Claiming the Highlander's Heart

by Lily Maxton

  “Hell and blast!” she suddenly blurted out.

  It was not the worst expression she’d ever heard. But Georgina never swore, and they were in polite company. Though, if there was ever an occasion for swearing, it seemed like this was it.

  Annabel and Theo gaped at her.

  Rochester sniffed haughtily.

  “You have to help him.”

  “I don’t have to do anything,” Theo said, a chill in his voice. “We welcomed him into our home and he betrayed our trust. He attempted to rob a man.”

  “But…it must have been a mistake! You can’t let this go to trial…he could be hanged!”

  “I doubt that. It’s more likely he’ll be transported,” Theo said. “And Mr. Rochester and the coachman are the main witnesses. It’s not up to me.”

  Georgina’s heart felt like it was going to slam right out of her chest. It might not be up to Theo, but he could at least try to persuade Rochester and the coachman to drop their accusations. He wasn’t doing anything—except acting like Mal was getting what he deserved.

  “It’s more likely he’ll be transported,” Georgina agreed, voice shaking with fury, “unless they decide to make an example of him. You know it’s happened before.”

  “Stop this,” Theo said. “I know you liked him, but he was not what he seemed.”

  Her nails bit hard into her palms.

  “He is a criminal, my dear,” Rochester put in unhelpfully. “Justice will do its work.”

  Her head jerked toward him, and maybe it was unfair, but all of her anger sharpened on the man. “You don’t sound very Scottish, Mr. Rochester.”

  “Oh,” he said pleasantly. “I was born in Edinburgh, but raised in London.”

  “Do you speak Gaelic?”

  “I’ve studied Gaelic, yes.”

  “Dè do bheachd air a ‘Ghàidhealtachd?”

  He paused. “Yes, of course.”

  “I asked what you think of the Highlands.”

  He shot her a smile, but it was pinched around the edges. Georgina could tell he was only wishing she’d stop talking. Well, she wasn’t about to oblige him. “I can read it, adequately. I’m not quite fluent at speaking.”

  “But two of your students only speak Gaelic.”

  “I’ll have to put a stop to that right away,” he said, like it was the obvious conclusion.

  Georgina glanced at Annabel, who was chewing on her bottom lip.

  “Would it not be best if English and Gaelic were spoken in your classroom?” Annabel asked.

  Mr. Rochester rubbed at his forehead tiredly. “I don’t see why that should be,” he said, without really giving an explanation. “Scotland is a part of England, after all. It’s not a separate country.”

  “There’s a girl who enjoys mathematics,” Georgina continued obstinately. “But she requires a little more attention to learn it. Will you provide that?”

  Rochester grimaced, as if he’d tasted something unpleasant. “Why does the girl want to learn mathematics in the first place? It’s not like she’ll have any use for it, aside from basic adding and subtracting.”

  Annabel looked horrified.

  Georgina nodded, savage triumph twisting in her chest. He might be taking Mal’s place, but he would never be as good as Mal. “I’ve heard enough. Good day, sir.”

  And then, as quickly as she’d come in, she exited the library with a clipped, furious stride.

  Theo might not be willing to help, but she wasn’t about to let Malcolm Stewart rot in a gaol cell.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Georgina managed to find the cottage where Lachlan and the others were hiding before dark. She had some sense they would stay as close to Mal as they could, and there were only two unoccupied dwellings that far north on Arden land.

  When she saw a faint light coming from the windows of one of the cottages, a spot of brightness in the gray day, she knew it was them.

  Just as she had so many weeks ago, she crossed their threshold like a phantom. Lachlan and Ewan were sitting at the table, talking about the Oban gaol; Andrew was staring broodingly into the fire.

  Even though they looked miserable, she felt a pang of fondness. And a pang of unease—would they welcome her, or would they turn her away? She’d left them in the dead of night, without even saying goodbye. She wouldn’t blame them if they didn’t want to see her.

  “Good day,” she said, when there was a lull in the conversation and Lachlan took a breath to speak.

