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Passion and Plaid - Her Highland Hero (Scottish Historical Romance)

Page 14

by Karin, Anya


  Kenna quirked one of her eyebrows, and the mayor took the meaning.

  “I’ll be clear. I know you listened more closely to the meeting with the East India Company men than you let on, and I know that since there aren’t any of my roses in your chambers, you were just playing at picking them to listen to what myself and your old nemesis were talking about.”

  He smiled the same even, haunting smile that he’d shown for so much of their time together. “What do you want to know? What is it you aim to do here, Miss Moore?” He took another bite, a hunk of grey meat and a little bit of limp squash, or maybe it was a turnip. The color of the stuff on his fork very nearly matched his eyes.

  “Well to be perfectly honest, when we got here my aim was to stay the night and be on my way. The plan was to be in Fort Mary by now and sleeping in my parents’ house waiting for my wedding to the most wonderful man I’ve ever known.” As she spoke, Kenna felt hear heart flutter. Just the thought of Gavin and his sweet smile, his easy, gentle eyes and that long, wavy, brown hair was enough to make her feel a little less nervous. “But when I heard about the taxes and about the plantation, I couldna just let it lie.”

  “Plantation?” The word, the question, hung in the air like a sharpened iron hook. “And what plantation would this be?”

  “The one you’re building,” Kenna said before she could stop herself. “At least, that’s what I’ve gathered you’re building with the land you’re clear cutting. Er, Councillor.”

  He laughed at her formal addendum. “Is that what they say? The townspeople – is that what they think?”

  “Aye,” Kenna said, not knowing what else to do. “They say that you’re taxing them to drive them out of business, and then they expect you’ll force them to work-”

  “This is quite a plan. In fact, it’s such a devious one that I wish it were real. But thank you, Kenna. I see that my behavior has planted a deal of doubt in the minds of the people. The reality is nothing so interesting as that. The reality – do you wish to hear it?”

  “Y – yes of course, Councillor.”

  “Right. To be direct, I’ve got to get away from here. I can’t stay. You know about my daughter, about the brigands, and if I’m being honest, I don’t think this little burg has anywhere to go but back to the land. The soil isn’t very good, the people are...slothful and indolent. I just don’t see the use in staying.”

  “And so you’re planning to leave? It all makes sense, the Company men here, you selling them lumber for ships, and-”

  “I should say that was my plan until an old acquaintance gave me another idea. Leaving just isn’t in the cards, as they say. Overseas investment, however, is just wise. But no, I’ll be staying for the foreseeable future.” He leaned forward almost menacingly, his fingers curling against the table top, scratching gently on the wood. “I am, however, buying a deal of land in the Caribbean to act as an investment. That’s what all this is, an investment.”

  Kenna’s gaze fixed on Willard’s nose. The tip went up and down as he spoke. “Investment? I thought this was just a ploy to use the land around here as a tree farm for the Company. Is my thinking wrong?”

  “Oh yes, quite,” Willard smiled. “I have been buying up land all around here partially for what you say. The Company is buying a great deal of wood from me for ships. But that’s not all. After all – why would I burn the grass if I was just cutting wood?”

  “Aye, the thought had occurred to me.”

  “One can only chop wood one time. However, cleared land is valuable forever. Especially if you use it to store things. Do you follow?”

  “I’m sorry, I don’t,” Kenna said as Rollo reappeared and dropped her notebook on the table. The pencil, she noticed, was missing, as well as about half the pages. If she could have jumped up and kissed him on the mouth, she would have.

  Willard rubbed his hands together absently. “I intend to create a small shipping business. Earlier, you mentioned my building a plantation. That is an extravagance I don’t have the resources for. Yet. I’m buying a sugar refinery in Jamaica. Once that’s done, I plan to erect a manufacturing and storage facility here. Does it become more clear?”

  He stood and put his fingers on the top of the table, resting his weight on them. “I refine the product in the islands, then ship it here, where it sits until I have a buyer.”

  “Circumventing the need for the Company at all,” Kenna said with a vacant tone.

