One Night with the Laird

by Nicola Cornick

  “Send a couple of the boys ahead to tell my cousin what’s happened,” Jack said. “He’ll send men out to escort the carriages.”

  Mairi looked from one to the other. “I give the orders here,” she said. “One blow to the head does not render me incapable of decision-making.”

  Jack raised an eyebrow; Frazer smothered a grin. “Yes, ma’am,” he said.

  “Do as Mr. Rutherford suggests,” Mairi said.

  “Yes, ma’am.” Frazer saluted and stood down.

  Jack gave her a smile. “Thank you for that,” he said.

  “You’re welcome,” Mairi said. “It would be foolish to gainsay you. Frazer and his sons already think you walk on water.”

  “You don’t do so badly yourself,” Jack said. He sat back on the seat, surveying her lazily. The turbulent anger she had seen in him earlier appeared to have gone, and yet Mairi was not so sure. She would not want to be in Wilfred Cardross’s boots when Jack caught up with him.

  Jack looked at her, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “Would you really have killed him?” he asked. “Your own cousin?”

  “Without a single qualm,” Mairi said. “And anyway, he’s not my cousin. We’re only distant kin and it’s a courtesy title. Wilfred doesn’t deserve the courtesy,” she added. “The king should have hanged him when he had the chance. I would have been happy to oblige. He’s the scum of the earth.”

  “Robert says your sister is as fierce as you are,” Jack said. “I must admit you’d never know it to look at the two of you.”

  “We’re descended from Malcolm MacMorlan, the Red Fox of Forres,” Mairi said. “What do you expect? Smelling salts and swooning? We leave that sort of thing to Dulcibella.”

  Jack laughed. “You do know that your clan and mine were traditionally old enemies? We shouldn’t be fighting on the same side.”

  A ripple of emotion ran though Mairi. She repressed a shiver of a different sort. There was a warmth and intimacy building again between them. She could feel her awareness of him spark into life, and she did not want that. She was determined to fight it. She was not going to make all the same mistakes again.

  His gaze was still on her, and heat flickered in the depths of his eyes. It seared her.

  “That would explain the antagonism between us,” she said lightly.

  Jack’s eyes darkened. He leaned forward. “Is that what you feel for me, Mairi MacLeod?” he said. He brushed his lips to hers.

  “Among other things,” Mairi said. She held herself stiffly, refusing to respond to the seduction of his kiss, willing herself to resist. Even so her heart fluttered and it felt as though honey were flowing through her veins.

  “Don’t break the betrothal yet, Mairi,” Jack said softly. “I cannot protect you if you are not mine.” He touched her cheek gently, then jumped down from the carriage and strode away.

  “Arrogant bastard,” Mairi whispered, but she realized that her fingers were pressed to her mouth as though she could still feel the touch of his lips on hers.

  * * *

  IT WAS THREE hours before they arrived at Methven. The journey was entirely without incident, but Mairi was never more relieved than when she saw the solid gray of the walls piercing the sky.

  Jessie had traveled in the coach with her this time. “Mercy me,” the maid kept saying. “That Earl of Cardross is a very bad man, madam. First he tried to abduct your sister and now he wants to kidnap you! He does not seem very choosy which sister he takes.”

  “Thank you, Jessie,” Mairi said. “I don’t believe Wilfred wanted me for himself. He said something about a friend who had an interest.”

  “Oh, aye,” Jessie said. “He wouldnae be the first man to have an interest in you, madam, but Mr. Rutherford will see him straight now that you’re betrothed.” She looked at Mairi out of the corner of her eye. “He’s a good man to have on your side in a mill. And you’ve been on your own too long, madam, after Mr. Archie went, and before for that matter. Now, Mr. Rutherford isn’t like Mr. Archie.”

  “He certainly isn’t,” Mairi said. There were no similarities that she could see between Jack and Archie. If anyone had attacked Archie’s carriage he would probably have handed over the strongbox and his wife besides.

  Jessie smiled. “Mr. Rutherford’s a wee bit dictatorial, maybe...”

