How to Ensnare a Highlander (The MacGregor Lairds)

by McLean, Michelle

  “Are you going to explain why you’ve been here half a week and haven’t been to say hello?”

  “Ah…no.”

  “Well, then. Are you going to invite me in or leave me standing in your yard?”

  Elizabet smiled. She liked this woman already.

  “How did ye know I was up here?”

  A delicate snort sounded. “The whole valley knew of your return three days before you did.”

  Jack chuckled. “Aye. Word does travel quickly in the Highlands.”

  “That’s an understatement.” The woman stepped inside and hugged Jack, though her back was still to Elizabet. “It’s good to see you, J—”

  “Jack.”

  There was a slight pause and Elizabet wished she could see the woman’s face.

  “Jack,” she repeated, her tone full of question. And amusement. “Well now, let’s see if the rest of the rumors are true…”

  She turned and saw Elizabet sitting propped up in the bed. “I see the gossipmongers haven’t disappointed us this time.” She glanced back at Jack. “I asked you to bring me back a present from England J…Jack. But this isn’t quite what I had in mind.”

  “She is far prettier than anything else I saw there,” he said, smiling and looking straight at Elizabet, who couldn’t help the blush that crept to her cheeks.

  “Indeed,” the woman said, turning an amused and speculative grin on him.

  Jack pulled her to the side and spoke low enough Elizabet couldn’t hear. Though, from the woman’s expression, which alternated between surprised, dismayed, and worried, Elizabet assumed he explained their predicament. She finally nodded and patted his arm before making her way over.

  Elizabet watched her as she came toward the bed. With her raven hair and striking blue eyes, the woman’s beauty made Elizabet look drab in comparison. She gave Elizabet a warm smile and sat beside her on the bed.

  “And how are you feeling this morning?” she asked, leaning forward to feel Elizabet’s head. “The fever appears to have broken.”

  “I’m quite well. A bit sore,” she said, nodding at her arm. “But well otherwise. Thank you.”

  “Very glad to hear it. Granny sent me over to check on you. Poor dear is feeling a bit under the weather herself.” She fussed over her a bit longer, making sure all was well. “Another few days I think and you’ll be right as rain, Miss…?”

  “Elizabet. Harding,” she said.

  The woman’s gaze flicked briefly to Jack. “I’m very pleased to meet you, Lady Elizabet.”

  Elizabet frowned. “You know of my father, then?”

  “I’ve heard mention of him a time or two,” she said, her gaze straying back to Jack before returning to Elizabet. “And you must call me—”

  “Don’t tell her who ye are,” Jack said.

  The woman rolled her eyes. “My name is Sorcha MacGregor,” she said.

  Jack blew out a breath, threw his hands up, and went to pace in front of the hearth.

  “Sorcha?” Elizabet said, her eyes widening in recognition. “I remember you. Or, I’ve heard of you, at least. At court. Your hasty wedding was quite the gossip for a time.”

  Sorcha’s delicate black brows rose. “Was it now?”

  “Oh, yes. Everyone chattered about how you’d been forced to marry the great Scottish beast they called the Lion, dragged up here and no one ever heard from you again.”

  Sorcha laughed. “Well, he can be a bit beastly when the mood strikes him, but he’s not so bad.”

  Elizabet gave her a smile. “Happy to hear it, my lady.”

  Seeing Sorcha so happy did truly ease Elizabet’s troubled heart some. She’d thought of the gossip surrounding Sorcha often, ever since her father had entered into negotiations with Fergus. A poor English girl being forced to marry a Scottish brute? Their fates had seemed parallel. Though somehow, Elizabet didn’t think she’d have such a happy ending as Sorcha, if she married Fergus. He didn’t seem the type to care about the happiness of his bride.

  Sorcha must have been thinking along the same lines. “I have a feeling your wedding may surpass mine with the gossip, particularly after this adventure.”

  Elizabet nodded, then frowned. “If there is a wedding. Who would marry a woman who’s gone missing for several weeks, especially if it is known with whom I’m missing?”

