To Woo a Highland Warrior

by Cameron, Collette

  A surge of possessiveness assailed Liam, and he wanted to rip his friend’s fingers from her arm. The ire did much to cool his lust.

  Emeline’s mouth twitched at the corners, and she slid Liam a mischievous glance from beneath her lashes.

  God, she was adorable.

  “He sometimes growls, snorts, and hisses, too,” she murmured, matter-of-factly.

  Add a sense of humor to her considerable charms.

  Quinn and Broden guffawed, and Skye and Kendra giggled. Even Mother’s mouth inched upward a degree, approval shining in her eyes.

  “In case anyone cares, I’m right here, and can hear ye,” Liam grumbled.

  “Liam, darlin’, I believe that’s the point.” His mother’s eyes twinkled. “We’re no’ laughin’ at ye, but with ye.”

  Emeline wasn’t.

  To anyone but him, she appeared composed, even serene. But he’d come to know her well these past days, and he spied the signs of her severe nervousness. Hands clasped tightly before her. Squared shoulders. The Madonna’s serene smile that didn’t quite reach her wide, troubled eyes.

  “My dear Miss LeClaire! What an unexpected pleasure.” Kendra swooped in to take Emeline’s hands in hers, forcing Broden to release her arm. “’Tis wonderful to see ye again so soon.” She wrapped an arm around Emeline’s waist while sending Liam another inquisitive glance.

  His mother’s too perceptive gaze drifted between Liam and Emeline and traveled back to Liam again before she raised her eyebrow—her most skeptical eyebrow—a fraction.

  To his immense relief, no one paid him much mind as he slid from Deri. Everyone’s attention was on the woman he’d brought home.

  It was his turn to summon false congeniality. “I’m sure ye’re curious why I’m tardy and why Miss LeClaire is with me. I’ll explain inside after the introductions.” He turned to his mother. “Mother, we’re both ravenous. Please ask the kitchen to prepare somethin’.”

  At once, his mother nodded her noble head. With carefully coiffed hair as black as his, but liberally threaded with silver, she had the bearing of a great lady as well as a genuinely warm and generous heart. “Of course. Baths, too, I presume?”

  “Please.” He bent to kiss her upturned cheek. “I’m sorry to have worried ye.”

  She gripped his forearm, her expression more relaxed. “Ye’re home safe now. That’s what counts.”

  Looking slightly lost, Emeline met his gaze across the short distance separating them. He canted his head, indicating she should accompany Kendra inside.

  “Kendra, I’m hopin’ I can impose upon ye to allow Emeline to borrow a few of yer gowns.” Liam flexed his spine again. Miles of riding while wanting a woman he couldn’t possess had strained his self-control mightily.

  “Of course.” She gave Emeline a reassuring smile, even as her winged brows dipped together in puzzlement. To her credit, his outspoken sister didn’t ask the obvious question.

  Nonetheless, a flush scampered across Emeline’s porcelain cheeks.

  Her rosy cheeks didn’t escape his mother’s notice, however, and her eyebrows scampered up her forehead. She wisely refrained from commenting as well. For now.

  “Liam, we heard word of flash floodin’ and several fatalities. I must tell ye, we were all greatly concerned when ye didna arrive home on time.” Broden slapped him on the shoulder then gave it a hard squeeze. “Glad I am to see ye safe and sound.”

  They’d heard of the flash flood? Dammit.

  Liam had counted on them not being aware. The tense line of Emeline’s jaw revealed her thoughts mirrored his. The account they’d agreed to tell everyone would need altering a mite.

  Kendra tossed her head and rolled her eyes heavenward. “Broden, I told ye he was fine. Ye needna have come to check on us or him.”

  “Kendra, cease bein’ churlish to our guest,” Mother gently admonished. “The Penderhavens and MacKays are kent far and wide for our hospitality, and Broden dinna need an invitation to call. He’s always welcome in our home.”

  “Aye, but some guests outstay their welcome.” She gave Broden a pointed look, and his expression turned flinty. Since when did she snipe at him? And since when did he look like he wanted to turn her over his knee?

  Eyes narrowed contemplatively, Liam considered them. For all of their protestations of dislike, they could hardly keep their eyes off each other.