  Ewan fell out of his chair. Andrew turned toward her swiftly. Lachlan glanced up.

  “You’re still poor watchmen,” she noted.

  “Cat!” Ewan scrambled off the floor. “I didn’t think we’d ever see you again.”

  “I know,” she said. “But I’m here now.”

  “It’s not Cat,” Lachlan said, and they all looked at him. Georgina’s spine stiffened. “Her name is Georgina.” He nodded to her. “It’s good to see you…even if you sound like a duchess now.”

  She felt herself relax. A small smile curved her lips.

  “Do we have to call you Lady Georgina?” Ewan asked, looking startled.

  “No. I’m not a lady.”

  Andrew frowned. “But your brother’s an earl.”

  “Yes, but my father wasn’t an earl. My grandfather was, but the title was passed through the maternal line in lieu of any male heirs—which isn’t entirely uncommon with Scottish titles. Anyway, my father was only a physician, which means I don’t receive a courtesy title…” She trailed off when she realized they were looking more confused than ever.

  “None of that makes any sense,” Lachlan said. “It’s like you’re speaking a different language.”

  Georgina laughed suddenly. “You’re right. It really doesn’t make any sense at all, does it?”

  Lachlan’s mouth twitched.

  “I do hope you’re planning a gaol break.”

  “And why is that?” Lachlan asked.

  “Because I want to help.”

  …

  The gaol in Oban was a tiny stone structure. They reached it after nightfall and saw one gaoler standing guard outside a wooden door. The only opening in the door was near the top, no more than six inches wide or long, and covered with metal bars. Faint torchlight shone on the guard, but none of it would reach the inside of the cell.

  Mal would be sitting in the dark in that tiny, cramped space.

  Cold fury filled Georgina’s chest.

  “Can you pick the lock?” she whispered to Lachlan.

  He frowned, peering through shadow. “It looks more intricate than what people have in their houses…I could try, but I’m not sure.”

  “So, ideally, we need to steal the key before we distract the guard.”

  “Andrew used to pick pockets,” Lachlan said.

  “I’m a little rusty.”

  “You’ll have to do your best,” Georgina said.

  “Aye, lass.”

  “And Ewan can be our lookout. Don’t get distracted,” she told him.

  He nodded. She could barely see him, but she caught the motion of his head.

  “All right, do we all know what to do?”

  She waited as, one by one, they answered, “Aye,” and then, blood surging, heart pounding a fierce, heady rhythm, she pushed to her feet. “Let’s go, then.”

  Lachlan waited in a nearby alley, while Andrew and Georgina walked straight toward the gaol. Andrew had his arm slung over Georgina’s shoulder, and he leaned on her, walking with a loose, stumbling gait.

  He made a show of tripping and falling when they’d almost reached the gaoler. Georgina grimaced and knelt down to try and help him up.

  “You’re too heavy!” she exclaimed. “We’ll never get home like this.” She infused her voice with as much teary distress as she possibly could, and she must have succeeded, because the gaoler stepped toward them.

  “Everything all right, miss?”

  “My brother…” She put on a Highland accent. “My ma told me
to bring him home tonight, but he’s drunk off his feet.”

  The gaoler nodded sympathetically. “There’s a well at the end of the lane. Some cold water from that should do the trick.” He leaned down to take Andrew’s arm. “Here, up you go.”

  The gaoler didn’t notice as Andrew slipped the key ring from his waist, tossing it back so it landed in the dirt near Georgina’s feet. She stepped forward, hiding the keys from view.

  The gaoler grunted when he straightened and Andrew’s full weight draped over him.

  “Can you take him?” She widened her eyes, dug her teeth into her lower lip. Helpless and imploring were not states Georgina was very familiar with, but she did her best. “He’s just too heavy for me, and Ma will be so angry if he’s not back soon.”

  The gaoler sighed but capitulated in the end. “Aye. Wait here.”

  “Thank you!” she called after them.

