Seduced by a Rogue

by Amanda Scott

  “But I thought Annie was to stay with her,” Lady Kelso said. “I assure you, I mean to keep Eliza with me.”

  “Both chambers have strong bolts on them,” Rob said. “Mairi can throw hers and be as safe as she would be with any number of Annies. And Annie’s mother wants her home. So go along now, my lady, if you want her to aid you.”

  To his relief, Mairi got up at once and nodded for Annie to go with her.

  Satisfied, he sat down to chat with his grandmother, managing to deflect with glib replies her questions about what he planned to do. He wanted to discuss his thoughts and his half-formed plan first with Mairi.

  When he thought she had had sufficient time to prepare for bed, he bade Lady Kelso goodnight and went across the landing to rap lightly on Mairi’s door.

  Annie answered.

  “Ready to go?” he asked her.

  “Aye, laird,” she said with a smile.

  Leaning closer, he said, “Bid your mistress keep her eyes open yet a while.”

  Nodding, she said, “I’ll just fetch my cloak.” She pushed the door to and opened it a moment later wearing her hooded cloak.

  After turning her over to Fin, Rob went quietly back upstairs. Easing the latch on Mairi’s door up gently, he pushed the door open.

  She stood just a few feet away, looking expectant.

  Shutting the door, he opened his arms, and she walked into them.

  After kissing her thoroughly, he set her away from him and said, “We must talk. But Gran will have my head off me if she hears us, so we must not fratch.”

  “Are we likely to fratch?” she asked.

  “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I’m going to take you home.”

  Mairi’s breath caught in her throat. She had yearned for that moment from the day he had captured her. But had anyone asked about her feelings just then, she could not have described them.

  One thing she knew was that she did not want to think she might never see Rob again. At the same time, nothing good could come of wanting him. Nor did she dare let him see how much she wanted him, lest he decide not to take her home.

  Calling upon years of experience to keep her voice under control despite her feelings, she said evenly, “I cannot think why we should fratch about that, sir. We both knew the time would come when you would have to let me go back.”

  “Aye, lass, and now is that time. Although you must not speak of this to anyone, even Annie, I will tell you what I mean to do. Parland Dow is taking a message from me to your father. He’ll tell him I’ve learned of your whereabouts, and if he will take his army back to Annandale, I’ll return you safely to him.”

  She swallowed hard. “I expect you mean to take me back yourself, sir. But you would be wiser to entrust me to your helmsman and crew.”

  “Nay, I took you from your home, lass. I will take you back. Not another word now,” he added, putting a finger to her lips. “We’d only fratch.”

  Moving his hands to her waist, she said, “Hold me.” When he complied, she leaned into him, savoring his warmth and his strength. She imagined him sweeping her off to a place even farther away, where no one could ever find them.

  She thought then of her father and wondered if his fury was because of her abduction and his concern for her safety, or if it had erupted over his apparent belief that the sheriff had got the better of him in their continuing dispute.

  She wanted to believe Dunwythie cared deeply about her. But experience told her that Phaeline was the only female for whom he ever spared much thought.

  Not that she begrudged the attention he paid Phaeline, for she did not. Her own life had been comfortable enough. But never, until Rob had come into it, had she known anyone to whom she could speak her thoughts as she thought them. She would miss him for that but also for many other reasons.

  She hugged him tighter and tilted her face up, hoping he would kiss her again.

  He did not hesitate, and she sighed with pleasure as his warm lips captured hers. Hers parted at once, and she savored the taste of him, noting a difference from the night before, which she ascribed to the whisky he had drunk with Fin Walters.

  “Prithee, take me to bed, just one more time,” she said.

  “I should not,” he said, his voice no more than a rough mutter.

  She did not speak. She just held him and nuzzled her head into the hollow of his shoulder. Letting her hands wander as they would, she felt the hard muscles under his doublet and remembered how his skin had felt next to hers.

  He tensed, and just when she thought he might have heard something, he caught her up in his arms and carried her to the bed.

