In Pursuit of a Scottish Lady (Moonstone Magic Book 2)

by Hunt, Brenda

  In Pursuit

  of a

  Scottish Lady

  Brenda Hunt

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidences are all figments of this author imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons living or dead is purely coincidental and are not intended by the author.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or stored in any manner, database or retrieval system what so ever, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any other means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise without written permission of the author unless in the case of brief quotations during articles or critical reviews.

  Text copyrighted

  All rights reserved.

  Cover design by: Fionajademedia

  ISBN 13: 978-0-9909459-2-5

  ISBN 10: 0990945928

  Brenda Hunt, Louisiana

  Dedicated to:

  To family and friends

  You know who you are.

  Without your constant words of

  Support and encouragement

  I could not do this.

  Thank you, thank you!!!

  To my husband who allows me

  To escape to my chair and write,

  Thank you!!

  To Maggie and Lillie

  My fur babies, my pugs

  Who are very often at my side or

  in my lap as I work.

  Other books by this author:

  Soft Sweet Fire

  Snowbound Fairy Christmas

  Moonstone Magic Series Book 1

  Coming in the fall of 2017

  The Marquees and the American Heiress

  Moonstone Magic Series Book 3

  Chapter 1

  The road was a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,

  And the highwayman came riding---------

  Riding------- riding…….

  The Highwayman

  Alfred Noyes

  The carriage came to a sudden halt, throwing its passenger about in the carriage. Loud curses could be heard coming from within the interior of the coach as the occupant swung open the door only to find himself staring at the muzzle of a pistol trained directly at his chest. Damn, he thought.

  “Stand and deliver,” the gruff voice stated. The hand that held the pistol was steady.

  Lord Colin Hallwell, Duke of Worthingston better known to all as Worth, let out a breath of frustration. He looked up to the person who dared to stop and rob him. He could not make out more than a dark shape on a dark horse with a gun pointed at his chest. He caught a brief sight of another horseman at the front of his coach with a gun trained on his driver. Damn, he thought again.

  “We dinna hae all night. Ye valuables, me lord, and dinna ye be try nothin’.”

  The voice that requested his valuables was young and disguised. All the years, he had spent working for the war department made him observant to many out of the ordinary things, things most people would not notice.

  “I’m going to slowly get out of my coach,” stated Worth.

  The gun waved him down. Slowly, Worth stepped down from his coach.

  “Ye valuables me lord, ye purse first and no tricks.”

  Worth slowly removed a small bag of coins from a pocket in his jacket. He had not carried his pistol on this trip as he usually did. His extra lay with his clothes under the seat he had just vacated.

  Quickly, a hand grabbed the bag, the horse and rider turned and was gone into the darkness. A voice from the darkness called back, “Thank ye me lord,” followed by a laugh, a laugh that had a very feminine tone to it. The hand was small, too. A woman? questioned Worth.

  Bennings from atop the coach asked, “Your grace, are you alright?”

  Worth chuckled, suddenly tickled by the fact, he had just been robbed. He was certain, for he had depended on his skill for too many years to quickly access a situation and all the people involved, that he had just been robbed by a young female.

  “Yes, Bennings. I am fine. Let us get on to the next town and stop for the night.”

  “Of course, your grace,” replied Bennings.

  Worth climbed back into his coach and sat back in his seat. The coach started back on its way again. It had been an unusual last few weeks even for him. First, he had attended his good friend, Beck’s wedding which had ended with the bride being poisoned by Beck’s mother’s maid.

  Upon Beck’s request, he had escorted Beck’s mother and her maid to Northcutt Hall. He smiled as he remembered how irritated the Dowager Countess Shefley was when they finally arrived. Northcutt Hall was as far away from London as one could get according to the Countess. Exactly what Beck wanted.

  It had taken him nearly a fortnight to get Northcutt Hall into some semblance of order. Unused rooms were cleaned and set to rights. Extra staff was hired. Serious instructions were given to the staff concerning the Countess’s stay. He made it abundantly clear, the Countess was not allowed to leave the Hall, unless under Beck’s instruction. He could not see that happening any time soon. Even, the local magistrate had been notified.

  To say, the Countess was displeased with the relocation was an understatement. He had to admit, he had rather enjoyed the assignment. Her constant pleas and demands had fallen on his deaf ears. That had not sat well with her either. When he left earlier, he could still hear her angry shouts echoing in the hall. He had smiled as he walked out. It felt like he had finally avenged his sister, Caroline’s death.

  The Countess had not directly caused Caroline’s death, just as she had not directly poisoned Dulcey, Beck’s wife, but she had been responsible. Now, she was somewhere, where she could not hurt people directly or indirectly. In plain speaking, the Dowager Countess was to be held prisoner at one of the Shefley estates.

  And now to top it all off, to have been robbed. He began laughing. He should have been furious, but for some strange reason, he found it amusing. After having dealt with the Countess, this was just the mystery he needed. A highwayman, no a highwaywoman. She had a Scottish brogue. The thought intrigued him. He would search till he found her. The Scottish border was not that far.

