The Highlander's Stolen Bride

by Melanie George

  “Come with me,” he ordered, his manner brooking no disobedience.

  “Are you taking me to see Derek?” Rosalyn asked.

  He didn’t feel it necessary to respond. As soon as she reached him, he took her none too gently by the arm and dragged her down the hall toward the solarium. Relief rushed through her. She would see Derek.

  The brother swung open the door of the solarium and pushed her inside. “Sit,” he barked, gesturing to a chair that had been placed in the room.

  Derek was awake, and her gaze held his as she made her way to the chair and sat down. “Are you all right?” she asked.

  “Quiet!” a voice boomed, bringing Rosalyn’s gaze around. She had not seen Kerry; her eyes had been on Derek alone. “I’m the only one who does the talking around here, unless I permit ye to speak.”

  “You always were a gasbag, Kerry,” Derek said through dry, cracked lips.

  “Ye’ll be quiet, lad, or you’ll be silenced permanently.”

  “If anything happens to me, you’ll have war on your hands. Is that what you want?”

  “I’m nae worried.” But he looked worried, Rosalyn noted, hoping it made him think twice.

  “Is this what your father would have wanted?” Derek asked.

  “Ye’ll leave my father out of this. He’s long dead and buried.”

  “He wanted peace between our clans. This is not the way to go about it.”

  “That’s your fault!” Kerry blared. “Ye should have married my sister and not let this tart”—he jabbed a finger in Rosalyn’s direction—“distract ye.”

  “Watch what you say,” Derek warned. “I’ll tell you this once. Rosalyn has nothing to do with my feelings for Megan. I’ve always been honest with her. Why don’t you ask her how she feels? I suspect you’ll be surprised.”

  “Her feelings are of no consequence. My father bade you two get married, and marry ye will.”

  “Let Rosalyn go. She’s not involved in this.”

  “Oh, but she is. She’s taken your affections away from my sister. Ye’ve broken the poor lass’s heart.”

  “I bet if you asked her, she’d tell you she doesn’t love me.”

  A thundercloud descended over Kerry’s visage as he stormed across the room and leaned down face to face with Derek. “Ye’ll marry my sister, ye blighted bastard, or I’ll—”

  The door suddenly banged open against the wall as another of Megan’s brothers entered. There really was no end to them.

  “Kerry!” he said urgently.

  “What, damn ye?”

  “Megan’s gone. She’s taken off with that one’s brother.” He pointed at Derek.

  “What!” Kerry shouted. “Taken off? Where? We locked her in—Oh, for the love of God. She didn’t escape out the window again? Tell me ye had guards posted below?”

  “Aye, and we put her in Da’s old room to keep her from going down the pipe again.”

  “So what happened?”

  “We forgot that Da’s room has the hidden panel.” He flushed, which was rather startling on a man of his size. “Megan must have gone through it into the other room and then sneaked down the back stairwell. She’s gone. Along with his brother,” he added in an ugly tone, narrowing his gaze at Derek as though he had something to do with Ethan and Megan’s disappearance.

  “This is priceless,” Derek said with a laugh.

  “You’ll shut up if ye ken what’s good for ye,” Kerry fumed. Rosalyn could almost see steam coming out of his ears. “Well,” he snapped at his brother, “why are ye just standin’ there? Go find her!”

  “There’s more.”

  “More what? Speak, fool!”

  “There was a note.”

  “Well, what the blazes does it say?”

  The brother swallowed and retrieved the crumpled piece of paper tucked inside his belt. Opening, he read:

  Dear Merry,

  I’ve abducted your sister and intend to have my way with her. She is a luscious morsel now that she has matured and blossomed in all the appropriate places.

  And so, merely to spite you, I will take your pain-in-the-rump sister and endeavor to turn her into a proper young woman. Then, if the feeling strikes me, I will marry her.

  Farewell for now, old man. Take care of my beloved sibling.

  Yours,

  The Highland Bastard

  Eighteen

  K erry’s roar of outrage resounded throughout the house. It didn’t help matters that Derek couldn’t stop laughing. Rosalyn caught his eye to silently chide him.