  Then, without a word, he turned back toward the door.

  Bolting the door, and telling himself that he was more fool than ever but refusing to sacrifice the last night they might have, Rob returned to the bed, undressed her, then stripped off his own clothes and climbed into bed with her.

  His head was clearer that night, though, despite the whisky he’d had. So, although he pleasured her and took pleasure for himself, he took more care. If he had not given her a child the previous night, he would not do so now.

  He also took care not to visit her again and, two days later, greeted the shout from the ramparts that smoke was billowing in the east with as much relief as regret.

  Chapter 16

  Running up to see for himself, Rob saw at once that the angle was wrong for the smoke to be rising in Dumfries. It rose from hills farther away, to the southeast.

  Either Parland Dow had met Dunwythie before he reached Dumfries, or someone else had lit a signal fire.

  The thick smoke persuaded Rob that Dow was responsible. Having already warned his oarsmen and Jake to be ready, he went downstairs and shouted for Gib.

  “Go and tell Jake Elliot that I’ll want to take the morning tide just as I did before,” Rob said with emphasis. “Mind now, Gib, not a word to anyone else.”

  “I be a-going, too, then,” Gib said. “Like before.”

  Refusal was on Rob’s lips when he realized that the boy might be safer with him. He could trust Lady Kelso to protect him inside the wall, and mayhap Gib would stay inside. But the lad had much initiative and more curiosity, which could be a dangerous combination in one so young.

  Rob did not trust Alex. He was sure that if Alex thought Gib knew something and decided to get it out of him, he would find a way.

  In any event, Gib might be useful on the trip in other ways, too, Rob thought. Mairi would enjoy the lad’s company, for one.

  “Very well,” he said. “You may go. But you will come back here after you give my message to Jake, and you will keep near me today.”

  Finding the four women together in the great chamber, he sent Annie and Eliza away so he could speak privately with his grandmother and Mairi.

  “Dow met with Dunwythie, and his lordship has agreed to return to Annan,” he told them. “So I hope to leave well before dawn tomorrow.”

  “Are you sure all is well?” Lady Kelso demanded. “How can you know?”

  “I’m as sure as I can be without waiting for Dow to return,” he said. “If I’m wrong, and he is on his way, then I can still get Mairi safely away to Annan House.”

  Seeing her nod, he added, “Your task, Gran, will be to see that Alex does not suspect anyone has left the tower other than folks going about their usual duties or going to their cottages. I want him to suspect that the signal fire means Dunwythie is on his way to Dumfries. Alex will then stay right here as he has planned to do.”

  “I won’t stand for a clan war on this doorstep,” Lady Kelso said tartly. “So see that you manage your end of the business well, my lad.”

  “Aye, madam,” he said. “If all goes as it should, we will leave before the early incoming tide stems up and I’ll be back with the evening ebb.”

  “But how will you get Mairi out of the tower?” she asked. “Surely not…”

  “She knows all about the cavern,” he said, with a quick smile for Mairi.
“’Tis how I brought her in. More important is the fact that Alex does not know about it, for I have never told him, and I’m sure that Grandfather did not, either.”

  “What do you want me to do?” Mairi asked.

  “Prepare to leave, lass,” he said. “Take what you like of the things you have worn here, or nowt if you prefer to forget them all. I will scratch at your door when it is time to go. But tell Annie no more than you must. She should behave as if you were still here, so tell her she must come at her usual time, collect the usual trays, and go home at her usual time. If Alex demands entrance to the tower, Gran,” he added, “do as you think best, but do not let him upstairs on any excuse.”

  “Aye, I can manage him,” she said. “I vow, though, I will miss you, Mairi.”

  Rob did not want to think about missing Mairi. Giving her one more, hasty smile, he took leave of them and went to have another word with Gib.

  The rest of the day and evening crawled by. But, at last, it was time to go.

  Mairi was ready, wearing her cloak, and listening for Rob. She barely heard the first scratch before she pulled the door open. He carried a lantern, so when he reached for the small bundle she had prepared, she refused to let him take it.

