To Wed A Wild Scot

  “Wait!” Juliana scurried after him, her heart in her throat. The musty passageway looked like just the sort of place where every rat in the castle would hide, but she couldn’t just leave that child alone in there. Why, he’d looked terrified! There was no telling how many passages there were, either. He could be lost for hours. The poor thing would cry himself sick.

  Juliana scurried after him, following the faint sound of his footsteps. She called to him once or twice, but he ran on, too frightened by now to do anything but flee. She followed him around one corner after another, and down too many narrow passages to count, but at some point, he got far enough ahead of her she could no longer hear his footsteps, and she was forced to stop.

  She leaned one hand against the rough stone wall and tried to catch her breath. She waited until her heart ceased its pounding, then she looked about, squinting in the gloom.

  And squinting, and squinting…was that…it almost looked like…

  Oh, no. Juliana’s eyes went wide. The rats were the least of her worries. She’d been so intent on following the boy, she hadn’t realized someone else was following her. Someone much larger and broader than she was.

  Juliana held out a shaking hand as he advanced on her. “D—don’t come any closer, or I promise I’ll make you regret it!”

  The man froze and raised his hands in front of him. “I’ve no doubt of that, dùr galla. I regret it already.”

  Juliana let her hand drop back down to her side. The voice was deep, a little rough, and more than a little amused. She would have recognized it anywhere.

  Logan Blair.

  “What are you doing here?” She wasn’t sure whether she was comforted or alarmed by his sudden presence, and her confusion made her voice sharper than she intended.

  “What am I doing here? Well, let me see. One of the housemaids told me you hadn’t left the library all day, but when I came searching for you I found the room empty, and the door to the underground passageway open.”

  He’d come searching for her? For the past three days he’d gone out of his way to avoid her, but today, for some unknown reason, he was so anxious for her company he’d chased her into a tunnel? Juliana shook her head. It didn’t make any sense, but at least he’d returned to Castle Kinross before nightfall. She’d learned over the past few months to seize any advantage fate happened to hand her.

  “I knew you must have gone through it,” he went on, “And you see, I was right. So, alainn galla, the more pressing question is, what are you doing here?”

  Juliana frowned at the Gaelic. He often used Gaelic words when he spoke to her, and she was sure he was making fun of her. One day soon she was going to find out what all these words meant, but at the moment she had other things to worry about. “I heard a noise, and there was a child, and he was crying…” Oh, for pity’s sake. The whole story sounded so absurd, Juliana had begun to wonder if she’d imagined the entire thing.

  But to her surprise, Logan seemed to know exactly what she was talking about. “A little boy?” he asked. “About six, with red hair?”

  “He ran away before I could see his hair, but yes, he was very young.”

  Logan nodded. “Ah, that’s Duncan Munro. His older brothers must have put him up to this. They tease him mercilessly. Mischievous little imps, the both of them.”

  Juliana let out an indignant huff. “Well, they both deserve a firm lesson, then. That poor child was beside himself.”

  “Aye, I’m sure he was. We’d better go after him. If he panics, he’ll end up running in circles down here for hours. Go on.” Logan waved a hand toward the tunnel in front of them. “I’m right behind you.”

  Never having crept through a secret underground passageway with a large man before, Juliana soon realized it wasn’t scuttling rodents that should be her first concern.

  It was proximity. Proximity to Logan Blair, to be specific.

  It was tighter than a tomb in here. She couldn’t see a thing, and as a result her other senses sharpened to supply the information her eyes no longer could.

  Senses like touch, and sound, and smell.

  Logan was directly behind her, so close she could feel the warmth of his big body running the length of hers, hear each breath he gathered into his lungs. Under the mustiness and mold of the disused passageway she could detect a faintly woody scent, with the barest hint of something else, something warm, like…woodsmoke?

  Logan Blair smelled like fresh wood in a warm, crackling fire.

  “Perhaps this wasn’t a good idea, after all.” Juliana winced at her own cowardice, but, well…it didn’t seem at all wise to venture into a dark tunnel with a man whose scent made her want to curl up next to him like a lazy cat.