  “More than a little,” Mairi said with feeling.

  “But you like it,” the maid said slyly.

  “My head aches too much to argue,” Mairi said. It was a half-truth. She was surprised to find that it was actually a refreshing change to allow someone else to take charge sometimes. Not that she would ever admit that to Jack. She glanced out of the window at the Methven men riding beside the coach. As soon as he had received Jack’s message, Robert had sent armed clansmen to escort them safely, with the result that their arrival resembled something like a medieval progress. She was impressed by Jack’s show of authority, but she was even more impressed by the way he had consulted Frazer on all his decisions. She had even heard him address Frazer’s sons by name; clearly he had taken the trouble to get to know them all. She was reminded of the camaraderie she had seen between him and the men at the Inverbeg Inn. He had a gift of relating easily to people and yet at the same time he was a very private man. In some ways his openness was as much pretense as hers. Neither of them gave away what really lay beneath.

  They drove through the gateways with their towering pillars surmounted by griffins and drew up on the graveled sweep in front of the castle. Jack opened the carriage door and before Mairi could protest he had lifted her down and was carrying her to the main door, where she could see Robert, Lucy and the Dowager Marchioness of Methven waiting to greet them.

  Mairi was mortified. Jack taking charge was one thing; carrying her as though she were an infant was quite another.

  “Put me down,” she hissed. “I am perfectly capable of walking.” She wriggled. Jack responded by tightening his grip on her. She could tell he was enjoying himself.

  “Just for once,” he said softly, bending his head so that only she could hear, “stop fighting me and allow yourself to be looked after.”

  His hazel eyes blazed down into hers. Mairi felt her insides tumble. There was possession in his grip and in his eyes, deep and primitive. She remembered the way he had kissed her in front of everyone at the inn. He was making no bones about the fact that she was his now.

  She wondered suddenly if Lord MacLeod had told anyone about the betrothal. She hoped he had not yet had time and particularly that word had not yet reached Methven. She wanted to do this in her own way, although she had barely had time to think how that might be.

  “Mairi!” As they came up the steps, Lucy rushed forward. “If you could carry her up to the Blue Chamber—” she started to say to Jack.

  “I am perfectly well,” Mairi said crisply. She had had enough now. “Mr. Rutherford, please let me stand on my own two feet.”

  She felt flushed, ruffled and utterly at a disadvantage. She could see that Robert Methven could barely contain his amusement as he looked from her face to that of his cousin.

  “As my lady orders,” Jack drawled, and for a moment Mairi had the horrid feeling that he was simply going to drop her where they stood, but then he placed her on her feet as gently as if she were made of spun glass, steadying her with a hand beneath her elbow.

  “Very pretty, Jack.” The Dowager Marchioness of Methven had come forward to greet them now. She was a small, upright figure who crackled with energy. Mairi had met her only a couple of times previously in Edinburgh and was frankly terrified of her sharp gaze and equally sharp tongue. Lucy had told her that the dowager was as soft as butter beneath her fierce exterior; Mairi was certain she would never see beneath that exterior, least of all win the dowager’s approval, particularly when she jilted her grandson.

 
She dropped a respectful curtsey and was surprised when the old lady put out both hands to grasp hers and drew her down to kiss her cheek.

  “I am so pleased to meet you again, my dear,” the dowager said, smiling warmly. “I was very happy when I heard that you are to be my grandson’s future bride.”

  Mairi’s heart plummeted. Lord MacLeod had been very quick off the mark with the good news. And there was such bright pleasure in the dowager’s eyes. It made Mairi feel inadequate and a total fraud.

  “Thank you, ma’am,” she said. “I had not realized that word would have reached you so swiftly.”

  “Oh, Jack sent word last night from Kinlochewe,” Lady Methven said serenely. “I expect he was so pleased to share the exciting news that he simply could not wait.”

  “Absolutely,” Jack said smoothly. “I saw no need to wait.”

