One Hot Scot

by Suzanne Enoch

  No, having her send her letter asking for her kin to come and fetch her and keeping her hidden in the meantime was the only solution that made any sense. And it had nothing to do with the fact that she was pretty as summer and brave to boot. It had nothing to with the fact that she was more than likely ruined, and that he wasn’t … content with the idea of sending so unexpected a female away. It was, quite simply, the correct thing to do.

  “I believe it’s your move, Duncan,” she said, shaking him out of his thoughts.

  That it was. He shifted another pawn, making a wall, and for a time they sat and played and talked about nothing more pressing than the weather and Scottish weddings. She could likely use the time to gather her own thoughts, and the devil knew he had some things to consider, as well. She was a piss-poor player, but he didn’t much mind that. When he played against Keavy, he made certain she won often enough to keep her from getting discouraged.

  “Ye said ye were here with yer mother and sister,” he finally asked. “What of yer father?”

  “He stayed in London for the Season. He’s … a viscount. Lord Prentiss. So he has to attend Parliament. And he said that while Scotland might be my idea of a gift, he would prefer a quiet household for a few weeks.” She looked from the chessboard to him. “What of your parents? You said you had a grandmother.”

  “Aye. Grandmama Maevis. She’s my father’s mother. Both my parents died aboot seven years ago, when the fever came through one winter.”

  “Oh, my goodness. I’m so sorry.”

  Duncan shrugged, watching her fingers fiddle with a rook. “They went together, as they would have wished it. And I was already two-and-twenty, so the lasses had someone to look after ’em.” At the time he hadn’t been nearly as circumspect, but she didn’t need to know that. When she moved a pawn to block his knight, he countered with a bishop. “How old is yer sister?”

  “Elizabeth? She’s sixteen. That’s the one thing I’m grateful for—that Bellamy snatched me rather than her. She’ll still be able to have her debut and dance and flirt, as any young lady wants to do.”

  “But none of that’s left for ye? Ye’re what, nineteen? Hardly on the shelf, lass.”

  “I’m one-and-twenty, and I’ve been missing for five days. And I was last seen in the unchaperoned company of an unmarried man. There was also the elopement letter he left on my behalf. We cannot forget that.” Her fingers curled around the rook as if she wanted to choke the life out of it.

  He could hardly blame her for that. “But if ye yell to the world that ye were taken against yer will, willnae that make a difference?”

  Julia grimaced, releasing the rook in favor of a knight. “Some, perhaps. I’m still marriageable because of my dowry. But I’ll be looked at askance and whispered about, and other ladies won’t invite me over for tea.” A tear ran down one cheek, and she brushed it away. “I can manage the gossip, as long as it doesn’t hurt Elizabeth.”

  “Ye shouldnae have to manage it at all. None of this was yer doing, for St. Bridget’s sake.”

  “That, Duncan, doesn’t really matter. Thank you for saying it, though.” She picked up a black knight and showed it to him. “Did you think this would be you today?”

  He chuckled. “A black knight? Nae a white knight?”

  She grinned back at him. “Well, you were naked.”

  “Aye. That I was.” Meeting her gaze, he shifted another chess piece. In all honesty, he wasn’t certain which one it was or if the move was even legal.

  The door behind him rattled, the entire wall shuddering beneath a hard fist.

  Christ in heaven. He jumped, and Julia sucked in a breath as though she thought it might be her last. “It’s barred,” he reminded her, scooping the chess pieces up and tossing them back into their box. Grabbing both them and the board he strode to the bed and pushed it aside, then lifted the trap door and tossed the game pieces into the hole. “In with ye,” he whispered, taking her fingers to help her down. They shook in his big paw, and he squeezed a little. He handed down her nearly empty bowl of stew and her teacup, then smiled encouragingly at her.

  The sight of large brown eyes gazing up at him as he closed her into the darkness would stay with him forever, he thought, scattering straw and moving the bed back. As a louder, more insistent pounding began at the door, he shoved back the bedcovers, stripped out of his shirt, and dumped it into the chair Julia had occupied a moment ago. Then he pulled off one boot, ruffled his hair, and stomped to the door.

  “Dooley, I told ye to…” He trailed off as Hugh Fersen, the Earl of Bellamy, glared at him. “Bellamy? What the devil are ye doing here?”