  “You’re giving up already? What about poor Duncan? There’s no need to be frightened, lass. I’ll go first.”

  “I’m not a bit frightened,” she said, nettled, but then jumped when a large, warm hand pressed into the small of her back.

  He chuckled, stirring the loose tendrils of hair at her temple. “Oh, no. Not at all.”

  He didn’t give her a chance to reply, but eased her gently aside so he could squeeze past her in the narrow passageway. Juliana was still trying to gather the wits his nearness had scattered when his long fingers closed around hers.

  “I…what are you doing? Why are you holding my hand, Mr. Blair?”

  He stiffened slightly and dropped her hand. “I was going to guide you through the tunnel. You can hold on to a fold of my coat, if you’d rather.”

  Fierce heat rose to Juliana’s cheeks, and she was glad for the darkness that hid her blush. She sounded like a nervous schoolgirl. Still, she didn’t take his hand again, but grasped his coat, as he’d suggested. Neither of them had bothered with gloves, and it seemed wiser not to touch his bare skin.

  “This tunnel connects to more of the rooms on the ground floor than you’d think. It’s a complex one, as far as secret passageways go. From here we can get to the library, the kitchens, the dining room, and even under the grand staircase in the front entry, in case the safest route out is through the front door.”

  “Is Clan Kinross a wicked one then, to need so many secret doors to escape their enemies?”

  “The English might say so. The Scots would say it’s a brave one.” He edged around a tight bend in the tunnel that took them off toward the right. “Where should we search first? This tunnel we’re in leads to the kitchens.”

  “I expect you know every inch of this tunnel, don’t you? Did you used to sneak into the kitchens through the secret passageway when you were a boy and steal sweets from the cook?”

  “Naturally, I did. How did you know?”

  She laughed. “Young girls aren’t so very different from young boys. If we’d had such a fascinating passageway at Graystone Court, you can be sure I’d have used it to steal sweets from the kitchens, and I expect you were a much naughtier child than I was.”

  He laughed. “Naughty enough. Here we are.”

  Juliana peered over his shoulder. He’d stopped in front of a low wooden door with iron fittings. “Can Duncan have gone through it? Does it open?”

  “No. Not since Mrs. Craig came to Castle Kinross.” He grasped the heavy iron door and gave it a tug, but it didn’t budge. “She put an end to the pilfering by locking the door, and ordering a massive set of shelves to be placed in front of it.”

  “Why, what a clever way to manage naughty boys.”

  “Mrs. Craig is clever, all right. Bad-tempered, too.”

  Juliana didn’t miss the note of affection in his voice, and her lips curved in a smile. Logan Blair was an entirely different man when he talked about his home. It was obvious he cared deeply for this place and the people. Juliana found herself eager to hear more. “How long has Mrs. Craig been at Castle Kinross?”

  “Since I was in short pants. I was terrified of h
er when I was a child. The children are still terrified of her now, but she makes a delicious cranachan, so she stays.”

  “A delicious what?”

  He’d taken a few steps away from the door toward another narrow passage to their left, but now he stopped and turned to face her. “Cranachan. Don’t tell me you’ve never had cranachan?”

  “I’ve never even heard of it.” It was too dark for Juliana to make out the expression on his face, but she heard the outrage in his voice, and her grin widened. Logan’s cool reserve was melting like an icicle in the sun. “Is it a sweet?”

  “Aye, it’s a sweet. Cream, honey, oatmeal, and Perthshire raspberries. Pity it’s too early for raspberries. I’ll ask Mrs. Craig to make it with the early gooseberries instead, though it’s likely to earn me a clout to the side of the head.”

  “Well, then don’t suggest it! Why should you?”

  “So you can try it.”

  “Well…oh.” Juliana thought this a sweet gesture on his part, and wasn’t sure what to say in reply. He didn’t seem to expect any response, because he turned and began to make his way down the passage to their left.