  “Yes,” Sorcha said, flashing a raised eyebrow back at Jack. “Though perhaps that is for the best. I can’t imagine any marriage that includes my half brother having a happy ending.”

  Elizabet’s gaze flew to Sorcha, her body nearly trembling with shock. “Your half brother?”

  Sorcha nodded. “Fergus Campbell. Or…whatever he is calling himself these days. We share a father. And very little else. While I’d welcome a beautiful new sister,” she said with a soft smile, “I wouldn’t wish Fergus on anyone. Perhaps Jack has done you more of a favor than he intended.”

  Elizabet glanced over to where Jack leaned against the wall, watching them while keeping an eye on the courtyard through the window.

  “Perhaps he has,” she agreed. He looked over, and their gazes met. The smile he gave her sent a fine tremble through her body, and she bit her bottom lip, hoping the small, sharp pain would refocus her mind on Sorcha instead of the devilishly handsome rogue who gazed at her with such intensity.

  Before she could say anything else, the door opened again and an older woman carrying an overflowing basket and an armful of clothing bustled in. She deposited everything on the table and looked around with disapproval, her frown deepening when she caught sight of Elizabet in the bed.

  “Really. What is it with you MacGregors? The lot of you can’t be trusted at all. At least not with respectable English ladies.” She glanced at him, barely changing expression when she saw the mask. “Can’t say I’m surprised,” she said, flicking a finger at it.

  “Ah, Berta!” Jack said, sweeping the old woman into his arms and twirling her about. “Ye know we canna resist you beautiful English roses.”

  He gave her a sound kiss and set a now giggling Berta back on her feet.

  “Oh, you,” she said, giving him a playful push.

  Elizabet couldn’t help smiling at his charming antics. She should probably be screaming, begging these women for help. But Jack had done nothing to threaten her. He hadn’t even been the one to injure her in the first place and had gone to great lengths to bring her back to health.

  Being so far from home did concern her somewhat. Then again, for the first time in her life, her parents couldn’t touch her. Couldn’t force an unwanted marriage to a loathsome man on her. Eventually, she would have to return. But until then, she would relish her small taste of freedom and enjoy the adventure of it all. And if that meant spending a little more time with a charming highwayman, that was a sacrifice she would willingly make.

  Chapter Six

  Elizabet stretched her arm. Though still tender and bruised, it was well on its way to healing. There was no reason she couldn’t travel. Yet still, Jack made no mention of taking her home. Far from finding this disturbing, the opportunity to extend her stay thrilled Elizabet. She didn’t remember her first several days at Glenlyon, of course. But since she’d woken a few days before, she’d been thoroughly enjoying her time at the cottage. Jack kept her warm, comfortable, and she had a breathtaking view of the loch from the window by the bed. She’d been visited twice more by the lovely Sorcha, whose charm, beauty, and confidence made her someone Elizabet would very much enjoy getting to know better. And every other waking minute had been spent with the man she should probably loathe.

  Speaking of…

  The door to the small cottage opened, and Jack came in, carrying a stack of wood.

  “Ah, ye’re awake. How are ye feeling today?”

  “Better, thank you.” She watched him as he set the wood down by the fire, admiring the bunching of his muscles. The way his shirt pulled taut across his back. The glimpses of his calves and knees when his plaid moved. She’d never c
onsidered knees to be particularly attractive before. Until she’d seen his.

  He turned and caught her gaze. She looked quickly away but not before she saw his amused smile.

  He came to sit by her. “I hope ye’re comfortable.”

  “I am, thank you.”

  “I’m sure this is a far cry from yer family’s estates. Or the palace’s marbled halls, if ye stay at the court of our illustrious king.”

  Elizabet cocked her head, considering him. “You don’t seem to like our king overly much.”

  “Och, I like him fine enough. It’s his policies I dinna always approve of, or his reluctance to enforce some of them, I should say.”

  “Seems as though you benefit from some of those lax laws,” she said with a small smile.

  He gave her an answering smile. “I may break a few laws from time to time in order to right a few others.”

