at him. “You did what?”
“I said I ran away from home. I didn’t realize you had trouble with your hearing as well as your vision.”
She flapped a hand again. “There’s no reason to get testy about it. Goodness, I can’t imagine many boys in your position doing something so outrageous. Why did you?”
This was the tricky part. “Because my grandfather wanted me to do something I didn’t want to do,” Alec hedged.
She crossed her arms over her bonny chest, waiting for more. When he didn’t supply it, she shook her head with exasperation. “That’s it? The sum total of why you ran away from the only home you’d ever known?”
He raised his hands as if to say, What else could there be?
“You are so annoying,” she muttered. “If you won’t tell me why, perhaps you’ll tell me where you ran.”
“London first. From there I managed to find my way to Naples, and then on to Greece and eventually Persia with the British Consul.”
His words had Edie jerking upright. “Truly? You’ve been to Greece?”
“I have indeed.”
“I’ve always wanted to go to Greece. You simply must tell me all about it.” Her pretty face glowed with excitement.
Alec wanted to capture her lips in a devouring kiss, drinking in her energy and zest for life. “It was rather dusty and exceedingly hot. You’d hate it.”
She wrinkled her nose at him. “I do tend to wilt in the heat. I suppose Evie told you that. But I still wish I could see Greece someday.”
He smiled at her. “Perhaps you will.”
He’d loved those two years, though the work had sometimes been backbreaking and the conditions primitive. For the first time in his life he’d been on his own, doing what he wanted to do and not what his grandfather wanted for him. That adventure of a lifetime had only ended when duty had called him to join the army. But where one adventure had ended, another had begun. He’d never imagined himself leading the life of a spy, but the dangers and the challenges had suited him perfectly.
“And from there you went into the army, I suppose,” Edie said. “Is that where you met Wolf?”
“Yes, he and I worked together on most of our missions. Almost seven years as partners and friends.” More than that—they were family, related both by blood and the unusual circumstances of their births. “Christ, I’ll miss that great stupid bastard.”
Then he realized what he’d just said. “Forgive my language, Miss Whitney. Feel free to box my ears.”
She laid a hand on his forearm. Even through her gloves and the layers of fabric, he swore he could feel the heat of her touch.
“I understand,” she said, her eyes soft with sympathy. “Wolf is like a brother to you.”
“Aye, that he is.” Then he shrugged, feeling a bit uncomfortable with all this emoting. “But Wolf’s on to other things now, as am I. Life goes on.”
She absently pushed back a lock of hair that had strayed out from under her bonnet to tickle her cheek. He found himself missing her hand on him.
“And in all those years, you’ve never gone back to Scotland?” she asked.
He shook his head.
“Why not? Are you still estranged from your family?”
“No, I’ve seen my father several times in London over the years, and my grandfather and I write to each other regularly.”
She started
to look frustrated again, obviously because he was once more doling out only bits of information.
“What aren’t you telling me?” she asked suspiciously. “I know you don’t want to return home. Evie told me. But what exactly are you avoiding?”
Might as well get it over with.
“I’m avoiding my fiancée,” he said. “Technically, Miss Whitney, I have been betrothed for the last ten years. That’s why I ran away from Scotland in the first place.”
Her mouth dropped open and she stared at him for what seemed an eternity. Then she snapped it shut, only to open it again a moment later. “Get out of my way, you great Scottish oaf.”
She shoved past him and stomped her way back up the High.
Chapter Six
“Are you sure you’re not feeling better, Mamma?” Edie asked. “After all, you’ve spent the last three days in bed. The physician thinks you’re coming along quite splendidly.”
Mamma rarely fell ill, but when she did she did so with style, taking to her bed with dramatic pronouncements and availing herself of a steady diet of medicinal cordials and powders. Edie had always suspected it was a temporary retreat from the pressures of her position as one of the premier hostesses of the ton. Though Lady Reese might not have the wealth and political influence of the leading doyennes, she made up for it with sheer stubborn will and a canny knack for toadying up to those who could do her the most good.
Edie knew that Mamma’s ambitions were not for herself but for her children. She wanted all of them to make a better marriage than she’d had, moving up into the higher levels of the British aristocracy. Though Papa was the best and kindest of men, to Mamma he was little better than a country squire, happy to be puttering around his orchards and visiting with the tenant farmers. His lack of ambition for his family drove his wife absolutely demented.
She leaned against the carved oak bedpost and gave her mother an encouraging smile. “Dr. Grant thought you’d be well enough to travel tomorrow, since we have only one day’s drive to Blairgal Castle.”
How to Marry a Royal Highlander Page 7