  Juliana caught at his coat and followed along, her thoughts in more of a turmoil than they’d been since she arrived at Castle Kinross. If she did persuade Logan to marry her, it would be far easier if she could continue to be wary of him. She’d thought that would be easy enough, but now here he was, entertaining her with his stories and offering her raspberries and sweets.

  The blasted man was making it difficult for her to dislike him. She didn’t care one bit for it, but there wasn’t much she could do about it while she was trapped in a tunnel with him. Perhaps it would be best if she suggested they find their way back out as soon as—

  “Oh, no. Did you hear that, Mr. Blair?”

  He turned. “What?”

  It was a furtive scuttling, like little claws scrabbling across a stone floor. An involuntary shudder ran down her spine. “It sounded like—” Her words dissolved into a screech as one—no, two—sets of tiny feet scurried over the toes of her shoes.

  Juliana didn’t pause to think or utter a single word, but ran instinctively toward Logan. Later she’d congratulate herself for not leaping into his arms, but instead contenting herself with standing on the tops of his boots, so her own feet were off the floor and away from those loathsome creatures.

  Logan gave a faint exclamation of surprise to find himself suddenly in possession of a panicked female. To his credit, he didn’t send them both sprawling, but closed his arms around her waist to keep her steady.

  Juliana had wrapped her own arms around his torso to keep from toppling over, but now the first alarm had passed, she was ready to sink to the floor in mortification. She wasn’t afraid of much—snakes, stinging insects, heights—but rats made her lose her wits.

  And now…oh, for goodness sakes, she’d actually thrown herself at him! How in the world would she excuse herself? He was going to laugh himself silly at her—

  “Let me guess, Lady Juliana. Rats?”

  There wasn’t a hint of laughter in his voice. It should have comforted her, but somehow his gentlemanly forbearance made it even worse. At least if he’d laughed at her, she could have defended herself.

  As it was…

  “Yes, I…oh, dear. I do beg your pardon, Mr. Blair,” she muttered, her face once again in flames. She felt his chest vibrate and was certain he was suppressing laughter, but when he spoke his voice was remarkably grave.

  “Don’t apologize. I’m happy to help you. Are they gone now?”

  It wasn’t until then Juliana realized she was still standing on top of the poor man, and clutching at his waist. “Yes, I—I think so.” It didn’t matter if they were still there or not. Even if there’d been dozens of them waiting to fly up her skirts, nothing could be more humiliating than to carry on molesting him.

  Juliana swept one suspicious glance over the floor, then climbed down off him. “Do you think Duncan’s found his way out by now? Shall we go back up and see?”

  “You don’t want to see the room where Bonnie Prince Charlie is rumored to have hidden from the English? It’s just over there.” He waved a hand behind him.

  Over his shoulder Juliana could just make out a spot where the tunnel walls widened into a room of sorts. “No, thank you. That is, I’m sure it’s fascinating, but…”

  But unless Bonnie Prince Charlie was still in residence, she’d leave the room to the rats.

  “Aye, all right, but are you sure, Lady Juliana, you don’t wish to see the wine cellar? It’s just up a short flight of stairs. Some of the bottles are hundreds of years old.”

  Was he teasing her? Juliana gave him a sharp look, but he only gazed back at her with innocent blue eyes. “No, I think not, Mr. Blair. It’s kind of you to offer, but…”

  But if there was a place rats tended to gather, it was in a wine cellar.

  He sighed, as if disappointed. “All right, but first I want to show you the timbered alcove. It’s haunted by the ghost of a Jacobite soldier who lost his leg at Culloden, and later died in this very tunnel. I couldn’t let you leave without seeing where he bled out.”

  He was teasing her, all right, the devil. He was trying to hide it, but Juliana could see just the tiniest grin lurking at one corner of his lips. She crossed her arms over her chest and fixed him with the sternest look she could muster after having climbed him as if he were a tree, and she a squirrel. “You’re an odious, wicked, teasing man, Mr. Blair.”

  His grin widened. “Not at all, lass. There really is a ghost in the tunnel. It isn’t a soldier, though, but my great-great-great uncle Mackenzie Blair, who’s said to haunt the cellars in search of a bottle of his favorite whisky.”