  She waited until they’d turned the corner, and then she picked up the keys and rushed to the door. Lachlan came up beside her, bearing the torch that lit the outer wall of the gaol. The lock unhitched with a satisfying click, and she flung the door open.

  “Mal!”

  The torchlight fell on him. He was alone. He’d been sleeping, half sitting, tucked into the corner of the cell. Now he blinked awake.

  “Georgina?” His voice was raspy from sleep, and vulnerable, and hopeful, and her breath hitched.

  “It’s me,” she said unnecessarily, stepping past the threshold. “We’re here to break you out.”

  He looked past her. “Lachlan.”

  “I’m sorry, Mal. You were right.”

  Georgina held out her hand, but Mal didn’t take it.

  “Thank you for coming to get me,” he said. “But I’m not going with you.”

  Her hand froze in midair and then fell. “You have to come with us.”

  “When I came home to find my family gone, I had this feeling that wouldn’t leave me. It was like I was standing on the shore at low tide, and I knew that if I stopped, if I stood in place for too long, the water would swallow me. So I found something to focus on and I kept moving. I told myself that I was helping people and taking my revenge at the same time. I told myself that I didn’t care if I died, if I did it my way. I didna have anything else to live for anyway.”

  He laughed softly, a low, wry, broken sound. “It wasn’t true. All those times I tried to be honest with everyone else, and I was lying to myself. Now I wonder if I was just running headlong at something because I didn’t know what else to do. Because I didn’t know what to do with this pain in my heart.” He stopped, voice unsteady, but when he focused on her again, his eyes were clear, intent. “But my feet have been tired for a while now. And I think…I think I’d like to stand in one place.”

  Oh, Mal.

  “It doesn’t have to be here,” she whispered. “If you stay, you’ll go to trial.”

  And he had to know how these things went. They could just as easily let him off with a minor punishment as make an example of him, a warning about what happened to unruly Highlanders.

  “That’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

  But she didn’t know if it was a risk she was willing to take. She knew, if she left with him now, things would never be the same. She didn’t know when she would see her family again, and the thought threatened to smash her heart into pieces.

  But the alternative wasn’t an option at all.

  She would take a shattered heart over the absence of one.

  “I’m going with you this time,” she said quietly. She could no longer bear the idea of living without him. She certainly couldn’t bear the thought of him confined here, waiting for men who knew nothing about him to determine his fate. They were different in some ways, but they were so similar in others, and their edges, both the broken ones and the whole ones, lined up perfectly somehow.

  He was her match. Something in her soul had recognized Malcom Stewart, had claimed him, from the start.

  Mal’s face softened. He looked at her for a long, long moment. “I’m not going to let you do that, lass. I should have never asked you to leave your home in the first place.”

  “So you’ll sacrifice yourself, instead? Mal—”

  He shook his head. “I’m doing what’s right.”

  She could tell by his tone that he wasn’t going to budge. She pursed her lips. “You’re determined to see this through, then?”

  “Aye—I’m not going to run anymore. My place is by your side, if you’ll have me, and your place is here.”

  She nodded, coming to a decision. “All right.”

  “All right?” His eyes narrowed. He seemed to have expected more of an argument from her.

  She moved closer to him. Without looking back, she said, “Lachlan? Lock me in, too. And send word to my brother in the morning.”

  Mal lunged forward. “Wait—”

  But Lachlan had already shut the door, closing them in darkness.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Georgina couldn’t see Mal. They’d been plunged into the dark, the gloom as deep, as complete, as a night without stars. But she could feel his breath, warm against her cheek. She could feel the heat of his body.

  “You are the most maddening woman I’ve ever met,” he exclaimed. “Sometimes I want to shake you nearly as much as I want to kiss you.”

  She moved closer to him. “You made your decision, so I’ve made mine. Don’t fault me for being almost as stubborn as you are.”

  “Almost!” he huffed. “I think you have that backward, lass.” But he reached for her, and their hands brushed before catching together.