  “Exactly. And, the shipping will all be done on a ship the Company paid me to build in the first place, so I’ll get a portion of whatever they deliver elsewhere, per the agreement we made.”

  “Sir, I’ve found Miss Kenna’s book. Is there anything else I can do for you?” Rollo cut in when Willard paused.

  “No, I think not. We’re finished here though, so you can summon the help to clear the table.”

  “Certainly sir, would you like tea?”

  “Yes, please,” the mayor said as he stood. “We’ll take it in the gardens.”

  “There are things about me that you’ll need to come to understand, Kenna,” Willard said, crossing his arms behind his back and holding an elbow in each hand. He stopped in his tracks, and she did the same.

  “I’m not accusing you of anything, Councillor. I know how hard things have been for you with living here and all that since the tragedy with your daughter, so please dinna think I blame you for mourning. But the people in the town, and, if you’ll recall that fellow from the day I saw you in court, who was quite upset, what I’m saying rings true in his case as well.”

  “Speak your mind, woman,” he said. “I grow tired of this conversation.”

  Kenna swallowed and pursed her lips. “Is there some hurry, sir?”

  “It would hardly be proper not to tell you, since you’re involved, I suppose. I did want to keep it a secret though, at least until tomorrow. I’d hate for you to faint, though. You know tomorrow is the festival day – or the beginning of two of them, yes?”

  “Aye, I do,” she said. “The whole town’s tittering with talk of it.”

  “As they always are, of course. And by the way, for all the complaints you’ve apparently heard since your arrival, have any of them ever stated who pays for the festival? All the beer and the whisky these sots drink? All the food they eat?”

  “I assumed it was a town effort, where everyone brings some things and the people all share?”

  Willard shook with laughter. “No, beautiful Miss Moore, I think not. It comes from my pocket.”

  Kenna wanted to say ‘though it all does come from theirs in the first place, does it not?’ but refused herself the indulgence. Instead, she said, “I’m quite looking forward to it. Assuming your surprise doesn’t keep me from going?”

  “Oh no, no, of course not. I think I’d truly be as awful a villain as you believe me to be if I were to refuse you the right to be at the festival celebrating your own marriage. Impending marriage, I suppose is more accurate.”

  “Mayor? My marriage? I thought you were keeping me away from Gavin by having me kept here and not at the inn with the rest of them. To dedicate an entire festival to my wedding is simply unexpected. I canna thank you enough – and at the same time, I’m petrified with embarrassment at some of the things I’ve said.”

  “Oh that’s quite alright. How were you to know? And it’s true, what they say, though I doubt the validity of the townspeople’s incessant complaining. I have raised the taxes, and so on, of late. But I think I’d be equally remiss if I didn’t qualify and clarify, what I’ve just said.”

  “Of course, though I thought it was perfectly clear what you said. I’m just a bit shocked that you’re doing this for me.”

  “I’m doing one better than you think. And remember, you can give all the credit for this brilliant idea to someone you’d probably rather not think about too much, given his foul habits and fouler mouth.”

  “The sheriff, you mean? He dreamt up this kindness?”

  “Yes, indeed
he did. He reminded me that in the worst of times, the Roman emperors could subvert any sort of general unrest that could pop up – disease, plague, famine – with a simple celebration. Normally they were trumped up, many times they were cruel and blood soaked, but nothing was ever quite so popular amongst the common people as a wedding.”

  “Ach, well, I canna thank you enough for-”

  “No, Kenna,” he said turning to her and snatching one of her hands. “I can’t thank you enough. What a wonderful opportunity you’ve afforded me. Me and the people of this town. And it’s for them that truly I do this.”

  Something about his smile gnawed at Kenna’s soul. All she could do was meekly ask if Gavin was going to be extended an invitation. When she asked, a haunting smile crept across Willard’s face.

  “Oh yes, dear, he has been. Rollo delivered the invitation already. He reported that the lot of your friends seemed quite excited, though Gavin was a little combative even before he read the note. But Kenna, that’s what I need to clarify.”