  Juliana did her utmost to stifle her answering grin. “I never cared much for whisky. Now, Mr. Blair, if you’re quite finished, I’d be grateful if you’d take me above ground again. I’m certain Duncan must have gone out by now.”

  He bowed. “We’ll go back through the library. It’s the closest.”

  Juliana took up the fold of his coat she’d already ruined with her frantic clutching, and let him lead her through what felt like dozens of narrow passageways. Just as she was able to discern the light spilling into the tunnel from the library, Logan came to an abrupt halt.

  Juliana’s fingers tightened on his coat. “What is it? More rats?”

  He didn’t answer. He was advancing toward another of the shallow alcoves tucked into the wall at the end of an adjacent passage.

  “Come out, Duncan.” Logan’s voice was kind, but firm.

  There was a brief silence, then Juliana heard the unmistakable sound of a child’s sniffle. The little boy she’d seen earlier crept from the alcove. His small face was red, his eyes swollen, and his cheeks wet with tears.

  “Don’t cry. It’s all right now.” Juliana darted forward, her arms stretched out instinctively for the child, but he wasn’t looking at her. He was looking at Logan.

  Logan beckoned the boy forward, and knelt down so he could see his face. “Finlay and Brodie again?”

  The boy nodded, and then, as if he couldn’t bear to contain his misery a moment longer, he let out a pitiful sob. “They laughed at me, an’ called me a baby, and then I said I wasna a baby, and they said prove it, an’—”

  Logan sighed, and drew the little boy closer to stand between his knees. “And they sent you into the tunnel to prove it, and you got lost. Do you remember what I told you about Finlay and Brodie, Duncan?”

  Duncan drew his sleeve across his running nose. “Aye, sir.”

  “What was it?”

  “Ye said to tell ’em the laird says I’m their brother an’ they best behave decent to me, sir.”

  “Good. And what else did I tell you, privately?”

  “Ye said they’d come ’round, an’ I ’spect they
will, but it’s taking ever so long, an’ I don’t have anyone to play with.”

  Logan chucked the little boy under the chin. “They’ll come ’round, Duncan, but until they do, why don’t you play with Isobel?”

  Duncan stared at him, horrified. “But she’s a girl!”

  Logan’s lips twitched. “A lad can’t have too many friends, and Isobel will be good to you.” He took Duncan by the shoulders and turned him to face Juliana. “See this lady here? She’s Mr. Fitz’s best friend.”

  Duncan stared doubtfully up at her. “His best friend?”

  The little lad had a mass of unruly red hair, and his big blue eyes were still swimming with tears. Juliana’s heart just melted for him. “His very best.” She sank down onto her knees so her face was even with the boy’s. “Girls make very good friends, Duncan—quite as good as boys, I daresay. I’m sure Mr. Fitz would tell you the same.”

  Duncan rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes, drew a shaky breath, and nodded.

  “Go on and see if you can’t find Isobel, Duncan, and then next week you and I will go fishing in Ruthven Burn together.”

  “Ye mean it, sir?” Duncan asked.

  “Aye. We’ll bring a picnic, if you like.”

  A radiant smile replaced the last of Duncan’s tears, and after a few more reassuring words from Logan, he allowed himself to be coaxed out of the tunnel. Logan gestured for Juliana to follow after him, then pushed the door that led from the library into the tunnel firmly closed behind them.

  He reached down to tousle Duncan’s hair. “When you see Finlay and Brodie, tell them the laird’s looking for them.”

  “Are you gonna thrash ’em?” Duncan asked hopefully.

  Logan winked. “No, but they don’t know that. Now, off with you.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Duncan skipped out of the room, much cheered. Logan watched him go, then turned to Juliana. Her expression must have given her away, because a faint smile rose to his lips. “Why do you look so surprised, galla? I told you I was good with children.”

  “So you did.” She watched Duncan race down the hallway with a bemused smile, then turned back to Logan. “You haven’t said why you came looking for me this afternoon, Mr. Blair.”