  “We saw your light,” the earl stated, swiping rain from his face. “May we come in?”

  Duncan frowned. “Who’s ‘we’?” he asked, moving a step to the right so he blocked the entrance completely with his body. The figure behind Bellamy stepped forward, and a whisper of uneasiness curled down Duncan’s spine. “Orville,” he said, nodding.

  Orville Fersen, Bellamy’s cousin, smiled coolly, the expression fractured by a nose that had been broken at least twice. “We passed by Lenox House a bit ago,” he said in his low, scratched voice. “They said ye were out here.”

  They’d been by Lenox House. Where his sisters would be sleeping. And he’d been here, three miles away. “Why are ye looking for me?” he asked, not budging from his place. “It must be near midnight.”

  “It’s raining, Lenox. May we come in?” Bellamy repeated.

  “I’m nae a friend of yers, Bellamy. Either of ye. And as I’m here hunting after someaught that’s killing my animals, and I’ve half a suspicion it’s ye and yer dogs, Orville, ye can damned well stand oot in the rain until lightning strikes ye dead.”

  “Care to wager on that, Duncan?” Orville moved in closer, his hand going to his waist. A dagger, no doubt. And his own was in the hole with Julia.

  “That’s enough, cousin. We’re here for Lenox’s aid, after all.”

  “Is that so?” Duncan retorted. “How might that be?”

  “It’s a bit embarrassing, actually,” Bellamy said, his faded accent telling Duncan the earl had only recently returned from England—even if he hadn’t been fairly aware of Hugh’s comings and goings. “I seem to have misplaced something of mine.”

  “Aye? I may have a stray sheep or two of yourn, but I dunnae think that would bring ye here. Orville could see to yer sheep. And in the daylight.”

  “Seems that sheep would be yer interest, Lenox,” Orville Fersen retorted, snickering.

  “Never mind that,” his cousin cut in. “I … Well, I’m married. And the young lady is—”

  “Ye’re married? My congratulations, Bellamy. I’d no idea.”

  “Yes, well, it was arranged, and I’m afraid my bride is quite … sheltered. Shy. She fled Bellamy Park this afternoon, and I’m afraid something ill has befallen her.”

  Duncan lifted an eyebrow. “She ran away? Did ye show her yer cock and the massive thing frightened her?”

  Bellamy chuckled, the sound forced. “Something like that. Regardless, I’m worried, and I need to find her. Have you seen an English lady over the past few hours?”

  “Nae. And I think that’d be someaught I’d remember. Do ye want me to ride oot with some of my lads and help ye look? Ye say she’s a Sasannach? The Highlands is no place fer a stranger to be lost.”

  “I can manage the search. I do want permission to search the valley here. And your shack.”

  Duncan didn’t bother hiding his frown. “Ye’re welcome to search the valley. If I hear ye went through Lenox House while I was nae there, though, we’re going to have a disagreement. I’ll nae have Orville gawping at my sisters.”

  “Ye worried ye’ll nae find another man to match me?”

  “I’m worried ye’ll give ’em nightmares, and I’ll nae manage to marry them off at all.” Duncan put a finger against Bellamy’s wet chest. “Did ye search my home withoot me there?” he asked, very evenly.


  “I took a quick look through your vacant rooms,” the earl returned, “in the company of your butler. Orville waited outside with the horses. I know that you and he are … at odds.”

  “That’s someaught, then,” Duncan conceded begrudgingly, and he stepped to one side, allowing them into the cottage. “I’ve an objection to ye calling me a liar when I say yer lass is nae here. But I ken ye judge a man by yer own character, so I’ll allow ye to look aboot. This once.”

  “Careful, Lenox. That almost sounded like an insult.”

  “It was meant to.”

  The two men stepped inside, shaking rain onto the dirt floor as they both shed their greatcoats and hats. Bellamy handed his garments to Orville, who sent his titled cousin a glare and then hung the dripping things on the wooden pegs driven into the wall beside the door.

  “Dunnae think ye’re staying here, Bellamy. Ye said ye were here to find yer lass. Have yer look, and be gone. I’ll nae put ye up for the night.”

  “Why in such a hurry to be rid of us?” Orville asked.