  “Of course you did not,” Mairi said. He must have seen the anger in her eyes because he arched one dark brow at her. She resisted the urge to drill her heel into his foot. It would achieve nothing other than bruising her. But it certainly took some audacity, she thought, for Jack to send word to his family of a respectable betrothal at the same time as he was seducing her into his bed.

  “You have quite upset my plans of course, Jack,” Lady Methven said, her shrewd blue eyes searching Jack’s face. “I had invited a number of ladies to Methven in the hope that one of them might take your fancy as a future bride, but as they are now quite de trop they made their apologies and left this morning.”

  “I can hear the sound of hearts breaking all over Scotland,” Mairi murmured. Now she understood Jack’s haste in sending word of their engagement. He had spiked his grandmother’s plans for him very neatly.

  “I am very sorry, Grandmama,” Jack said, smiling so smugly that Mairi again had to resist the urge to slap him.

  “I doubt that very much, Jack,” Lady Methven said dryly. “Nor—” her glance warmed as it rested on Mairi again “—do you have anything to regret. You have a fiancée who is as accomplished, brave and beautiful as any you could find. Be sure to live up to that.”

  Mairi blushed. She felt humbled. She also felt guilty. It was impossible not to in the face of Lady Methven’s sincere pleasure at the betrothal. The very genuineness of Her Ladyship’s happiness made the pretense feel cheap and unworthy, and with each minute that passed it felt more and more difficult.

  Robert stepped forward to shake Jack’s hand. His eyes were alight with amusement as he looked from Mairi’s embarrassed face to Jack’s bland one. “I have to hand it to you, Jack,” he said. “I’ve known you a long time and yet you still have the power to surprise me.” He too kissed Mairi’s cheek. “Congratulations, Lady Mairi,” he said. “I am very happy for you both.”

  “As am I,” Lucy said. “Of course.” She gave her sister a meaningful stare. “But you and Jack! I can scarce believe it! I am most curious as to how your change of heart came about when you disliked him so intensely. Why, I remember you saying at our wedding that Jack was an arrogant pig and you loathed him—” She fell silent as Robert cleared his throat very loudly.

  Mairi blushed. Since Jack had been well aware of her dislike for him and had felt exactly the same way about her, she was at a loss as to why Lucy’s tactless remarks should embarrass her, but they did.

  “I became aware of all Mr. Rutherford’s fine qualities,” she said, and saw brilliant amusement flare in Jack’s eyes.

  “I daresay,” Lucy said on a note of wonder. “But—you and Jack together?”

  “Jack and I,” Mairi confirmed, privately resolving that if Lucy said that one more time she would throttle her sister.

  A scream rent the air so sharply that they all jumped. It seemed to echo off the surrounding mountains and fade away down the glen.

  “Good God,” Mairi said. “Has Wilfred launched another assault?”

  “I’m afraid that is Dulcibella,” Lucy said, as more screams followed. “She has been having the hysterics ever since last night when we learned that Wilfred had escaped from Edinburgh Jail. She is convinced that he is going to break in to the castle and murder her in her bed.”

  “I might beat Cardross to it if she does not stop soon,” Robert murmured, as Dulcibella’s screams rose to chandelier-shattering pitch. “A more self-absorbed creature would be hard to find. I almost feel sorry for your brother that he eloped with such a wife, and that is not a phrase I ever thought to utter.”

  “Robert,” Lucy said reproachfully. Her lips twitched into a smile she could not repress. “Poor Lachlan. He has a lot to bear.”

  “Never was there a clearer case of a man getting what he deserves,” Lady Methven said with rich satisfaction. “Just think, Robert. That could have been you.”

  “I give thanks every day that it is not,” Robert said, smiling at Lucy with such warmth in his eyes that Mairi felt a pang of envy.

  “We mustn’t keep you standing out here in the cold after your ordeal,” Lucy said quickly, sensing her sister’s discomfort. She took Mairi’s elbow, drawing her inside. The pitch of Dulcibella’s shrieks had dropped slightly, though there was still the sound of both male and female voices raised in anger and the thud of various heavy objects making contact with one of Methven’s walls. Something smashed.