  Before she could respond, he stood and looked around the cottage. “I didna mean to disturb yer rest, but I wanted to see if there was anything ye needed…”

  “I’m fine, thank you. You may find it strange, but I haven’t missed the comforts of home all that much. In fact, it’s been a relief to get away from the relentless pressure to always behave a certain way. After all, a slovenly, unattractive girl will never catch herself a wealthy husband. According to my mother, at least, that is my sole purpose in life. Therefore, most of her waking moments are put to obtaining the best match possible.”

  “Well, I could nag ye a bit more, if it would make ye feel more at home. Or bring Berta by. The woman could nag the devil himself into being a saint.”

  That surprised a laughing snort out of her. She slapped a hand over her mouth, mortified. But far from being appalled, Jack laughed. A great, loud belly laugh that made Elizabet laugh along with him.

  This is what she loved. With Jack, she could be herself. The man was insanely difficult to coax into speech. At least anything of a personal nature. But he accepted her without question. A refreshing change that she relished.

  “Let’s see to yer arm now, shall we?” he asked, gently unwrapping her bandage.

  She’d come to look forward to the hour when he’d re-dress her shoulder. She’d never known anyone so large to be so gentle. From the way his fingers skimmed across her skin to how he carefully wrapped the linen around her arm. Each brush of his hand sent a riot of sensations rushing through her body. She swore he lingered far longer than necessary. He must be as affected as she. She’d been well enough to travel for a couple of days, and she did worry about her parents. Surely even they were concerned for her. But she would be going home soon enough. For now, she tried to put everything else from her mind so she could savor these moments of freedom.

  “What are ye thinking about so fiercely?” he asked, reaching for a new bandage.

  She shrugged with her uninjured shoulder. “Only that you seem perfectly happy to listen to me chatter away about whatever nonsense enters my head, but you don’t reciprocate much.”

  “Do ye expect me to?”

  “No, not really. After all, you still wear that ridiculous mask when you are near me. Naturally, I can’t expect you to be going about spilling all your secrets.”

  “But?”

  She smiled. “I suppose I find it odd that I feel so comfortable saying anything at all to you when truthfully, I don’t know you at all. And under the circumstances…”

  “I’m not who ye’d expect as a confidant, eh?”

  “Something like that.”

  “So what sorts of things can ye tell me that would scandalize less disreputable folk?”

  She shook her head. “Nothing in particular comes to mind.”

  “Och, come now. What is the last thing yer mother scolded ye for?”

  Elizabet laughed. “What hasn’t she scolded me for might be easier to tell you.”

  A blond eyebrow rose over the mask, and she sighed. “Well, the last thing I said that truly horrified her, other than my wish to avoid the match with Mr. Ramsay, of course, was that church services bore me to tears.”

  Jack gasped and sat back from her. “Heathen!”

  Elizabet giggled. “And that I thought the king’s mistress, the Countess of Castlemaine, is actually quite lovely and entertaining company. Personally, I applaud her. She is wealthy, powerful, and she and the king seem quite happy together—when he isn’t with his wife or another mistress. Still, she has the run of court, acts in any way she pleases, and has the king himself showering her with whatever she wishes. There are worse ways to live.”

  “Aye, that’s true enough.”

  “Had I said those things to my mother, I’d have been slapped and sent to my room without supper. At best. My mother plays nice when at court but does nothing but spew judgment and condemnation in private.”

  “Oh, aye. I prefer to spew my judgment and condemnation openly. Hence, the mask and odd nightly activities.”

  “Well, I don’t know how open it is, if you’re hiding behind that mask,” she said, resisting the urge to reach out and pluck it off.

  But again, Jack merely smiled. “There’s being open and being daft. I’ll tell those I judge why I condemn them. But I dinna see the benefit in letting them know more about me than they already do.”

  “They might disagree.”

  “I’m certain they do. Then again, I’m no’ asking their opinion on the matter.” He winked at her and finished binding her arm before tucking her blanket firmly about her.