  Choking down his amusement, he said, “Well, Kerry, it seems you’ve been bested.”

  Kerry’s hands fisted tightly at his side. “I’ve nae been bested, ye filthy devil! I’ll find my sister and bring her back before that slimy brother of yours lays a single finger on her.”

  “If I know Ethan, he’ll do exactly as he says he’s going to do. So it seems you’ve gotten your sister married, just to the wrong brother. But you have succeeded in uniting our two families, so you’ve done your job.”

  “Megan won’t be marryin’ your bastard brother. That I vow!” He turned to his own brother, who still stood in the doorway clutching the piece of paper. “Send every man available out to search for them—and do not come back until you’ve found them.”

  The brother hastened away, and in the distance Rosalyn could hear the sounds of men gathering. She prayed Ethan was far away by now. She didn’t want to think about what would happen to him if Kerry’s men caught him.

  “Kerry,” Derek said, bringing the man’s gaze back to him. “Before you find my men at your door, I’d advise you to let me go. With all your reinforcements out looking for my brother and your sister, you certainly won’t be able to sustain a battle. End this now while I’m in a forgiving frame of mind.”

  Rosalyn could tell that Megan’s brother didn’t want to relinquish the fight, but with a deep-throated growl, he moved behind the chair and roughly undid the bindings.

  “There,” the man muttered. “Now get out. You’ve been the ruination of this family, and it won’t be forgotten.”

  Derek rubbed the feeling back into his arms as he rose from the chair. “Perhaps if you listened to your sister rather than dictating to her, you’d have fewer problems.”

  Rosalyn tugged Derek toward the door. “Let’s go before he changes his mind.”

  “I’ve known the man since we were children. He blows a lot of hot air, but he wouldn’t have killed me. He was just angry because he had lost control. Megan has always been a handful for him.”

  “Are you upset about Ethan and Megan?” Rosalyn asked.

  “Upset?” A half-grin lifted the corner of his lips as he looked down at her. His face was smudged with dirt, and a nasty bruise was developing around the outside of one eye, but he had never looked more endearing.

  “God, no,” he said. “I’m not even all that surprised.”

  “Why not?”

  He shrugged. “I’m starting to think that all the fighting between those two masked other feelings. Megan is a better match for Ethan than she ever was for me. A smile from her could get almost any man to do her bidding, but Ethan was never so easily lulled.

  “They are both a hell of a lot of work, though, and I think they’ll nearly kill each other before they figure out that they actually want each other. But eventually they will.”

  He was right. Both were hotheaded and stubborn and didn’t give their hearts easily, and they seemed to fit.

  She and Derek walked out the front door, and Rosalyn took a breath of the sweet afternoon air. Derek moved to the step in front of her and held her hands. “You came to my rescue. I thought that was my job.”

  “I couldn’t let the man hurt you.”

  “Why?”

  Rosalyn wanted to say what was in her heart, but couldn’t. “You helped me.”

  “So it had nothing to do with how you feel about me?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He was
flustering her, and would soon have her confessing things she shouldn’t. “Look! There’s Liam.”

  The stable lad was leading the horse and carriage toward them. “’Tis poorly ill you’re lookin’, m’lord,” the boy remarked, worried.

  “I’ve had better days,” Derek replied, patting the lad on the back.

  Derek handed Rosalyn up into the coach and followed her in. “I don’t relish the ruts we will be traversing. Perhaps you’ll allow me to lay my head in your lap? I feel a prodigious headache coming on.”

  She knew his request was a ruse, but she couldn’t bring herself to deny him. She patted her lap, and he didn’t hesitate.

  When he was settled, he smiled up at her. “How did you know where to find me?”

  “I can’t take all the credit,” she said, stroking the hair away from his face. “I didn’t even know you were missing until this morning, when I saw the statue.”

  He frowned. “What statue?”

  “The black marble one in the west wing. I assume it’s the object you were hit over the head with.”

  “Ah, that. I’m getting so used to being bludgeoned, I had forgotten.” His expression grew dark. “Someone in my own house wants me dead.”