  “I thought I had removed all the fragile china and other breakables from Dulcibella’s chamber,” Lucy said, frowning. “She is a shockingly expensive houseguest.”

  The crashing reverberated through Mairi’s head, waking the ache that was dormant there.

  “I think I will delay greeting Lachlan until later,” she said. “The rest of the family, as well. Is Papa here?”

  Lucy shook her head. “Papa is not well,” she said. “Nothing more serious than the gout, but in the end he preferred not to travel. Though I wonder...” She paused as the sound of Dulcibella and Lachlan’s quarrel rose once again in pitch. “Whether he simply could not face the thought of so much domestic strife.”

  Mairi noticed that the footmen standing on either side of the entrance door had turned pink and were trying to look as though they were not listening, but it was impossible to be deaf to the insults that were tumbling through the air.

  “Restrain yourself, wife!” Lachlan was bellowing while Dulcibella shrieked: “It’s all very well for you, you insensate oaf! He doesn’t want to kill you!”

  “It is frightful bad manners to inflict one’s hysterics on everyone else,” Lady Methven said. “If she is going to indulge, the wretched girl should indulge in private.”

  “Rather like a love affair,” Jack whispered in Mairi’s ear.

  Murdo and Hamish were bringing in her luggage. “I’ve put you in the blue room,” Lucy said, as she ushered her toward the elegant sweep of the main stair. “I know that you asked to be as far away from Jack as possible originally—”

  “Did you, my sweet?” Jack said, with a wicked smile.

  “But given your betrothal, I thought...” Lucy stopped, as though becoming aware that she might be leading the conversation in an indecorous direction. “Anyway—” She flapped her hands in a flustered manner. “Jack is in the adjacent suite of rooms should you need...I mean require...”

  “I would stop now,” Robert said, “before you make matters any worse.”

  “As long as I am in a different wing from Dulcibella,” Mairi said. Her head was aching monstrously now.

  “Never was a female more inaptly named,” Lady Methven said, as Dulcibella screamed something at Lachlan and ran off along the gallery, slamming the door behind her. She turned back to Mairi. “News of your betrothal only made matters worse, I’m afraid, my dear,” she said. “Lady Dulcibella does so hate not to be the center of attention, and when I mentioned that we would be holding a celebration ball for you and for Jack, she became even more shrill.”

  “Oh, please,”
Mairi said involuntarily, “this house party is supposed to be a celebration of Ewan’s christening, not of our engagement. I beg you not to make a fuss.”

  “Nonsense, my dear.” The dowager patted her arm. “It is a double celebration. But I realize you need to rest now. Such a nasty experience with that ghastly Cardross fellow. When you are stronger we must plan something.”

  Mairi felt a sinking feeling. Lady Methven was a force of nature and as cunning as she was charming. At this rate Her Ladyship would have booked the church and spoken to the minister. Mairi would not lay a wager against being married off before she had the chance to jilt Jack. When Lady Methven wanted something she got it, and Mairi could see quite clearly that the dowager was determined that Jack should wed.

  A group of men on horseback clattered into the courtyard. “We need to discuss Cardross’s attack,” Robert said. “Perhaps after dinner? You look done up for now, Mairi.” He turned to Jack. “I’m sending out patrols to hunt the man down. Do you want to join me on the next?”

  Mairi could see how much Jack wanted to go. She could sense the impatience in him, the desire to be outside doing something active. It struck her that in all the time she had known Jack Rutherford, there had always been that restiveness within him. He was always on the move, never settled. It was as though he did not know how to stay still.

  Jack grinned. “You read me like a book, Rob,” he said. He glanced at Mairi. “I will not be away long, sweetheart,” he said. “You need to rest anyway. We will talk later.”

  “Yes,” Mairi said. “We will.” She was starting to feel seriously annoyed by the casual endearments Jack used with such ease. Perhaps he addressed all his mistresses as “sweetheart” so that he did not need to remember their names. The thought did nothing to improve her temper.

  “Don’t let me keep you,” she added. “I have no need of you here.”