  His coach came to a stop and he looked out. It appeared, they had stopped at a small inn. Worth climbed down and walked into the Black Crow. It was small but clean. He could feel Bennings right behind him.

  The innkeeper, a portly bald headed man, came in from the back room.

  Before Worth could say anything, Bennings began. “Innkeeper, we have just been robbed. This is the Duke of Worthingston.”

  Worth remembered now, why Bennings stayed in England, when he went across the Channel to do his spying. Bennings would have gotten him killed his first assignment. Worth let out a sigh of frustration. If he was going to find his highwaywoman, he was going to need to send Bennings back home.

  “Your grace, what happened? We have never had a highwayman in this area in all the years I have lived here. Are you certain?” asked the innkeeper upset with the news.

  Worth watched the reaction of the innkeeper. He was truly shocked. The innkeeper did not know of this highwaywoman. His reaction was genuine.

  “Yes, my good man. No one was harmed, but I would like a room for the night and a good hot meal, if you please,” replied Worth. He would play the exemplar duke for the time being, just in case the innkeeper was better at hiding than he, Worth, believed he was.

  “Your grace, we have been robbed,” decried Bennings in annoyance. The duke did not appear to be affected by the robbery, but Bennings found himself to be flustered by what had happened.

  “Yes, Bennings, but
no one was hurt. The few coins the robber took were of no consequence to me,” lied Worth. It was not the coins that bothered him. It was the fact this highwaywoman had the audacity to rob him. No, he was determined to find this highwaywoman. He just did not want anyone to know what he was about.

  “I do so apologize, your grace. We have never had such happen here before and I have lived here all of my life,” reiterated the innkeeper, flustered there had been a robbery in their district. “Shall I have my son, Ben, go for the magistrate?”

  Worth shook his head. “No, that won’t be necessary------” he waited for the innkeeper to introduce himself.

  “Harman, your grace. My name is Harman.” answered the inn keeper.

  “As I requested earlier, a room and a good hot meal would be deeply appreciated.”

  The inn keeper shook himself. “Of course, your grace. The private parlor or the tap room? I will have Ella, my wife, ready your room while I serve you your meal myself.”

  “The tap room will be fine,” replied Worth. He wanted to see if perhaps any of the locals knew of his mystery highwaywoman.

  Bennings raised his eyebrows. His grace simply did not eat in the tap room.

  Worth looked at Bennings and smiled. Bennings was the epitome of a valet. In London, he was everything Worth needed, but traveling, sometimes Bennings was a bit too formal.

  Worth followed Harmon as he led him to a table set off to side. Worth nodded as he sat down and watched the innkeeper go off to get his food. There were a couple of locals drinking a pint of ale at the table by the fireplace. Each nodded in turn when he came in.

  This was just a small village along the road he found himself traveling on. The innkeeper brought back a bowl of mutton stew and served him. He didn’t realize how hungry he was. It was very good. He complimented the innkeeper who beamed with pride and informed him his wife had cooked it.

  Worth sat at his table, lit a thin cheroot, sat back and listened to the locals talk. Again, he was convinced his highwaywoman was not from the area. Everyone was just as surprised at a highwayman in the area. It would mean having to use some of his skills learned while spying in France to his advantage to find his highwaywoman. The thrill of the hunt entered his blood and he could think of nothing else now. He needed this diversion. His life had been rather boring of late. This was exactly what he needed, after having spent the last few weeks with the Countess. Yes, the more he thought on it, the more he was determined to find his highwaywoman.

  After he finished his smoke, he complimented Harmon again and his wife Ella who was by his side. The meal had been simple but good. There had been many a time, he would have loved to have had such simple fair. Those times made him appreciate even the simple things.

  He met Bennings on the landing. “I have set out your valise on the bed. It appears to be a rather nice inn, your grace. Clean. The innkeeper’s wife is meticulous. If there is nothing more you require from me tonight, your grace, I will see to my own meal and room.”

  “Yes, Bennings. That is all for tonight. Tell Hugh, as well.”

  Worth walked into his room. Rather spacious for an inn. His valise sat on his bed. He noticed the bottle of whiskey and glass on the table beside the bed. Worth undid his cravat, removed his jacket and boots and poured himself a stiff drink. He sat in the chair before the fire and stared into the flames. He slowly sipped his whiskey and replayed the robbery in slow motion, recalling every detail.

  What was it that made him conclude this highwayman was a woman? It was several little things. Even though it had been dark, he analyzed the figure on the horse. The great coat worn was big, as though hiding the slight frame it covered. The disguised voice had a feminine undertone. The laugh as they rode away, definitely had a feminine ring. The hand that grabbed his bag of coins was small and slender.

  Yes, his highwayman was a woman, a Scottish one at that. He smiled at the deductions he came to. He was not interested in recouping his coin. He was more interested in discovering why a woman would be forced to become a highwayman. There were other occupations a woman could use in order to get money. Why had this particular woman gone this route?