  She closed her eyes, and a beat of silence passed as they both reveled in the contact.

  “You came for me,” Mal said. Now that they were alone, his voice was hushed, tinged with something like reverence.

  She pressed her free hand to his chest, right over the steady beat of his heart. “Of course I did. This is mine, and I’m going to keep it safe, since you seem to be doing a questionable job at the task.” She tried to keep her voice light, though her eyes stung.

  “I’ll do better from now on, but you should know, it’s a tattered thing,” he whispered.

  “And generous. And kind. And loyal. I’ve become rather fond of it. Sometimes it feels like it must be the other half of my own.” She rested her forehead against his, and they breathed the same breath. “Mal.” Her throat was tight, but there was something she needed to say to him, and there seemed no better time to do it. Alone, in the dark, her hand cradled in Mal’s.

  He twined their fingers together, and she was grateful for the warmth. For his silent strength. Because she was about to cut herself open, and it was a terrifying thing. She drew a deep breath, and began. “I was scared,” she said. “I lost sight of myself for a while. After I found out about my disorder—it shook me, even though I tried to pretend it didn’t. And then I met you and…there was another reason I didn’t tell you. You always looked at me so admiringly, from the very beginning, and I was worried you might look at me differently once you found out. You know how people judge a woman’s worth.”

  It was all caught up in being a wife, in being a mother. Georgina didn’t want to be looked at like she was less. She wasn’t less. She was the same woman she’d always been.

  “I know how some people judge it,” he said. “But that’s not how I judge it. And I don’t think you do, either.”

  “No, it’s not,” she agreed. “But like I said, I lost sight of myself. And I…I had never really thought about children before, either, but I…I don’t know…” Her voice broke. “I would have liked the choice.”

  “Oh, lass.”

  And with that softly spoken exclamation, she was done for. She hadn’t cried when the doctor had told her. She hadn’t cried when she’d seen Theo and Annabel with their daughter and been reminded, again and again. She hadn’t cried when her mother’s music box had been stolen and everything had been tangled up inside her mind, her
heart.

  But now she began to cry, her breath leaving her in staggered gasps. Mal reeled her in. She curled against his chest, face pressed into his throat. Her tears were dripping onto him, and her body was trembling, and she couldn’t make it stop.

  She hated being so vulnerable, but this was Mal. If she had to break down in front of anyone, she wanted it to be him.

  “It’s stupid,” she said thickly. “I’m mourning something I didn’t even know I wanted.”

  “You’re mourning something you lost. It doesna matter if you knew you wanted it or not.”

  Georgina nuzzled deeper against him, as close as she could get. They stood like that for a long time, until all of her tears were dry. “You lost something, too, Mal. You lost your family…all of them at once,” she said, after she’d found the strength to speak again.

  Mal listened silently. He seemed to sense she wasn’t done.

  She drew a deep, deep breath and forged ahead. “If you think you’re ever going to be disappointed that you can’t have children of your own, I should know that now. I’d rather know now.”

  His hands moved to her shoulders, stopped, tightened. “Don’t be an idiot.”

  “What?”

  “I have a family. They might not be blood and they might not look like a normal family, but they’re mine. We chose each other, and we’ve chosen you, too. So if you’re going to walk away from us because you’re tired of us, that’s fine, walk away and don’t look back if that’s what you want to do. But don’t you dare do it for a reason like that.”

  She was startled by his declaration, by the vehemence of it, but mostly by the recognition in her heart. He was right. And she should have known better than anyone—families came in all shapes and sizes. It didn’t make their bonds any less real.

  Hadn’t Georgina and her siblings become closer after their parents’ deaths? Hadn’t they each, in turn, been a father and a mother to one another? Hadn’t the ties between them become stronger, no matter how much they shifted over the years?

  They were not a typical family. They weren’t mother, father, daughter, son, but they loved one another just as much. And Mal and Andrew, Ewan and Lachlan, they’d all saved each other once, and they loved each other, too.