  “I can carry it easily,” she said. “’Tis only one gown, two shifts, and one tunic, so it is not at all heavy or cumbersome.”

  Gibby waited at the turn of the stairs. When she expressed her surprise to see him there, he hefted two small baskets.

  “Food,” he said sleepily. “Herself did order some for ye.”

  They hurried down to the storage chamber, where Rob opened the cavern door, pushed the latch chain through its hole to the outer side, and closed it when they were on the stairs. Only then did Mairi realize that Gib was going with them.

  The galley was waiting at the wharf, so they were off and, before long, riding the flood tide up the Firth. Along the way, Gib opened one basket of food and provided Mairi and Rob with bread and cheese to break their fast. They arrived at Annan House soon after dawn, so they had no need of his second basket.

  “Faith, I cannot believe it,” Mairi said quietly as they made their way the short distance up the river Annan to where the galley had beached before. “It all looks just the same.”

  “Sakes,” Gib said. “’Tis the same place. Did ye expect it to look different?”

  “I suppose I did,” she said.

  “Come now,” Rob said to her as men jumped to drag the boat higher on the shore. “We’ll walk up together. You lot wait here for me,” he told his crew. “If I’m not back within the hour, go into Annan harbor and wait there.”

  “I’ll just come along wi’ ye now,” Gib said.

  “Aye, Gib, you should,” Mairi said hastily when Rob hesitated. “If aught goes amiss, you can run back and warn Jake Elliot.”

  “Nay, he should not,” Rob said. “You wait until I know it is safe to come up, Gib. Until then, though, you stay here and look after that basket of food. I’ll take your bundle now, lass,” he added, reaching for it. “No need for you to carry it up the hill.”

  She handed it to him, and they took the path she had taken the day he abducted her. To her astonishment, as they crested the hill, she saw that the gates stood open.

  Inside the yard, many horses neighed and stamped the cobbles.

  “Mercy, are they just now returning?” Mairi asked. “I’d have expected them to get home yestereve.”

  “Aye, they would have,” Rob said. “That looks as if they are leaving again.”

  As they entered the courtyard, she saw Jopson rushing toward her.

  “My lady, ’tis a gey great blessing to see ye home again! But there has been grave mischief a-brewing here, and the laird be in a rare kippage.”

  “This is our steward,” she said to Rob. “Good sakes, Jopson! What is amiss?”

  “’Tis the lady Fiona, m’lady. She ran off wi’ that Jardine. And the laird…I’m telling ye, I dinna like the look o’ him, withal. The man be ripe for murder!”

  The ground seemed to shift beneath her. Horses blurred, voices buzzed.

  Rob put a hand swiftly under Mairi’s elbow when he saw her sway, wishing fervently that he dared put his arm right around her and hold her close.

  She straightened, blinking and biting her lip, visibly taking herself in hand. “Where is my father?” she asked. “Does he know yet that I am home?”

  “Nay, m’lady,” the steward said. “Seeing just one man and a woman walking up the hill, the men on the wall wouldna ha’ thought it were trouble a-coming. Not wi’ the gate open and all o’ us men here well armed. Forbye, what fools would ye be to walk into an army did ye mean mischief? This army will soon grow, too,” he added grimly. “His lordship does expect to gather dunamany more as he rides up the dale to fetch her ladyship home.”

  “I should go with him,” Rob murmured for Mairi’s ears alone.

  “Sakes, no, sir,” she said sharply, apparently not caring who heard her. “You should leave is what you should do. If he is enraged over this latest start of Fiona’s—Faith, though, I could slap her senseless. And what I’d like to do to your good friend Will Jardine… Well, it would get me hanged, I expect.”

  “Will Jardine is no friend of mine, for all that he may once have looked so,” Rob said. “Jardines have often ridden with Maxwells, so we count them amongst our allies. But rarely does anyone count them as friends. It was but a—”

  Dunwythie was striding across the yard toward them, his face choleric.