  A few minutes later, everyone entered Eytone Hall’s floral salon. At least that was what Mother called the garish room. Decorated in shades of pinks and roses, with gewgaws galore scattered about, Liam called the damned feminine travesty an eyesore. If his mother knew the salon greatly resembled a courtesans’ bordello, she’d faint dead away.

  He took Emeline’s elbow and, offering her a reassuring upward slant of his mouth, guided her to his mother. “Mother, may I present Miss Emeline LeClaire? Emeline, my mother, Louisa MacKay, Baroness of Penderhaven.”

  Emeline dipped into an elegant curtsy, a graceful smile curving her lips. “’Tis a pleasure to make yer acquaintance, my lady. Please forgive the imposition.”

  His mother arced her hand in the air. “Think nothin’ of it, my dear. We adore havin’ guests.” She laughed, a light, cheerful tinkle. “Ye smell far better than the hairy mongrel Liam brought home a few weeks ago.”

  “Prince would be most offended to hear ye speak so ill of him. He adores ye.” Liam glanced around then frowned. “Where is he, anyway?”

  “Havin’ a bath in the stables. Yer Prince is noble in name only. The beast is fond of rollin’ in sheep and coo manure, and I draw the line at animal excrement in my home.” Lady Penderhaven motioned to Skye. “Miss LeClaire, this is my sister’s daughter and my niece, Skye Hendron.”

  A kind smile swept Skye’s face, and she grasped Emeline’s hand. “I’m sure we’ll be the greatest of friends.” Though half-Scots, Skye had lived in England her entire life and acted every bit the perfect Englishwoman.

  Liam bent his neck and kissed his cousin’s cheek. “I’m glad to see ye, but I didna ken ye were plannin’ a visit.” He angled his head toward his mother inquisitively.

  “’Tis an unexpected pleasure,” his mother said, a hint of concern creasing the corners of her eyes.

  Skye’s blue eyes clouded and worry tautened her already high cheekbones. “Mama sent me north. A week ago, Papa returned to England from a visit to France and fell extremely ill within days. Mama insisted I come to Eytone Hall the same day. I didn’t even have a chance to bid him farewell.” She absently plucked at the lace at her elbow. “I hope ’tis nothing serious.”

  “As do we all,” Mother agreed soberly.

  Wasn’t there a plague outbreak in France?

  Liam would bite his tongue off before he mentioned it, however.

  Her gray eyes bright with curiosity, Kendra fairly bounced on the tips of her toes. “I canna imagine how ye came to be in Liam’s company. When did ye leave Killeaggian Tower? I thought Berget said ye intended an extended stay.”

  About as subtle as an enraged bull in the larder, was his sister.

  Everyone’s attention shifted to Liam and Emeline, inquisitiveness etched upon their features, but each too polite to put forward the question Kendra hinted at. As the last rays of sun filtered through the windows, casting the room in a warm light, Emeline looked as if she’d swallowed rocks.

  “My aunt decided she shouldna be away from her modiste shop any longer,” she said by way of an explanation.

  Likely, Jeneva LeClaire couldn’t afford to be away longer. Clientele were only so loyal. She’d only answered why they’d left Killeaggian, however. Emeline fixed her innocent whisky-colored eyes on Liam, trusting him to modify the story they’d agreed upon. They’d also decided to forgo her assuming a false identity since Kendra knew Emeline, and using a false name would raise questions neither were ready to answer just yet.

  “I was on my way home when the thunderstorm hit—the worst I’ve ever encountered,” he put forth, attempting to steer the
conversation in a different direction.

  His mother and sister nodded simultaneously.

  “It sounded as if the heavens were collapsin’.” Kendra gave an exaggerated shudder, her face a shade paler. She’d always hated storms, particularly thunderstorms.

  Liam swept his gaze to each of the room’s occupants in turn. “As ye can well imagine, it was quite dangerous with the trees fallin’, lightnin’ strikin’, and the tremendous rainfall makin’ the ground unstable. I happened across a coach as a flash flood bore down upon the occupants. I only just managed to reach Emeline and see her to higher ground before the water consumed the conveyance. Unfortunately, the drivers and her aunt perished.”

  All perfectly true, but only partially accurate, given the disturbing details he’d omitted.

  Kendra gasped and blanched. “Och, Emeline, I’m so verra sorry.” Her countenance sharpened by compassion, his spitfire of a sister blinked away genuine tears.