  “Because ye’ve already called me a liar once, and I dunnae like either of ye. And because I’ve work to do in the morning, and ye’re keeping me awake.”

  The earl’s cousin sent an assessing look about the single room, then back at Duncan. “So ye sleep in yer kilt, do ye?”

  “Nae. I sleep naked. But then someone pounded on my door and woke me up. Any other stupid questions ye wish to ask?”

  While he kept Orville glaring angrily at him, the earl made a show of pulling open cupboards and looking through blankets and under the bed. “Could someone have come in here while you were out hunting?”

  “And they’ve hidden in the cupboard? Are ye looking fer a woman or a mouse?”

  “This isn’t amusing. And I’d rather stay out of the rain tonight,” Bellamy said absently, digging the spoon through the remains of the kettle of stew. “We could scour the valley at dawn.”

  “And I dunnae care what ye prefer,” Duncan retorted. They could spend the night on the floor, but that would mean Julia would have to stay in the pitch black hole for another four hours, with Bellamy snoring cozily only a few feet away. After what she’d already been through, he wasn’t willing to subject the lass to that. “Ye can see she’s nae here.” He put a concerned look on his face. “Ye truly think she’s oot in that weather? She could catch her death. What the devil made her run from ye, anyway?”

  “That’s my affair, Lenox. And for your own sake you’d best not be lying to me.”

  With a great deal of effort Duncan kept his expression even. “I dunnae ken why ye keep flinging threats in my direction, Bellamy. I’ve nae given ye so much as a cross look.”

  “Yes, you excel at diplomacy, Lenox. If your great-grandmother had been a Campbell rather than a MacLawry, I imagine we’d be friends.”

  Duncan didn’t imagine any such thing. He knew Bellamy to be high-handed and arrogant, and if not for the consequences, he might have told him so on several occasions. If there was ever a man who needed a good punch to the snout, it was Hugh Fersen. “As we’re so near to friendship,” he said aloud, “mayhap ye might tell me why ye think yer bride is hiding in one of my houses.”

  “The horse she stole returned to my stable two hours ago, without her aboard. She’s somewhere close by, and you’re somewhere close by.”

  Moment by moment Duncan found himself more impressed by Julia Prentiss. However Bellamy had managed to prey on her kindness in order to get his hands on her, she’d gotten away on her own and with enough of the earl’s pride that he’d come to a rival clan to find her. That, though, was neither here nor there. “Ye say she stole a horse from ye? That must have been quite the fright ye gave her.”

  “A simple misunderstanding, and none of your concern.” Bellamy sank down on the edge of the bed. “How old is that pretty, black-haired sister of yours? Sorcha, I believe?”

  “Didnae ye just say ye were married?”

  “I am, yes. But Orville isn’t.”

  “If Orville so much as winks at Sorcha, I’ll put his eye oot. And then I’ll put oot the other one, so he doesnae do it again.”

  The earl sent a glance over at Duncan where he still stood by the open door. “What’s become of that diplomacy of yours?” he asked, a cynical smile touching his thin lips.

  Duncan tilted his head. “Ask me more aboot my sisters and find oot.” That was where he drew the line. And if Bellamy hadn’t realized that by now, it was past time he did so.

  “That stew smells mighty fine, Lenox,” Orville commented. “I could stand a bowl of it before we go out into that storm again.”

  “A bard has to sing for his supper,” Duncan returned, “Ye tell me why yer cousin married a lass, got her to Bellamy, and then had her flee, and I might consider that worth a stew.”

  “She came here first, and then I had Father Duggan marry us,” Bellamy snapped. “She’s dim-witted and flighty, but as I said, it was arranged. I’ll have her back, and in my bed, and she won’t flee again.”

  Now that was the Bellamy with whom Duncan was better acquainted. And he decided that by now he would be feeling annoyed and put-upon. “Sounds like the two of ye’ll have a grand time together. But barking at me aboot yer own shortcomings doesnae earn ye even a radish. Yer timid bride is nae here, and ye’re beginning to stink up my cottage. Get oot. Now.”

  “And if we decide to stay?” Orville asked, stirring at the stew.

  Duncan took a single step sideways and retrieved his rifle from behind the cupboard. “I’d say that would be a mistake.”