  “Och, and so ye did bring the lass home again, did ye, Maxwell?” he snapped. “Had I but time to deal wi’ ye now, and could do the right thing, I’d hang ye sure. But I’m no a man to go back on my word, whatever others may do. And I did tell Parland Dow I’d leave ye go in peace. So I will. But he said I ought to thank ye for putting my Mairi’s safety afore aught else. And that I will not do. To my mind, there be nae difference betwixt ye and yon thieving Will Jardine!”

  His lordship’s face was nearly purple. His entire torso shook with his rage.

  “My lord, pray calm yourself,” Rob urged. “I swear to you, I condemn what Will Jardine has done and would help set it right. By my troth, sir, if you will allow me, I would ride with you and lend my strong sword arm to your cause.”

  “Nay, then! But ye will get yourself hence from here as fast as ye can go! I have nae need of such help as yours. Nor would I be fool enough to trust that ye’d aid me against a Jardine.”

  “Father, prithee,” Mairi said.

  “Nae more talk,” he said. “I must go. But before I do, lass, ye should ken this much. I turned that Flory girl off for aiding your sister, so dinna be taking her back again! And, to protect ye, lest I fail to end Will Jardine’s mischief—aye, and Will Jardine, too—I altered my will to leave this house and its estates nae longer to Fiona but to ye as my heiress unless the babe my lady wife carries proves to be male.”

  “But, sir—”

  “Nay, Mairi,” he added fiercely. “By the Rood ye must promise me, lass, that if aught should happen to me, ye will not sign over this house or any of its lands to Fiona as long as she is with any man o’ that villainous tribe!”

  “I do promise, my lord,” Mairi said solemnly. “But you should not ride as you are, sir! In troth, you do not look well. Art so sure our Fiona left willingly?”

  “Aye, because the daft lass met with that scoundrel dunamany times these past weeks—sakes, even afore ye left us,” he retorted as if, Rob thought, his lordship blamed Mairi for her sister’s mischief.

  He nearly spoke up to defend her, realized he would only make things worse, and kept silent. It made no difference, because Dunwythie rounded next on him.

  “You!” he exclaimed, pointing a shaking finger. “This be all on your head, yours and your thieving brother’s heads both! Trying to turn all here upside down to your own benefit, and from nowt but greed. Greed for power, greed for gelt! ’Tis all that matters to Maxwells and their sort! May God curse
them all from now through eternity. And Jardines! May they be twice cursed beyond Maxwells as—”

  He was screaming the curses. But as the stream of words broke, he looked at Mairi with his mouth still open.

  She reached toward him, clearly meaning to soothe him.

  Rob moved to stop her, fearing he knew not what from his lordship in response, yet something.

  But the man only gaped at her glassy-eyed for a too-long moment before he crumpled to the ground.

  Rob heard Mairi cry out as he dropped to one knee beside Dunwythie.

  His lordship’s eyes were fixed, still staring. His breathing had stopped. When shaking him drew no response, Rob felt for his lordship’s neck where a man’s pulse usually beat strongly. Finding no movement there, he looked to the steward and said, “He is gone. If you will look after him, I will take the lady Mairi—”

  “Nay!” she cried, falling to her knees beside her father and bending over him. Urgently, she shook him as Rob had, but with tears streaming down her cheeks.

  “With respect, sir,” the steward said quietly to Rob, “I would send a man for the lady Phaeline. We must tell her in any event, and I ha’ nae doots she will attend to the lady Mairi, too. So, mayhap it would be wiser did ye go now, whilst ye still can. There be some here as would ha’ your eyes, sithee—wi’ respect, sir.”

  “Send for the lady Phaeline by all means,” Rob said. “But I will stay here unless the lady Mairi herself bids me go.”

  The steward looked long at him.

  Only when Rob saw the man’s expression shift from stern determination to acceptance did he turn back to Mairi. “Come, my lady,” he said gently. “You can do nowt for him now. He is at peace.”