  Broden and Quinn made appropriate sympathetic noises as well, and his mother tsked her commiserations. “How utterly tragic, my dear. Please accept my deepest condolences, Emeline.”

  “Thank ye.” Fingers formed into talons, Emeline clenched the fabric of her cloak and directed her focus to the floor. Her throat worked, and Liam didn’t doubt she relived those terrifying moments the gun had been pointed at her, her aunt’s violent death, and how they’d barely escaped the floodwaters.

  “But the storm was days ago—?” Broden ceased abruptly at the thunderous scowl Liam speared him.

  Comprehension caused his mother’s eyes to flex the merest bit before she cleared her throat and directed her attention to Emeline again. “My dear girl, I shall have a bath drawn for ye at once. Kendra, hurry to yer room and gather an assortment of clothin’, underthin’s, and nightwear for our guest.”

  “Liam, dinna I get an introduction?” Broden gave a cheeky grin, and not for the first time today, Liam wanted to wipe it from his face. Preferably with his fist.

  He’d never felt hostility toward Broden until today, and the unwelcome sensation made bile rise hot and acrid in his throat. He curled his fingers into is palm and marshaled his composure. “I’m no’ sure that’s a good idea, given yer reputation.”

  “Nae worse than yers, my friend,” Broden quipped, not the least bit put off by Liam’s starchy demeanor.

  “God above and all the saints, too, give me patience.” Kendra rolled her eyes again and snorted. “And men complain women prattle on about nothin’.”

  In short order, Liam introduced Emeline to Broden and Quinn.

  She gave each a shy smile, and Liam wanted to punch his handsome friends in the face. He didn’t like this possessiveness thrumming through him, making him think and behave rashly. Hadn’t he spent years learning to control his impulses? And then this bonnie lass with her doe eyes comes along and turns everything arse over chin.

  “I believe I saw ye at McCulloughs’ ball in Edinburgh, Mr. McGregor,” she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Werena ye dressed as a sheik?”

  “Aye, he was struttin’ about like a vain peacock.” Arms crossed and her tone as dry and heated as fresh ash, Kendra cast him a sour look. “Because he mistakenly believes that all women will fall under his spell and jump at the opportunity to join his harem.”

  Broden’s grin took on a stony edge. “Och, only the lasses who have blood runnin’ in their veins rather than ice water.”

  Quinn chuckled and winked at Skye who flushed a becoming pink.

  Kendra narrowed her eyes until only the irises were visible. “Ye great sod—”

  “Kendra Eislyn Olive MacKay!” Mother’s stern exclamation finally cowed her. “That will be enough. I’ll remind you, we have a guest, and such vulgar speech is never acceptable from a lady.”

  Liam made a mental note to find out just what had transpired between his friend and sister. And to watch Quinn like a hawk around his pretty, young cousin. Quinn was a notorious philanderer.

  Like moths drawn to a flame, women fawned over him. He had his pick of the lot, and seldom refrained from carnal pursuits.

  Azure blue eyes shining, Skye stepped forward. “Emeline. I believe we’re of nearly the same size as well. Why don’t you, Kendra, and I go upstairs and we’ll see what we can do about supplying you with a temporary wardrobe?”

  His mother rang for the butler, and scarcely three breaths later, Simmons entered the salon. “Ye require somethin’, my lady?”

  “Aye, Simmons. We have the pleasure of another guest. Please prepare the—” Her gaze skittered between Liam and Emeline again. “The bedchamber beside Kendra’s. Miss LeClaire can share the services of Kendra’s lady’s maid. Also have baths drawn for her and Liam.”

  So, his mother had already perceived the attraction simmering between Liam and Emeline, and by giving her the room next to Kendra, hoped to curtail anything untoward. She would’ve been wiser to put Emeline in the other wing. For Kendra’s room was only four doors down and across the corridor from Liam’s.

  Looping her hand through Emeline’s elbow Kendra drew her toward the door. “Come, Emeline. Ye must be exhausted after yer ordeal.”

  Emeline sliced Liam a speaking glance, and he gave a slight nod. They’d agreed not to discuss the matter with others and stick to the plan they’d devised. Except Broden had already broached the subject that could lead them down a very rocky path.