  “You haven’t done anything to him, have you?” Her hands shook as she tried to pull away from Willard, but found herself held fast.

  “Not at all,” he chuckled. “But it’s not him you’ll be marrying. It’ll be someone much more worthy of your beauty, your intelligence and your charm?”

  Trembling hands turned to involuntarily chattering teeth. Once again she opened her mouth and found no words.

  “We’ll be celebrating our marriage, Kenna dear.”

  Kenna’s jaw was the first thing that hit the ground. The rest of her went quickly after. “Rollo! Please, come move my fiancée to her chambers. She seems to have caught a chill and fallen over.” The mayor stepped over the unconscious woman lying at his feet and looked up to the second floor of his estate, and to a window that was lit and open.

  “That went well,” Alan shouted as he came into view and immediately spat out of the window. “But I’m warning you, don’t underestimate that band of ruffians. They’ll make more problems than you can imagine.”

  Without responding, Willard squeezed his hands. “Oh, I wouldn’t worry too much about that. The instant we see them, you’re going to arrest them. That’s what you do, isn’t it, sheriff? Arrest people?”

  “With pleasure,” Alan said, unleashing another stream onto the ground below. “With pleasure, mayor.”

  Fourteen

  Mornay’s Cleft Inn

  August 19, Early Morning

  “What on God’s green earth do you have me wearing?” Gavin said, wrenching himself to help Olga shove him into a complex series of twisted clothing. “I’ve never seen such a costume before. I thought we’d just be wearing hoods. I didn’t expect a full complement of leather armor. And anyway, won’t we stand out even more if we’re in intricate costumes?”

  “Mister Gavin,” she clicked her teeth as she spoke and yanked his arm. “We must make sure you’re all well-disguised. As I understand it, costumes are a tradition for the festival, though yours needs to be a bit more intricate to keep you hidden. Just be glad you’re not Rodrigo. He’s got the worst of it, and he’s been getting worked over for hours. Elena insisted he be ready early.”

  “When can I see what sort of humiliation you’ve done to me?”

  “You’ll know what you’re dressed as. You remember the rules, Mister Gavin. No outlawed plaid and no poking fun at the mayor. Past that, we’ve got all the freedom in the world to make you all up so that no one will recognize you.”

  “If you expect to fool either Kenna or the sheriff, it’ll be quite a job,” he added. “Rather important that he not know who we are.”

  “Yes, of course,” she said, putting a brush in her teeth and beginning to mumble around it as she put some sort of paste on Gavin’s forehead that she explained would keep the hood in place.

  “So there is a hood, then?” He couldn’t help but smile and think of just how much he’d warmed up to Olga since they met. “I can’t...I can’t stop thinking about her, Olga. About Kenna, I mean.”

  She smiled her broad smile. “I didn’t imagine you meant anyone else. You’re good at hiding, you know? Everything will be fine. There are only so many ways to worry about a person before you start going crazy.”

  “I know. I just can’t stop thinking about how much has changed in such a short time. Just think, a fortnight ago we were in Edinburgh, you and Kenna and Elena were getting ready for a dinner party, and I hadn’t even a clue that my beloved was in town, only a few miles from where I was.”

  Olga smiled, patted him on the shoulder. “You know, I think it isn’t surprising. How fast everything happened, I mean.”

  “Aye?”

  “Mhm. It is what was always meant to be, so when you saw her, things simply fell into place. Don’t you believe in fate?”

  “No. Well, I should say I didn’t. Not before I saw Kenna and couldn’t take my eyes off her and then spent the next three nights dreaming about her. Now, I’m not so sure what it is I believe.”

  “To me,” Olga said with a smile in her voice, “that sounds like fate.”

  “Ow! Watch what you’re doing! And why in the Hell are you pulling my hair so hard? Ow!” John had his shoulders pinched up so tightly that he was beginning to get a cramp as Lynne cheerfully brushed out, then yanked, and then braided another handful of his hair. The whole time, she was whistling.

  Suddenly, John began to hate whistling.