  In the morning, he would go about disguising himself and set off tracking this highwaywoman. She was a mystery. He enjoyed solving mysteries. He swallowed the last sip of whiskey and retired to bed. For the first time in several weeks, he looked forward to the coming days. That he would have a hard time finding her never entered his mind.

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  Worth woke just as the sun was rising in the eastern sky. Bennings would not like what he was about to do, more he would not like how he would dress, to do what he was about to do. He was going to change from the Duke of Worthingston to Colin Wells, one of his aliases he had used before. It was the one, he was most comfortable in.

  Worth walked into carriage house. Hugh, his driver was already up and getting the carriage ready.

  “Your grace, I’ll have it ready shortly,” Hugh explained.

  “Take your time, Hugh. I am just looking for a valise I keep under the seat. You and Bennings will be going on without me, so you may take your time,” explained Worth, as he opened the door. He pulled up the carriage seat and pulled a canvas bag from its depths.

  “You are staying here, your grace?” asked Hugh confused. “Is it because of the robbery last night? I have asked around, and everyone was shocked to hear of it. I believe it was no one about here.”

  Worth nodded. “I tend to agree with you, Hugh. I do not think our highwayman is from around here. But I do intend to find her.”

  Hugh looked confused. “Her, your grace?”

  Damn, thought Worth. He had let that slip by mistake. He was just that obsessed with finding her. He was not paying enough attention to his speech. That was not like him. She was affecting his thoughts and actions. He needed to be more careful.

  “Did I say her? My mistake.”

  “Your grace, what are doing out here? Are we leaving now? I am sorry. I went to your room and you were not there. You did not say we were leaving early last night,” spluttered Bennings. Sometimes, his grace acted very oddly. It made working for him rather difficult at times.

  Worth was glad for Bennings’ interruption. He did not have to explain to Hugh his mistake.

  “I was just telling Hugh, you and he will be going on to Stoneybrook as planned. I will be staying behind for the time being,” explained Worth.

  Bennings looked at him as though he had lost his mind. Maybe he had, but the mystery of his highwaywoman had piqued his curiosity. Worth was determined to find out if his hunch was correct.

  “But why, your grace?” asked Bennings.

  “The robbery, last night,” answered Hugh. “His grace thinks it’s a woman.”

  Damn, again!

  “What?” questioned Bennings, startled by the revelation.

  “It was just a slip. I am not sure who robbed us. But I do want to try and find out who it is.”

  Bennings stared at the Duke. “Surely, that could be dangerous, your grace.” After all, the two robbers had been brandishing pistols.

  Worth smiled knowingly. No, this was not dangerous. This was just intriguing. “Do not worry over this Bennings. This is just a diversion for me. Say, it’s an alleviation of my boredom and aggravation of the past few weeks.”

  Bennings shook his head in disbelief. He had been with the duke for many years and knew he often went off on his own for weeks often months at a time. He knew the duke worked for the war department, but he never knew what he did nor did he question him about it.

  Worth watched Bennings face. He knew Bennings was completely confused just as he always was when he went off on one of his assignments. Bennings though the perfect valet in London had no clue to what his employer truly did.

  “You and Hugh will return to Stoneybrook. I may send you word to meet me in London instead. I am not certain at the moment what my plans will be. No one is to know where I am or what I am doing,” instructed Worth.r />
  Bennings shrugged and shook his head. “I am not certain at all, your grace, what you are about.”

  Worth smiled. “Exactly, Bennings.”

  “Well, your grace, we will stay until you go on your way.”

  Hugh nodded in agreement.

  “Very well, then. Have breakfast while I change.”

  “I shall help, your grace.” replied Bennings. His grace would need his assistance in changing his attire.

  Worth chuckled. Bennings would be of no help with this. “Thank you, but no, Bennings.”

  They walked back into inn. Worth left Hugh and Bennings eating breakfast while he went back upstairs to his room to change. He took the clothes out of the canvas bag. He changed to something more ordinary, plain brown trousers, an ordinary plain linen shirt, topped with brown waistcoat and frock coat. He would wear his boots but he took some cold ash from the fireplace and rubbed some soot on his boots to dull the shine. Worth looked at his reflection in the mirror. His beard was beginning to shadow his face. He did not look anything like a duke, just some ordinary traveler. Worth nodded, packed his ducal clothes in his valise and grabbed the bag. In it, he left an extra change of plain clothes.

  He would use his greatcoat. It was black, plain. Bennings had complained when he took it along, instead of the fur trimmed one he usually used in London. Lastly, he took his two pistols and placed them inside his great coat. He would not be caught unarmed again.

  Downstairs in the tap room, both Bennings and Hugh both looked up and gasped. It was just the reaction he had hoped to get from them.

  Bennings was up on his feet. “Your grace, why are you dressed in such a manner?”

  “Colin Wells, my good man. I have no idea who this duke is, you speak of.” There was just the slightest hint of a Scottish brogue.