  She’d worn nothing but a chemise around him in the days she’d been there. Jack had said her gown was in the armoire. But it would be too uncomfortable and out of place in her current surroundings. And as she mostly stayed in bed or sat in a chair by the window, she’d seen no need to do more than wrap a quilt about her for modesty. Though he’d already seen more than the quilt would cover anyway. Another fact that would horrify her mother.

  “Yer arm is almost good as new.” He stood and cleaned up his bandage supplies. “Is there aught ye need?”

  “I’ve been cooped up in here for days now. Can’t I go outside for a bit?”

  He finished putting the strips of linen and ointment away before he answered. “I suppose I could allow that. For a short time,” he warned.

  She nodded eagerly, and he watched her, as if he were trying to gauge the safety of allowing her more freedom.

  “Would it help if I promised not to run off?” she said.

  He grinned at that. “Wouldna matter if ye did. Ye wouldna get far. All right, then.” He pulled back the blanket and helped her up, slipping a pair of boots onto her feet that Sorcha had brought for her.

  He wrapped a thick shawl about her shoulders and led her outside. Elizabet took a deep breath of the crisp, fresh air and smiled, turning her face up to the sun. The cottage sat nestled in a small clearing on a wooded hill. A brook babbled nearby, but she heard no voices or sounds that would indicate other people were in the area.

  Jack took her hand and led her up a small trail, matching his pace to hers. When they came out of the trees, Elizabet looked around, her breath catching in a quiet gasp. From atop their hill, she could see the whole valley below them. A modest castle stood proud and majestic on the banks of a loch, a small village spread out around it. The sun shone off the water, glistening against the gentle loll of the waves.

  “It’s so beautiful,” she said, in awe of her surroundings.

  “Aye, that it is.”

  “This is your home?”

  He nodded. “I grew up here, though I have my own lands. Just over that ridge,” he said, pointing to a row of hills in the distance. “But there’s nothing there but a pile of rubble that used to be my home.”

  “What happened to it?”

  “The keep and surrounding fields were destroyed in the skirmishes with the Campbells. My father wanted to rebuild. But he died before he could.”

  “Will you rebuild?”

  He shrugged. “I suppose I might. Someday. But I always have a home he
re, if I need one.”

  She glanced up at him. “Why do you leave here to roam the roads to London? Weren’t you happy?”

  He gave her a faint smile, though his gaze stayed on the scene below. “Some things are more important than my own happiness.”

  He took a deep breath and seemed to shake off his seriousness as a dog would divest itself of water. “Come. There’s a small brook not far from here with a great clump of berry bushes.”

  “Berries? It seems ages since I had fresh berries.”

  “Well, then. We shall gorge ourselves until we can hold no more.”

  She took his hand eagerly and made to follow, except in her haste she let part of her shawl trail on the ground. The fabric wound about her ankle, entangling her already unsteady feet. She didn’t have a chance.

  Jack attempted to stop her headlong plunge down the slope of the hill. Instead, she managed to pull him with her. He did at least slow her enough that she didn’t topple end over end all the way to the bottom. But they left a nice trail of disturbed earth in their path as they careened down.

  As soon as they stopped tumbling, Jack immediately crawled over to her. “Are ye all right, lass?”

  She grunted in reply, and he gave her an amused grin, though concern still creased his brow. He ran his hands over her, checking her ribs, her limbs, and gently probed her shoulder. She sucked in a breath at that.

  “How is it?” he asked.

  “I’ll do,” she said, though she briefly considered curling into a ball and moaning until the throbbing went away.

  “Can ye sit?”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Probably. I hadn’t planned on it, though.”

  He laughed and wrapped an arm around her to help her up. “Come on, then. It would be best if we didna sit down here all the day long.”

  “Really? Sounds like a fine idea to me.”

  “Och. Yer’re stronger than that.” He stood and pulled her up and into his arms. “But I’d be happy to assist ye all the same.”

  She should resist. Tell him to put her down. But she had no intention of doing either of those things, because being in his arms fulfilled her dearest desire. So she wrapped an arm about his neck and let him hold her.