  “Stop,” he said. “I canna take anymore!”

  “Anymore of what, dear?” Lynne whistled louder, tugged on his hair, and giggled when he screeched. “Why do you keep shouting so loudly? You’d think someone was pulling your hair and tying it into knots.”

  “You are!”

  “Oh, well then. Would you look at that! Be quiet, I’m almost done, and then...”

  “And then what? You’re going to make love to me and I’ll forget all about the agony you’ve caused?”

  “Goodness no, John! And muss up all this beautiful costuming. No, what I was going to say was that as soon as your hair is finished, it’ll be time to paint you all up in the woad.”

  John took a deep breath through his nose and blew it out at a slow, measured pace. “Woad? You think I’m going to let you paint me blue?”

  “Ach! What sort of an ancient Celtic warrior would fight the Roman legions and not be painted in the woad?”

  Another heavy sigh made her laugh ever harder. “You’re lucky I’m letting you wear clothes.”

  “I am, eh? I think instead that you’re lucky I’m letting you wear clothes!” He reached over, pulled her onto his lap and started tugging at her clothes as though to disrobe her, which got her squealing with laughter as loud as his carrying on had been.

  “Ach! Goodness aren’t you a vile creature!” She stood, straightened her clothes, cleared her throat and pretended to regain her dignity, “Yes you’re lucky I’m letting you go in this costume plaid instead waggling in the wind. I’m sure you’re glad Duggan found this old thing. Said you’re allowed to wear it as long as it’s not Mornay tartan. That’s the second luckiest thing you’ve had happen.”

  “What’s the first?”

  “Your finding me. Obviously.”

  John groaned out loud, but even as he did, pulled Lynne back onto his lap. “How long until we have to leave?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “Aye, it does,” John said, kissing her on the back of the neck as she twisted away. “How long?”

  “I meant only that it wouldn’t matter. Four minutes would be plenty.” She whispered in his ear with her most seductive, husky voice. A moment later, John stood up, grabbed Lynne around the waist and tossed her backwards to the bed.

  He hopped up, face against hers, and pushed her lips apart, and quickly explored her with his tongue. Lynne’s eyes fell closed. She wrapped her arms around him, and flattened her palms against the warmth of his back. Softly, she gasped as he moved against her, warmth creeping up her belly to her neck.

 
; “Promise me one thing, John,” she said as the breath hitched in her throat.

  “Aye?”

  “Stay as predictable as you are right now.”

  A short laugh burst out of her, but John smothered it with another kiss, then another.

  “What is it you suppose those two are doing?”

  “You know them, most likely having a go at one another. Remember those days?” Elena asked him as she adjusted his very old, and very fancy, frock-coat and tugged his laced sleeves out of the vest.

  “Remember them?”

  “We weren’t always so sedate, Rodrigo.”

  He took Elena’s hand and held it in his, pressed his lips first to her palm, then to her wrist. “I only replied as I did because I don’t think we’re so sedate at all.” He made his way to her inner elbow with a trail of soft, brushing kisses.

  “Rodrigo, Rodrigo.” She smiled warmly putting a hand on either side of her husband’s face. “If it weren’t for my having known you for all these years, I would swear you were trying to seduce me.”

  He grunted a laugh. “Isn’t it knowing me for all those years what makes you able to be sure?”

  After they were still for a moment, and Elena had tied Rodrigo’s short ponytail up with a ribbon, just as it would have been done on the Continent.

  “Rod, I...I want you to be careful while you fence. I keep thinking that something bad will happen.”

  “Nonsense, dear. These people, the Scots, as much as I love them, they’re not a fencing people. They’re used to big weapons that can crush a man. Or little ones that go between his ribs. I have been using this,” he slid his long, ornately carved rapier from the leather scabbard and ran his finger along the flat of the blade, “since I was young enough to stand. I direct it like most men direct their arms to point. You know this. And anyway, the contest won’t be done bare. Unless this is a truly barbaric place, the contestants will have armor sufficient to turn the tip of a rapier. We might even be forced to fight using blunted weapons.”

 

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