  Bellamy narrowed his eyes. “There’s no call for violence, Lenox.”

  “I’m being cautious, Bellamy. And I’ll nae have ye in here eating my breakfast while yer wife is oot in the rain waiting fer a rescue.”

  “Miss— My wife is the one who fled. She can spend a night wet and hungry if it makes her see sense,” the earl retorted, backing toward the door. “And I’ll expect you to keep an eye out for her, and inform me immediately if you see her.”

  “Aye, I’ll inform ye, just so ye’ll have no cause to come and interrupt my sleep again,” Duncan agreed, refrained from commenting on Bellamy’s slip of the tongue.

  The two men pulled their wet coats back on. Orville yanked his soaked, drooping hat over his ears but stopped in the doorway to face Duncan again. “Aren’t ye going to ask what she looks like?”

  “I imagine if I see a strange lass fleeing on foot through the heather it would be her, but ye can tell me if ye’d like.” Duncan took hold of the door, ready to slam it the moment they crossed the threshold.

  “She has brown hair and … green eyes, I think. Or perhaps brown.” The earl, already scowling at the rain, frowned. “And no, I don’t remember. It was an—”

  “An arranged marriage. I recall ye said that a time or two.” No, she didn’t have brown hair or green eyes. Duncan might only have been in her company for a short time, but he knew that. Miss Prentiss’ hair had more sunset to it, a trace of auburn that turned to polished brass in the twilight. And her eyes were a sweet, rich brown.

  “And she had on a blue gown,” Bellamy added.

  “If I see her, I’ll send ye word. Or do ye want me to tie her over a horse and bring her to ye myself?”

  “There’s no need to frighten her further. Just send me word if you see her,” the earl said, a touch too quickly. As if he didn’t want anyone talking to his so-called bride.

  Duncan wasn’t about to comment on that subject any further, though. “I will.” Ye damned, lying bastard, he added silently, and shut the door on the intruders and the wild storm outside.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Julia wondered how long a person could survive without breathing. Her elbow itched, a stray hair tickled her nose, and yet she lay where she was, unmoving, her fingers clutching the box of chess pieces like it was armor.

  The voices above her were only a little muffled; she could hear every word the three men spoke. She could imagine their
expressions as easily as if she stood among them; Bellamy would be red-faced, his chin in the air because someone had dared to interfere with his perfect little plan. Orville Fersen, his narrowed eyes cynical, would be searching for her with the keen senses of a hound. And Duncan Lenox would be impassive, annoyed at the intrusion, and not giving any sign at all that he’d stashed her literally under the other men’s feet.

  When he insulted Bellamy, she actually smiled; she’d wanted so badly to tell the earl precisely what she thought of him and his dealings, and only the realization that she would fare better if she behaved had kept her from doing so. She liked the way Duncan defended his sisters, as well. It certainly spoke well of him. In fact, she found herself listening mostly to his voice, to his quick, measured responses and the way he used every opportunity to point out the difference between a true gentleman and what Bellamy clearly was.

  After the door closed, the shack fell very quiet. Was Duncan belatedly wishing he’d chosen a different course of action? She knew as well as he that the longer she remained in his company, the more likely his part in all this was to be discovered. Then the bed above her shifted, the plank creaked, and firelight flooded into her black hole.

  “I’m sorry I had to keep ye in there fer so long,” he said, kneeling at the edge and holding out both hands for her. “If I’d shot ’em, more folk would have come by to ask questions.”

  She took his hands, his warm fingers curling around hers, and let him help her out of her hiding place. “I don’t know if it’s a compliment, Duncan,” she returned, smiling, “but you are a splendid liar.”

  He inclined his head, standing up beside her. He was bare-chested again, his hair disheveled and one boot missing. Utterly delicious, the baser part of her decided. And utterly desirable.

  “I’d nae lie to anyone with an ounce of honor,” he said. “So compliment me all ye like.”

  His green eyes, darker in the firelight, met her gaze squarely. And there she stood, in a ruined dress, a disaster of a knot left in her hair, and straw in her shoes. An utterly ruined woman who’d, by some blind stroke of luck, lost her horse in front of quite possibly the one man in the Highlands who not only could help her, but had agreed to do so. At great peril to himself.