  “Do you have any idea who it might be?”

  “Not a one. Unless…”

  “Unless?”

  “Ethan. He hates me enough to sell me to the highest bidder.”

  Rosalyn shook her head. “No, he was just as surprised as I was when I told him you were missing.”

  “Or he simply acted that way. Ethan has always been a master of pretense.”

  “I truly don’t think he had anything to do with your kidnapping. In fact, I imagine he’d announce it to all of Scotland if he had succeeded in besting you. Besides, what would he have gained?”

  Derek sighed heavily. “Why do you have to make so much sense? Let me believe the worst, would you?”

  Rosalyn tried to hide her smile as she gently wiped the dirt from his cheeks. “If that’s the case, then I don’t think you’ll want to hear this: I believe Ethan likes you much more than he lets on. He didn’t have to come today. You had thrown him out, after all, and he might have been justified in hoping that you rotted in your prison.”

  “Thank you,” he grumbled, playing with the lace around her bodice, a highly distracting tactic.

  “I also believe that you may harbor some actual brotherly feelings toward Ethan, though you are both too pigheaded to acknowledge them. Much better to go through life poking and prodding each other than to confess that you don’t wish the other to eternal damnation.”

  “Are you finished?”

  “Perhaps.”

  “May I kiss you, then?”

  She had been hoping he would. “You should conserve your strength.”

  “I’ve been sitting in a chair doing nothing but conserving my strength. I’d like to expend a little now.”

  “Well, if you really th—”

  He brought her mouth down to his and kissed her as though his entire life depended on it.

  Rosalyn returned his kiss with equal ardor. She’d been so afraid she would find him terribly hurt—or worse. Deep down, she was glad Megan had run off with Ethan.

  They were both breathless when the kiss ended. Rosalyn closed her eyes as Derek feathered his lips over her eyes, murmuring, “I wish you were in my bed right now.”

  She wished that, too. “We need to see to your injuries,” she said instead.

  “Bugger my injuries.”

  She lightly touched his scalp. “That cut is going to need a stitch or two.”

  “Later.”

  The coach rumbled to a stop, and Rosalyn said, “We’re home.” Home—the word rolled off her tongue with strange ease.

  Derek reluctantly sat up, a beautiful, rumpled sight. Rosalyn could not drink him in enough. He turned and caught her look and gave her a quirky smile. “A mess, eh?”

  “An utter disaster. Now, out with you.” Rosalyn pushed on his shoulder.

  “You’re a tough woman, you know that?”

  Rosalyn smiled to herself. “If you’re well enough to argue, you’re well enough to move your two feet down the coach steps. Unless you’d like me to summon Nathaniel to carry you?”

  Derek grunted, clearly not pleased that she refused to participate in his bout of self-pity. He exited the coach as Darius came trundling out the front door.

  “There ye are!” his uncle said, huffing from his brief exertion. “I knew those benighted Trelawnys would never be able to do ye in. I wasn’t worried a bit.”

  Derek regarded his uncle with a jaundiced eye. “And if I had been done in, what then?”

  “Well…” Darius’s brow furrowed in thought. “I don’t know. Guess I would have to take over.”

  “How convenient,” Derek drawled as he brushed by his uncle.

  Nathaniel stood gripping the edge of the door as he peered at Derek with wide, worried eyes.

  It appeared the boy had been crying, and Rosalyn’s heart went out to him. Her heart ached a little more when Derek stopped beside him, beat up and worn to the bone, but smiling reassuringly as he ruffled the child’s hair.

  “Have you been good today, Nate?”

  “Aye, sir.” He swallowed and peered up at Derek with eyes full of love and worship. “Are ye all right?”

  Derek nodded. “Right as rain. Just a little dirty from my trip.”

  “Will they come to get ye again?” he asked in a whispery voice.

  “Not if I can help it.” Derek brushed his knuckles down Nathaniel’s cheeks.

  Rosalyn nearly cried as she watched them walk side by side, Nathaniel slipping his small hand into Derek’s larger one.

  She turned to find Darius scowling. “Is something the matter?”