  Liam trusted his family and friends, and his servants didn’t gossip. Not if they wished to retain their positions. If anyone came calling, Emeline would stay in her chamber.

  She couldn’t remain secluded for long, however. They both agreed on that point. But returning to Edinburgh wasn’t wise or practical. Someone had gone to tremendous effort to have her killed. For the present, it was far safer and wiser for her would-be-murderer to believe she was dead.

  Mayhap, he’d go to Edinburgh in her stead, but he wasn’t comfortable leaving her behind either. Neither did he believe she’d sit docilely at Eytone waiting for his return. Docile wasn’t a word to describe her.

  “Emeline, I’ll have a tray brought up for ye,” his mother graciously offered. “We’ve already dined, but I’m sure ye’re hungry.”

  Thank God, his mother was a kindhearted woman, for there were many who wouldn’t have accepted Emeline so readily and would’ve cast aspersions about her being alone with Liam.

  “Ye’re too kind, my lady. Thank ye.” Emeline allowed Kendra and Skye to tow her from the room, but at the doorway, she cast a final, undiscernible glance over her shoulder.

  As asinine as it was, Liam missed her the moment she departed.

  He cursed inwardly, a string of oaths that would’ve singed Broden’s and Quinn’s ears.

  How had she finagled her way through the fortifications he’d so carefully erected? He’d trodden in perilous territory, and one false step would have him sinking under her spell completely.

  Damn his eyes, that he could not allow.

  Not, and have a speck of self-respect left. Prudence demanded that while she was at Eytone Hall, he avoid her as much as feasible.

  “Ye look like ye could use a dram, my friend.” Broden thrust a glass with three fingers’ worth of whisky toward him.

  “Ye’ve nae idea.” Shaking his head, he accepted the strong spirit.

  Quinn, one elbow resting on the fireplace mantel, glanced up, a crease between his light brown brows. His gaze slid to the door and back Liam. “So, what’s the real story, Liam?”

  Too damned perceptive as always.

  His mother settled on the divan and accepted a glass of sherry from Broden. “Aye, Son. As Broden mentioned, the flash flood occurred days ago. Where have ye and that lovely young girl been in the meanwhile?”

  Chapter Nine

  Eight days later, Emeline strolled arm in arm with Kendra and Skye through the elaborate gardens dividing Eytone Hall’s rolling lawns. Never in her life had she been so coddled. The food was excellent. The bedchamber with its molded pl
aster paneling and blue and white theme, was like something out of a fairytale, and the borrowed clothing—though not quite an exact fit—was far superior to anything she’d ever owned.

  She, Kendra, and Skye were fast becoming good friends, too.

  However, accustomed to being busy from the moment she awoke until she tumbled into bed, the idleness nearly drove her crazy. That and the speculative glances Lady Penderhaven, Broden, and Quinn sent her way on a regular basis. She was dying to know just what Liam had told them.

  Why were his friends still here, anyway?

  It certainly wasn’t her place to pose the question, but they seemed perfectly at home. Neither had mentioned their intent to leave any time soon.

  Except for mealtimes, and occasionally seeing him in the distance at one task or another, she’d seen little of Liam since her arrival. He had taken her aside that first morning and informed her he’d sent his man of business to make discreet inquiries on her behalf. But other than that one instance, he’d kept his distance.

  It hurt, though she scolded herself for permitting such a silly, feminine response. She assumed his duties as a feudal baron kept him occupied, but the truth was, she desired to speak to him. To spend time with him. How could she miss the company of a man she’d known but a fortnight and feel neglected by his lack of attention?

  If he’d wanted to convince his family there was nothing between them, his avoidance of her and cool politesse when they did encounter each other, hadn’t been as successful as he’d hoped. Liam didn’t appear to have noticed, however.

  Her need to return to Edinburgh weighed heavily upon her as well. Furthermore, how to explain the gap in time between when the floods occurred and when they’d arrived at Eytone Hall plagued her. Thanks to the divine powers, not another word had been mentioned about the matter.

  Very peculiar, that.

  For all of their obvious curiosity, Liam’s family and friends had become remarkably uninterested in that succulent tidbit.

  She could only assume he’d provided a satisfactory explanation. One he’d yet to share with her, and she feared she’d blunder and undo whatever it was he’d done to appease the others’ inquisitiveness.