  His gaze jerked abruptly to hers, and he regarded her for an unnerving moment. “The lad’s too needy,” he answered brusquely. “He can’t be hangin’ on Derek like he does. The man has other things to contend with. But damn if I could get the guttersnipe away from the front door. Must have stood there for hours waiting for Derek to return.”

  “I think that’s sweet. He obviously needs a man in his life.”

  “Well, it can’t be Derek,” his uncle snapped and marched away.

  Rosalyn stared after him, surprised at his vehemence.

  She headed into the front hall to find Derek and his young charge at the top of the staircase. She was about to follow when Caroline appeared from the back hallway.

  “Has his lordship returned?” she queried, darting a quick glance around.

  “Yes. He’s back, safe and sound.”

  “So nothing happened to him, then?”

  “Nothing but a few bumps and bruises.”

  “I can see to that,” she said, lifting the hem of her skirt to start up the stairs.

  Rosalyn lightly touched her arm, stopping her. “There’s no need. If you would be so kind to bring up some warm water, clean toweling, and a needle and thread, that would be a wonderful help.”

  Caroline hesitated, then nodded, not meeting Rosalyn’s gaze as she headed back the way she had come.

  Rosalyn continued up the stairs. She felt sorry for Caroline, and she wondered if Derek had any idea the woman had feelings for him. Her opinion of him would be greatly lowered if he knew of Caroline’s feelings and ignored them.

  Rosalyn followed the sound of voices, mostly Nathaniel’s, down the hallway. His sweet little-boy squeak could be heard asking Derek repeatedly about how he felt and if he needed any help.

  Derek draped an arm around Nathaniel’s thin shoulders and pretended to accept his assistance, and Rosalyn loved him even more then.

  She stopped in her tracks. She liked Derek—but love? Never. She had to remember that.

  “Would ye like me to hold your hand while Lady Rosalyn sews up your head?” Nathaniel asked as she stepped into the bedroom.

  Her patient was pouring himself a drink from a bottle of whisky. She regarde
d him in silence until he put the glass down and went to the bed.

  “Taskmaster,” he grumbled as he dropped his head onto his pillow and folded his hands across his chest, glaring at her like a large child.

  “Nathaniel,” Rosalyn said softly, “would you help your mother bring the supplies? She should be coming down the hallway any moment.”

  Nate clearly didn’t want to leave Derek’s side, but Derek gave him a tap on his rump. “It’s all right, lad. I’ll be fine until you return.”

  Nathaniel reluctantly nodded and headed toward the door.

  When he was gone, Derek said, “Now, what’s that look for?”

  Rosalyn put her hands on her hips. “You should be ashamed of yourself. That boy is a wreck.”

  “What did I do?” he asked incredulously.

  Rosalyn sat on the bed and began undoing the buttons on his shirt. “Can’t you see the fear in his eyes? He thinks you’re about to die.”

  “I wanted him to feel like he was helping.”

  “Well…do it differently,” she huffed, peeling back his shirt to check his chest for any abrasions.

  “What’s gotten into you?”

  “Nothing.” Something was making her emotions bubble to the surface. Perhaps she was finally allowing herself to feel the fear she had held back before.

  “Ouch,” he groused when she probed his scalp. He took hold of her wrist, bringing her gaze to his. Instead of finding anger, his eyes held a familiar softness. “I’ll be fine, Rosalyn. I’m not going anywhere.”

  Shockingly, tears brimmed in her eyes. “I know.”

  “Today must have been hard on you.”

  No words would come. She just shook her head and looked anywhere but in his eyes.

  She started when his palm settled on her cheek. “It’s all right,” he murmured.

  “You’re all bloody.” Emotions clogged her throat, and she hated herself for not being the strong woman he had often applauded.

  “Rosalyn,” he said, stopping her as she began to rise.

  She prayed Nathaniel would return and save her from her own shameful display. “I have to get the supplies.”

  But he tugged her back down next to him. “They can wait. I need you to know that I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I imagine you’re more frightened than ever right now. I’m sorry I didn’t see it sooner, but I was a bit bleary-headed.”